A STREET IN BUCHAREST.

The suburbs of Bucharest are distinguished by the name of Mahalas-a number of crooked little streets, quite without the noise and bustle of the city, are terminated by a fence, a wall, or a hedge, behind which are partially concealed rural residences, charmingly situated in the surrounding trees, or overgrown with vines and clematis. A white church, with its assemblage of towers terminating in Indian pagodas, stands at the end of the Mahala de la Stella. It is surrounded with acacias, while near it is the residence of the bishop.

body seemed on the best terms in this blinds stand opposite the church. Everyweek I saw from my windows one of the miniature world. Two or three times a. neighboring houses brilliantly illuminated, and servants with lanterns conducting the beauties of the mahala, in their ordinary attire, toward its cheerfully lighted rooms. This kind of enlarged family life was quite charming to me. in my new abode, I was so fortunate as to After a short residence obtain an invitation to one of these social reunions. Several of the matrons of the neighborhood were seated in graceful and

picturesque positions upon the red divan which extended round the apartment, forming a suitable background for the tableau of girls who were present. Their animation seemed a little intimidated upon my entrance, but after a few moments their timidity vanished, and they were quite regardless of my presence. I found that dancing was the chief amusement of the evening, and it was at once proceeded with in the simple style of the country, accompanied with music on the violin and the pipes of Pan. The women of Bucharest are proverbially beautiful, and those of our quarter did not detract from the established reputation of their countrywomen. Some of the names struck me as pretty and melodious. Among them I remember Maritza, Paraskeva, Lianka, Zinka, &c. The graceful national costume, although rapidly falling into disuse, especially with the young people, and indeed never seen in what is called society, was frequently worn on these occasions, slightly modified. On Sundays, also, I was often struck

with its picturesque beauty, as I saw the fresh and smiling faces of those whom it adorned, coming forth from the white church in the midst of the flowering acacias. I leave it for your readers to decide if any fashion plate compares with this graceful attire of one of our belles of the Mahala de la Stella.

The apartment which had drawn me into its magic circle was quite simply furnished. The illumination which had struck me as so brilliant, was produced by four large candlesticks reflected in four mirrors of highly polished steel, with the addition of a handsome three-branched lamp. Two young Bohemians soon entered with refreshments; they were brown

as Indians, with their large black eyes set in blue enamel. The national dishes of preserved citron, and a delicate preparation of roses, were served in primitive and national style. Two vases were filled with them, from which each guest helped himself to as much as he wished, with a spoon, which was then passed to his neighbor. The other tray had a large glass bowl, containing the pure water of the Dimhowitza, from which all drank as in the days of the patriarchs. As my turn came, a lady smilingly repeated one of the poetical proverbs of the country, respecting this pretty and beloved river. It is very musical in the original, but the translation must suffice: "Sweet Dimhowitza, who

drinks of thy waters shall leave thee no more." It must be powerful water indeed if it stops my vagabondizings!

I was much struck with the grace and beauty of many of the Bohemian or gipsy children. Two little figures whom I frequently saw filling their donitzas with water at the fountain, seemed to me to possess all the quiet grace and repose of the antique, as they balanced the weight of their jars with their extended hands clasped together. The Bohemians, or gipsies, are scattered everywhere through the Principalities. I shall give you a

more lengthened account of them in a future letter.

But I must emerge from the charming seclusion of the Mahala, and again "begin at the beginning," like an orthodox traveler, with some information respecting my present resting-place-the "City of Joy," as its inhabitants like to distinguish it.

Bucharest is nearly two hundred miles from the Black Sea, a little more than fifty from the Danube, and three hundred from Jassi. It lies on a vast plain, with a gentle inclination toward the Dimbowitza, which passes directly through the

city in many graceful windings. It occupies sufficient space for a large number of inhabitants, but the population is by no means so great as it appears, on account of the gardens and public places which surround nearly every residence. Most of the houses have all their apartments upon the ground floor. They are built in this manner because of the earthquakes which occur so frequently in these countries. For the same reason few of them are elegantly constructed.

The streets are generally unnamed and unpaved; they are long, narrow, and crooked, and revoltingly filthy at all times. Instead of pavements, most of them are roughly laid with planks, under which channels have been constructed to carry away the water and impurities of the city; but these wretched conduits are almost always obstructed. You think nothing can exceed the disagreeable uncleanliness of the city in winter, until you find it in summer with the additional aggravation of whirlwinds of dust. It is not extravagant to say that it is often ankle-deep; few, however, ever measure it in this manner, for in Bucharest feet are luxuries, carriages are absolute necessities. No respectable person is ever seen in the streets of the city on foot, any more than without clothes. The human being was not more inseparable from the quadruped in the fabulous centaur, than is respectability from an equipage in this community. A moderate income is obliged to support one vehicle, and often two. During my stay here I have seen no one on foot in the streets, except the beggars and gipsies; but you may frequently see the occupants of such houses as your day-laborers would despise, alighting from one kind of a carriage in winter, and another in summer. People are supplied with two or three equipages here, as among you they furnish themselves with the same number of boots or shoes. They are the grand ambition of life, and, as in countries older in civilization, the great aim in the possession of an equipage is to eclipse some rival in the display of vehicle or steed. The Albanian breed is valued most highly, and is only at the command of the most wealthy. The coachman, in his ragged and filthy garments, seems perched on his seat purposely to display to better advantage the elegant form and gorgeous caparisons of the horses, which are covered

from head to foot with silk and cashmere, elaborately ornamented with gold, silver, and gems. There are fashionable drives for the display of all this extravagance, and they are usually thronged. Next to theatrical displays and gaming, the drive is the most serious employment of the Bucharians. Games of chance are frequently pursued with a passion amounting to frenzy: more than one nobleman has lost his entire fortune in a single evening's play.

The indolence of the Moldo-Wallachians is proverbial; they prefer repose to everything. Nowhere have I found such an utter aversion for the proper use of the pedal extremities. But a better day is coming. A few of the streets are already paved; more examples will follow when their superiority is seen. Carriages will become a luxury for the vain and wealthy alone; and Bucharest, the City of Joy, receding still further from Asia in its progress, will receive a new impetus toward the civilization of Europe, when her citizens can tread her streets without disgrace.

A great point has already been attained in the destruction of the dogs with which the city was formerly infested. One of my countrymen who visited it in 1835, stated their numbers at thirty thousand. Unfed and homeless, their battles were, of course, perpetual. Woe to the unfortunate whelp who secured a bone for his private repast. He was immediately the object of attack from troops of starving curs, with inflamed eyes and foaming mouths, and with whom the victory was a matter of life or death. Everything fled before these tyrants of the streets. The authorities of the city were at last obliged to attempt some remedy, and a few paras were offered for every carcass. The Bohemians, to whom the calling seemed a natural one, armed with long sticks pointed with iron, entered upon their duties at five o'clock in the morning, and pursued them until mid-day. The carnage was dreadful, but it resulted in the relief of the city from the grievous evil under which it had so long suffered.

As in most eastern and Russian cities, each trade has a particular quarter assigned to it. The quarter of Leipsikani is occupied by traders whose supplies come from the annual fair of Leipsic. There is also the bazaar of the bacans or gro

Besides this relic the visitor will find at Bucharest several interesting struc

The most obvious characteristic of Bucharest is the inequality which marks its buildings. Its elegant public edifices are side by side with miserable hovels. In this respect it bears no resemblance to the European cities which it endeavors to imitate. The diversity of costumes is also very striking to a stranger, even to those who have been accustomed to the various garbs of a Russian city. Here it is not unfrequent for the father to preserve the national costume, while the youngsters of the family adopt the European fashions. The French language is generally taught, precisely as the classics are made a part of education in your schools; it is also the general language of polite circles; its use and the recognized forms of French society and French mode, are exclusively adopted by the aristocracy. It is as yet, however, quite impossible to ingraft the taste and cultivation of western Europe upon this odd melange of population, just emerging from eastern barbarism and obscurity.

Among other objects attractive to a stranger in Bucharest is the hospital of Coltza, with its ruined tower, which was built in 1715, by the soldiers of Charles XII., of Sweden. It will be remembered that this "Madman of the North" took refuge, with a remnant of his troops, in Turkey, after his defeat by the Russians. His heroic pranks while here perplexed the grave Turks with profound astonishment. They called him the Demirbash, or the "Iron Headed." Tradition still speaks of his whimsical but courageous feats, and this monument of the presence of his troops is regarded with special interest by natives as well as travelers.*

Charles, while living in Turkey, on the hospitality of the sultan, had a freakish quarrel with the authorities, and actually defied the whole military force. His officers and ministers, his chaplain bowing before him, supplicated him not to sacrifice them by his rashness; but he fortified his house, and, as Voltaire says:

the Khan of Mahmouk Bey, an immense caravansary, of two stories, with a double balcony in its interior; the Museum of Antiquities and Natural History, the College of St. Sava, &c., &c. It possesses also a library of some six or eight thousand volumes, and is rich in oriental manuscripts.

Instead of wearying myself with the details of these charitable and scientific establishments, true to my instincts, I preferred making my observations in the Mahalas, upon the habits, costumes, and manners of the poorer classes. Their habitual food consists of a porridge made from coarse wheat or other grain. They scarcely ever taste animal food of any kind. Notwithstanding the affectation of European and more particularly French manners by the wealthier classes, the character of the people is decidedly oriental, and many of the formal manners of the Arabian knights are still retained in their social intercourse. When a lady enters a saloon she kisses the brow of the mistress of the house; a young girl drops gracefully upon one knee and presses her lips upon the hand of the hostess, presenting her cheek as she rises. Smoking is evidently the chief business of the sterner sex. Upon the entrance of a visitor, a chiboque is brought by a slave, from which the master of the house draws a few whiffs and then offers it to his guest.

"Il se defend avec quarante domestiques contre une armée,"—" He defended himself with forty domestics against an army." The Turks sent a delegation of venerable janissaries to entreat him to yield. He would not see them, but sent he would cut off their beards. They retired in them word that unless they left the mansion amazement, saying, "Ah, the Head of Iron, if he will perish, let him perish" The army, with ten cannon, bore down upon the house, Charles opened a door with his little force, the janissaries penetrated its chambers, but as "the Turks," says Voltaire, "burdened with booty, were so struck at the appearance of the strange man whom they had so much wondered at, that they threw away their arms, lea¡ ed out of the windows, or hid themselves in the cel lars." In less than fifteen minutes the crazy king and his crew killed two hundred of the Turks from his windows. They had, at last, to burn him out. He dashed in among them, cutting right and left. The account of the scene in Voltaire, is exceedingly amusing. Don Quixote never equaled the feat.