represented him as sitting with his
companions before a stone table, asleep, and with
his head resting in the hollow of his hand.
His beard, people said, has grown through
the table and now reaches to his feet. He nods
perpetually with his head, and blinks with
his eyes, for he is one who is not sound asleep,
but is about soon to awake.

Legends borrowed from this story of the
Emperor Frederick, of later date, and never
like their great original, extensively and
seriously credited, have been created on
behalf of Charlemagne at Nuremberg, and of
Frederick the Fourth at Salzburg. A more
genuine superstition of the same kind is that
of the Three Tells.

William Tell, multiplied by three, has
been waiting ever since his death in a
cavern, near the Lake of Uri, ready to come
forward in the day of his country's greatest
need. A young shepherd, lost among the
mountains, found the sleepers in their cavern.
The eldest, the real Tell, stood up and asked,
"What time is it in the world?" The boy,
frightened out of his wits, replied, "High
noon." "It is not yet time for us to come,"
said Tell, and fell asleep again. The boy's
father afterwards went out to wake the Tells
whenever he heard that the country was in
danger, but neither father nor son ever found
the cave.

Of dwarfs, giants, and heroes, we all know
tales enough. I shall set down only the
theory explaining their existence.

Dwarfs were made when the earth was ill-
cultivated and sparely peopled, because the
mountains were full of silver, gold, and precious things
—stones that gave strength, invisibility, and
other virtues. Now, the dwarfs went among
these, and had a special power of understanding
them. They made fine hollow
mountains, and had riches given them by Heaven.
When men began to speculate upon old
legends and call them myths, dwarfs were
said to be the symbols of the busy working
classes, whom it should be the care of every
brave knight to protect.

Giants were created to destroy wild beasts
and dragons, and so to provide more safety
for the dwarfs; but, as by great increase, the
giants would become too many for the dwarfs
and bring them into trouble, heroes were
called up to protect dwarfs against unjust
giants, and generally to keep giants, and all
forces likely to be misdirected, under proper
check.

It would be easy to work out an allegory
here if it were worth while, but these things
were not received as allegory by the
unlearned, and (except the poets) rarely indeed
by the learned or the wise, until the sixteenth
century was ended.

I meant to have included in the list of
human monsters, wehr-wolves and lamias,
but these are the links that connect man
with beast in superstition; and something
about supernatural beasts, birds, and fishes,
plants and stones, I hope at a future
time to have an opportunity of saying.
Then we shall have galloped post across
the realm of superstition, taking four
stages from border to border.

TURKS UNDER ARMS.

No spectacle is more distressingly spoilt by
a wet day than a review of troops. However
they may stand fire, your men of pipeclay
look ridiculous enough under a heavy volley
of water from the great sky-batteries.
Turkish soldiers, perhaps, are not men of
pipeclay; at any rate, I have never seen them
under water. When I did see some of them
reviewed we had a splendid day under the
azure sky Constantinopolitan; we were all full
of military ardour—it was last October when
we had just buckled on our fighting minds—
and we poured out of the suburbs of Pera
and Galata with immense enthusiasm to that
choice promenade, the Great Field of the
Dead. There we were to see the Turkish
troops, inspected and encouraged by his
Highness the Sultan.

This potentate, only a few days previously,
had assembled the Grand National Council,
and, by voluntarily renouncing the absolute
exercise of his own power, in some way or
other, given an example of some sort
unparalleled in Turkish annals. The people were
gratified not only by this event, but also by
the decided steps taken in the Russian question.
The liberals were in a state of absolute
enthusiasm, and all classes were stirred with
unusual excitement.

The review was nothing special in itself, it
was the one which takes place every year at
the examination of the students of the
Polytechnic School.

The Great Field of the Dead at Pera,
has a magnificent site, and is famous for
the holiday gaieties that take place there.
Holidays at Constantinople fall on nearly
all days of the week. Friday is the holiday
of the Turks, Saturday is the holiday
of the Jews, and Sunday is the holiday of
Christians; besides these there are Greek,
Armenian, Catholic, and Hebrew holidays of
many kinds, and be the holiday-keeper Greek,
Armenian, Turk or Jew, the chances are
three to one that he comes out to enjoy
himself upon the Great Field of the Dead. The
Field of the Dead is a vast plain full of
poplars, cypresses, tombs, coffee-shops, sherbet-
stalls, and tents of story-tellers. The tents
and stalls spring up and disappear from one
hour to another: established, perhaps, under
the shade of a tree, or monument: or perhaps
taking a commanding position on the top of
a large tomb.

On one side of this plain, sacred to death
and frolic, is a long broad road, commonly
well crowded with French cabriolets; with
taliches,—a taliche is a coach like a cradle, in
which passengers recline; and with flarabas