used only for the prisoners.

The bazaars and chan present no features worthy of notice; moreover,
there are already here, as in all European towns, shops and stores
in all the streets. Several wide bridges are thrown over the Kurry.
The town contains numerous warm sulphuretted springs, from which,
indeed, it derives its name: Tiflis or Ibilissi, meaning "warm
town." Unfortunately, the greater number of the many baths are in
the worst condition. The buildings, within which the springs are
enclosed, are surmounted by small cupolas with windows. The
reservoirs, the floor, and walls, are for the most part covered with
large stone slabs; very little marble is to be seen. There are
private and public baths, and men are not allowed to enter the
buildings where the women assemble; however, they are not nearly so
strict here as in the East. The gentleman who was so kind as to
accompany me to one of these baths, was permitted to come into the
anteroom, although it was separated from the bathing-place only by a
simple wooden partition.

Not far from the baths lies the Botanic Garden, which has been laid
out, at great expense, on the declivity of a mountain. The
terraces, which had to be artificially cut, are supported by masonry
and filled with earth. Why such an unsuitable place was chosen I
cannot imagine; the less so as I saw only a few rare plants and
shrubs, and everywhere nothing but grape-vines; I fancied myself in
a vineyard. The most remarkable things in this garden are two vine-
stocks, whose stems were each a foot in diameter. They are so
extended in groves and long rows that they form pleasant walks.
More than a thousand flasks of wine are annually obtained from these
two vines.

A large grotto has been excavated in one of the upper terraces whose
whole front side is open, and forms a high-arched hall. In the fine
summer evenings there is music, dancing, and even theatrical
performances.

On Sundays and festivals the pretty gardens of the governor are
opened to the public. There are swings and winding-paths, and two
bands of music. The music executed by the Russian military was not
so good as that which I heard by the blacks in Rio Janeiro.

When I visited the Armenian Church, the corpse of a child had just
been laid out. It was in a costly open bier, covered with red
velvet and richly ornamented with gold lace. The corpse was strewed
over with flowers, decorated with a crown, and covered with