part of the plain of Patras the most valuable soil in Europe. The church of St. Andrew is held in great veneration, as it is supposed to contain the bones of the Apostle, and also the stone which tradition connects with his martyrdom. The castle commands a very beautiful view of the vast bay, Mount Panachaicum, the distant summits of Zante and Cephalonia, Castle of Tornese, Mount Skopo, Mountain of Acarmania and Etolia, the Straits of Rhium, etc.

Soon after leaving Patras, some of our machinery gave way, and we were compelled to run to Zante with one wheel. Fortunately the sea was perfectly smooth, and we reached the island in safety in thirty-six hours. Zante, the ancient Zacynthus, is so celebrated for its beauty and fertility, as to be called the "Fior di Levante." It is sixty miles in circumference, fifteen miles from Chiarenza, in the Morea, and ten miles from Cephalonia. The population amounts to forty thousand persons, of whom eighteen thousand reside in the city of the same name. The greater part of the island is formed by an extensive plain, which produces great quantities of currants. The town is the largest and most flourishing of all the Ionian seaports. Its extreme breadth does not exceed three hundred yards, but it extends along the coast for a great distance. Castle Hill, which rises precipitously immediately behind the city, is strongly fortified. The houses and streets of Zante are very much after the fashion of the Italian cities, and some of the churches are very fine. When we were there it was Festa day, and most of the citizens were in the streets enjoying themselves in various ways. Great quantities of mutton were roasted in the same manner as we do at our barbecues in America, and the people seemed to eat as though they were unaccustomed to meat every day.

At Zante we took the steamer Mahmoud, from Constantinople, and ran close to the islands of Cephalonia and Ithæa, and the coast of Albania, to the city of Corfu. Here the passengers all went ashore in small boats to see the celebrated fortifications. Quite an amusing occurrence took place as we were leaving the steamer. A German, who is attached to the Austrian Legation at Constantinople, stepped into our boat with a young girl who, the ladies thought, looked rather too fast. Of course they were very indignant, and one of the gentlemen of the party undertook to carry out, by loud words and threats, what the ladies considered an insult. I

thought at one time that we would have a general mêlée in the little boat, but the difficulty was adjusted on the quay. The German apologized, and said he did not know it was a private boat. I enjoyed the fun exceedingly, and felt disposed to take sides with the German, because he was alone against six Americans. Corfu, the ancient Corcyra, is the most considerable of the Ionian islands. The Lord High Commissioner and the Parliament of the Ionian Islands have their head-quarters there; and the city, from the number of English residents, and the garrison, looks quite English. It was really a treat to meet so many that could speak our language after more than a year's absence from Great Britain.

Corfu is beautifully situated near the centre of the island, on the shore facing the continent. It is strongly fortified, and has withstood many sieges. Being at the mouth of the Adriatic, it gives England, in conjunction with Malta and Gibraltar, the entire command of the Mediterranean. The bay is completely land-locked, surrounded on three sides by the island, and on the other by the mainland, with only narrow exits to the north and south, not visible from the harbor itself. The high coast of Albania—the fortifications of the island of Vido-the citadel built on two lofty rocks extending into the sea -the palace of the Lord High Commissioner-the shady park filled with brave Highlanders, clad in their native uniform—and the distant mountains of the continent, form a panorama of great beauty.

Leaving Corfu, we proceeded on our way up the beautiful Adriatic, close to the barren and thinly populated coasts of Albania and Dalmatia. The sea was as smooth as a mirror, and the air so balmy that we passed our time principally on the deck. The day after leaving Corfu was Sabbath, and we had the Episcopal service read in the ladies' cabin by an English clergyman. The English, like the Catholics, always carry their prayer-books when they travel, something that we Americans, particularly the gentlemen, usually neglect.

We entered the small harbor of Trieste early the following morning. The captain, in compliment to Mr. Morris, our Chargé d'Affaires at Naples, hoisted the United States flag, and we cast anchor in the deep waters of the Austrian bay under the folds of the stars and stripes. And here let me bestow a compliment upon Austria which she richly deserves, and which all concede, save the English,

viz.: That her steamers are the best in the Mediterranean, and her officers the most meritorious.

Trieste (Tergeste of the Romans) is the most flourishing city in the Austrian dominions. It owes its prosperity to the Emperor Charles VI., who, in 1719, made it a free port, and to Maria Theresa, who fostered it with her patronage. It has completely supplanted Venice, "the city of the sea," has a population of nearly one hundred thousand, and engrosses nearly the entire trade of the Adriatic.

The Corso is the principal business street, and will compare well in point of beauty and activity with any street on the continent; and some of the palaces of the rich merchants built in the Venetian style are really superb. The inhabitants of Trieste are a motley race, derived from all parts of the world. The Italian language is principally spoken.

This is the place of separation from friends with whom I have travelled for many months in Africa and Asia. Parting with those we regard is always painful. I never say farewell without a pang ; but that sad word has been used so often, under cireumstances far more affecting, that I can give it utterance now with comparative complacency. Some leave for Italy's sunny clime, some for the snow-clad mountains of Switzerland, some for the gay city of Paris, and some for the capital of Austria. We have passed many joyous days together, in countries replete with every thing calculated to awaken the highest attributes of the heart and the mind; and hereafter, when I bring to memory the past, my old companions will be with me again.

LETTER FIFTY-SEVEN.

VIENNA.

Departure from Trieste-Cave of Adelsberg-Gratz-Erzherzog Karl-Vienna Tailor-Austrian Money-Police Office-Volks-garten.

AFTER examining the quays, streets, and churches of Trieste, Johnstone and myself started in the diligence for Laybach, the terminus of the Vienna railroad. From the top of the lofty hill just behind

Trieste, we had an excellent view of the city and the Adriatic. It is a beautiful prospect, and as we moved slowly up the serpentine road, I looked mournfully upon the blue sea, and endeavored in vain to extend my vision to the dreamy city of Venice. I love Venice, not alone for its historical associations and unique beauty, but because some of the happiest moments of my life have been passed in her palaces and on her canals. My stay there appears more like a dream than a reality, and if the residue of my life could be as the time passed in Venice, I would not ask a better future. But away with such thoughts-we were in a lumbering diligence on a turnpike road, running through a broken and barren country, similar to that in the region of the Mammoth Cave in Kentucky.

About one mile from the village of Adelsberg is the cavern known by the name of the Grotto of Adelsberg, which is probably the largest subterranean passage in Europe. It is four miles in extent, and the formations upon the whole are more interesting than those of the Mammoth Cave. The chambers are not so extensive but better preserved, having been strictly guarded against the hand of the visitor, by the officers of the government. The entrance is in the face of a cliff below a ruined castle. Here the river Poik, after winding through the plain, sinks into the cave, and may be seen about one hundred and eighty yards from the entrance, by the light of the taper, struggling to make its way through the devious passages of the deep abyss. Like the Mammoth Cave, you enter a small hole closed by an iron gate, leading into a long, low gallery, to a vast hall one hundred feet high and more than three hundred feet long, called the Dom. This is the only part of the cavern known down to 1819, when a laborer working in the cave accidentally broke through a screen of stalactite, and discovered that this was "but the vestibule of one of the most magnificent of all the temples which Nature has built for herself in the region of the night." Rude steps cut in the rock lead down one side of this chamber to the river, which is crossed by a wooden bridge; and the opposite side is scaled in a like manner. You then pass through a range of

chambers, varying in size, but by far the most interesting from the variety, beautiful purity, and quantity of their stalactites and stalagmites. The singular shapes of some of the formations have given rise to various names applied by the guides, according to the like

ness which they discover in them to real objects, such as the throne, the pulpit, the butcher's shop, the two hearts, the bell, which resounds almost like metal, the curtain, a curious mass, about an inch thick, spread out in such a manner as to represent perfectly a piece of drapery, and beautifully transparent. The last and most remarkable chamber is called Mount Calvary, from a collection of fallen rocks in the centre, incrusted and partly cemented together by stalactitic matter. This chamber is very high, and the formations present a singular variety of beauty. On Whit Monday one of the chambers is converted into a ball-room, and the peasant lads and lasses assemble for miles around, and make the regions of darkness re-echo with sounds of mirth and music.

Returning to the village of Adelsberg, we proceeded in the diligence to Laybach, where we took the railroad for the Emperor's City, passing through Gratz and a section of country remarkably beautiful and fertile. At the Vienna gate our luggage was searched with more than ordinary care, but they failed to discover any contraband articles. We profited by a previous difficulty in Lombardy, and pocketed our weapons, which the Austrians seem to have a peculiar disposition to find in the possession of Americans.

We drove to the Erzherzog Karl, (Archduke Charles,) a fashionable hotel situated in the old city near the Cathedral and main street Grabbin. This hotel is conducted on a magnificent scale, and they charge a magnificent price. So much for being fashionable. The first question we asked of the landlord the next morning was suggested by the contrast between our dress and that of our neighbors at the breakfast table. We had been out of the reach of civilization so long that we had fallen far behind the fashions, and looked so rusty that we felt out of place, and hurried, after a hasty meal, to a Grabbin tailor, where we selected a wardrobe suitable, as we thought, for our purposes. In two days we were comme il faut, and felt prepared to meet the gaze of the most fastidious Brummell of the Erzherzog Karl. After changing our garb we hardly knew each other, and were frequently heard to exclaim, Johnstone, is that you? Yes! Mac, is that you? All this however was at the expense of our purse, which was well nigh empty when we took leave of the Grabbin tailor. Every thing is extremely dear in Vienna, much more so than any place we have visited. They attribute their high prices