horns close to their heads, Which grow turning backwards.  They say this horn looks very beautiful when ’tis well polished.  They are all black, with very short hair on their hides, and have extremely little white eyes, that make them look like devils.  The country people dye their tails, and the hair of their forehead, red, by way of ornament.  Horses are not put here to any laborious work, nor are they at all fit for it.  They are beautiful and full of spirit, but generally little, and not strong, as the breed of colder countries; very gentle, however, with all their vivacity, and also swift and surefooted.  I have a little white favourite, that I would not part with on any terms; he prances under me with so much fire, you would think that I had a great deal of courage to dare to mount him; yet I’ll assure you, I never rid a horse so much at my command in my life.  My side-saddle is the first that was ever seen in this part of the world, and is gazed at with as much wonder as the ship of Columbus in the first discovery of America.  Here are some little birds, held in a sort of religious reverence, and, for that reason, multiply prodigiously:  turtles, on the account of their innocence; and storks, because they are supposed to make every winter the pilgrimage to Mecca.  To say truth, they are the happiest subjects under the Turkish government, and are so sensible of their privileges, that they walk the streets without fear, and generally build in the low parts of houses.  Happy are those whose houses are so distinguished, as the vulgar Turks are perfectly persuaded that they will not be, that year, attacked either by fire or pestilence.  I have the happiness of one of their sacred nests under my chamber-window.

NOW I am talking of my chamber, I remember the description of the houses here will be as new to you, as any of the birds or beasts.  I suppose you have read, in most of our accounts of Turkey, that their houses are the most miserable pieces of building in the world.  I can speak very learnedly on that subject, having been in so many of them; and, I assure you, ’tis no such thing.  We are now lodged in a palace belonging to the grand signior.  I really think the manner of building here very agreeable, and proper for the country.  ’Tis true, they are not at all solicitous to beautify the outsides of their houses, and they are generally built of wood; which, I own, is the cause of many inconveniencies; but this is not to be charged on the ill taste of the people, but on the oppression of the government.  Every house, at the death of its master, is at the grand signior’s disposal; and therefore, no man cares to make a great expence, which he is not sure his family will be the better for.  All their design is to build a house commodious, and that will last their lives; and they are very indifferent if it falls down the year after.  Every house, great and small, is divided into two distinct parts, which only join together by a narrow passage.  The first