dinary biography would be without
interest; but when it is considered how firmly the impression of them
was retained in the mind of the poet, and how intimately they entered
into the substance of his reminiscences of Greece, they acquire
dignity, and become epochal in the history of the development of his
intellectual powers.

"All the Albanians," says Mr Hobhouse, "strut very much when they
walk, projecting their chests, throwing back their heads, and moving
very slowly from side to side. Elmas (as the officer was called) had
this strut more than any man perhaps we saw afterwards; and as the
sight was then quite new to us, we could not help staring at the
magisterial and superlatively dignified air of a man with great holes
in his elbows, and looking altogether, as to his garment, like what
we call a bull-beggar." Mr Hobhouse describes him as a captain, but
by the number of men under him, he could have been of no higher rank
than serjeant. Captains are centurions.

After supper, the officer washed his hands with soap, inviting the
travellers to do the same, for they had eaten a little with him; he
did not, however, give the soap, but put it on the floor with an air
so remarkable, as to induce Mr Hobhouse to inquire the meaning of it,
and he was informed that there is a superstition in Turkey against
giving soap: it is thought it will wash away love.

Next day it rained, and the travellers were obliged to remain under
shelter. The evening was again spent with the soldiers, who did
their utmost to amuse them with Greek and Albanian songs and freaks
of jocularity.

In the morning of the 3rd of October they set out for Arta, with ten
horses; four for themselves and servants, four for their luggage, and
two for two soldiers whom they were induced to take with them as
guards. Byron takes no notice of his visit to Arta in Childe Harold;
but Mr Hobhouse has given a minute account of the town. They met
there with nothing remarkable.

The remainder of the journey to Joannina, the capital then of the
famous Ali Pasha, was rendered unpleasant by the wetness of the
weather; still it was impossible to pass through a country so
picturesque in its features, and rendered romantic by the traditions
of robberies and conflicts, without receiving impressions of that
kind of imagery which constitutes the embroidery on the vestment of
poetry.

The first view of Joannina seen in the morning light, or glittering
in the setting