nment), and one or two other Bagdad merchants; but besides,
there were many of my own countrymen, natives of different cities of
Persia, all bound upon purposes of trade to Constantinople, and with
whom I was more or less acquainted. My adventure with the chief priest
of Tehran had in great measure blown over; and indeed the dress I had
adopted, with the scar on my cheek, made me look so entirely like a
native of Bagdad, that I retained little in my appearance to remind the
world that I was in fact a Persian.

I will not tire the reader with a recital of our adventures through
Turkey, which consisted of the usual fear of robbers, squabbles with
muleteers, and frays at caravanserais. It will be sufficient to say,
that we reached our destination in safety; but I cannot omit the
expression of my first emotions upon seeing Constantinople.

I, a Persian, and an Ispahani, had ever been accustomed to hold my
native city as the first in the world: never had it crossed my mind that
any other could, in the smallest degree, enter into competition with
it, and when the capital of Roum was described to me as finer, I always
laughed the describer to scorn. But what was my astonishment, and I may
add mortification, on beholding, for the first time, this magnificent
city! I had always looked upon the royal mosque, in the great square
at Ispahan, as the most superb building in the world; but here were a
hundred finer, each surpassing the other in beauty and in splendour.
Nothing did I ever conceive could equal the extent of my native place;
but here my eyes became tired with wandering over the numerous hills and
creeks thickly covered with buildings, which seemed to bid defiance to
calculation. If Ispahan was half the world, this indeed was the whole.
And then this gem of cities possesses this great advantage over Ispahan,
that it is situated on the borders of a beautiful succession of waters,
instead of being surrounded by arid and craggy mountains; and in
addition to its own extent and beauty, enjoys the advantage of being
reflected in one never-failing mirror, ever at hand to multiply them.
But where should I stop, if I attempted to describe the numerous moving
objects which attracted my attention? Thousands of boats, of all forms
and sizes, skimmed along in every direction, whilst the larger vessels,
whose masts looked like forests, more numerous than those of Mazanderan,
lined the shores of the intricate and widely extended harbour