s
or statuary. The view from the windows, and especially from the marble
terrace in front, is one of the finest I have ever seen. The pavilion
stands on the highest part of Seraglio Point, two hundred feet above
the water: below it are the ruins of the palace, and the gardens
running down to the shore. Just before you the Bosphorus empties
into the Marmora; in a deep bay on the Asiatic shore opposite are the
islands of Prinkipo, Prote and several others; and on the mainland the
view is bounded by the snow-capped mountains of Olympus. On the
right is the Sea of Marmora. To the left, as far as you can see, the
Bosphorus stretches away toward the Black Sea, its shores dotted with
towns, cemeteries and palaces; on the extreme left the Golden Horn
winds between the cities of Stamboul and Pera; while behind you is St.
Sophia and the city of Stamboul. It is a magnificent view, never to
be forgotten. There are several other pavilions near the one just
described. A small one in the Chinese style, with piazza around it has
the outer wall covered with blue and white tiles, and inside blinds
inlaid with mother of pearl. The floor was matted, and the divans
were of white silk embroidered with gilt thread and crimson and green
floss. A third pavilion was a library.

[Illustration: MOSQUE OF ST. SOPHIA.]

From the Seraglio we drove to St. Sophia. Stamboul can boast of one
fine street, and a few others that are wide enough for carriages. When
the government desires to widen a street a convenient fire generally
occurs. At the time they proposed to enlarge this, the principal
street, it is said the fire broke out simultaneously at many points
along the line. As the houses are generally of wood, they burn
quickly, and a fire is not easily extinguished by their inefficient
fire department. Then the government seizes the necessary ground and
widens the street, the owners never receiving any indemnification for
their losses. I need not attempt a minute description of St. Sophia.
We took the precaution to carry over-shoes, which we put on at the
door, instead of being obliged to take off our boots and put on
slippers. A firman from the sultan admitted us without difficulty.
We admired the one hundred and seventy columns of marble, granite and
porphyry, many of which were taken from ancient temples, and gazed up
at the lofty dome where the four Christian seraphim executed in mosaic
still remain, though the names of the four archangels of the