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pear before him, all hearts and harems are opened, : and he is welcomed as if he were carrying to the dying lip, water from the fountain of youth, or the elixir of immortality. The physician, more than any one else, possesses the mollia tempora fandi, and his conversation with his patients should have the charm which is attributed to the conversation of lovers, where self being the topic, the discourse must needs be pleasant. In darker hours, disease and the approach of death, place the world in the true point of view in which the Bible places it, in its own naked light, cleared from the false coloring of the passions ; strip it of its pretensions to substance and endurance, and shew the wilderness of life without its mirage. In many cases, the cure of the body, as in the early miracles, might precede the cure of the soul; but if not, some positive good is done when science is enriched, diseases removed, and the gratitude and respect of many are secured to the healer of the body.”

Besides the sick, I occasionally met with another class of unfortunates, which the peculiar circumstances of the country greatly tend to produce. One of these called by the people the Prophet Elias, was as he said, ninety-five years old, and his appearance did not contradict his assertion. He lived. alone amidst some subterranean ruins in a retired part of the island. An unavailing pursuit after some plundered property had drawn him away from his friends and kindred, to the distance of one hundred hours. Feeble as he was, and possessing nothing in the world but the sorry beast with which he bore faggots to market for his daily bread, he had no prospect of ever revisiting them again. Whenever he met me, he very thankfully re

ceived his para, and he sometimes came on his poor donkey, his only companion and almost his only friend, to obtain some broken victuals from my table. In return he used to express his gratitude by an attempt at music upon his simple pipe, and a look which seemed to say, there is still one of the human race, who does not regard me with total indifference. At evening when I took my solitary walk along the shore of the sea, I seldom failed to find him watching for me at the entrance of his cell. Almost the only Greek word which he knew was—ò 0ɛós-God, which was his usual reply to the little comforts and medicines that I carried him. If the present severe winter has not ended his days, there is at least one in Prinkipos—the old hermit of Camara, who has not forgotten the stranger missionary.

Nuno, the Bulgarian ascetic, was driven from society by disappointments which operate in every land. He said to one of our company, who spoke Russian, and who had known him for twenty years, that his whole age was but thirty-six, having grown grey, as he added, from much labor. The particular direction which his fancy or his religious scruples had taken, was quite as unexceptionable as that of the monks of St. George, near the foot of whuse hill he is now sheltered. All but three or four hours out of the twenty-four, he is constantly engaged in the cultivation of his garden. That which he at present occupies, is the third which he has redeemed from the surrounding waste. He shewed us his little chapel in a cleft of the rock, to wbich he descends by a rope. This he visits three times daily, lighting his lamp at evening. It did not please bim, though of the same religion with the monks, shall have learned the languages of the people. The islanders have some slight quarantine regulations among themselves, such as requiring a change of dress when any one arrives during the prevalence of the plague. Owing to this and perhaps other causes, they are certainly less subject to it, than the villages on either continent. An insular situation is not without its own class of inconveniences and expenses, to set off against this advantage.

CHAPTER XVII.

TOUR ALONG THE COAST OF BITHYNIA.

Reasons for undertaking the journey--First fifteen miles from Con

stantinople--Chartalami-Aga of the village-Friendly treatment of the Turkish authorities–Attempts of the villagers at imposition-Panteichion-Ruined Greek MonasteriesTousla—Applications for medical aid - Visit to a Turkish ladyBad character of the people-Tousla to Aritchu.

Prinkipos, July 25, 1827. After recovering somewhat from an attack of the prevailing fever, I determined on taking a water excursion for the benefit of my health. I thought it also a favorable occasion for visiting the villages along the borders of the ancient Bithynia, and for putting into circulation, Greek and Greco-Turkish scriptures and tracts. Besides my usual Greek attendant, Nicholas, I chose also to take with me the teacher Panagiotes, thinking that for a few days he would be more useful to me as an interpreter, than by confining himself at

home to the translation of tracts into Greco-Turkish. I had chartered a small two-oared boat at a fixed price by the day, and at seven o'clock in the morning the boatmen pulled cheerfully for the village of Chartalami, on the opposite main.

It is usually reckoned four hours from Chartalami to Scutari, but from having walked over the intervening distance repeatedly, I should think it at least fifteen miles. The road passes for the most part near to the shore, and at the foot of a considerable range of hills. It is the great land route from the interior of Asia to Constantinople. After leaving the streets of Scutari, you have almost an hour's journey through a vast Turkish cemetery. No traveller fails to celebrate its numberless marble monuments of snowy whiteness, and cypresses of sober green overshadowing them. Whether because it is nearer to the tomb of the Prophet, or on a more sacred continent, or from a prevailing impression, that they shall one day be driven out of Europe, certain it is, that Scutari is the favorite burying place of the Turks. A new palace is building for the Grand Seignior, a little above Scutari, on the Bosphorus. The Greeks who are compelled to labor on this, as well as on the barracks near the southern promontory of Scutari, whisper among themselves that it is because the Sultan expects soon to be deprived of his present palace. In the midst of the forest of cypresses, are the stone cutters' shops where the “turbaned stone” is wrought, and the verse of the Koran inscribed over the tomb of the pious Mussulman..

As you continue your journey, on the right hand at short intervals, are left near the shore, first

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the new barracks; then a ruined kiosk of a former Sultan; next Kaddi-kui the site of Chalcedon, and bebeyond a small bay, Fanar Baktchesi. I have sometimes stopped at this cool and truly oriental retreat, now less frequented since the destruction of the Janissa ries. Still not a few Turkish families continue to cross over from Constantinople to Scutari, and in the arabat, a sort of baggage waggon drawn by oxen, take an airing along the shore. Here they spread their carpets and perform their mid-day devotions, under trees from whose tops is heard the cooing of doves, and by the side of reservoirs and fountains. No notice seems to be taken nor offence given, if in the midst of their prostrations you seat yourself near them. The fe males and children are concealed from the rest of the company by intervening tent-cloths. Beyond FanarBaktchesi, are some low meadows in which I have seen the swan sporting itself; and at the distance of two hours a small stream with a bridge of stone-a very rare occurrence in Turkey. Here is posted a Turkish guard, who examine the tescarees or passports of travellers, and for which they receive a fixed num ber of paras. In another hour the village of Maltepe, is passed on the shore, where are about one hundred families, principally Greeks. Several other villages appear at a distance on the hills.

Chartal, or Chartalami, as it is usually called, contains about two hundred houses. Of these, a few be long to the Armenians, one third to the Turks, and the remainder to the Greeks. There are two Greek churches, and two mosques. The minarets of the latter, as well as those of Constantinople, I have seen lighted up during the fast of the Ramazan, from my residence in Prinkipos. A small castle of former times

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