f peace and silence. Oh, that delightful region,
haunted by all the bright spirits of the immortal Grecian Song! Chased
away from the rest of the earth, here they have found a home--here
secret altars remain to them from the times that are departed!

Out of these woods, we passed into a lonely plain, inclosed by piny hills
that brightened in the thin, pure ether. In the distance were some
shepherds' tents, and musical goat-bells tinkled along the edges of the
woods. From the crest of a lofty ridge beyond this plain, we looked back
over the wild solitudes wherein we had been travelling for two days--long
ranges of dark hills, fading away behind each other, with a perspective
that hinted of the hidden gulfs between. From the western slope, a still
more extensive prospect opened before us. Over ridges covered with forests
of oak and pine, we saw the valley of the Pursek, the ancient Thymbrius,
stretching far away to the misty line of Keshish Dagh, The mountains
behind Kintahya loomed up high and grand, making a fine feature in the
middle distance. We caught but fleeting glimpses of the view through the
trees; and then, plunging into the forest again, descended to a cultivated
slope, whereon there was a little village, now deserted. The graveyard
beside it was shaded with large cedar-trees, and near it there was a
fountain of excellent water. "Here," said the old man, "you can wash and
pray, and then rest awhile under the trees." Francois excused us by saying
that, while on a journey, we always bathed before praying; but, not to
slight his faith entirely, I washed my hands and face before sitting down
to our scanty breakfast of bread and water.

Our path now led down through long, winding glens, over grown with oaks,
from which the wild yellow honeysuckles fell in a shower of blossoms. As
we drew near the valley, the old man began to hint that his presence had
been of great service to us, and deserved recompense. "God knows," said
he to Francois, "in what corner of the mountains you might now be, if I
had not accompanied you." "Oh," replied Francois, "there are always plenty
of people among the woods, who would have been equally as kind as yourself
in showing us the way." He then spoke of the robbers in the neighborhood,
and pointed out some graves by the road-side, as those of persons who had
been murdered. "But," he added, "everybody in these parts knows me, and
whoever is in company with me is always safe." The Greek assu