he
divan at his ease, in the old Turkish ample costume. The white beard,
the dress of the pasha, the rich but faded carpet which covered the
floor, the roof of elaborate but dingy wooden arabesque, were all in
perfect keeping, and the dubious light of two thick wax candles rising
two or three feet from the floor, but seemed to bring out the picture,
which carried me back, a generation at least, to the pashas of the old
school. Hussein smoked a narghile of dark red Bohemian cut crystal. M.
Petronievitch and myself were supplied with pipes which were more
profusely mounted with diamonds, than any I had ever before smoked;
for Hussein Pasha is beyond all comparison the wealthiest man in the
Ottoman empire.

After talking over the last news from Constantinople, he asked me what
I thought of the projected steam balloon, which, from its being of a
marvellous nature, appears to have caused a great deal of talk among
the Turks. I expressed little faith in its success; on which he
ordered an attendant to bring him a drawing of a locomotive balloon
steered by flags and all sorts of fancies. "Will not this
revolutionize the globe?" said the pasha; to which I replied, "C'est
le premier pas qui coute; there is no doubt of an aerial voyage to
India if they get over the first quarter of a mile."[1]

I returned to sup with M. Petronievitch at his house, and we had a
great deal of conversation relative to the history, laws, manners,
customs, and politics of Servia; but as I subsequently obtained
accurate notions of that country by personal observation, it is not
necessary on the present occasion to return to our conversation.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Hussein Pasha has since retired from Widdin, where he
made the greater part of his fortune, for he was engaged in immense
agricultural and commercial speculations; he was succeeded by Mustapha
Nourri Pasha, formerly private secretary to Sultan Mahommud, who has
also made a large fortune, as merchant and ship-owner.]

CHAPTER IV.

Leave Widdin.--The Timok.--Enter Servia.--Brza Palanka.--The Iron
Gates.--Old and New Orsova.--Wallachian Matron.--Semlin.--A
Conversation on Language.

I left Widdin for the Servian frontier, in a car of the country, with
a couple of horses, the ground being gently undulated, but the
mountains to the south were at a considerable distance. On our right,
agreeable glimpses of the Danube presented themselves from time to
time. In six hours we arriv