Where the Cydaris and Barbyses discharge themselves into it, the slime and mud carried down by the stream are deposited; and it forms a flat alluvial soil, where extensive manufactories of pottery have been established. As this is in the vicinity of a royal kiosk, it has obtained the name of the Tuileries, for the same reason as the French called their palace−-because it was built where a manufactory of tiles had been established. The deposit continues to fill up the harbour, and it is necessary to mark the new-formed shoals, for the direction of vessels, by stakes stuck in the mud, so that this part of the harbour exhibits a curious spectacle of a labyrinth of palisades. Opposite these, on the northern shore, is the “Yelan Seraï” or Palace of the Serpent forming an imperial residence. Many fantastic reasons are assigned for this name by the Turks, and stories told similar to that of the Kiz-Koulesi. But the simple reason seems to be, that the soil in this place abounds with these reptiles; and they so infested the palace that they were found coiled up on divans, and it was necessary to inspect every couch and seat before it could be occupied; the kiosk has, therefore, been abandoned to decay. Though serpents seem now less numerous than formerly in this place, the deleterious character of it is not lessened. The mal-aria generated, spreads a venomous effluvia, as fatal as that of vipers; this is evinced on the residents. The barrack of the “kombaragees,” or bombardiers, who rendered such signal service to the sultan in extirpating the Janissaries, is not far from it, and their sallow and sickly aspect exhibits proof that health is assailed by an effluvia as mortal as the serpent’s breath.