120 
A CRUSADE IN THE EAST. 
gliding noiselessly out from under the shadow of the ram¬ 
parts ; vistas of valleys and hills steeped in a soft glow of 
purple, through which gleamed villages and pointed minarets, 
and the moist foliage of groves, the heights beyond tipped with 
golden rays of sunshine, and the sleeping waters of the Bospho¬ 
rus, lost in the glitter of palaces and the shadows of mountains. 
With such a sky, such glowing lights and mystic shades, such 
soft distances, such strange and fanciful fabrics, looming up in 
a perfect maze of beauty, it is difficult to reconcile any idea 
of reality. It is an enchantment beyond all the dreams of 
fancy ; the very soul is rapt in an ideal world, and for a mo¬ 
ment reality itself becomes a dream too bright and beautiful 
for comprehension. 
But the anchor is up ; the hissing steam sends us dashingly 
into the Golden Horn, where, amid all the strange sights and 
confusing sounds possible to be conscious of in so short a time, 
the chain runs crashing out again, and we are permitted to 
land wherever the prophet wills, which is any where at all. 
Here let me solemnly pause, while six hotel commissioners 
from Pera are endeavoring to tear me to pieces, and relieve 
my mind of this moral truth ; it has troubled me for three 
weeks, night and day ; it has twisted itself into every imagin¬ 
able shape for the sake of originality, hut the truth remains 
the same—a truth involuntarily spoken by every traveler who 
has put foot ashore here. He who would fill his soul with a 
thing of beauty, that he would cherish as a joy forever, let 
him never go beyond the first full view of Constantinople. 
To see, is bliss ; to smell, is reality ; to touch, is misery in the 
last degree. 
A very stylish gentleman in petticoats carried my knapsack, 
and conducted me to the Hotel de Byzant, a clean airy estab¬ 
lishment, in view of Stamboul and the Bosphorus. The pro¬ 
prietor is a Hungarian, his wife an Italian, and his daughter 
a full-blown beauty of sixteen. 
I took advantage of my first leisure hour to call at the Mis- 
seri for the purpose of seeing my Portuguese friends, Doctor 
Mendoza and the Madam; having learned from Carlo the guide 
that they had arrived several days before. The Misseri is a very 
