REMINISCENCES OF A MERCHANT'S CLERK. CONSTANTINOPLE.-YANGUN, the Conflagration. [BEFORE proceeding with this sketch, the author wishes to be on a good understanding with the reader; it is not proposed to enter into any historical detail, neither is it intended to imitate the example of those who would represent the City of the Sultan as one of gorgeous splendour; what he describes is the result of long residence and patient observation! The middle classes in Turkey have been hitherto unrepresented in this country. The opportunities of the writer were especially favourable for observing them; and should this rough sketch meet the approbation of the readers of the "Village Magazine," it will be followed by others, in which we shall "begin at the beginning," and initiate the reader into the mysteries of a voyage by a merchant vessel, before entering on Turkish ground and submitting the result of longer experience.] I was sitting at tea, and chatting with a young Maltese surgeon, when a well-known sound came pealing through the air-it was the watchman's signal, and the cry of 66 "Fire!" Doors and windows flew open as by a magic touch, and ours among the rest; it proved to be a fire in the City of Constantinople, near the Seraglio. From our terrace roof a view of the Golden Horn was gained; it was a starlight evening (for it was only seven o'clock), and striking indeed was the spectacle of the lanterns dancing about like ignes fatui, and the bawling for boats by those friends of the sufferers who dwelt in the European suburb, and who hastened with alacrity to render their unavailing assistance. Heathens could not exhibit more callous indifference than do all those people whose persons and property are in no danger. The few pedesstrians who had halted to ascertain the locale of the fire resume their course— -in our dwelling the guitar again is struck, and the melody from a sweet and unfaltering tongue again breaks forth-conversation is resumed-the laugh and the joke go round-and even one person is heard ridiculing another for having shown some (now) groundless alarin 'Tis midnight-hushed is " the busy hum of men the last ember in our mangal* has been long extinct, and * A copper vase for heated charcoal. the floating light burns dim. Aroused, I knew not how, from my first heavy sleep, that mournful sound once more rings in my ears, and makes the heart's blood run cold! "Fire in Pera" was an alarm not a moment to be neglected. I aroused Mr. R., and, on opening the blinds, the reflection was awfully vivid in the heavens, although half a mile distant. Even with such a space between us and danger, families commenced packing up their clothes and jewels, and made preparations against the worst. The fire was just outside the wall of Galata, and had its origin in a small wooden shop. In Turkey no step can be taken in these cases till either the commandant of the district, or the Seraskier* pacha, is on the spot, and according as his palace is distant or near, from half an hour to an hour is thrown away. Well, at last he arrives, and the guards are ranged on each side the street, and the engines begin to play. Unfortunately these are not much larger than a garden engine, the reservoir not containing more than two or three buckets full. A fountain, it is true, is seldom far distant, but the only means of portage is the leathern vessels of the sakas, water carriers, not holding more than two gallons each; and though all these men are forced by the officers to labour for nothing, at the risk of the bastinado should they exhibit symptoms of obstinacy, yet, there never being more than two taps to a fountain, all these exertions do but add fuel to the flame. There is certainly noise enough, and the firemen are stripped to their drawers; pushing and swearing go on for some time, and house after house comes tumbling about your ears, and by the vivid flame the half-frantic inmates of the nearest dwellings may be descried, pouring water on the roofs, or hanging large mats, well saturated, before the fragile windows, in hopes the element may waste its fury on them. At last some rich Turk, or Greek, or Armenian, less + Commander-in-chief-literally, "Heart of the Army." phlegmatic than the rest, offers a reward for the preservation of his house. In a moment the grappling hooks are applied to any poor wretch's home which intervenesprayers, entreaties, remonstrances are in vain-gold prevails. By this means probably a quarter of the city or suburb, as the case may be, is spared; but for this shocking selfishness at least forty houses might have been saved. The apathy and indifference exhibited by the Turks under these trying circumstances have been the subject of universal remark by travellers; it has not been overrated. Mr. R. entered a fire-proof house (in fact one of the towers of the wall), in the very heart of the conflagration, on the terrace of which the proprietor sat calmly smoking his tchibouk, neither rendering assistance, nor expecting such a favour should his turn come next. His women and his valuables had been removed; and for the rest, he quiets himself with the main dogma of Islamism-what is to be will be. During the fire, owing to wanton mismanagement, two or three women and as many children were buried in the ruins. The fire occurred at midnight of Saturday, and on Sunday I picked my way amidst the yet smouldering embers. The owners of most of the ruined dwellings were present, and seeing two or three persons actively engaged in turning over the rubbish, a gentleman humanely enquired if the bodies had been found? One of them turned his face towards us, and in a tone of indifference that made one shudder, replied, "I have lost my pipe mouthpiece!" A plentiful shower of rain quieted all latent fears of a fresh outbreak, and on Monday the voices of the muleteers were heard urging on the poor animals with loads of timber and tiles for another set of dwellings, perhaps in a year to follow their predecessors. An unextinguished pipe is supposed to have caused the catastrophe, and yet, such is the force of habit, that it is more than probable the greatest sufferer would retire to a friend's house, and there knock out the ashes from his tchibouk, and leave it in such a situation as might in an hour leave that friend houseless! The knowledge of this unconquerable habit steels the heart in some measure to trying scenes, for on this occasion several poor females were observed sitting on low stools, weeping bitterly, but utterly neglected by the men. A word as to the rapid proclamation of these conflagrations to the inhabitants. From the tower of Galata, and from another pillar in Stamboul, signals are made by watchmen, who are under orders to keep a look out day and night; the regular patrol, on ascertaining the situation of the fire, hastens rapidly through his district, at intervals striking his iron-shod staff on the pavement, and announcing in a singular, but, when once heard, never-to-be-forgotten tone, Yangun var," "there is a fire," adding the situation. On these occasions, desperadoes are not wanting who venture into the flames in hope of plunder; but the Seraskier pacha proves himself an uncompromising magistrate; for, at a fire at which I was present, and where some of these demons were detected, his Highness unhesitatingly ordered them to be forced back into the flames at the point of the bayonet! 66 THE PEELED OAK. BUT late I saw thee stand, the forest's pride, In vain-thy goodly branches, stretching wide, Lopp'd by the woodman's arm, now strew the ground, And naked midst the grove dost thou abide. So have I seen a happy mother stand, Her children clust'ring round in beauty's glow; That death would lay her with her lov'd ones low. S. CONISBROUGH VILLAGE AND CASTLE. PERHAPS among the thousands of villages which are scattered throughout our highly favoured land, not one possesses greater attractions to the stranger than Conisbrough. Sir Walter Scott, than whom it may be asserted none were better qualified to judge, has observed that "there are few more beautiful and striking scenes in England than are presented in the vicinity of this Saxon fortress," whose ruined tower rises on the summit of that eminence on which the village stands. Viewed from the point whence our illustration was sketched, it is surrounded by objects of a truly picturesque character, but its appearance has been so well described by an amiable and talented friend, that we shall use his own words. "Just before crossing the ferry, in the foreground, we have the bold, frowning, time-rent summit of the keep overtopping the trees which surround it; the pretty church tower, conspicuous on the adjacent hill-side, and |