library contains several manuscripts in the Albanian language, and, among others, a grammar written by one of the professors, and a volume of native songs collected by a person called Varibobba.

While I was at Naples a dispute arose between the Albanians and the congregation of the Greek Church there. The Albanians insisted on their right to be considered as members of that church, and as the government threw the weight of its authority on the side of the Albanians, I need not say that the question was decided in their favour. The dispute arose respecting a sum of money which had been left to the Greek Church, and of which the Albanians wished to participate.

Signor Masci accompanied me to the house of a canon of the church of Rossano, who possessed a manuscript of the Gospels of St. Matthew and St. Mark in Greek characters, illuminated with small figures at the beginning of each chapter. It is in excellent preservation, and must be of an early date, though I could not discover how it had come into his possession. I intend to proceed to-morrow to Cassano, in the vicinity of which stood the ancient city Sybaris; yet it is a hazardous undertaking. The lieutenant has told me that the whole village of Rossano, as he said of Pizzo, are a set of brigands, and as I know this to be an exaggeration, I trust to find the other statements to be equally so. At all events, I am resolved to face the danger.

Rossano is the ancient Roscianum mentioned in the Itinerary of Antoninus, and noticed by Procopius (B. G. iii. 30) during the Gothic wars as a strong fortress, and one of the most important strongholds in this part of Italy. It was taken by Totila A.D. 548, but continued through the middle ages to be a place of importance. Though it stands on a hill, it is overlooked by higher ground, and has now, therefore, lost its 'vantage ground.

This has been a day of great anxiety, and I cannot say that I am sorry I am now bidding adieu to Calabria, though I have every reason to be grateful for the kind and hospitable manner with which I have been almost invariably received. Still it is harassing to be constantly in the expectation of being either robbed or murdered, and during several hours of this day I was fully prepared to encounter some such fate. Thank God, however, I have escaped, and I do not intend ever again to throw myself in the way of a Calabrese brigand.

me.

This morning I was surprised to find that I had been unconsciously exposed to another danger during the night which had never occurred to A severe shock of an earthquake had taken place, and the whole inhabitants of the village had been so much alarmed that they had spent the greater part of the night in the public square, afraid of being buried in the ruins of their houses. Of course no one felt any particular interest in my safety, and I was allowed to sleep undisturbed amidst all their alarm. I have no doubt that I was entirely forgotten, and as there was no disastrous result, I am not sorry that I was allowed to remain quietly in bed. They are constantly subject to shocks in this quarter, but it seems to have been more alarming last night than it had been for several years.

My friends had procured me a muleteer, in whom, they said, I might repose entire confidence; still the old lady continued most urgent that I should remain another day, and accept a guard of gendarmes. I had,

however, made up my mind to run all risks, and I left the village Rossano at daybreak. I found a party of the inhabitants, fully armed, proceeding in my direction, but, to my disappointment, they only continued with me a short distance, being on their way to Corigliano. Our road lay through a wood, principally of olive-trees, mixed with myrtles, growing in great luxuriance, and clumps of low brushwood; it was evidently a continuation of that through which I had passed yesterday. It extended for about ten miles, and I was of course anxious that no time should be unnecessarily spent in crossing it. My mule was, however, a sad contrast to the animal I had yesterday, and the muleteer seemed to take matters very coolly. I dismounted, and tried to induce the mule to go somewhat quicker; but it was true to its nature, and refused to budge beyond a snail's pace. At last I gave up the contest in sheer despair, and quietly awaited the result. When we got clear of the wood, and I saw a level plain of several miles in extent before me, I cannot sufficiently express my delight, as I had been told that my dangers would then be at an end. Here, then, I consider that I bid adieu to Calabria and its dangers; for, though it continues a little farther north, I understand that I shall hear no more of brigands.

You may ask what opinion I have formed of the country and its inhabitants. The three Calabrias have been always, in a great measure, separated from the rest of the world. In this respect the district is unique, and the manners of its people have been little influenced by intercourse with their more civilised neighbours. Enclosed by two seas, having in the middle that lofty range of mountains which I have traversed thrice in different directions, covered for several months in the year with deep snow, without sufficient roads or communications between the different divisions, they have all the productions of the north and south, ice and tropical heat, at the distance of a few miles. Recollect the sudden change of temperature I came upon in a couple of hours, when I penetrated into the mountains of Serra. In what other part of Europe will you find another country like this? Then as to the inhabitants, I met men of the highest intelligence and polish, that would have done honour to any country, and, at the same time, the mass of the population sunk in rudeness and ignorance. It is not merely rudeness, but I heard of a ferocity of character which perpetuates family feuds from generation to generation, and regards revenge as a right and a duty. They seem now to be in the state that the Highlands of Scotland were some five hundred years ago. This disposition, inherited from their heathen progenitors, has never been in any degree softened by the influence of religion, or even of the nobility and persons of note, who are generally absentees. In former times the great feudal barons, no doubt, used to live on their properties, but wholly apart from the people, on whom they had no influence, at least for good. In fact, they composed two distinct worlds. With us, the nobility live a portion of the year on their estates, and take a deep interest in every measure that is likely to benefit themselves or their tenants. Here it is quite otherwise; agents manage everything, and transmit the rents to be spent in Naples. The feudal system subsisted in all its strictness till the beginning of this century. All the principal taxes were laid upon the lower classes, while the nobility and clergy were mostly exempted. It was a law of Joseph

He enacted that "the feudal

Bonaparte that broke up this system. system and all feudal jurisdiction be abolished, and all towns, villages, hamlets be subjected to the general laws of the country." These changes, introduced by the French, had so far taken root, that, on the restoration of the Bourbons, it was impossible to replace things on their former footing; yet some such attempts have been made, and the present government strives to secure for the nobility more favourable rights, and has confirmed the succession in fiefs which the law had done away with.

I soon reached the banks of the Crati, the ancient Crathis, which you may recollect that I crossed at Cosenza on my way to the south. I had some difficulty in fording it from the depth of the stream and the rapidity with which it flows. Indeed, if we had not met with a shepherd, who piloted us across, I should inevitably have been swept away. I tried what effect its waters would have on my hair, as Euripides says that they have the power of giving a golden-red tinge, but, alas! no such beautiful change took place, and I am obliged to remain as nature intended me. The words of Euripides (Troades, 228) are as follows:

ἂν ὑγραίνει καλλιστεύων

ὁ ξανθὰν χαίταν πυρσαίνων
Κράθις, ζαθέαις παγαῖσι τρέφων
εξανδρόν τ' ὀλβίζων γᾶν.

"Which is watered by the beautiful Crathis, imparting yellow locks, nourishing and blessing the well-peopled land with its divine stream." Ovid (Met. xv. 315) refers to the same curious property in the waters:

Crathis, et huic Sybaris nostris conterminus arvis,
Electro similes faciunt auroque capillos.

"Crathis, and Sybaris near to it in our country, impart an amber and golden hue to the hair."

I inquired afterwards if any such peculiarity was known to the inhabitants to be in the waters, but they were not aware that they possessed such powers.

Grain of every kind wavered over the drier parts of this plain, and my guide said that towards the sea herds of cattle abounded, though I saw none. The marshy ground afforded shelter to wild boars and water-fowls of every species.

FERMANAGH:

A TOUR TO THE NORTH-WEST OF IRELAND.

"ON the west and north, beyond Cavan, lies Fermanagh, formerly inhabited by the Erdini; a country full of woods and bogs. In the middle of it lies the greatest and most famous lake in this kingdom, called Lough Erne, forty miles in length, and shaded with thick woods, and full of inhabited islands, some of which contain two or three hundred acres apiece. And withal it is so well stored with pike, trout, and salmon, and other fish, that the fishermen oftener complain of breaking their nets by the plenty than of want of fish."

I

I don't know that the store of salmon is quite as plentiful now as it was when Camden wrote, but that there are plenty of trout, and fish of a commoner kind, I can testify-also to the existence of the many islands and the thick woods I can testify; for last autumn I was not only enterprising enough to visit this famous lake myself, but also prevailed on another Englishman to accompany me. don't think many Englishmen have ever seen the Irish at home. Many have been to Killarney, not quite so many to the Giant's Causeway; and, in these days of excursions, of course some have seen the Cove of Cork and Connemara. few, very few, have seen the beauties of Lough Erne, or rambled over the rocky highlands of Donegal-very few know much about Paddy's way of living, or have any true knowledge of his character.

But

The Irish people whom we have among us as haymakers and occasional labourers, are of course, the riffraff of the nation; and the tourist in Ireland only sees the idlest of the population-the boatmen and carmen. From these examples too many Britons have formed their estimate of the sons of Erin. Why, during all the seven hundred years for which the two countries have been under the rule of the same king, the people have not more united, might take too long to discuss here, and is beyond our present purpose. Our business is more with the country than the people.

It is a very easy journey from London to Dublin, and a far pleasanter one, we thought, than from our capital to Paris. After dining in London, you get into the train about half-past eight, and are soon whisked out of all the heat and dust and noise of London. At first we are surrounded with that sort of half country, half town, which abounds in villas, each with its own garden and field, and within so many minutes' walk of a railway station; and which forms the broad outer circle of our metropolis. By degrees the villas get scarcer, till only here and there a real old English house appears amongst its pleasant trees, now beginning to change their summer brightness for the more sombre tints of autumn. Then it gets dark, and the sensible traveller who has made a good dinner in town, and does not want to make a rush for refreshment-room provisions at Chester, can go comfortably to sleep till he arrives at the end of the railway in Anglesea.

It was a chilly grey morning, with a keen north-east wind, when we all had to turn out of our warm carriage to go on board the packet. These Holyhead and Kingstown steamers are the finest and most powerful passenger-boats that leave England. As we steamed out of the harbour

there was just light enough to show the fine breakwaters forming it, on which such immense sums of money have already been spent, though they are still unfinished.

We turned into Kingstown harbour three hours and fifty minutes after leaving Holyhead pier, it being a distance of sixty-four miles. But what a beautiful view was before us as we approached the coast of Ireland! The sun was then fully up, and the mists were rising slowly, just rolling the mountain-sides, until, hanging about half way up, they gave additional height and grandeur to the walls of that magnificent amphitheatre which has often been compared to Naples. On the north are the Howth hills, with the curious-shaped rock called "Ireland's Eye," standing out from the mainland, and forming a corner pillar to the bay. Dublin lies along the farthest coast, and Kingstown harbour, backed by the beautifully bold Killiney head, forms its southern point. Beyond Killiney the coast takes a bend inwards, till about six miles to the south it again juts out into the sea, forming Bray head, which is really the abrupt ending of the chain of Wicklow mountains, among which is the famous Sugar-loaf.

During the few days I spent in Dublin I walked to the top of Killiney hill, and I never saw a more beautiful view. Dublin is then stretched out like a map, built on very nearly a plain, and about equally divided into north and south by the Liffey, crowded with shipping, with her long Bull-wall running out two miles into the bay, and terminated by the Pigeon Fort. On the north, Howth hills, with the Ireland's Eye and the dazzling white buildings of the lighthouse. The beautiful blue bay, dotted with white sails, and here and there a large heavy-laden bark lazily trying to make the river. Below, lay Kingstown with its harbour, its two breakwaters, built of granite taken from the hill on which we stood, stretching out like strong guardian arms around the great man-ofwar, and the vessels of all sizes clustered round, lying safely and quietly as if they were all asleep, the wind only just flapping the heavy white sails of the yachts which were swinging with the tide ready to put to sea if enough breeze arose to make sailing pleasant. And turning round, nestled under the mountains, lying close along the shore, could be seen Bray, the delight of English tourists, who are apt to think that when they have seen Dublin, and from Bray driven out to the Seven Churches, and other Wicklow lions, they have seen a good deal of Ireland and her people. Running round Bray head, hewn out of the almost precipitous rock, Brunel's famous railway can just be discerned. He was almost an Irishman, impulsive, careless of consequences, chiefly delighting in doing what most men thought impossible. A daring spirit, but too bold for a joint-stock company! Rising to the east of the head are the two Sugar-loaf mountains, and to the east again the Dublin range. How proud we should be if we had near London scenery like this!

With Dublin itself I confess I was a little disappointed. There is an air of careless indifference about the whole town that is too true an index of the character of the people whose capital it is. There seems no attempt, except just in the few public buildings, at any ornamentation or even finish in the style of its architecture. All the faces of the streets look bare, and generally dirty. The squares are flowerless, and so are the windows of the houses, which in London often look so gay all through The prevailing idea is want of energy and want of money.

the summer.