which is only an hour's ride from Caracalla, and stands in a little

field surrounded by the forest. It is distant from the sea about four

miles, and is protected, like all the others, by a high stone wall

surrounding the whole of the building. The church is curious and

interesting; it is ornamented with representations of saints, and holy

men in fresco, upon the walls of the interior and in the porch. I could

not make out when it was built, but probably before the twelfth century.

Arsenius, Philotheus, and Dionysius were the founders, but who they were

did not appear. The monastery was repaired, and the refectory enlarged

and painted, in the year 1492, by Leontius, ο βασιλευς Καχετιου, and his

son Alexander. I was shown the reliquaries, but they were not

remarkable. The monks said they had no library; and there being nothing

of interest in the monastery, I determined to go on. Indeed the

expression of the faces of some of these monks was so unprepossessing,

and their manners so rude, although not absolutely uncivil, that I did

not feel any particular inclination to remain amongst them, so leaving a

small donation for the church, I mounted my mule and proceeded on my

journey.

In half an hour I came to a beautiful waterfall in a rocky glen

embosomed in trees and odoriferous shrubs, the rocks being of white

marble, and the flowers such as we cherish in greenhouses in England. I

do not know that I ever saw a more charmingly romantic spot. Another

hour brought us to the great monastery of

IVERON, or IBERON,

(the Georgian, or Iberian, Monastery.)

This monastic establishment is of great size. It is larger than St.

Laura, and might almost be denominated a small fortified town, so

numerous are the buildings and courts which are contained within its

encircling wall. It is situated near the sea, and in its general form is

nearly square, with four or five square towers projecting from the

walls. On each of the four sides there are rooms for above two hundred

monks. I did not learn precisely how many were then inhabiting it, but I

should imagine there were above a hundred. As, however, many of the

members of all the religious communities on Mount Athos are employed in

cultivating the numerous farms which they possess, it is probable that

not more than one-half of the monks are in residence at any one time.

This monastery was founded by Theophania (Theodora?), wife of the

Emperor Romanus, the son of Leo Sophos,[17] or the Philosopher, between

the years 919 and 922. It was restored by a Prince of Georgia or

Iberia, and enlarged by his son, a caloyer. The church is dedicated to

the "repose of the Virgin." It has four or five domes, and is of

considerable size, standing by itself, as usual, in the centre of the

great court, and is ornamented with columns and other decorations of

rich marbles, together with the usual fresco paintings on the walls.

The library is a remarkably fine one, perhaps altogether the most

precious of all those which now remain on the holy mountain. It is

situated over the porch of the church, which appears to be the usual

place where the books are kept in these establishments. The room is of

good size, well fitted up with bookcases with glass doors, of not very

old workmanship. I should imagine that about a hundred years ago, some

agoumenos, or prior, or librarian, must have been a reading man; and the

pious care which he took to arrange the ancient volumes of the monastery

has been rewarded by the excellent state of preservation in which they

still remain. Since his time, they have probably remained undisturbed.

Every one could see through the greenish uneven panes of old glass that

there was nothing but books inside, and therefore nobody meddled with

them. I was allowed to rummage at my leisure in this mine of

archæological treasure. Having taken up my abode for the time being in a

cheerful room, the windows of which commanded a glorious prospect, I

soon made friends with the literary portion of the community, which

consisted of one thin old monk, a cleverish man, who united to many

other offices that of librarian. He was also secretary to my lord the

agoumenos, a kind-hearted old gentleman, who seemed to wish everybody

well, and who evidently liked much better to sit still on his divan than

to regulate the affairs of his convent. The rents, the long lists of

tuns of wine and oil, the strings of mules laden with corn, which came

in daily from the farms, and all the other complicated details of this

mighty cœenobium,--over all these, and numberless other important

matters, the thin secretary had full control.

Some of the young monks, demure fat youths, came into the library every

now and then, and wondered what I could be doing there, looking over so

many books; and they would take a volume out of my hand when I had done

with it, and, glancing their eyes over its ancient vellum leaves, would

look up inquiringly into my face, saying, "[Greek: ti ene τι ενε]?--what

is it?--what can be the use of looking at such old books as these?" They

were rather in awe of the secretary, who was evidently, in their

opinion, a prodigy of learning and erudition. Some, in a low voice, that

they might not be overheard by the wise man, asked me where I came from,

how old I was, and whether my father was with me; but they soon all went

away, and I turned to, in right good earnest, to look for uncial

manuscripts and unknown classic authors. Of these last there was not

one on vellum, but on paper there was an octavo manuscript of Sophocles,

and a Coptic Psaltery with an Arabic translation--a curious book to meet

with on Mount Athos. Of printed books there were, I should think, about

five thousand--of manuscripts on paper, about two thousand; but all

religious works of various kinds. There were nearly a thousand

manuscripts on vellum, and these I looked over more carefully than the

rest. About one hundred of them were in the Iberian language: they were

mostly immense thick quartos, some of them not less than eighteen inches

square, and from four to six inches thick. One of these, bound in wooden

boards, and written in large uncial letters, was a magnificent old

volume. Indeed all these Iberian or Georgian manuscripts were superb

specimens of ancient books. I was unable to read them, and therefore

cannot say what they were; but I should imagine that they were church

books, and probably of high antiquity. Among the Greek manuscripts,

which were principally of the eleventh and twelfth centuries--works of

St. Chrysostom, St. Basil, and books for the services of the ritual--I

discovered the following, which are deserving of especial mention:--A

large folio Evangelistarium bound in red velvet, about eighteen inches

high and three thick, written in magnificent uncial letters half an inch

long, or even more. Three of the illuminations were the whole size of

the page, and might almost be termed pictures from their large

proportions: and there were several other illuminations of smaller size

in different parts of the book. This superb manuscript was in admirable

preservation, and as clean as if it had been new. It had evidently been

kept with great care, and appeared to have had some clasps or ornaments

of gold or silver which had been torn off. It was probably owing to the

original splendour of this binding that the volume itself had been so

carefully preserved. I imagine it was written in the ninth century.

Another book, of a much greater age, was a copy of the four Gospels,

with four finely-executed miniatures of the evangelists. It was about

nine or ten inches square, written in round semiuncial letters in double

columns, with not more than two or three words in a line. In some

respects it resembled the book of the Epistles in the Bodleian Library

at Oxford. This manuscript, in the original black leather binding, had

every appearance of the highest antiquity. It was beautifully written

and very clean, and was altogether such a volume as is not to be met

with every day.

A quarto manuscript of the four Gospels, of the eleventh or twelfth

century, with a great many (perhaps fifty) illuminations. Some of them

were unfortunately rather damaged.

Two manuscripts of the New Testament, with the Apocalypse.

A very fine manuscript of the Psalms, of the eleventh century, which is

indeed about the era of the greater portion of the vellum manuscripts on

Mount Athos.

There were also some ponderous and magnificent folios of the works of

the fathers of the Church--some of them, I should think, of the tenth

century; but it is difficult, in a few hours, to detect the

peculiarities which prove that manuscripts are of an earlier date than

the twelfth century. I am, however, convinced that very few of them were

written after that time.

The paper manuscripts were of all ages, from the thirteenth and

fifteenth centuries down to a hundred years ago; and some of them, on

charta bombycina, would have appeared very splendid books if they had

not been eclipsed by the still finer and more carefully-executed

manuscripts on vellum.

Neither my arguments nor my eloquence could prevail on the obdurate

monks to sell me any of these books, but my friend the secretary gave me

a book in his own handwriting to solace me on my journey. It contained a

history of the monastery from the days of its foundation to the present

time. It is written in Romaic, and is curious not so much from its

subject matter as from the entire originality of its style and manner.

The view from the window of the room which I occupied at Iveron was one

of the finest on Mount Athos. The glorious sea, and the towers which

command the scaricatojos or landing-places of the different monasteries

along the coast, and the superb monastery of Stavroniketa like a Gothic

castle perched upon a beetling rock, with the splendid forest for a

background, formed altogether a picture totally above my powers to

describe. It almost compensated for the numberless tribes of vermin by

which the room was tenanted. In fact, the whole of the scenery on Mount

Athos is so superlatively grand and beautiful that it is useless to

attempt any description.

CHAPTER XXVI.

The Monastery of Stavroniketa--The Library--Splendid MS. of St.

Chrysostom--The Monastery of Pantocratoras--Ruinous Condition of

the Library--Complete Destruction of the

Books--Disappointment--Oration to the Monks--The Great Monastery of

Vatopede--Its History--Ancient Pictures in the Church--Legend of

the Girdle of the Blessed Virgin--The Library--Wealth and Luxury of

the Monks--The Monastery of Sphigmenou--Beautiful Jewelled

Cross--The Monastery of Kiliantari--Magnificent MS. in Gold Letters

on White Vellum--The Monasteries of Zographon, Castamoneta,

Docheirou, and Xenophou--The Exiled Bishops--The Library--Very fine

MSS.--Proposals for their Purchase--Lengthened Negotiations--Their

successful Issue.

An hour's ride brought us to the monastery of

STAVRONIKETA,

which is a smaller building than Iveron, with a square tower over the

gateway. It stands on a rock overhanging the sea, against the base of

which the waves ceaselessly beat. It was to this spot that a miraculous

picture of St Nicholas, archbishop of Myra in Lycia, floated over, of

its own accord, from I do not know where; and in consequence of this

auspicious event, Jeremias, patriarch of Constantinople, founded this

monastery, of "the victory of the holy cross," about the year 1522. This

is the account given by the monks; but from the appearance and

architecture of Stavroniketa, I conceive that it is a much older

building, and that probably the patriarch Jeremias only repaired or

restored it. However that may be, the monastery is in very good order,

clean, and well kept; and I had a comfortable frugal dinner there with

some of the good old monks, who seemed a cheerful and contented set.

The library contained about eight hundred volumes, of which nearly two

hundred were manuscripts on vellum. Amongst these were conspicuous the

entire works of St. Chrysostom, in eight large folio volumes complete;

and a manuscript of the Scala Perfectionis in Greek, containing a number

of most exquisite miniatures in a brilliant state of preservation. It

was a quarto of the tenth or eleventh century, and a most

unexceptionable tome, which these unkind monks preferred keeping to

themselves instead of letting me have it, as they ought to have done.

The miniatures were first-rate works of Byzantine art. It was a terrible

pang to me to leave such a book behind. There were also a Psalter with

several miniatures, but these were partially damaged; five or six copies

of the Gospels; two fine folio volumes of the Menologia, or Lives of the

Saints; and sundry ομοιλογο and books of divinity,

and the works of the fathers. On paper there were two hundred more

manuscripts, amongst which was a curious one of the Acts and Epistles,

full of large miniatures and illuminations exceedingly well done. As it

is quite clear that all these manuscripts are older than the time of the

patriarch Jeremias, they confirm my opinion that he could not have been

the original founder of the monastery.

It is an hour's scramble over the rocks from Stavroniketa to the

monastery of

PANTOCRATORAS.

This edifice was built by Manuel and Alexius Comnenus, and Johannes

Pumicerius, their brother. It was subsequently repaired by Barbulus and

Gabriel, two Wallachian nobles. The church is handsome and curious, and

contains several relics, but the reliquaries are not of much beauty, nor

of very great antiquity. Among them, however, is a small thick quarto

volume about five inches square every way, in the handwriting, as you

are told, of St. John of Kalavita. Now St. John of Kalavita was a hermit

who died in the year 450, and his head is shown at Besançon, in the

church of St. Stephen, to which place it was taken after the siege of

Constantinople. Howbeit this manuscript did not seem to me to be older

than the twelfth century, or the eleventh at the earliest It is written

in a very minute hand, and contains the Gospels, some prayers, and lives

of saints, and is ornamented with some small illuminations. The binding

is very curious: it is entirely of silver gilt, and is of great

antiquity. The back part is composed of an intricate kind of chainwork,

which bends when the book is opened, and the sides are embossed with a

variety of devices.

On my inquiring for the library, I was told it had been destroyed during

the revolution. It had formerly been preserved in the great square tower

or keep, which is a grand feature in all the monasteries. I went to look

at the place, and leaning through a ruined arch, I looked down into the

lower story of the tower, and there I saw the melancholy remains of a

once famous library. This was a dismal spectacle for a devout lover of

old books--a sort of biblical knight errant, as I then considered

myself, who had entered on the perilous adventure of Mount Athos to

rescue from the thraldom of ignorant monks those fair vellum volumes,

with their bright illuminations and velvet dresses and jewelled clasps,

which for so many centuries had lain imprisoned in their dark monastic

dungeons. It was indeed a heart-rending sight. By the dim light which

streamed through the opening of an iron door in the wall of the ruined

tower, I saw above a hundred ancient manuscripts lying among the rubbish

which had fallen from the upper floor, which was ruinous, and had in

great part given way. Some of these manuscripts seemed quite

entire--fine large folios; but the monks said they were unapproachable,

for that floor also on which they lay was unsafe, the beams below being

rotten from the wet and rain which came in through the roof. Here was a

trap ready set and baited for a bibliographical antiquary. I peeped at

the old manuscripts, looked particularly at one or two that were lying

in the middle of the floor, and could hardly resist the temptation. I

advanced cautiously along the boards, keeping close to the wall, whilst

every now and then a dull cracking noise warned me of my danger, but I

tried each board by stamping upon it with my foot before I ventured my

weight upon it. At last, when I dared go no farther, I made them bring

me a long stick, with which I fished up two or three fine manuscripts,

and poked them along towards the door. When I had safely landed them, I

examined them more at my ease, but found that the rain had washed the

outer leaves quite clean: the pages were stuck tight together into a

solid mass, and when I attempted to open them, they broke short off in

square bits like a biscuit. Neglect and damp and exposure had destroyed

them completely. One fine volume, a large folio in double columns, of

most venerable antiquity, particularly grieved me. I do not know how

many more manuscripts there might be under the piles of rubbish. Perhaps

some of them might still be legible, but without assistance and time I

could not clean out the ruins that had fallen from above; and I was

unable to save even a scrap from this general tomb of a whole race of

books. I came out of the great tower, and sitting down on a pile of

ruins, with a bearded assembly of grave caloyeri round me, I vented my

sorrow and indignation in a long oration, which however produced a very

slight effect upon my auditory; but whether from their not understanding

Italian, or my want of eloquence, is matter of doubt. My man was the

only person who seemed to commiserate my misfortune, and he looked so

genuinely vexed and sorry that I liked him the better ever afterwards.

At length I dismissed the assembly: they toddled away to their siesta,

and I, mounted anew upon a stout well-fed mule, bade adieu to the

hospitable agoumenos, and was soon occupied in picking my way among the

rocks and trees towards the next monastery. In two hours' time we passed

the ruins of a large building standing boldly on a hill. It had formerly

been a college; and a magnificent aqueduct of fourteen double

arches--that is, two rows of arches one above the other--connected it

with another hill, and had a grand effect, with long and luxuriant

masses of flowers streaming from its neglected walls. In half an hour

more I arrived at

VATOPEDE.

This is the largest and richest of all the monasteries of Mount Athos.

It is situated on the side of a hill where a valley opens to the sea,

and commands a little harbour where three small Greek vessels were lying

at anchor. The buildings are of great extent, with several towers and

domes rising above the walls: I should say it was not smaller than the

upper ward of Windsor Castle. The original building was erected by the

Emperor Constantine the Great. That worthy prince being, it appears,

much afflicted by the leprosy, ordered a number of little children to be

killed, a bath of juvenile blood being considered an excellent remedy.

But while they were selecting them, he was told in a vision that if he

would become a Christian his leprosy should depart from him: he did so,

and was immediately restored to health, and all the children lived long

and happily. This story is related by Moses Chorensis, whose veracity I

will not venture to doubt.

In the fifth century this monastery was thrown down by Julian the

Apostate. Theodosius the Great built it up again in gratitude for the

miraculous escape of his son Arcadius, who having fallen overboard from

his galley in the Archipelago, was landed safely on this spot through

the intercession of the Virgin, to whose special honour the great church

was founded: fourteen other chapels within the walls attest the piety of

other individuals. In the year 862 the Saracens landed, destroyed the

monastery by fire, slew many of the monks, took the treasures and broke

the mosaics; but the representation of the Blessed Virgin was

indestructible, and still remained safe and perfect above the altar.

There was also a well under the altar, into which some of the relics

were thrown and afterwards recovered by the community.

About the year 1300 St. Athanasius the Patriarch persuaded Nicholaus and

Antonius, certain rich men of Adrianople, to restore the monastery once

more, which they did, and taking the vows became monks, and were buried

in the narthex or portico of the church. I may here observe that this

was the nearest approach to being buried within the church that was

permitted in the early times of Christianity, and such is still the rule

observed in the Greek Church: altars were, however, raised over the

tombs or places of execution of martyrs.

This church contains a great many ancient pictures of small size, most

of them having the background overlaid with plates of silver-gilt: two

of these are said to be portraits of the Empress Theodora. Two other

pictures of larger size and richly set with jewels are interesting as

having been brought from the church of St. Sophia at Constantinople,

when that city fell a prey to the Turkish arms. Over the doors of the

church and of the great refectory there are mosaics representing, if I

remember rightly, saints and holy persons. One of the chapels, a

separate building with a dome which had been newly repaired, is

dedicated to the "Preservation of the Girdle of the Blessed Virgin," a

relic which must be a source of considerable revenue to the monastery,

for they have divided it into two parts, and one half is sent into

Greece and the other half into Asia Minor whenever the plague is raging

in those countries, and all those who are afflicted with that terrible

disease are sure to be cured if they touch it, which they are allowed to

do "_for a consideration_." On my inquiring how the monastery became

possessed of so inestimable a medicine, I was gravely informed that,

after the assumption of the Blessed Virgin, St. Thomas went up to heaven

to pay her a visit, and there she presented him with her girdle. My

informant appeared to have the most unshakeable conviction as to the

truth of this history, and expressed great surprise that I had never

heard it before.

The library, although containing nearly four thousand printed books, has

none of any high antiquity or on any subject but divinity. There are

also about a thousand manuscripts, of which three or four hundred are on

vellum; amongst these there are three copies of the works of St

Chrysostom: they also have his head in the church--that golden mouth out

of which proceeded the voice which shook the empire with the thunder of

its denunciations. The most curious manuscripts are six rolls of

parchment, each ten inches wide and about ten feet long, containing

prayers for festivals on the anniversaries of the foundation of certain

churches. There were at this time above three hundred monks resident in

the monastery; many of these held offices and places of dignity under

the agoumenos, whose establishment resembled the court of a petty

sovereign prince. Altogether this convent well illustrates what some of

the great monastic establishments in England must have been before the

Reformation. It covers at least four acres of ground, and contains so

many separate buildings within its massive walls that it resembles a

fortified town. Everything told of wealth and indolence. When I arrived

the lord abbot was asleep; he was too great a man to be aroused; he had

eaten a full meal in his own apartment, and he could not be disturbed.

His secretary, a thin pale monk, was deputed to show me the wonders of

the place, and as we proceeded through the different chapels and

enormous magazines of corn, wine, and oil, the officers of the different

departments bent down to kiss his hand, for he was high in the favour of

my lord the abbot, and was evidently a man not to be slighted by the

inferior authorities if they wished to get on and prosper. The cellarer

was a sly old fellow with a thin grey beard, and looked as if he could

tell a good story of an evening over a flagon of good wine. Except at

some of the palaces in Germany I have never seen such gigantic tuns as

those in the cellars at Vatopede. The oil is kept in marble vessels of

the size and shape of sarcophagi, and there is a curious picture in the

entrance room of the oil-store, which represents the miraculous increase

in their stock of oil during a year of scarcity, when, through the

intercession of a pious monk who then had charge of that department, the

marble basins, which were almost empty, overflowed, and a river of fine

fresh oil poured in torrents through the door. The frame of this picture

is set with jewels, and it appears to be very ancient. The refectory is

an immense room; it stands in front of the church and has twenty-four

marble tables and seats, and is in the same cruciform shape as that at

St. Laura. It has frequently accommodated five hundred guests, the

servants and tenants of the abbey, who come on stated days to pay their

rents and receive the benediction of the agoumenos. Sixty or seventy fat

mules are kept for the use of the community, and a very considerable

number of Albanian servants and muleteers are lodged in outbuildings

before the great gate. These, unlike their brethren of Epirus, are a

quiet, stupid race, and whatever may be their notions of another world,

they evidently think that in this there is no man living equal in

importance to the great agoumenos of Vatopede, and no earthly place to

compare with the great monastery over which he rules.

From Vatopede it requires two hours and a half to ride to the monastery

of

SPHIGMENOU,

which is a much smaller establishment. It is said to have been founded

by the Empress Pulcheria, sister of the Emperor Theodosius the younger,

and if so must be a very ancient building, for the empress died on the

18th of February in the year 453. Her brother Theodosius was known by

the title or cognomen of καλλιγραφος, from the beauty of his writing: he

was a protector of the Nestorian and Eutychian heretics, and ended his

life on the 20th of October, 460.

This monastery is situated in a narrow valley close to the sea, squeezed

in between three little hills, from which circumstance it derives its

name of σφιγμενος, "squeezed together." It is inhabited by thirty monks,

who are cleaner and keep their church in better order and neatness than

most of their brethren on Mount Athos. Among the relics of the saints,

which are the first things they show to the pilgrim from beyond the sea,

is a beautiful ancient cross of gold set with diamonds. Diamonds are of

very rare occurrence in ancient pieces of jewellery; it is indeed

doubtful whether they were known to the ancients, adamantine being an

epithet applied to the hardness of steel, and I have never seen a

diamond in any work of art of the Roman or classical era. Besides the

diamonds the cross has on the upper end and on the extremities of the

two arms three very fine and large emeralds, each fastened on with three

gold nails: it is a fine specimen of early jewellery, and of no small

intrinsic value.

The library is in a room over the porch of the church: it contains about

1500 volumes, half of which are manuscripts, mostly on paper, and all

theological. I met with four copies of the Gospels and two of the

Epistles, all the others being books of the church service and the usual

folios of the fathers. There was, however, a Russian or Bulgarian

manuscript of the four Gospels with an illumination at the commencement

of each Gospel. It is written in capital letters, and seemed to be of

considerable antiquity. I was disappointed at not finding manuscripts of

greater age in so very ancient a monastery as this is; but perhaps it

has undergone more squeezing than that inflicted upon it by the three

hills. I slept here in peace and comfort.

On the sea-shore not far from Sphigmenou are the ruins of the monastery

of St. Basil, opposite a small rocky island in the sea, which I left at

this point, and striking up the country arrived in an hour's time at the

monastery of

KILIANTARI,

or a thousand lions. This is a large building, of which the ground plan

resembles the shape of an open fan. It stands in a valley, and

contained, when I entered its hospitable gates, about fifty monks. They

preserve in the sacristy a superb chalice, of a kind of bloodstone set

in gold, about a foot high and eight inches wide, the gift of one of the

Byzantine emperors. This monastery was founded by Simeon, Prince of

Servia, I could not make out at what time. In the library they had no

great number of books, and what there were were all Russian or

Bulgarian: I saw none which seemed to be of great antiquity. On

inquiring, however, whether they had not some Greek manuscripts, the

Agoumenos said they had one, which he went and brought me out of the

sacristy; and this, to my admiration and surprise, was not only the

finest manuscript on Mount Athos, but the finest that I had met with in

any Greek monastery with the single exception of the golden manuscript

of the New Testament at Mount Sinai. It was a 4to. Evangelistarium,

written in golden letters on fine _white_ vellum. The characters were a

kind of semi-uncial, rather round in their forms, of large size, and

beautifully executed, but often joined together and having many

contractions and abbreviations, in these respects resembling the Mount

Sinai MS. This magnificent volume was given to the monastery by the

Emperor Andronicus Comnenus about the year 1184; it is consequently not

an early MS., but its imperial origin renders it interesting to the

admirers of literary treasures, while the very rare occurrence of a

_Greek_ MS. written in letters of gold would make it a most desirable

and important acquisition to any royal library; for besides the two

above-mentioned there are not, I believe, more than seven or eight MSS.

of this description in existence, and of these several are merely

fragments, and only one is on white vellum: this is in the library of

the Holy Synod at Moscow. Five of the others are on blue or purple

vellum, viz., Codex Cottonianus, in the British Museum, Titus C. 15, a

fragment of the Gospels; an octavo Evangelistarium at Vienna; a fragment

of the books of Genesis and St. Luke in silver letters at Vienna; the

Codex Turicensis of part of the Psalms; and six leaves of the Gospels of

St. Matthew in silver letters with the initials in gold in the Vatican.

There may possibly be others, but I have never heard of them. Latin MSS.

in golden letters are much less scarce, but Greek MSS., even those which

merely contain two or three pages written in gold letters, are of such

rarity that hardly a dozen are to be met with; of these there are three

in the library at Parham. I think the Codex Ebnerianus has one or two

pages written in gold, and the tables of a gospel at Jerusalem are in

gold on deep purple vellum. At this moment I do not remember any more,

although doubtless there must be a few of these partially ornamented

volumes scattered through the great libraries of Europe.

From Kiliantari, which is the last monastery on the N.E. side of the

promontory, we struck across the peninsula, and two hours' riding

brought us to

ZOGRAPHOU,

through plains of rich green grass dotted over with gigantic single

trees, the scenery being like that of an English park, only finer and

more luxuriant as well as more extensive. This monastery was founded in

the reign of Leo Sophos, by three nobles of Constantinople who became

monks; and the local tradition is that it was destroyed by the "_Pope of

Rome_." How that happened I know not, but it was rebuilt in the year

1502 by Stephanus, Waywode of Moldavia. It is a large fortified building

of very imposing appearance, situated on a steep hill surrounded with

trees and gardens overlooking a deep valley which opens on the gulf of

Monte Santo. The MSS. here are Bulgarian, and not of early date; they

had no Greek MSS. whatever.

From Zographou, following the valley, we arrived at a lower plain on the

sea coast, and there we discovered that we had lost our way; we

therefore retraced our steps, and turning up among the hills to our left

we came in three hours to

CASTAMONETA,

which, had we taken the right road, we might have reached in one. This

is a very poor monastery, but it is of great age and its architecture is

picturesque: it was originally founded by Constantine the Great. It has

no library nor anything particularly well worth mentioning, excepting

the original deed of the Emperor Manuel Paleologus, with the sign manual

of that potentate written in very large letters in red ink at the

bottom of the deed, by which he granted to the monastery the lands which

it still retains. The poor monks were much edified by the sight of the

patriarchal letter, and when I went away rang the bells of the church

tower to do me honour.

At the distance of one hour from hence stands the monastery of

DOCHEIROU.

It is the first to the west of those upon the south-west shore of the

peninsula. It is a monastery of great size, with ample room for a

hundred monks, although inhabited by only twenty. It was built in the

reign of Nicephorus Botoniates, and was last repaired in the year 1578

by Alexander, Waywode of Moldavia. I was very well lodged in this

convent, and the fleas were singularly few. The library contained two

thousand five hundred volumes, of which one hundred and fifty were

vellum MSS. I omitted to note the number of MSS. on paper, but amongst

them I found a part of Sophocles and a fine folio of Suidas's Lexicon.

Among the vellum MSS. there was a folio in the Bulgarian language, and

various works of the fathers. I found also three loose leaves of an

Evangelistarium in uncial letters of the ninth century, which had been

cut out of some ancient volume, for which I hunted in the dust in vain.

The monks gave me these three leaves on my asking for them, for even a

few pages of such a manuscript as this are not to be despised.

From Docheirou it is only a distance of half an hour to

XENOPHOU,

which stands upon the sea shore. Here they were building a church in the

centre of the great court, which, when it is finished, will be the

largest on Mount Athos. Three Greek bishops were living here in exile. I

did not learn what the holy prelates had done, but their misdeeds had

been found out by the Patriarch, and he had sent them here to rusticate.

This monastery is of a moderate size; its founder was St. Xenophou,

regarding whose history or the period at which he lived I am unable to

give any information, as nobody knew anything about him on the spot, and

I cannot find him in any catalogue of saints which I possess. The

monastery was repaired in the year 1545 by Danzulas Bornicus and

Badulus, who were brothers, and Banus (the Ban) Barbulus, all three

nobles of Hungary, and was afterwards beautified by Matthæus, Waywode of

Bessarabia.

The library consists of fifteen hundred printed books, nineteen MSS. on

paper, eleven on vellum, and three rolls on parchment, containing

liturgies for particular days. Of the MSS. on vellum there were three

which merit a description. One was a fine 4to. of part of the works of

St. Chrysostom, of great antiquity, but not in uncial letters. Another

was a 4to. of the four Gospels bound in faded red velvet with silver

clasps. This book they affirmed to be a royal present to the monastery;

it was of the eleventh or twelfth century, and was peculiar from the

text being accompanied by a voluminous commentary on the margin and

several pages of calendars, prefaces, &c., at the beginning. The

headings of the Gospels were written in large plain letters of gold. In

the libraries of forty Greek monasteries I have only met with one other

copy of the Gospels with a commentary. The third manuscript was an

immense quarto Evangelistarium sixteen inches square, bound in faded

green or blue velvet, and said to be in the autograph of the Emperor

Alexius Comnenus. The text throughout on each page was written in the

form of a cross. Two of the pages are in purple ink powdered with gold,

and these, there is every reason to suppose, are in the handwriting of

the imperial scribe himself; for the Byzantine sovereigns affected to

write only in purple, as their deeds and a magnificent MS. in another

monastic library, of which I have not given an account in these pages,

can testify: the titles of this superb volume are written in gold,

covering the whole page. Altogether, although not in uncial letters, it

was among the finest Greek MSS. that I had ever seen--perhaps, next to

the uncial MSS., the finest to be met with anywhere.

I asked the monks whether they were inclined to part with these three

books, and offered to purchase them and the parchment rolls. There was a

little consultation among them, and then they desired to be shown those

which I particularly coveted. Then there was another consultation, and

they asked me which I set the greatest value on. So I said the rolls, on

which the three rolls were unrolled, and looked at, and examined, and

peeped at by the three monks who put themselves forward in the business,

with more pains and curiosity than had probably been ever wasted upon

them before. At last they said it was impossible, the rolls were too

precious to be parted with, but if I liked to give a good price I should

have the rest; upon which I took up the St. Chrysostom, the least

valuable of the three, and while I examined it, saw from the corner of

my eye the three monks nudging each other and making signs. So I said,

"Well, now what will you take for your two books, this and the big one?"

They asked five thousand piastres; whereupon, with a look of indignant

scorn, I laid down the St. Chrysostom and got up to go away; but after a

good deal more talk we retired to the divan, or drawing-room as it may

be called, of the monastery, where I conversed with the three exiled

bishops. In course of time I was called out into another room to have a

cup of coffee. There were my friends the three monks, the managing

committee, and under the divan, imperfectly concealed, were the corners

of the three splendid MSS. I knew that now all depended on my own tact

whether my still famished saddle-bags were to have a meal or not that

day, the danger lying between offering too much or too little. If you

offer too much, a Greek, a Jew, or an Armenian immediately thinks that

the desired object must be invaluable, that it must have some magical

properties, like the lamp of Aladdin, which will bring wealth upon its

possessor if he can but find out its secret; and he will either ask you

a sum absurdly large, or will refuse to sell it at any price, but will

lock it up and become nervous about it, and examine it over and over

again privately to see what can be the cause of a Frank's offering so

much for a thing apparently so utterly useless. On the other hand, too

little must not be offered, for it would be an indignity to suppose that

persons of consideration would condescend to sell things of trifling

value--it wounds their aristocratic feelings, they are above such

meannesses. By St. Xenophou, how we did talk! for five mortal hours it

went on, I pretending to go away several times, but being always called

back by one or other of the learned committee. I drank coffee and

sherbet and they drank arraghi; but in the end I got the great book of

Alexius Comnenus for the value of twenty-two pounds, and the curious

Gospels, which I had treated with the most cool disdain all along, was

finally thrown into the bargain; and out I walked with a big book under

each arm, bearing with perfect resignation the smiles and scoffs of the

three brethren, who could scarcely contain their laughter at the way

they had done the silly traveller. Then did the saddlebags begin to

assume a more comely and satisfactory form.

After a stirrup cup of hot coffee, perfumed with the incense of the

church, the monks bid me a joyous adieu; I responded as joyously: in

short every one was charmed, except the mule, who evidently was more

surprised than pleased at the increased weight which he had to carry.

CHAPTER XXVII.

The Monastery of Russico--Its Courteous Abbot--The Monastery of

Xeropotamo--Its History--High Character of its Abbot--Excursion to

the Monasteries of St. Nicholas and St. Dionisius--Interesting

Relics--Magnificent Shrine--The Library--The Monastery of St.

Paul--Respect shown by the Monks--Beautiful MS.--Extraordinary

Liberality and Kindness of the Abbot and Monks--A valuable

Acquisition at little Cost--The Monastery of Simopetra--Purchase of

MS.--The Monk of Xeropotamo--His Ideas about Women--Excursion to

Cariez--The Monastery of Coutloumoussi--The Russian

Book-Stealer--History of the Monastery--Its reputed Destruction by

the Pope of Rome--The Aga of Cariez--Interview in a Kiosk--The She

Cat of Mount Athos.

From Xenophou I went on to

RUSSICO,

where also they were repairing the injuries which different parts of the

edifice had sustained during the late Greek war. The agoumenos of this

monastery was a remarkably gentlemanlike and accomplished man; he spoke

several languages and ruled over a hundred and thirty monks. They had,

however, amongst them all only nine MSS., and those were of no interest.

The agoumenos told me that the monastery formerly possessed a MS. of

Homer on vellum, which he sold to two English gentlemen some years ago,

who were immediately afterwards plundered by pirates, and the MS. thrown

into the sea. As I never heard of any Englishman having been at Mount

Athos since the days of Dr. Clarke and Dr. Carlysle, I could not make

out who these gentlemen were: probably they were Frenchmen, or Europeans

of some other nation. However, the idea of the pirates gave me a horrid

qualm; and I thought how dreadful it would be if they threw my Alexius

Comnenus into the sea; it made me feel quite uncomfortable. This

monastery was built by the Empress Catherine the First, of Russia--or,

to speak more correctly, repaired by her--for it was originally founded

by Saint Lazarus Knezes, of Servia, and the church dedicated to St.

Panteleemon the Martyr. A ride of an hour brought me to

XEROPOTAMO,

where I was received with so much hospitality and kindness that I

determined to make it my headquarters while I visited the other

monasteries, which from this place could readily be approached by sea. I

was fortunate in procuring a boat with two men--a sort of naval lay

brethren,--who agreed to row me about wherever I liked, and bring me

back to Xeropotamo for fifty piastres, and this they would do whenever I

chose, as they were not very particular about time, an article upon

which they evidently set small value.

This monastery was founded by the Emperor Romanus about the year 920; it

was rebuilt by Andronicus the Second in 1320; in the sixteenth century

it was thrown down by an earthquake, and was again repaired by the

Sultan Selim the First, or at least during his reign--that is, about

1515. It was in a ruinous condition in the year 1701; it was again

repaired, and in the Greek revolution it was again dismantled; at the

time of my visit they were actively employed in restoring it. Alexander,

Waywode of Wallachia, was a great benefactor to this and other

monasteries of Athos, which owe much to the piety of the different

Christian princes of the Danubian states of the Turkish empire.

The library over the porch of the church, which is large and handsome,

contains one thousand printed books and between thirty and forty

manuscripts in bad condition. I saw none of consequence: that is to say,

nothing except the usual volumes of divinity of the twelfth century. In

the church is preserved a large piece of the holy cross richly set with

valuable jewels. The agoumenos of Xeropotamo, a man with a dark-grey

beard, about sixty years of age, struck me as a fine specimen of what an

abbot of an ascetic monastery ought to be; simple and kind, yet clever

enough, and learned in the divinity of his church, he set an example to

the monks under his rule of devotion and rectitude of conduct; he was

not slothful, or haughty, or grasping, and seemed to have a truly

religious and cheerful mind. He was looked up to and beloved by the

whole community; and with his dignified manner and appearance, his long

grey hair, and dark flowing robes, he gave me the idea of what the

saints and holy men of old must have been in the early days of

Christianity, when they walked entirely in the faith, and--if required

to do so--willingly gave themselves up as martyrs to the cause: when in

all their actions they were influenced solely by the dictates of their

religion. Would that such times would come again! But where every one

sets up a new religion for himself, and when people laugh at and

ridicule those things which their ignorance prevents them from

appreciating, how can we hope for this?

Early in the morning I started from my comfortable couch, and ran

scrambling down the hill, over the rolling-stones in the dry bed of the

torrent on which the monastery of the "dry river" (ξηροποταμου--courou

chesmé in Turkish) is built. We got into the boat: our carpets, some

oranges, and various little stores for a day's journey, which the good

monks had supplied us with, being brought down by sundry good-natured

lubberly κατακυμενοι--religions youths--who were delighted at having

something to do, and were as pleased as children at having a good heavy

praying-carpet to carry, or a basket of oranges, or a cushion from the

monastery. They all waited on the shore to see us off, and away we went

along the coast. As the sun got up it became oppressively hot, and the

first monastery we came abreast of was that of Simopetra, which is

perched on the top of a perpendicular rock, five or six hundred feet

high at least, if not twice as much. This rather daunted me: and as we

thought perhaps to-morrow would not be so hot, I put off climbing up the

precipice for the present, and rowed gently on in the calm sea till we

came before the monastery of

ST. NICHOLAS,

the smallest of all the convents of Mount Athos. It was a most

picturesque building, stuck up on a rock, and is famous for its figs, in

the eating of which, in the absence of more interesting matter, we all

employed ourselves a considerable time; they were marvellously cool and

delicious, and there were such quantities of them. We and the boatmen

sat in the shade, and enjoyed ourselves till we were ashamed of staying

any longer. I forgot to ask who the founder was. There was no library;

in fact, there was nothing but figs; so we got into the boat again, and

sweltered on a quarter of an hour more, and then we came to

ST. DIONISIUS.

This monastery is also built upon a rock immediately above the sea; it

is of moderate size, but is in good repair. There was a look of comfort

about it that savoured of easy circumstances, but the number of monks

in it was small. Altogether this monastery, as regards the antiquities

it contained, was the most interesting of all. The church, a good-sized

building, is in a very perfect state of preservation. Hanging on the

wall near the door of entrance was a portrait painted on wood, about

three feet square, in a frame of silver-gilt, set with jewels; it

represented Alexius Comnenus, Emperor of Trebizonde, the founder of the

monastery. He it was, I believe, who built that most beautiful church a

little way out of the town of Trebizonde, which is called St. Sofia,

probably from its resemblance to the cathedral of Constantinople. He is

drawn in his imperial robes, and the portrait is one of the most curious

I ever saw. He founded this church in the year 1380; and Neagulus and

Peter, Waywodes of Bessarabia, restored and repaired the monastery.

There was another curious portrait of a lady; I did not learn who it

was: very probably the Empress Pulcheria, or else Roxandra Domna

(Domina?), wife of Alexander, Waywode of Wallachia; for both these

ladies were benefactors to the convent.

I was taken, as a pilgrim, to the church, and we stood in the middle of

the floor before the ικονοsτασις, whilst the monks brought out an

old-fashioned low wooden table, upon which they placed the relics of the

saints which they presumed we came to adore. Of these some were very

interesting specimens of intricate workmanship and superb and precious

materials. One was a patera, of a kind of china or paste, made, as I

imagine, of a multitude of turquoises ground down together, for it was

too large to be of one single turquoise; there is one of the same kind,

but of far inferior workmanship, in the treasury of St. Marc. This

marvellous dish is carved in very high relief with minute figures or

little statues of the saints, with inscriptions in very early Greek. It

is set in pure gold, richly worked, and was a gift from the Empress or

imperial Princess Pulcheria. Then there was an invaluable shrine for the

head of St. John the Baptist, whose bones and another of his heads are

in the cathedral at Genoa. St. John Lateran also boasts a head of St

John, but that may have belonged to St. John the Evangelist. This shrine

was the gift of Neagulus, Waywode or Hospodar of Wallachia: it is about

two feet long and two feet high, and is in the shape of a Byzantine

church; the material is silver-gilt, but the admirable and singular

style of the workmanship gives it a value far surpassing its intrinsic

worth. The roof is covered with five domes of gold; on each side it has

sixteen recesses, in which are portraits of the saints in niello, and at

each end there are eight others. All the windows are enriched in

open-work tracery, of a strange sort of Gothic pattern, unlike anything

in Europe. It is altogether a wonderful and precious monument of

ancient art, the production of an almost unknown country, rich, quaint,

and original in its design and execution, and is indeed one of the most

curious objects on Mount Athos; although the patera of the Princess

Pulcheria might probably be considered of greater value. There were many

other shrines and reliquaries, but none of any particular interest.

I next proceeded to the library, which contained not much less than a

thousand manuscripts, half on paper and half on vellum. Of those on

vellum the most valuable were a quarto Evangelistarium, in uncial

letters, and in beautiful preservation; another Evangelistarium, of

which three fly-leaves were in early uncial Greek; a small quarto of the

Dialogues of St. Gregory, διαλογοι Γρεγοριου του θεολογου, not in uncial

letters, with twelve fine miniatures; a small quarto New Testament,

containing the Apocalypse; and some magnificent folios of the Fathers of

the eleventh century; but not one classic author. Among the manuscripts

on paper were a folio of the Iliad of Homer, badly written, two copies

of the works of Dionysius the Areopagite, and a multitude of books for

the church-service. Alas! they would part with nothing. The library was

altogether a magnificent collection, and for the most part well

preserved: they had no great number of printed books. I should imagine

that this monastery must, from some fortunate accident, have suffered

less from spoliation during the late revolution than any of the others;

for considering that it is not a very large establishment, the number of

valuable things it contained was quite astonishing.

A quarter of an hour's row brought us to the scaricatojo of

ST. PAUL,

from whence we had to walk a mile and a half up a steep hill to the

monastery, where building repairs were going on with great activity. I

was received with cheerful hospitality, and soon made the acquaintance

of four monks, who amongst them spoke English, French, Italian, and

German. Having been installed in a separate bed-room, cleanly furnished

in the Turkish style, where I subsequently enjoyed a delightful night's

rest, undisturbed by a single flea, I was conducted into a large airy

hall. Here, after a very comfortable dinner, the smaller fry of monks

assembled to hear the illustrious stranger hold forth in turn to the

four wise fathers who spoke unknown tongues. The simple, kind-hearted

brethren looked with awe and wonder on the quadruple powers of those

lips that uttered such strange sounds: just as the Peruvians made their

reverence to the Spanish horses, whose speech they understood not, and

whose manners were beyond their comprehension. It was fortunate for my

reputation that the reverend German scholar was of a close and taciturn

disposition, since my knowledge of his scraughing language did not

extend very far, and when we got to scientific discussion I was very

nearly at a stand still; but I am inclined to think that he upheld my

dignity to save his own; and as my servant, who never minced matters,

had doubtless told them that I could speak ninety other languages, and

was besides nephew to most of the crowned heads of Europe, if a phœnix

had come in he would have had a lower place assigned him. I found also

that in this--as indeed in all the other monasteries--one who had

performed the pilgrimage to the Holy Land was looked upon with a certain

degree of respect. In short, I found that at last I was amongst a set of

people who had the sense to appreciate my merits; so I held up my head,

and assumed all the dignified humility of real greatness.

This monastery was founded for Bulgarian and Servian monks by

Constantine Biancobano, Hospodar of Wallachia. There was little that was

interesting in it, either in architecture or any other walk of art; the

library was contained in a small light closet, the books were clean, and

ranged in order on the new deal shelves. There was only one Greek

manuscript, a duodecimo copy of the Gospels of the twelfth or thirteenth

century. The Servian and Bulgarian manuscripts amounted to about two

hundred and fifty: of these three were remarkable; the first was a

manuscript of the four Gospels, a thick quarto, and the uncial letters

in which it was written were three fourths of an inch in height: it was

imperfect at the end. The second was also a copy of the Gospels, a

folio, in uncial letters, with fine illuminations at the beginning of

each Gospel, and a large and curious portrait of a patriarch at the end;

all the stops in this volume were dots of gold; several words also were

written in gold. It was a noble manuscript. The third was likewise a

folio of the Gospels in the ancient Bulgarian language, and, like the

other two, in uncial letters. This manuscript was quite full of

illuminations from beginning to end. I had seen no book like it anywhere

in the Levant. I almost tumbled off the steps on which I was perched on

the discovery of so extraordinary a volume. I saw that these books were

taken care of, so I did not much like to ask whether they would part

with them; more especially as the community was evidently a prosperous

one, and had no need to sell any of their goods.

After walking about the monastery with the monks, as I was going away

the agoumenos said he wished he had anything which he could present to

me as a memorial of my visit to the convent of St Paul. On this a brisk

fire of reciprocal compliments ensued, and I observed that I should like

to take a book. "Oh! by all means!" he said; "we make no use of the old

books, and should be glad if you would accept one." We returned to the

library; and the agoumenos took out one at a hazard, as you might take a

brick or a stone out of a pile, and presented it to me. Quoth I, "If

you don't care what book it is that you are so good as to give me, let

me take one which pleases me;" and, so saying, I took down the

illuminated folio of the Bulgarian Gospels, and I could hardly believe I

was awake when the agoumenos gave it into my hands. Perhaps the greatest

piece of impertinence of which I was ever guilty, was when I asked to

buy another; but that they insisted upon giving me also; so I took the

other two copies of the Gospels mentioned above, all three as free-will

gifts. I felt almost ashamed at accepting these two last books; but who

could resist it, knowing that they were utterly valueless to the monks,

and were not saleable in the bazaar at Constantinople, Smyrna, Salonica,

or any neighbouring city? However, before I went away, as a salve to my

conscience I gave some money to the church. The authorities accompanied

me beyond the outer gate, and by the kindness of the agoumenos mules

were provided to take us down to the sea-shore, where we found our

clerical mariners ready for us. One of the monks, who wished for a

passage to Xeropotamo, accompanied us; and, turning our boat's head

again to the north-west, we arrived before long a second time below the

lofty rock of

SIMOPETRA.

This monastery was founded by St. Simon the Anchorite, of whose history

I was unable to learn anything. The buildings are connected with the

side of the mountain by a fine aqueduct, which has a grand effect,

perched as it is at so great a height above the sea, and consisting of

two rows of eleven arches, one above the other, with one lofty arch

across a chasm immediately under the walls of the monastery, which, as

seen from this side, resembles an immense square tower, with several

rows of wooden balconies or galleries projecting from the walls at a

prodigious height from the ground. It was no slight effort of gymnastics

to get up to the door, where I was received with many grotesque bows by

an ancient porter. I was ushered into the presence of the agoumenos, who

sat in a hall, surrounded by a reverend conclave of his bearded and

long-haired monks; and after partaking of sweetmeats and water, and a

cup of coffee, according to custom, but no pipes--for the divines of

Mount Athos do not indulge in smoking--they took me to the church and to

the library.

In the latter I found a hundred and fifty manuscripts, of which fifty

were on vellum, all works of divinity, and not above ten or twelve of

them fine books. I asked permission to purchase three, to which they

acceded. These were the 'Life and Works of St. John Climax, Agoumenos of

Mount Sinai,' a quarto of the eleventh century; the 'Acts and Epistles,'

a noble folio written in large letters, in double columns: a very fine

manuscript, the letters upright and not much joined together: at the end

is an inscription in red letters, which may contain the date, but it is

so faint that I could not make it out. The third was a quarto of the

four Gospels, with a picture of an evangelist at the beginning of each

Gospel. Whilst I was arranging the payment for these manuscripts, a

monk, opening the copy of the Gospels, found at the end a horrible

anathema and malediction written by the donor, a prince or king, he

said, against any one who should sell or part with this book. This was

very unlucky, and produced a great effect upon the monks; but as no

anathema was found in either of the two other volumes, I was allowed to

take them, and so went on my way rejoicing. They rang the bells at my

departure, and I heard them at intervals jingling in the air above me as

I scrambled down the rocky mountain. Except Dionisiou, this was the only

monastery where the agoumenos kissed the letter of the patriarch and

laid it upon his forehead: the sign of reverence and obedience which is,

or ought to be, observed with the firmans of the Sultan and other

oriental potentates.

[Illustration: From a Sketch by R. Curzon.

VIEW OF THE MONASTERY AND AQUEDUCT OF SIMOPETRA, ON MOUNT ATHOS, TAKEN

FROM THE SEA SHORE.]

The same evening I got back to my comfortable room at Xeropotamo, and

did ample justice to a good meagre dinner after the heat and fatigues of

the day. A monk had arrived from one of the outlying farms who could

speak a little Italian; he was deputed to do the honours of the

house, and accordingly dined with me. He was a magnificent-looking man

of thirty or thirty-five years of age, with large eyes and long black

hair and beard. As we sat together in the evening in the ancient room,

by the light of one dim brazen lamp, with deep shades thrown across his

face and figure, I thought he would have made an admirable study for

Titian or Sebastian del Piombo. In the course of conversation I found

that he had learnt Italian from another monk, having never been out of

the peninsula of Mount Athos. His parents and most of the other

inhabitants of the village where he was born, somewhere in Roumelia--but

its name or exact position he did not know--had been massacred during

some revolt or disturbance. So he had been told, but he remembered

nothing about it; he had been educated in a school in this or one of the

other monasteries, and his whole life had been passed upon the Holy

Mountain; and this, he said, was the case with very many other monks. He

did not remember his mother, and did not seem quite sure that he ever

had one; he had never seen a woman, nor had he any idea what sort of

things women were, or what they looked like. He asked me whether they

resembled the pictures of the Panagia, the Holy Virgin, which hang in

every church. Now, those who are conversant with the peculiar

conventional representations of the Blessed Virgin in the pictures of

the Greek church, which are all exactly alike, stiff, hard, and dry,

without any appearance of life or emotion, will agree with me that they

do not afford a very favourable idea of the grace or beauty of the fair

sex; and that there was a difference of appearance between black women,

Circassians, and those of other nations, which was, however, difficult

to describe to one who had never seen a lady of any race. He listened

with great interest while I told him that all women were not exactly

like the pictures he had seen, but I did not think it charitable to

carry on the conversation farther, although the poor monk seemed to have

a strong inclination to know more of that interesting race of beings

from whose society he had been so entirely debarred. I often thought

afterwards of the singular lot of this manly and noble-looking monk:

whether he is still a recluse, either in the monastery or in his

mountain-farm, with its little moss-grown chapel as ancient as the days

of Constantine; or whether he has gone out into the world and mingled in

its pleasures and its cares.

I arranged with the captain of a small vessel which was lying off

Xeropotamo taking in a cargo of wood, that he should give me a passage

in two or three days, when he said he should be ready to sail; and in

the mean time I purposed to explore the metropolis of Mount Athos, the

town of Cariez; and then to go to Caracalla, and remain there till the

vessel was ready.

[Illustration: CIRCASSIAN LADY.]

Accordingly, the next morning I set out, the Agoumenos supplying me with

mules. The guide did not know how far it was to Cariez, which is

situated almost in the centre of the peninsula. I found it was only

distant one hour and a half; but as I had not made arrangements to go

on, I was obliged to remain there all day. Close to the town is the

great monastery of

COUTLOUMOUSSI,

the most regular building on Mount Athos. It contains a large square

court with a cloister of stone arches all round it, out of which the

cells and chambers open, as they do in a Roman Catholic convent. The

church stands in the centre of this quadrangle, and glories in a famous

picture of the Last Judgment on the wall of the narthex, or porch,

before the door of entrance. The monastery was at this time nearly

uninhabited; but, after some trouble, I found one monk, who made great

difficulties as to showing me the library, for he said a Russian had

been there some time ago, and had borrowed a book which he never

returned. However, at last I gained admission by means of that ingenious

silver key which opens so many locks.

In a good-sized square room, filled with shelves all round, I found a

fine, although neglected, collection of books; a great many of them

thrown on the floor in heaps, and covered all over with dust, which the

Russian did not appear to have much disturbed when he borrowed the book

which had occasioned me so much trouble. There were about six or seven

hundred volumes of printed books, two hundred MSS. on paper, and a

hundred and fifty on vellum. I was not permitted to examine this library

at all to my satisfaction. The solitary monk thought I was a Russian,

and would not let me alone, or give me the time I wanted for my

researches. I found a multitude of folios and quartos of the works of

St. Chrysostom, who seems to have been the principal instructor of the

monks of Mount Athos, that is, in the days when they were in the habit

of reading--a tedious custom, which they have long since given up by

general consent. I met also with an Evangelistarium, a quarto in uncial

letters, but not in very fine condition. Two or three other old monks

had by this time crept out of their holes, but they would not part with

any of their books: that unhappy Russian had filled the minds of the

whole brotherhood with suspicion. So we went to the church, which was

curious and quaint, as they all are; and as we went through all the

requisite formalities before various grim pictures, and showed due

respect for the sacred character of a Christian church, they began at

last to believe that I was not a Russian; but if they had seen the

contents of the saddle-bags which were sticking out bravely on each side

of the patient mule at the gate, they would perhaps have considered me

as something far worse.

Coutloumoussi was founded by the Emperor Alexius Comnenus, and, having

been destroyed by "_the Pope of Rome_," was restored by the piety of

various hospodars and waywodes of Bessarabia. It is difficult to

understand what these worthy monks can mean when they affirm that

several of their monasteries have been burned and plundered by the Pope.

Perhaps in the days of the Crusades some of the rapacious and

undisciplined hordes who accompanied the armies of the Cross--not to

rescue the holy sepulchre from the power of the Saracens, but for the

sake of plunder and robbery--may have been attracted by the fame of the

riches of these peaceful convents, and have made the differences in

their religion a pretext for sacrilege and rapacity. Thus bands of

pirates and brigands in the middle ages may have cloaked their acts of

violence under the specious excuse of devotion to the Church of Rome;

and so the Pope has acquired a bad name, and is looked upon with terror

and animosity by the inhabitants of the monasteries of Mount Athos.

Having seen what I could, I went on to the town of Cariez, if it can

properly be called such; for it is difficult to explain what it is. One

may perhaps say that what Washington is to the United States, Cariez is

to Mount Athos. A few artificers do live there who carve crosses and

ornaments in cypress-wood. The principal feature of the place is the

great church of Protaton, which is surrounded by smaller buildings and

chapels. These I saw at a distance, but did not visit, because I could

get no mules, and it was too hot to walk so far. A Turkish aga lives

here: he is sent by the Porte to collect the revenue from the monks, and

also to protect them from other Turkish visitors. He is paid and

provided with food by a kind of rate which is levied on the twenty-one

monasteries of [Greek: agion oros αγιον ορος], and is in fact a sort of

sheep-dog to the flock of helpless monks who pasture among the trees and

rocks of the peninsula. On certain days the Agoumenoi of the monasteries

and the high officers of their communities meet at the church of

Protaton for the transaction of business and the discussion of affairs.

I am sorry I did not see this ancient house of parliament. The rooms in

which these synods or convocations are held adjoin the church. Situated

at short distances around these principal edifices are numerous small

ecclesiastical villas, such as were called cells in England before the

Reformation: these are the habitations of the venerable senators when

they come up to parliament. Some of them are beautifully situated; for

Cariez stands in a fair, open vale, half-way up the side of the

mountain, and commands a beautiful view to the north of the sea, with

the magnificent island of Samotraki looming superbly in the distance.

All around are large orchards and plantations of peach-trees and of

various other sorts of fruit-bearing trees in great abundance, and the

round hills are clothed with greensward. It is a happy, peaceful-looking

place, and in its trim and sunny arbours reminds one of Virgil and

Theocritus.

I went to the house of the aga to seek for a habitation, but the aga was

asleep; and who was there so bold as to wake a sleeping aga? Luckily he

awoke of his own accord; and he was soon informed by my interpreter that

an illustrious personage awaited his leisure. He did not care for a

monk, and not much for an agoumenos; but he felt small in the presence

of a mighty Turkish aga. Nevertheless, he ventured a few hints as usual

about the kings and queens who were my first cousins, but in a much more

subdued tone than usual; and I was received with that courteous civility

and good breeding which is so frequently met with among Turks of every

degree. The aga apologised for having no good room to offer me; but he

sent out his men to look for a lodging; and in the mean time we went to

a kiosk, that is, a place like a large birdcage, with enough roof to

make a shade, and no walls to impede the free passage of the air. It was

built of wood, upon a scaffold eight or ten feet from the ground, in the

corner of a garden, and commanded a fine view of the sea. In one corner

of this cage I sat all day long, for there was nowhere else to go to;

and the aga sat opposite to me in another corner, smoking his pipe, in

which solacing occupation to his great surprise I did not partake. We

had cups of coffee and sherbet every now and then, and about every

half-hour the aga uttered a few words of compliment or welcome,

informing me occasionally that there were many dervishes in the place,

"very many dervishes," for so he denominated the monks. Dinner came

towards evening. There was meat, dolmas, demir tatlessi, olives, salad,

roast meat, and pilau, that filled up some time; and shortly afterwards

I retired to the house of the monastery of Russico, a little distance

from my kiosk; and there I slept on a carpet on the boards; and at

sunrise was ready to continue my journey, as were also the mules. The

aga gave me some breakfast, at which repast a cat made its appearance,

with whom the day before I had made acquaintance; but now it came, not

alone, but accompanied by two kittens. "Ah!" said I to the aga, "how is

this? Why, as I live, this is a _she_ cat! a cat feminine! What business

has it on Mount Athos? and with kittens too! a wicked cat!"

"Hush!" said the Aga, with a solemn grin; "do not say anything about it.

Yes, it must be a she-cat: I allow, certainly, that it must be a

she-cat. I brought it with me from Stamboul. But do not speak of it, or

they will take it away; and it reminds me of my home, where my wife and

children are living far away from me."

[Illustration: TURKISH LADY, IN THE YASHMAK, OR VEIL.]

I promised to make no scandal about the cat, and took my leave; and

as I rode off I saw him looking at me out of his cage with the cat

sitting by his side. I was sorry I could not take aga and cat and all

with me to Stamboul, the poor gentleman looked so solitary and

melancholy.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Caracalla--The Agoumenos--Curious Cross--The Nuts of

Caracalla--Singular Mode of preparing a Dinner Table--Departure

from Mount Athos--Packing of the MSS.--Difficulties of the

Way--Voyage to the Dardanelles--Apprehended Attack from

Pirates--Return to Constantinople.

It took me three hours to reach Caracalla, where the agoumenos and

Father Joasaph received me with all the hospitable kindness of old

friends, and at once installed me in my old room, which looked into the

court, and was very cool and quiet. Here I reposed in peace during the

hotter hours of the day; and here I received the news that the captain

of the vessel which I had hired had left me in the lurch and gone out to

sea, having, I suppose, made some better bargain. This caused me some

tribulation; but there was nothing to be done but to get another vessel;

so I sent back to Xeropotamo, which appeared to be the most frequented

part of the coast, to see whether there was any craft there which could

be hired.

I employed the next day in wandering about with the agoumenos and Father

Joasaph in all the holes and corners of the monastery; the agoumenos

telling me interminable legends of the saints, and asking Father Joasaph

if they were not true. I looked over the library, where I found an

uncial Evangelistarium; a manuscript of Demosthenes on paper, but of

some antiquity; a manuscript of Justin ([Greek: Ioustinou Ιουστινου]) in

Greek; and several other manuscripts,--all of which the agoumenos agreed

to let me have.

One of the monks had a curiously carved cross set in silver, which he

wished to sell; but I told the agoumenos that it was not sufficiently

ancient: I added, however, that if I could meet with any ancient cross

or shrine or reliquary, I should be delighted to purchase such a thing,

and that I would give a good price for it. In the afternoon it struck

him suddenly that as he did not care for antiquities, perhaps we might

come to an arrangement; and the end of the affair was that he gave me

one of the ancient crosses which I had seen when I was there before, and

put the one the monk had to sell in its place; certain pieces of gold

which I produced rendering this transaction satisfactory to all parties.

This most curious and beautiful piece of jewellery has been since

engraved, and forms the subject of the third plate in Shaw's 'Dresses

and Decorations of the Middle Ages,' London, 1843. It had been presented

to the monastery by the Emperor John, whom, from what I was told by the

agoumenos, I take to have been John Zimisces. It is one of the most

ancient as well as one of the finest relics of its kind now existing in

England.

On the evening of the second day my man returned from Xeropotamo with

the information that he had found a small Greek brig, and had engaged to

give the patron or captain eleven hundred piastres for our passage

thence to the Dardanelles the next day, if I could manage to be ready in

so short a time. As fortunately I had purchased all the manuscripts

which I wished to possess, there was nothing to detain me on Mount

Athos; for I had now visited every monastery excepting that of St. Anne,

which indeed is not a monastery like the rest, but a mere collection of

hermitages or cells at the extreme point of the peninsula, immediately

under the great peak of the mountain. I was told that there was nothing

there worth seeing; but still I am sorry that I did not make a

pilgrimage to so original a community, who it appears live on roots and

herbs, and are the most strict of all the ascetics in this strange

monastic region.

All of a sudden, as we were walking quietly together, the agoumenos

asked me if I knew what was the price of nuts at Constantinople.

"Nuts?" said I.

"Yes, nuts," said he; "hazel-nuts: nuts are excellent things. Have they

a good supply of nuts at Constantinople?"

"Well," said I, "I don't know; but I dare say they have. But why, my

Lord, do you ask? Why do you wish to know the price of hazel-nuts at

Constantinople?"

"Oh!" said the agoumenos, "they do not eat half nuts enough at Stamboul.

Nuts are excellent things. They should be eaten more than they are.

People say that nuts are unwholesome; but it is a great mistake." And so

saying, he introduced me into a set of upper rooms that I had not

previously entered, the entire floors of which were covered two feet

deep with nuts. I never saw one-hundredth part so many before. The good

agoumenos, it seems, had been speculating in hazel-nuts; and a vessel

was to come to the little tower of the scaricatojo down below to be

freighted with them: they were to produce a prodigious profit, and

defray the expense of finishing the new buildings of Caracalla.

"Take some," said he; "don't be afraid; there are plenty. Take some, and

taste them, and then you can tell your friends at Constantinople what a

peculiar flavour you found in the famous nuts of Athos; and in all Athos

every one knows that there are no nuts like those of Caracalla!"

They were capital nuts; but as it was before dinner, and I was

ravenously hungry, and my lord the agoumenos had not brought a bottle of

sherry in his pocket, I did not particularly relish them. But there had

been great talking during the morning between the agoumenos and Pater

Joasaph about a famous large fish which was to be cooked for dinner;

and, as the important hour was approaching, we adjourned to my sitting

room. Father Joasaph was already there, having washed his hands and

seated himself on the divan, in order to regulate the proceedings of the

lay brother who acted as butler. The preparations for the banquet were

made. The lay brother first brought in the table-cloth, which he spread

upon the ground in one corner of the room; then he turned the table

upside down upon the table-cloth, with its legs in the air: next he

brought two immense flagons, one of wine, the other of water; these were

made of copper tinned, and were each a foot and a half high; he set them

down on the carpet a little way from the table-cloth; and round the

table he placed three cushions for the agoumenos, Pater Joasaph, and me;

and then he went away to bring the dinner. He soon reappeared, bringing

in, with the assistance of another stout catechumen, the whole of the

dinner on a large circular tray of well-polished brass called a sinni.

This was so formed as to fix on the sticking-up legs of the subverted

table, and, with the aid of Pater Joasaph, it was soon all tight and

straight. In a great centre-dish there appeared the big fish in a sea of

sauce surrounded by a mountainous shore of rice. Round this luxurious

centre stood a circle of smaller dishes, olives, caviare, salad (no

eggs, because there were no hens), papas yaknesi, and several sweet

things. Two cats followed the dinner into the room, and sat down

demurely side by side. The fish looked excellent, and had a most

savoury smell. I had washed my hands, and was preparing to sit down,

when the Father Abbot, who was not thinking of the dinner, took this

inopportune moment to begin one of his interminable stories.

"We have before spoken," he said, "of the many kings, princes, and

patriarchs who have given up the world and ended their days here in

peace. One of the most important epochs in the history of Mount Athos

occurred about the year 1336, when a Calabrian monk, a man of great

learning though of mean appearance, whose name was Barlaam, arrived on a

pilgrimage to venerate the sacred relics of our famous sanctuaries. He

found here many holy men, who, having retired entirely from the world,

by communing with themselves in the privacy of their own cells, had

arrived at that state of calm beatitude and heavenly contemplation, that

the eternal light of Mount Tabor was revealed to them."

"Mount Tabor?" said I.

"Yes," said the agoumenos, "the light which had been seen during the

time of the Transfiguration by the apostles, and which had always

existed there, was seen by those who, after years of solitude and

penance and maceration of the flesh, had arrived at that state of

abstraction from all earthly things that in their bodies they saw the

divine light. They in those good times would sit alone in their chambers

with their eyes cast down upon the region of their navel; this was

painful at first, both from the fixedness of the attitude required, with

the head bent down upon the breast, and from the workings of the mind,

which seemed to wander in the regions of darkness and space. At last,

when they had persevered in fasting day and night with no change of

thought or attitude for many hours, they began to feel a wonderful

satisfaction; a ray of joy ineffable would seem to illuminate the brain;

and no sooner had the soul discovered the place of the heart than it was

involved in a mystic and ethereal light."[18]

"Ah," said I, "really!"

"Now this Barlaam, being a carnal and worldly-minded man, took upon

himself to doubt the efficacy of this bodily and mental discipline; it

is said that he even ventured to ridicule the venerable fathers who gave

themselves up so entirely to the contemplation of the light of Mount

Tabor. Not only did he question the merits of these ascetic acts, but,

being learned in books, and being endowed with great powers of eloquence

and persuasion, he infused doubts into the minds of others of the monks

and anchorites of Mount Athos. Arguments were used on both sides;

conversations arose upon these subjects; arguments grew into

disputations, conversations into controversies, till at last, from the

most peaceful and regular of communities, the peninsula of the holy

mountain became from one end to the other a theatre of discord, doubt,

and difference; the flames of contention were lit up; every thing was

unsettled; men knew not what to think; till at last, with general

consent, the unhappy intruder was dismissed from all the monasteries;

and, flying from the storm of angry words which he had raised on all

sides around him, he departed from Mount Athos and retired to the city

of Constantinople. There his specious manners, his knowledge of the

language of the Latins, and the dissensions he had created in the

church, brought him into notice at court; and now not only were the

monks of Mount Athos and Olympus divided against each other, but the

city was split into parties of theological disputants; clamour and

acrimony raged on every side. The Emperor Andronicus, willing to remove

the cause of so much contention, and being at the same time surrounded

with difficulties on all sides (for the unbelieving Turks, commanded by

the fierce Orchan, had with their unnumbered tribes overrun Bithynia and

many of the provinces of the Christian emperor), he graciously

condescended to give his imperial mandate that the monk Barlaam should

[here the two cats became vociferous in their impatience for the fish]

be sent on an embassy to the Pope of Rome; he was empowered to enter

into negotiations for the settlement of all religious differences

between the Eastern and Western churches, on condition that the Latin

princes should assist the emperor to drive the Turks back into the

confines of Asia. The Emperor Andronicus died from a fever brought on by

excitement in defending the cause of the ascetic quietists before a

council in his palace. John Paleologus was set aside; and John

Cantacuzene, in a desperate endeavour to please all parties, gave his

daughter Theodora to Orchan the Emperor of the Osmanlis; and at his

coronation the purple buskin of his right leg was fastened on by the

Greeks, and that of his left leg by the Latins. Notwithstanding these

concessions, the embassy of Barlaam, the most important with which any

diplomatic agent was ever trusted, failed altogether from the troubles

of the times. The Emperor John Cantacuzene, who celebrated his own acts

in an edict beginning with the words 'by my sublime and almost

incredible virtue,' gave up the reins of power, and taking the name of

Josaph, became a monk of one of the monasteries of the holy mountain,

which was then known by the name of the monastery of Mangane, while the

monk Barlaam was created Bishop of Gerace, in Italy."

By the time the good abbot had come to the conclusion of his history,

the fish was cold and the dinner spoilt; but I thought his account of

the extraordinary notions which the monks of those dark ages had formed

of the duties of Christianity so curious, that it almost compensated for

the calamity of losing the only good dinner which I had seen on Mount

Athos.

What a difference it would have made in the affairs of Europe if the

embassy of Barlaam had succeeded! The Turks would not have been now in

possession of Constantinople; and many points of difference having been

mutually conceded by the two great divisions of the church, perhaps the

Reformation never would have taken place. The narration of these events

was the more interesting to me, as I had it from the lips of a monk who

to all intents and purposes was living in the darkness of remote

antiquity. His ample robes, his long beard, and the Byzantine

architecture of the ancient room in which we sat, impressed his words

upon my remembrance; and as I looked upon the eager countenance of the

abbot, whose thoughts still were fixed upon the world from which he had

retired, while he discoursed of the troubles and discords which had

invaded the peaceful glades and quiet solitudes of the holy mountain, I

felt that there was no place left on this side of the grave where the

wicked cease from troubling or where the weary are at rest. No places,

however, that I have seen equal the beauty of the scenery and the calm

retired look of the small farmhouses, if they may so be called, which I

met with in my rides on the declivities of Mount Athos. These buildings

are usually situated on the sides of hills opening on the land which the

monastic labourers cultivate; they consist of a small square tower,

usually appended to which are one or two little stone cottages, and an

ancient chapel, from which the tinkling of the bar which calls the monks

to prayer may be heard many times a day echoing softly through the

lovely glades of the primæval forest. The ground is covered in some

places with anemones and cyclamen; waterfalls are met with at the head

of half the valleys, pouring their refreshing waters over marble rocks.

If the great mountain itself, which towers up so grandly above the

enchanting scenery below, had been carved into the form of a statue of

Alexander the Great, according to the project of Lysippus, though a

wonderful effort of human labour, it could hardly have added to the

beauty of the scene, which is so much increased by the appearance of the

monasteries, whose lofty towers and rounded domes appear almost like the

palaces we read of in a fairy tale.

The next morning, at an early hour, mules were waiting in the court to

carry me across the hills to the harbour below the monastery of

Xeropotamo, where the Greek brig was lying which was to convey me and my

treasures from these peaceful shores. Emptying out my girdle, I

calculated how much, or rather how little money would suffice to pay the

expenses of my voyage to the Asiatic castle of the Dardanelles, feeling

assured that from thence I could get credit for a passage in the

magnificent steamer _The Stamboul_, which ran between Smyrna and

Constantinople. With the reservation of this sum, I gave the agoumenos

all my remaining gold, and in return he provided me with an old wooden

chest, in which I stowed away several goodly folios; for the

saddle-bags, although distended to their utmost limits, did not suffice

to carry all the great manuscripts and ponderous volumes that were now

added to my store. Turning out the corn from the nosebags of the mules,

I put one or two smaller books in each; and, after all, an extra mule

was sent for to convey the surplus tomes over the rough and craggy ridge

which we were to pass in our journey to the other sea. Although the

stories of the agoumenos were too windy and too long, I was sorry to

part from him, and I took an affectionate leave also of Pater Joasaph

and the two cats. Unfortunately, in the hurry of departure, I left on

the divan the MS. of Justin, which I had been trying to decipher, and

forgot it when I came away. It was a small thick octavo, on charta

bombycina, and was probably kicked into the nearest corner as soon as I

evacuated the monastery.

Our ride was a very rough one. We had first to ascend the hill, in some

places through deep ravines, and in others through most glorious forests

of gigantic trees, mostly planes, with a thick underwood of those

aromatic flowering evergreens which so beautifully clothe the hills of

Greece and this part of Turkey.

When we had crossed the upper ridge of rock, leaving the peak of Athos

towering to the sky on our left, we had to descend the dry bed of a

torrent so full of great stones and fallen rocks, that it appeared

impossible for anything but a goat to travel on such a road. I got off

my mule, and began jumping from one rock to another on the edge of the

precipice; but the sun was so powerful, that in a short time I was

completely exhausted; and on looking at the mules, I saw that one after

another they jumped down so unerringly over chasms and broken rocks,

alighting so precisely in the exact place where there was standing-room

for their feet, that, after a little consideration, I remounted my mule;

and keeping my seat, without holding the bridle, we hopped and skipped

from rock to rock down this extraordinary track, until in due time we

arrived safely at the sea-shore, close to the mouth of the little river

of Xeropotamo. My manuscripts and myself were soon embarked, and with a

favouring breeze we stood out into the Gulf of Monte Santo, and had

leisure to survey the scenery of this superb peninsula as we glided

round the lofty marble rocks and noble forests which formed the

background to the strange and picturesque Byzantine monasteries with

every one of which we had become acquainted.

Being a little nervous on account of the pirates, of whom I had heard

many stories during my sojourn on Mount Athos, I questioned the master

of the vessel on this subject. "Oh," said he, "the sea is now very

quiet; there have been no pirates about the coast for the last

fortnight." This assurance hardly satisfied me. How terrible it would be

to see these precious volumes thrown into the sea, like my unhappy

precursor's MS. of Homer! It was frightful to think of! We were three

days at sea, there being at this fine season very little wind. Once we

thought we were chased by a wicked-looking cutter with a large white

mainsail, which kept to windward of us; but in the end, after some hours

of deadly tribulation, during which I hid the manuscripts as well as I

could under all kinds of rubbish in the hold, we descried the stars and

stripes of America upon her ensign; so then I pulled all the old books

out again. This cutter was, I suppose, a tender to some American

man-of-war. On the evening of the third day we found ourselves safe

under the guns of Roumeli Calessi, the European castle of the

Dardanelles; and, after a good deal of tedious tacking, we got across to

the Asiatic castle of Coom Calessi, where I landed with all my

treasures. Before long, the Smyrna steamer, _The Stamboul_, hove in

sight, and I took my passage in her to Constantinople.

THE END.

London: Printed by W. Clowes and Son, Stamford Street.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Moyah--"water."

[2] This, the first mosque built at Cairo, is said to have been paid for

by Sultan Tayloon with a part of an immense treasure in gold, which he

found under a monument called the altar of Pharaoh, on the mountain of

Mokattam. This building was destroyed by Tayloon, who founded a mosque

upon the spot in the year 873, in honour of Judah, the brother of

Joseph, who resorted there to pray when he came to Egypt. This mosque

becoming ruined, another was built upon the spot by the Emir El Guyoosh,

minister of the Caliph Mostansir, A.D. 1094, which still remains perched

on the corner of a rock, which is excavated in various places with

ancient tombs.

[3] A fragment of the Gospel of St. Mark was found in the tomb which was

reputed to be his. Damp and age have decayed this precious relic, of

which only some small fragments remain; but an exact facsimile of it was

made before it was destroyed. This facsimile is now in my possession: it

is in Latin, and is written in double columns, on sixteen leaves of

vellum, of a large quarto size, and proves that whoever transcribed the

original must have been a proficient in the art of writing, for the

letters are of great size and excellent formation, and in the style of

the very earliest manuscripts.

[4] See Quarterly Review, vol. lxxvii. p. 43.

[5] It is perhaps more likely that these beautiful specimens of ancient

glass were made in the island of Murano, in the lagunes of Venice, as

the manufactories of the Venetians supplied the Mahomedans with many

luxuries in the middle ages.

[6] The only early church in which the columns are continued on the end

opposite to the altar, where the doorway is usually situated, is the

Cathedral of Messina. The effect is very good, and takes off from the

baldness usually observable at that end of a basilica. The early Coptic

churches have no porch or narthex, an essential part of an original

Greek church.

[7] This curious old sunken oratory bears a resemblance in many points

to the fine church of St. Agnese, at Rome, where the ground has been

excavated down to the level of the catacomb in which the holy martyr's

body reposes. The long straight flight of steps down to the lower level

are also similar in these two very ancient churches, although the Church

of Der-el-Adra is poor and mean, whilst that of St. Agnese is a superb

edifice, and is famous for being the first basilica in which a gallery

is found over the side aisles. This gallery was set apart for the women,

as in the oriental churches of St. Sophia at Constantinople, and

perhaps, also, of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem.

[8] It is much to be desired that some competent person should write a

small cheap book, with plates or wood-cuts explaining what an early

Christian Church was; what the ceremonies, ornaments, vestures, and

liturgy were at the time when the Church of our Lord was formally

established by the Emperor Constantine: for the numerous well-meaning

authors who have written on the restoration of our older churches,

appear to me to be completely in the dark. Gothic is NOT Christian

architecture--it is Roman Catholic architecture: the vestures of English

ecclesiastics are not restorations of early simplicity--they are modern

inventions taken from German collegiate dresses which have nothing to do

with religion.

[9] We are perhaps not entirely acquainted with the mechanical powers of

the ancients. The seated statue of Rameses II., in the Memnonium at

Thebes, a solid block of granite forty or fifty feet high, has been

broken to pieces apparently by a tremendous blow. How this can have been

accomplished without the aid of gunpowder it is difficult to conjecture.

[10] For the benefit of the reader I subjoin two of there songs

translated from the originals; or rather, I may say, paraphrased:

although the first of them has the same rhythm as the original. The

notes are but very little, if at all, altered from those which have been

frequently sung to me, accompanied by a drum, called a tarabouka, or a

long sort of guitar with only two or three strings. It must be observed

that the chorus, Amaan, Amaan, Amaan, is generally added to all

songs--_à discrétion_--and that the way this chorus is howled out, is to

an European ear the most difficult part to bear of the whole:--

1.

Thine eyes, thine eyes have kill'd me:

With love my heart is torn:

Thy looks with pain have fill'd me:

Amaan, Amaan, Amaan.

2.

Oh gently, dearest! gently,

Approach me not with scorn:

With one sweet look content me:

Amaan, Amaan, Amaan.

3.

That yellow shawl encloses

A form made to adorn

A Peri's bower of roses:

Amaan, Amaan, Amaan.

4.

The snows, the snows are melting

On the hills of Isfahan.

As fair, be as relenting:

Amaan, Amaan, Amaan.

* * * *

1.

Let not her, whose eyelids sleep,

Imagine I no vigil keep.

Alas! with hope and love I burn:

Ah! do not from thy lover turn!

2.

Patron of lovers, Bedowi!

Ah! give me her I hold most dear;

And I will vow to her, and thee,

The brightest shawl In all Cashmere.

3.

Ah! when I view thy loveliness,

The lustre of thy deep black eye,

My songs but add to my distress!

Let me behold thee once, and die.

4.

Think not that scorn and bitter words

Can make me from my true love sever!

Pierce our hearts, then, with your swords:

The blood of both will flow together.

5.

Fill us the golden bowl with wine;

Give us the ripe and downy peach:

And, in this bower of jessamine,

No sorrows our retreat shall reach.

6.

Masr may boast her lovely girls,

Whose necks are deck'd with pearls and gold:

The gold would fall; the purest pearls

Would blush could they my love behold.

7.

Famed Skanderieh's beauties, too,

On Syria's richest silks recline:

Their rosy lips are sweet, 'tis true;

But can they be compar'd to thine?

8.

Fairest! your beauty comes from Heaven:

Freely the lovely gift was given.

Resist not, then, the high decree--

'Twas fated I should sigh for thee.

This last song is well known upon the Nile by the name of its chorus,

_Doas ya leili_.

[11] This sword is used by the Reverendissimo, the title given to the

superior of the Franciscans, when he confers the order of Knight of the

Holy Sepulchre, which is only given to a Roman Catholic of noble birth.

The Reverendissimo is also authorised by the Pope to give a flag bearing

the Five Crosses of Jerusalem to the captain of any ship who has

rendered service to the Catholic religion. These honours were first

instituted by the Christian Kings of Jerusalem, but they are now sold by

the monks for about forty dollars to any Roman Catholic who likes to pay

for them.

[12] On another occasion some years afterwards, I was waiting in the

same place, when I wandered into the new Patriarchal church which opens

on this court: while I stood there, a corpse was brought in on a bier,

followed by many persons, who I suppose were the relations and friends

of the deceased. After the funeral service had been read by a priest,

every person in the church went up to the bier and kissed the dead man's

hand and forehead: this is the usual custom, and an affecting one to see

when friends bid friends a last farewell. But this man had died of some

fearful and horrible disease, perhaps the plague, which through this

horrid means may have been distributed to half the congregation.

[13] All eastern cities are infested with troops of half-wild dogs, who

act the part of scavengers, and live upon the refuse food which is

thrown into the streets.

[14]

DIRECTION.--"To the blessed Inspectors, Officers, Chiefs, and

Representatives of the Holy Community of Monte Santo, and to the

Holy Fathers of the same, and of all other sacred convents, our

beloved Sons.

"We, Gregorios, Patriarch, Archbishop Universal, Metropolitan of

Constantinople, &c. &c. &c.

"Blessed Inspectors, Officers, Superiors, and Representatives of

the Community of the Holy Mountain, and other Holy Fathers of the

same, and of the other Holy and Venerable Convents subject to our

holy universal Throne. Peace be to you.

"The bearer of the present, our patriarchal sheet, the Honourable Robert

Curzon, of a noble English family, recommended to us by most worthy and

much-honoured persons, intending to travel and wishing to be instructed

in the old and new philology, thinks to satisfy his curiosity by

repairing to those sacred convents which may have any connexion with his

intentions. We recommend his person, therefore, to you all: and we order

and require of you, that you not only receive him with every esteem and

every possible hospitality, in each and in the several holy convents;

but to lend yourselves readily to all his wants and desires, and to give

him precise and clear explanations to all his interrogations relative to

his philological examinations, obliging yourselves, and lending

yourselves, in a manner not only fully to satisfy and content him, but

so that he shall approve of and praise your conduct.

"This we desire and require to be executed, rewarding you with the

Divine and with our blessing.

"(Signed) GREGORIOS, Universal Patriarch.

"Constantinople, 1 (13) July, 1837."

[15] Ridiculous as these pictorial representations of the Last Judgment

appear to us, one of them was the cause of a whole nation's embracing

Christianity. Bogoris, king of Bulgaria, having written to

Constantinople for a painter to decorate the walls of his palace, a monk

named Methodius was sent to him--all knowledge of the arts in those days

being confined to the clergy. The king desired Methodius to paint on a

certain wall the most terrible picture that he could imagine; and, by

the advice of the king's sister, who had embraced Christianity some

years before whilst in captivity at Constantinople, the monastic artist

produced so fearful a representation of the torments of the condemned in

the next world, that it had the effect of converting Bogoris to the

Christian faith. In consequence of this event the Patriarch of

Constantinople despatched a bishop to Bulgaria, who baptised the king by

the name of Michael in the year 865. Before long his loyal subjects,

following the example of their sovereign, were converted also; and

Christianity from that period became the religion of the land.

[16] In the early ages of the Greek church the Epiphany was a day of

very great solemnity; for not only was the adoration of the Magi

celebrated on the 6th of January, but also the changing of the water

into wine at the marriage at Cana, the baptism, and even the birth of

our Lord. On this day the holy water is blessed in the Greek church, by

throwing a small cross into it, or otherwise by holding over it the

cross, with a handle attached to it, which is used by the Greek clergy

in the act of benediction.

[17] The Emperor Leo the First was crowned by the Patriarch of Anatolia

in the year 459. He is the first prince on record who received his crown

from the hands of a bishop.

[18] Mosheim's 'Ecclesiastical History;' Gibbon.