A Summer's Cruise in the Waters of Greece, Turkey, and Russia

Preface

. More than thirty years ago, Mr. Curzon, upon the publication of his most entertaining book on " The Monasteries of the Levant," said, " The public is already overwhelmed with little volumes about palm trees and camels, and re flections on the pyramids." Since that overwhelmed period, volumes of a similar kind have continued to pour forth from the press, and what condition the public is now in it would be rather difficult for me to say. I would not add to the discomfort of the reading world by increasing the deluge even to the extent of a single drop. Certainly my book is about the East, but not about palm trees, camels, and pyramids. My wanderings led me away from these, on a line not usually taken by travellers, and I hope, therefore, that those who look into my treasury will find things new as well as old.

In dealing with Constantinople, I have thought well to sketch the rise and spread of Islam, and to describe its ecclesiastical constitution and the phases of its religious life, in order that the character and policy of the Ottoman people might be more clearly understood ; and for the same reason with regard to the people of Russia, I have added a chapter on the Russo-Greek Church, and another on that scourge of the Russian national life — Nihilism. To all readers interested in Biblical incident the chapter illusi * VI preface. trative of the movements of the Apostle Paul will be welcome. My excuse for an account of Gibraltar must be the importance of the fortress. It was the most attractive feature in the scenery on the way home. My thanks are due to those authors whose works have largely assisted my observations, and increased the pleasure of my voyage ; and I would also most gratefully acknowledge the kindness of Mr. Edward Hain, senr., of St. Ives, Cornwall, and Mr. Richard Hain, of Cardiff, master mariners, and all other friends who contributed to make the voyage, not only possible, but enjoyable. A. C. Oct. ist, 1887. CONTENTS.

Chapter I. Outward Bound

-AGE Newport — Fog in the Channel — Bay of Biscay — Whales — Spanish fishermen — Cape Finisterre — Corunna, and Sir John Moore — The minor incidents of war — Service off Vigo — Battle of Vigo Bay — Portuguese trade winds — Sea-sickness and imaginative sounds — Rock of Lisbon — Harbours of refuge — Flag signalling — Cape St. Vincent — Sagras Point — Cuttle-fish — Petrels — Nelson and Trafalgar — Miscarriage of the Smyrna fleet — Mountains of Southern Spain — Roman Catholic ecclesiasticism — Blue waters — North Africa — Cape Bon — Earthquakes — Bed of the Mediterranean — Pantellaria — Sicily — Phosphorescent waters — Greece I

Chapter II. The Shores And Islands Of The

ÆGEAN SEA. Navarino — Cape Matapan — Gulf of Laconia — Homer — Lycurgus and his laws — Sparta — Cape Malea, or St. Angelo — The eremite — Eastern Church — Beaticus — Cerigo — The Ægean Sea — Cliffs — Islands — Milo — Serpho and Siphanto — The Cyclades — Deli — Its origin — Its oracle — Confederacy of Delos — Religious festivities — Palm tree — Asylum — Earthquake — Paros — Disgrace of Miltiades — Naxia — Mycone — Tenos — Image of the Virgin — Superstition — Andria — Gyrae — Audacious impiety — Zea and Thermia — Simonides — Byron's Haidee — View from Syra — Marathon — Patmos and St. John — Samos and Polycrates — Pythagoras — Scio — Sharks — Sunset — Lesbos — The CONTENTS. VIII PAGE iiy Northern Ægean— The plains of Troy— Tenedos— Lemnos— Imbros— Thassos — Samothracia — Its grandeur — Worship of the Cabiri — Deluge — Scenery — Mount Athos and its monasteries 3°

Chapter III. Syra

The town — Its appearance — Harbour — Public square — The people — Costumes — Cafes — Wineshops — Market — Trades — Speech — English in Syra — Italian man-of-war — Visit to country garden — Beautiful evening — Singing on the forecastle — Church of the Resurrection — Church of St. Nicholas — Woman and child — Older churches — Sacred pictures — Infirmary — St. Bartholomew's Hospital — Funeral — The observance of Sunday — St. John's Eve : its bonfires, and their origin — Pherecydes — The story of Eumæus ........ 86

Chapter IV. The Waterways Of Constantinople

The two waterways — Railway system — Isolation of Constantinople — Scenery of the Dardanelles — Sea-fowl — Chanak — Sestos and Abydos — Leander — Byron — The army of Xerxes, and its passage across the Hellespont — Alexander — Julius Cæsar — The Turkish invasion — Bride of Abydos — Fortifications — Damage to an English fleet — Turkish boatmen — Œgospotami — The River Granicus — Gallipoli — Origin of the Janizaries — Boulair —Sea of Marmora : its shores and islands — Scenery of the Bosphorus — The Symplegades — The Giant's grave — The Genoese castles — Therapia — Deep waters — The castles of Asia and Europe — Cemeteries — Suburbs of Constantinople .

Chapter V. The City Of Constantinople

Moonlight view — Suggestions — Morning— Origin — Situation- General description— Population— Old seraglio— Armoury and Museum— St. Sophia; its construction— Byzantine model CONTENTS. IX PAGE 192 Ecclesiastical furniture and service — Mosque — The bloody hand — External appearance — The Achmedie — The Suliemanie — The Pigeon mosque — Mosque of Ortakeui — Palace of Dolma Bagtche— The Sultan's life— Church of the Fountain— Pera— Galata — Hamals — Old round tower — Genoese — Fires — Atmei dan : its obelisk — Meta — Twisted serpents — The Nika sedition — Triumph of Belisarius — Revolutions, and destruction of the Janizaries — Burnt column — Galata bridge — Mosque of the Sultana Valide — Women — Dogs — Beggars — Bazaars — Walls — Latin siege — Arab sieges — Turkish designs — Bajazet and Tamerlane — Turkish siege — Golden Horn — Caiques — Story of an English seaman — Leander's tower — Scutari — Selimie barracks and English cemetery ....... 144

Chapter VI. Islam

Origin — Knowledge of Islam important — Condition of the Christian Church — Condition of Arabia — Birth of Mohammed — Personal appearance and character — Hanyfism — Mecca and Medina — Rapid spread of Islam under the perfect Caliphate — A localized religion — National embodiments — Claim of the Sultan to the Caliphate, and to the title of Imaum-ul-lslam — Its influence upon the foreign and domestic policy of the Sublime Porte — The Mahdi — God — The Koran — Prayer — Almsgiving — Fast of Ramadan — Pilgrimage to Mecca — Disallowance of gambling, usury, and the use of wine-War — Slavery — Woman — The royal Seraglio — Paradise — Ulema — Imaums — Preaching — Muezzins — Mysticism — Dancing dervishes — Howling dervishes — Influence of Islam on Turkish life and character

Chapter VII. The Black Sea And The Sea Of Azov

The Black Sea — Name — Sunset — The hoopoe — Eastern legend — Acalephæ — Porpoises — Rapidity of motion — Crimea — St. Vladimir — His baptism — Massacre of the Tartars — British bravery —Fortifications — Russian officials — Kertch — Green Waters — Straits of Yenikale — Sea of Azov — Sturgeon — Smaller fish — Pelican — Mosquitoes — Robins — Russian fowls — Dragon-fly — Locusts — Lightning — Mirage X CONTENTS. PAGE

Chapter VIII. Town And Country Scenes In South Russia

The great plain — Flat land around the Sea of Azov — Taganrog — Shallow water — An ice accident — Streets and buildings — Public gardens — The Czar's palace — Death of Alexander — Visit to the palace — Journey to Rostoff — Tumuli — Grain tract — Sunflowers — Hamlets — Kingfishers — The delta of the Don — Horses — The city of Azov — Tamerlane — Turks and Russians — Peter the Great — Rostoff — Circus — Wool-washing — Central Asian route — Selim's attempt to open it — Napoleon and Paul — House of Romanoff 248

Chapter IX. The Russian Peoples

Different races — Muscovy and the Muscovites — House of Rurik — Cossacks and Tartars — Cossack troops — Music — No middle class— Artificial government — The tchin — Its effect — Personal appearance of the State officials — Lower orders — Contrast between the Russians and the Greeks — Dress — Dhrosky drivers — Recreation — Tea-drinking — Vatke — Domestic life — Marriage customs— Woman— Women's rights — Education of women— Development of trade— Jews and Greeks— Russian labourers— Development of particular industries— Cotton- Woollen, silk, iron, oil, &c— Repressive power of the Government—Domestic policy— Foreign aggression . . . .276

Chapter X. Nihilism

Peculiar to Russia— Origin of the name— Misleading term— Its creed : religious and social— Raskolniks and Jews— Political creed— Moderate and advanced sections— Organization— Subterranean press— Conversations— Official converts— Weapons -Adherents-Students-Women-Disaffected aristocracy- Mercantile classes— Peasantry— Veneration for the Czar— CONTENTS. XI PAGE 3°3 Cossacks — Causes — Characteristics of the Russian peoples — Liberties of Novgorod — Rural Communism — Invasion of Tar tars, and rise of absolutism — Introduction of the tchin — Politi cal agitation in the early part of the nineteenth century — Peasant revolts — Government interference — The Nihilistic struggle— The Czar— The people— The future of Russia .

Chapter XI. The Russo-greek Church

Introduction of Christianity — The two legends — Olga and Vladimir — Influence upon the nation, and alliance with the Czars — Independence — Michael ancl Philaret — Splendour of the patriarchate — Nicon — Peter the Great — Suppression of the patriarchate — Synod — Reforms — National Church — Architecture — Cathedral at Taganrog — Clergy — Monks and monasteries — Hermits — Doctrines — Liturgy — Veneration for pictures — Baptism — Confirmation — Chrism : its preparation — Visitation of the sick — Marriage service — Bells — Choirs — Description of a service — Noisy Sabbath — Saints : catacombs at Kief — Martyrs — The persecution of the Uniates — Raskolniks — Starovers — Safeguards against dissent — Constantinople .... 326

Chapter XII. On The Track Of St

PAUL. Sacred associations — Apostolic authority of St. Paul — His character — Value of geographical observations in confirming the truthfulness of Scriptural incident — Conybeare and Howson's "St. Paul " — Voyage from Malta to Sicily — Castor and Pollux — The Euroclydon in Adria — Drifting of the vessel — St. Paul's behaviour during the storm — Ship's course from Corinth to Ephesus — Ayasaluk — Syra — Priscilla and Aquila — The shorn head — Troubles in the Corinthian Church — Alexandria Troas — The journey thither — Voyage to Philippi — Scenery — Sunrise — St. Luke — Second visit to Troas — Third visit to Troas — Affection for the Philippians — Preaching at Troas, and accident to Eutychus — Walk to Assos, and voyage down the coast — Fourth visit to Troas — Arrest and martyrdom CONTENTS. PAGE

Chapter XIII. The Sentinel Of The Mediterranean

Eastern side of the Rock in the early morning — Western side — Clear waters of the bay — Surroundings — Town — Moors — Castle — Name — Capture by the British in 1704 — Siege of 1705 — 1727 — 1779 to 17S3 — Natural strength — Strategical position — Caverns — "Munitions of rocks" — Climate — Inhabitants — Smuggling — A soldier's conversion — Drive to Europa Point — Stranded steamer — Fauna — View from the summit — Current through the Straits — Beyond the "gates." . . , . 385

Chapter XIV. Old England

Fire on the Spanish land— Sagras Point and Cape St. Vincent— Sea-fowl— Land seen through the haze — Healthy breeze — Bay of Biscay— Old England— The Lizard Lights— Coast of Cornwall — Falmouth Harbour — Home ...... A SUMMER'S CRUISE.

Chapter I. Outward Bound

Newport — Fog in the Channel — Bay of Biscay — Whales — Spanish fishermen — Cape Finisterre — Corunna, and Sir John Moore — The minor incidents of war — Service off Vigo — Battle of Vigo Bay — Portuguese trade winds — Sea-sickness and imaginative sounds — Rock of Lisbon — Harbours of refuge — Flag signalling — Cape St. Vincent — Sagras Point — Cuttle-fish — Petrels — Nelson and Trafalgar — Miscarriage of the Smyrna fleet — Mountains of Southern Spain — Roman Catholic ecclesiasticism — Blue waters — North Africa — Cape Bon — Earthquakes — Bed of the Mediterranean — Pantellaria — Sicily — Phosphorescent waters — Greece. Newport, in South Wales, is not the most picturesque town in Great Britain, and any one embarking there on a voyage to the Mediterranean would do his utmost to hasten the departure.

The higher part of the town is the pleasanter part, and, when you get high enough to look inland, an interesting view of wooded hills and valleys stretches tempt ingly before you. But the desire to ramble is checked when the fact forces itself upon you that the steamer is in the dock, expecting every tide to drop down the river into the channel and bear you away to new and lovelier scenes. The nearer you get to the docks, the more uninviting Newport becomes. The streets are dustier ; traffic increases; dirty men and women, and dirtier children, linger about the shops, and on the doorsteps, and near the public-houses ; the rattle of coal waggons is more distinct as they are run to the dock side, lifted by powerful hydraulic machines thirty feet above the vessel, their contents tipped into the hold, and then, empty and rattling still more, run down the incline, while the fine particles of coal blow about in clouds, and settle thickly upon the decks of the vessel, and the wharves, and the offices, and the workmen, and the water.

It was flood-tide at midnight. The docks were silent. The coal dust had all settled. The Treloske lay under the electric light, which, from the lantern of the lighthouse, quivered and streamed into the night, burying in denser darkness everything outside its radius, and weirdly illumina ting everything within. There was the hurry of departure ; men's voices giving and receiving orders, and saying " Good bye ! " amid the noise of ropes and chains, and the hiss of steam; and, when stretched in the berth and weariedly closing the eyes, these mingled sounds formed themselves into an unusual lullaby. The morning broke through mists, and right ahead, as if it too were awaking from a sound sleep, and pushing aside its wrappings, was Lundy Island. The dark brown hills rose above a cloud of white vapour that rested upon and mingled with the grey sea.

It appeared as much an island in the air as in the water, and seemed every moment inclined to wrap itself in its mists again and go to sleep, which it finally did, so far as our observation went ; and so did the hills of North Devon. They had been cautiously peering through the mists, withdrawing here and disclosing there, alternately hiding and revealing their loveliness like some beauteous moving form in gossamer, until at last the mists closed in, and rolled over the grey waters and about the ship ; and, at half speed, blowing the fog signal, a dismal operation, we passed along the Cornish coast, vainly hoping that the fog would lift sufficiently to permit a run into St. Ives Bay. Friends there knew we were passing down the coast, and we wished to give them a parting whistle. But no ! thicker and thicker grew the fog ; the soundings showed twenty-seven fathoms, with a bottom of shells and pebbles, and we judged ourselves off St. Ives Head ; later on we had thirty-five fathoms, and toward midnight we heard the warning fog-horn of the Sevenstones lightship off the Land's End, and spake with a Newlyn fishing boat, by which we sent our last message home.

In the morning we were entering the Bay of Biscay. The sky was clear ; the sea was calm ; the long dark blue billows of the Atlantic were so subdued as to make scarcely any perceptible difference to the motion of the vessel. A large sailing ship, the Winnifrcd, with sails all set, was gently rising and falling with the swell of the sea. Several passengers, among whom were women and children, were moving about the deck, some of them perhaps impatiently, for she made little, if any, progress, and we steamed past, and speedily lost her as she dipped below the receding horizon. The Bay of Biscay was on its very best behaviour. The boundless expanse of azure overhead appeared to deny the possibility of roaring thunders and sweeping rains ; but, in the long majestic swell of the indigo deep beneath, sub dued as it was, there was the suggestion of magnificent and irresistible billows before which the boldest mariner might quake, and in the midst of which no ship could live.

What tales of terror ; what exhibitions of fortitude and bravery ; what loving attempts to rescue friends from peril, and to rescue " nearer and dearer " ones still, attempts no less loving because wearied and vain ; what strange and varied secrets of human life and destiny lie hidden beneath the troubled surface of those dark blue waters, hidden deep enough never to be disturbed by the fiercest storm that blows, and never to be known till the sea shall give up its dead ! Sunday morning brought a fresh wind, with short, white capped waves, and haze in the distance. Half a mile off the starboard bow whales were spouting, the columns of water rising thirty feet, and falling in fountain-like spray, while the troubled sea in their track brought to mind the description of Job's leviathan, " He maketh a path to shine after him ; one would think the deep to be hoary."

And yet the whale, notwithstanding his bulk, is not half so terrible as Job's leviathan, but a timid and inoffensive animal, contented with his food of living jellies, and quite peaceable if only let alone. Spanish fishermen were out, looking very cold clad in shiny oilskins in the grey morning, their anchored boats tumbling uneasily upon the tide, but quite alive to business, Sunday as it was, and indicating in various ways their desire to barter fish for any other com modity we might have on board suitable to their needs or fancy. Among the rest we refused the tempting offer of a large live flat fish, held aloft at arm's length, and wriggling to and fro ; and passed on to view Cape Finisterre looming through the haze and growing more distinct with every turn of the propeller. To the north-east of Cape Finisterre the land runs out to the picturesque and memorable town of Corunna, the scene of a gallant struggle during the Peninsular War, and where, " Like a warrior, taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him," lie the remains of Sir John Moore.

The retreat of his small army closely pressed day by day by an overwhelming host under the personal command of Napoleon ; the unsel fish sacrifice of treasure (,£25,000 having to be thrown over a precipice, and left behind as a worthless impediment on the weary march); the cold, and hunger, and death; the harassing charges of the French cavalry among the frost bitten stragglers, who fell trodden beneath the horses' hoofs, or sabred, or were made prisoners ; and, withal, the orderly movement, the patient endurance, the calm fortitude of the men, inspired by the example of their general, won the warm commendation of Napoleon and Soult, and led Napoleon to exclaim — not having yet proved the genius of Wellington — that Moore was the only general living worthy to contend with him. And when, at last, 20,000 veterans of the French army reached Corunna at the same time as the English fleet appeared in the offing, the 14,000 English remaining after that devastating march faced about, and bought a dear victory by the death of their commander ; for while the French were falling back everywhere before the impetuous fighting of desperate men, Sir John Moore was dashed from his horse by a cannon-shot, and carried away with broken ribs and flesh torn and mangled to die in a foreign land.

Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little he'll reck if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him. Who shall chronicle the minor incidents of war? We remember the great men, and the broad outlines of every important struggle ; but the private has a personal history. The woman and child, who once followed the camp because the husband and father was in the ranks, felt the keenness of the struggle ; and the woman and child, who now wait, expectantly fearful and trembling, at home, also feel the keenness of the struggle. The misery of war is not confined to the march, and the camp, and the battle-field. It extends far beyond. The nobility of its personal incidents is not always recorded in the fleeting records of our newspapers, in the permanent pages of our literature, in the imperishable marbles of our national mausoleums.

Many noble incidents remain unknown. During that fearful retreat through the snow in the north-western portion of the Spanish peninsula, an officer, overcome with fatigue, perishing for lack of food, persuaded that his end was come, turned aside into a wood to die unseen, and there, laid upon the ground, nearly dead, was a soldier's wife, protecting as best she could her little babe, and, with a last effort, she besought him to take the babe and save its life. Her appeal was like the infusion of new strength. He took the infant and rejoined his com rades, and, sustained by the trust of the dying woman, continued the march, carrying the infant upon his back, and never forsaking it until he had safely seen it in tender hands on board a transport in Vigo Bay. Surely this is not a solitary instance !

Our records of human life would be very much richer if incidents such as these — the minor incidents of war — were gathered together ; and beneath the terrible aspect of war, an aspect which all its pretended glory can not soften and commend to right thinking men, we should see that chivalry exists — that often they who have little to do with its wickedness, and much to do with its hardship and agony, are men of noble spirit, generous sympathy, and loving hearts. Cape Finisterre, the European Land's End, and, before the days of Columbus, thought to be the western extremity of the earth, is not a picturesque promontory. Its rounded hill and detached rocks, cold and sombre in the morning light, the rising sun shining behind them and throwing them in the shade, were passed quickly ; and we steamed along beneath a beautiful sky, and through the dark blue waters, until the late afternoon brought us off Vigo.

There, under an awning aft, we held a service, joining in the praise of Him whose the sea is, and who made it ; and meditating upon the charity which springs from Him, wide, and free, and all-encompassing as the sea, and which, embodied in human life, as the mainspring and chief glory of human character, never faileth. Other than songs of praise have been heard in these waters. Other than feelings of heaven-born charity have animated men's hearts. Songs of warlike triumph have rung from lips blackened with powder, or reddened beyond their wonted redness with warm, fresh blood. Feelings of slaughter have burned in the bosoms of English and Dutch, anxious to crash in through the formidable boom protecting the French navy and Spanish merchantmen in Vigo Bay. It was years ago, in the early days of Queen Anne, when Louis XIV. claimed the Spanish crown for his grandson, and thereby reopened a struggle with England and Holland, whose combined arms, under the indomitable Prince of Orange, he had learned both to respect and dread ; and the English and Dutch, then the bravest sailors afloat, fearing no foe, and shrinking from no danger on that element which had become their second home, made straight for Vigo, where lay the wealthy Spanish galleons under the convoy of the French men-of-war.

The first vessel to strike the boom, which was nearly 500 yards long, and moored at each end to heavy ships, was the Torbay, and through the rending timbers she went, only to find herself between two vessels who swept her right and left with their thundering cannon, and speedily set all her rigging aflame. But on came the rest, the Dutch admiral alone, however, entering the breach with his vessel. The others, the wind having died away, had to lower their boats, and send their men eagerly clam bering to the fray over the shattered boom. The Dutch admiral rendered timely aid, and the Torbay was saved, not so much by him as by one of those freaks of war that some times happen ; for the vessel she was engaged with had been a merchantman, and so hastily fitted up for warfare that her cargo had never been removed ; and her cargo consisted of snuff, which, when the vessel blew up, extinguished the fire.

The flames were literally snuffed out, and the gallant Torbay saved. The fight was fierce and terrible. No less than eight vessels were burned, and four were sunk ; and much treasure in silver coin and plate, and costly merchandise, enriched the combined victorious fleets. The seas roar, and the floods clap their hands ; but there is One who " stilleth the noise of the seas, the noise of their waves, and the tumult of the people." To-day the seas were calm ; no trace of conflict lingered on the deep ; all thought of conflict was hushed by our sweet evening hymn; the sun was sinking in the western ocean, wrapped in soft and many-coloured clouds, which, reflected in the ocean, transformed it into a pavement of sapphire suffused and chastened with amber, and emerald, and amethyst — a quietude of splendour, the counterpart of that to be pro duced by God's all-obliterating, all-conquering, never-failing charity, when it shall cover the earth with heaven's eternal peace.

By the next day we were fairly within the compass of the Portuguese trade winds. These winds are very helpful to sailing vessels proceeding south, and as great a hindrance to those going north. The current sets southwards too, and merges itself in that current which incessantly flows through the Straits of Gibraltar into the Mediterranean. Sea-sickness, of a very slight nature, had already disturbed me, and was here renewed ; and it appeared as if the inability to poise the body, and walk steadily along the ship's deck, were not only an aggravation, but a partial cause, of the sickness. The loss of the body's equilibrium seems to have some direct relation with the stomach's distress ; qualms of sickness pass over one when the foot strikes the deck sooner or later than the mind reckons upon ; and, certainly, sickness is almost, if not altogether, overcome by the acquire ment of what are popularly known as " sea-legs."

When a man gets his sea-legs on he may defy sickness. But when, under stress of weather, old Neptune robs him again of his sea-legs, sickness once more creeps over him, and he longs for terra firma. When suffering from sickness, a peculiar phenomenon of the imagination several times presented itself, for which I could not account on the grounds of association, or in any other way. One day I heard the sounds of horses' hoofs and the interminable rattle of traffic in busy streets ; another day I heard birds singing, and could distinguish from among the rest the notes of the thrush and the cuckoo. Both these imaginative phenomena I became conscious of in the Bay of Biscay. Again, off the African coast, in the neighbourhood of Algiers, while seated reading on the forecastle, I heard the sound as of a brass band playing in the far distance ; and next day, near Cape Bon, as I lay in my berth, the ringing of church bells, subdued by distance, fell pleasantly upon my ears.

The sounds were present with me, in the imagination, before I became fully conscious of them, and upon becoming fully conscious, and in the effort to dis tinctly realize them, they faded away. They belonged to a half dreamy mental attitude induced by the slight sickness, and were never present except at such times. There was nothing in the ship, or on the sea, or about the appearance of the African land to suggest these sounds by way of association ; and, if the current of my mind happened to be in the direction of busy streets or bird-haunted woodlands, martial music or calls to prayer, and my imagination was quickened thereby to apprehend these sounds, I was not at the time aware of it, nor can I recall it now. The Berlings, a group of dangerous rocks, or small islands, off the coast of Portugal, came within view.

About their bases the blue sea was breaking into white rolling surge, and from the largest rock, a white lighthouse, like a calm and lonely sentinel, overlooked the snowy tide. This rock is fortified, and used by the Portuguese Govern ment as a State prison. The coast of Portugal here runs in a south-westerly direction towards the towering Rock of Lisbon. This mountainous promontory, the seaward ter mination of the Serra de Estrella, forms the most westerly point of the European continent. The scenery in the neighbourhood of the Rock of Lisbon is charming. The interest grows as you approach the rock. Village succeeds village, half hidden in vines ; a large monastery crowns the fertile slope, and, through its hundred windows, looks over the white villages to the distant purple sea ; the vivid green of the vineyards becomes more and more largely interspersed with greens of darker shades, and groves grow into woods, and woods into forests clambering up the steep sides of the promontory ; here and there are chasms, where the shadows gather deep and thick, and the water leaps, in a thousand cascades, to the roaring torrent below, while over the chasms, on either side, rise the straight pines; and these same pines, overtopping the other trees, still clamber upwards to where the face of the hill is broken by the bare rocky precipice, and stay not there, but, above the precipice, planting their feet on its verge, still clamber upwards, attempting, and yet vainly attempting, to reach the summit ; for the stately hill lifts its brown head far above the pines, and woos the clouds, floating in from the Atlantic, to stoop and kiss it, and linger about it, and bathe it in their virgin dews, before proceeding on their mission of mercy to remote and less favoured lands.