copy, but the original."

"The temptation is irresistible.--My mind is made up to follow your
advice."

We now went in a body, and paid our visit to the Bishop of Csatsak,
who lives in the finest house in the place; a large well-built villa,
on a slight eminence within a grassy inclosure. The Bishop received us
in an open kiosk, on the first floor, fitted all round with cushions,
and commanding a fine view of the hills which inclose the plain of the
Morava. The thick woods and the precipitous rocks, which impart rugged
beauty to the valley of the Drina, are here unknown; the eye wanders
over a rich yellow champaign, to hills which were too distant to
present distinct details, but vaguely grey and beautiful in the
transparent atmosphere of a Servian early autumn.

The Bishop was a fine specimen of the Church militant,--a stout fiery
man of sixty, in full-furred robes, and a black velvet cap. His
energetic denunciations of the lawless appropriations of Milosh, had
for many years procured him the enmity of that remarkable individual;
but he was now in the full tide of popularity.

His questions referred principally to the state of parties in England,
and I could not help thinking that his philosophy must have been
something like that of the American parson in the quarantine at
Smyrna, who thought that fierce combats and contests were as necessary
to clear the moral atmosphere, as thunder and lightning to purify the
visible heavens. We now took leave of the Bishop, and went homewards,
for there had been several candidates for entertaining me; but I
decided for the jovial doctor, who lived in the house that was
formerly occupied by Jovan Obrenovitch, the youngest and favourite
brother of Milosh.

Next morning, as early as six o'clock, I was aroused by the
announcement that the Natchalnik had returned from the country, and
was waiting to see me. On rising, I found him to be a plain, simple
Servian of the old school; he informed me that this being a saint's
day, the Bishop would not commence mass until I was arrived. "What?"
thought I to myself, "does the Bishop think that these obstreperous
Britons are all of the Greek religion." The doctor thought that I
should not go; "for," said he, "whoever wishes to exercise the virtue
of patience may do so in a Greek mass or a Hungarian law-suit!" But
the Natchalnik decided for going; and I, always ready to conform to
the custom of the country, accompanied him.

The cathedral c