In the dawn of history, when migration and commerce marched only at a slow pace, a site as favoured as that of Byzantium was capable only of attracting the dwellers in its immediate neighbourhood. But after commerce had become developed, the blind alone—so said the oracle of Apollo—could fail to appreciate the great advantages held out by the Golden Horn. Indeed, Constantinople lies not only on the ocean highway which connects the world of the Mediterranean with the Black Sea, but also on the high-road which leads from Asia into Europe. Geographically it may be described as occupying a position at {100} the mouths of the Danube, Dniester, Dnieper, Don, Rion, and Kizil Irmak, whose common outlet is the Bosphorus. When Constantine the Great constituted it the metropolis of the Roman empire, it grew rapidly in population and wealth; it soon became the city of cities; and its Turkish appellation, Stamboul, is nothing but a corruption of the expression _es tam polin_, used by the inhabitants to denote their going _into the city_. Amongst the distant tribes of Asia it represents Rome. They know it by no other name than that of “Rum,” and the country of which it is the capital they call “Rumelia.” Constantinople is one of the most beautiful cities in the world: it is the “paradisiacal city” of Eastern nations. It may compare with Naples or Rio de Janeiro, and many travellers accord it the palm. As we approach the entrance of the Golden Horn, seated in a caique more graceful than the gondolas of Venice, the vast and varied panorama around us changes with every stroke of the oars. Beyond the white walls of the Seraglio and its masses of verdure rise here, amphitheatrically on the seven hills of the peninsula, the houses of Stamboul—its towers, the vast domes of its mosques, with their circlets of smaller domes, and its elegant minarets, with their balconies. On the other side of the haven, which is crossed by bridges of boats, there are more mosques and towers, seen through a forest of masts and rigging, and covering the slope of a hill whose summit is crowned by regularly built houses and the palatial residences of Pera. On the north vast villa-cities extend along both shores of the Bosphorus. Towards the east, on a promontory of Asia, there is still another city, cradled amidst gardens and trees. This is Scutari, the Asiatic suburb of Constantinople, with its pink houses and vast cemetery shaded by beautiful cypress groves. Farther in the distance we perceive Kadi-koei, the ancient Chalcedon, and the small town of Prinkipo, on one of the Princes’ Islands, whose yellow rocks and verdant groves are reflected in the blue waters of the Sea of Marmara. The sheet of water connecting these various portions of the huge city is alive with vessels and boats, whose movements impart animation to the magnificent picture. The prospect from the heights above the town is still more magnificent. The coasts of Europe and