s, whose dark blue denoted their immense depth; tall green hills,
which ascended gradually from the shore, formed the background to the
west; they were carpeted to the top with turf of the most vivid green,
and studded here and there with woods, seemingly of oak; there was a
strange old castle half-way up the ascent, a village on a crag--but the
mists of morning were half veiling the scene when I surveyed it, and the
mists of time are now hanging densely between it and my no longer
youthful eye; I may not describe it;--nor will I try.

Leaving the ship in the cove, we passed up a wide river in boats till we
came to a city, where we disembarked. It was a large city, as large as
Edinburgh to my eyes; there were plenty of fine houses, but little
neatness; the streets were full of impurities; handsome equipages rolled
along, but the greater part of the population were in rags; beggars
abounded; there was no lack of merriment, however; boisterous shouts of
laughter were heard on every side. It appeared a city of contradictions.
After a few days' rest we marched from this place in two divisions. My
father commanded the second, I walked by his side.

Our route lay up the country; the country at first offered no very
remarkable feature, it was pretty, but tame. On the second day, however,
its appearance had altered, it had become more wild; a range of distant
mountains bounded the horizon. We passed through several villages, as I
suppose I may term them, of low huts, the walls formed of rough stones
without mortar, the roof of flags laid over wattles and wicker-work; they
seemed to be inhabited solely by women and children; the latter were
naked, the former, in general, blear-eyed beldames, who sat beside the
doors on low stools, spinning. We saw, however, both men and women
working at a distance in the fields.

I was thirsty; and going up to an ancient crone, employed in the manner
which I have described, I asked her for water; she looked me in the face,
appeared to consider a moment, then tottering into her hut, presently
reappeared with a small pipkin of milk, which she offered to me with a
trembling hand. I drank the milk; it was sour, but I found it highly
refreshing. I then took out a penny and offered it to her, whereupon she
shook her head, smiled, and, patting my face with her skinny hand,
murmured some words in a tongue which I had never heard before.

I walked on by my father's side, holding the stirrup-lea