ia, and beyond the Dictynnaean
peninsula, to the western extremity of Crete. The White Mountains, tho
less than seven thousand, feet in height, deceive the eye by the
contrast between their spotless snows and the summer at their base, and
seem to rival the Alps. The day was cloudless and balmy; birds sang on
every tree, and the grassy hollows were starred with anemones, white,
pink, violet and crimson. It was the first breath of the southern
spring, after a winter which had been as terrible for Crete as for
Greece.

After a ride of three hours, we reached a broad valley, at the foot of
that barren mountain mass in which the promontory terminates. To the
eastward we saw the large monastery of Agia Triada (the Holy Trinity),
overlooking its fat sweep of vine and olive land.... In the deep, dry
mountain glen which we entered, I found numbers of carob-trees. Rocks of
dark-blue limestone, stained with bright orange oxydations, overhung us
as we followed the track of a torrent upward into the heart of this
bleak region, where, surrounded by the hot, arid peaks, is the Monastery
of Governato.

We descended on foot to the Monastery of Katholiko, which we reached in
half an hour. Its situation is like that of San Saba in Palestine, at
the bottom of a split in the stony hills, and the sun rarely shines upon
it. Steps cut in the rock lead down the face of the precipice to the
deserted monastery, near which is a cavern 500 feet long, leading into
the rock. The ravine is spanned by an arch, nearly fifty feet high.

At Agia Triada, as we rode up the stately avenue of cypresses, between
vineyards and almond trees in blossom, servants advanced to take our
horses, and the abbot shouted, "Welcome," from the top of the steps. We
were ushered into a clean room, furnished with a tolerable library of
orthodox volumes. A boy of fifteen, with a face like the young Raphael,
brought us glasses of a rich, dark wine, something like port, some jelly
and coffee. The size and substantial character of this monastery attests
its wealth, no less than the flourishing appearance of the lands
belonging to it. Its large courtyard is shaded with vine-bowers and
orange trees, and the chapel in the center has a facade supported by
Doric columns.

THE COLOSSAL RUINS OF CNOSSOS[62]

BY PHILIP S. MARDEN

The ruins [of the Cnossos palace] lie at the east of the high road, in a
deep valley. Their excavation has been very complete and satisfactory,
a