Quidquid patimur mortale genus, Primusque dies dedit extremum." SENECA. It is all fate with the Turk; and his present condition and prospects,―his character reckless, ignorant, and besotted; his kingdom impoverished, decayed, and dismembered; shew to what a point of ruin this fatal doctrine is leading him; it promotes but one virtue, and that of a very questionable quality,-it gives courage in the field of battle, but it is the brute courage of indifferenceit leads him not to face danger, but to forget it, like opium before amputation. He carries into private life the same absurd creed, and fate renders him indifferent to every thing-to education and to improvement. He spends his lazy days on a divan-silent, and thoughtless, and puffing smoke. He has no energy, and indeed no impulses to action; he dares not aspire to distinction, for there is danger in it; his head and his property are the Sultan's and not his own; the laws by which he is governed are made or changed by the same master. If he has property, he conceals it for fear of robbery; for the Sultan and all his officers are robbers of different grades-from the the great Vizier to the petty village Aga. But the Sultan, say his admirers, has effected a multiplicity of reforms, and bettered the character and condition of the people. His highness has indeed set up a "Moniteur Ottoman," lying in Greek, Turkish, and French; he has built barracks which catch strangers' eyes, and changed for jackets and caps the turbans and caftans of his troops. "The Sultan has civilized these Turks," said a European to me; they are beginning to drink wine." I cannot test the character of these reforms, which seem to bring the evils of European life without its good, the dross without the ore, better than by my honest friend's criterion of civilization. 66 66 Jamque dies auræque vocant: rursusque capessunt JUNE 20th.-The bright sun shone in a clear unclouded sky when we embarked in a small boat on the Bosphorus, with a fine fresh favourable breeze for the Prince's Isles and the coast of Bithynia. Some of the happiest hours of my life have been passed at Constantinople in the contemplation of its lovely scenery, and in making the delightful excursions that its environs afford. They pointed out to us Cadykeui, the site of antient Chalcedon," the city of the blind," and the PRINCE'S ISLANDS. 283 scene of the great Ecclesiastical Council, on a rising ground to the left; but our attention was solely occupied by the fast fading minarets, domes, and crescents, and with the indulgence of those feelings which the last view of a spot where you have spent many a happy day, and which you are never likely to see again, is always calculated to awaken. In four hours we were off the Prince's Islands, the largest of which is called Boyook Addah, or Great Island, by the Turks; four of them only are inhabited, Prinkipos, Chalke, Antigone, and Protos, the others are mere rocks. The inhabitants are nearly all Greeks; and one or two Greek monasteries, in commanding situations, have a picturesque appearance. From the Prince's Islands to Kiose the port of Mondania, six hours are generally occupied with a fair wind. The shore is picturesque, ending in abrupt capes and wooded slopes. From Kiose to Brusa, the antient Prusa, founded, according to Pliny, by Hannibal, and, according to Strabo by Prusias, who was contemporary with Croesus, is a ride of about five hours; the charge for horses and mules is 15 piastres, or 3s. 6d. apiece. The scenery was rendered grand and striking by the lofty range of Mount Olympus rearing its rugged peaks, still covered with a slight coating of snow on the very top. One hour from Kiose we arrived at Mondania, a considerable town, containing several mosques, and a population of some thousands. Beyond Mondania the scenery is most beautiful. From an eminence a fine view is obtained of the sea of Marmora, the island of Kalolinino, and the Gulph, running up to Khenleh. Approaching Prusa, the valley is thickly clothed with mulberry trees, over the green foliage of which are seen the distant minarets of the town, and behind them towers the loftiest summit of Mount Olympus. It is a delightful spot in summer, and much resorted to for its warm baths. The numerous trees and fountains produce a refreshing coolness during the great heat. The valley is from ten to twelve miles long by one broad, presenting a forest of mulberry trees, which nourish the silk-worms, for which Prusa is so celebrated all over the East. On a rocky and picturesque eminence above the town stands the castle near which is an old church, adorned with marble and paved with Mosaic work; here Orcan, the son of Othman, the conqueror of Prusa, is said to be buried. To him Gibbon thus alludes: "From |