novelties of every description. The retreat which offered us a resting-place, seemed to be more fit for the habitation of genii than for men. We could form no distinct idea of the objects which encompassed us. The monastery, with its domes and terraces, and the lofty crags that rose, like so many giant sentinels, over this sequestered shrine of religion, were all shrouded in solemn and profound obscurity.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CALEDROME AND EURITANIA.

THE Abbot, who, after breakfast, was pleased to accompany us to the church of the establishment, seemed to have no definite idea of its history, and the archives of the retreat having suffered by fire a few years ago, he very safely placed the era of its foundation in that dim and obscure region, which, though distant, is very convenient, and which, in the language of the law, is very appropriately termed, "time out of mind." The church, however, belongs to that order of architecture which was prevalent in the middle ages, and its dome with the cross that surmounts it, are of themselves sufficient proofs of its antiquity. The proportions of the building suffer materially from its proximity to the stupendous crags above it, but its beauty and symmetry are not wholly lost, and the effects of age are effectually and diligently screened by the festoons of the mantling ivy. The shrine of the monastery is worthy of its renowned locality.

The most remarkable thing about this monastery

is, its natural and artificial strength. Half a dozen men in each of the towers at the entrance, would be sufficient to arrest the progress of a whole army. It was in this, and in situations like these, that the monastic orders of the Greek church, sought an asylum, and by a series of sacrifices, worthy of all commendation, they preserved through the gloom of the dark ages, not only the vestal fire of religion, but the embers of liberty and learning. But for the monasteries and the monks, who became the Palladiums and the Guardians of the national institutions, it would have been impossible for the Greeks to have preserved, for so great a length of time, the elements of their nationality.

About ten o'clock we left the good Abbot, who added his blessings to his hospitality, and from the tower which guards the northern entrance of the monastery, we took our leave of this monastic retreat, and the everlasting rocks which encompass it. Our guards, who appeared to be as much interested in the welfare of the place, and as much pleased with the hospitality of its inmates as ourselves, expressed their good wishes by the discharge of their fire-arms. Their farewells were immediately responded to by the guns and the carabines of the good Fathers, and in an instant the whole region was in an uproar-peal after peal reverberated through valley and glen, and the loud echo continued till every rock and every mountain caught and returned the challenge.

In leaving the tower we entered upon that portion of the pass which is called the "Kangelia" -the windings—and which may be said to constitute the chorus of this magnificent and sublime work of nature. The side of the mountain, which is belted by the foot-path, is broken into a number of sharp angles, which run in and out like the zig-zags of the forked lightning, and interpose no small obstacles to the progress of the traveller; for in passing the inner bend he has to cross a bed of loose round stones, while in doubling the point of the salient angle, he finds himself at the tip end of a crag, with mountains above and yawning abysses beneath.

Beyond the termination of the Kangelia, we forded the Castaniotes, ascended Mount Arakinthus, and crossed the river of Caledrome, which, like Castaniotes, unites with the Cambilos, and falls into the Achelous, and about two o'clock in the afternoon gained the second Zygos. From its summit, which is consecrated to St. Elias, we caught the first glimpse of the valley and the town of Caledrome, with the towering Pindus to the rear of it. The long and narrow valley, with its cornfields and green meadows, was exceedingly beautiful, and in perfect contrast with the wild and savage scenes through which we had passed in the course of the two last days.

From the heights of St. Elias we repaired to the copious fountains of Mecro Chorgio, a small but

very beautifully situated hamlet, and from thence descended to the valley, which is noted, not only for its natural attractions, but also for having been the scene of important events in the history of the country. At the head of the valley and to the left of the Kephalorvrese—the head sources—we saw the remains of the Turkish camp, and within it the enclosure which has been consecrated by the death of the lamented Marco Botzaris.

The locality to which we were directed by our guide answered to the descriptions we had received from those who were in the company of Marco Botzaris during the eventful night of the 8th of August, 1823, and who participated in the dangers and the glory of the enterprise; but the particulars we obtained from the same authentic source with regard to the event itself, do not seem to tally with common report, and there is no doubt that the history of the times has distorted and magnified one of the principal points in the transaction, viz. the death of Marco Botzaris in the tent of the Turkish Pasha. According to the testimony of the Suliotes-the men who are immediately interested in the fame of their hero-the Pasha was not even in the camp on the night of the 8th.

Jaladin Bey, the uncle of Scodrah Pasha, and the general who led the van-guard of the Turkish army, had just descended the steep sides of the mountain to the rear of Carpenisi, when Marco Botzaris, who was despatched to intercept the