is magical illumination. The mosque, with its
taper minarets, its airy galleries, and its great central dome, is built
of compact, transparent flame, and in the shifting of the red and yellow
fires, seems to flicker and waver in the air. It is as lofty, and
gorgeous, and unsubstantial as the cloudy palace in Cole's picture of
"Youth." The long white front of the arsenal is fused in crimson heat, and
burns against the dark as if it were one mass of living coal. And over all
hangs the luminous canopy of smoke, redoubling its lustre on the waters of
the Golden Horn, and mingling with the phosphorescent gleams that play
around the oars of the caiques.

A long barge, propelled by sixteen oars, glides around the dark corner of
Tophaneh, and shoots into the clear, brilliant space in front of the
mosque. It is not lighted, and passes with great swiftness towards the
brilliant landing-place. There are several persons seated under a canopy
in the stern, and we are trying to decide which is the Sultan, when a
second boat, driven by twenty-four oarsmen, comes in sight. The men rise
up at each stroke, and the long, sharp craft flies over the surface of
the water, rather than forces its way through it. A gilded crown surmounts
the long, curved prow, and a light though superb canopy covers the stern.
Under this, we catch a glimpse of the Sultan and Grand Vizier, as they
appear for an instant like black silhouettes against the burst of light on
shore.

After the Sultan had entered the mosque, the fires diminished and the
cannon ceased, though the illuminated masts, minarets and gateways still
threw a brilliant gleam over the scene. After more than an hour spent in
devotion, he again entered his caique and sped away to greet his new wife,
amid a fresh discharge from the frigates and the batteries on both shores,
and a new dawn of auroral splendor. We made haste to reach the
landing-place, in order to avoid the crowd of caiques; but, although we
were among the first, we came near being precipitated into the water, in
the struggle to get ashore. The market-place at Tophaneh was so crowded
that nothing but main force brought us through, and some of our party had
their pockets picked. A number of Turkish soldiers and police-men were
mixed up in the melee, and they were not sparing of blows when they came
in contact with a Giaour. In making my way through, I found that a
collision with one of the soldiers was inevitable, but I managed to plu