-day is a point to be reckoned with.

We will first go round "the sights."

It possesses two historical buildings in the monastery and the
Billard, the rest being all of quite modern origin. The monastery is a
picturesque pile of grey stone, nestling under a lofty rock, on which
is perched the identical round tower, or "kula," to give it its local
name, on which the heads of Turks slain in battle were exhibited on
spikes. It was not so very long ago that the last grim trophies of war
graced its battlements. The monastery contains the burying vault of
the reigning house, and is the residence of the Vladika or Archbishop
of Montenegro. Prince Nicolas can be found any morning worshipping at
the tombs of his ancestors by the visitor who is willing to rise at
daybreak. Very often he is the only "faithful" present with the
officiating priest at an hour when the sun has hardly peeped over the
rocky ramparts of the town.

Prince Nicolas, the lord of this warrior nation, is a man of imposing
stature, so broad-shouldered that his height seems far less than it
really is, walking with head erect and firm tread and clad in the rich
national costume. The stranger involuntarily doffs his cap and
receives in return a short military salute, but accompanied by such a
piercing glance from a pair of cold grey eyes that he wonders if he is
not an intruder in the land. This is, however, far from the case.
Under that austere exterior beats a warm heart and an affability of
manner to which the lowliest of his peasants will gladly testify.
Prince Nicolas likes to see visitors to his land, and many are the
little acts of kindness and courtesy that the traveller receives, all
unknown, from his hand, for he knows the coming and going of everyone
who makes a longer stay than usual.

Sixty years ago Prince and Bishop were united in one person, and
though the Bishop or Vladika has to-day no temporal power, yet in
spiritual matters he is absolute. A very kindly man is the present
Vladika, Mitrofanban. By an odd coincidence his was practically the
first house we visited in Montenegro, and with him we drank our last
cup of coffee when we left many months later.

The other building is the old palace of the Princes of Montenegro,
which won its odd name of Billard or Biljar from the fact that a
former Prince was so addicted to the game of billiards that the
principal room of the palace was devoted to the game. It is now used
for State purposes. The u