sun, is lively and alluring. The houses, domes, and
minarets, shining through gardens of orange and lemon trees and
groves of cypresses; the lake, spreading its broad mirror at the foot
of the town, and the mountains rising abrupt around, all combined to
present a landscape new and beautiful. Indeed, where may be its
parallel? the lake was the Acherusian, Mount Pindus was in sight, and
the Elysian fields of mythology spread in the lovely plains over
which they passed in approaching the town.

On entering Joannina, they were appalled by a spectacle
characteristic of the country. Opposite a butcher's shop, they
beheld hanging from the boughs of a tree a man's arm, with part of
the side torn from the body. How long is it since Temple Bar, in the
very heart of London, was adorned with the skulls of the Scottish
noblemen who were beheaded for their loyalty to the son and
representative of their ancient kings!

The object of the visit to Joannina was to see Ali Pasha, in those
days the most celebrated Vizier in all the western provinces of the
Ottoman empire; but he was then at Tepellene. The luxury of resting,
however, in a capital, was not to be resisted, and they accordingly
suspended their journey until they had satisfied their curiosity with
an inspection of every object which merited attention. Of Joannina,
it may be said, they were almost the discoverers, so little was known
of it in England--I may say in Western Europe--previous to their
visit.

The palace and establishment of Ali Pasha were of regal splendour,
combining with Oriental pomp the elegance of the Occident, and the
travellers were treated by the Vizier's officers with all the
courtesy due to the rank of Lord Byron, and every facility was
afforded them to prosecute their journey. The weather, however--the
season being far advanced--was wet and unsettled, and they suffered
more fatigue and annoyance than travellers for information or
pleasure should have had to encounter.

The journey from Joannina to Zitza is among the happiest sketches in
the Pilgrimage of Childe Harold.

He pass'd bleak Pindus, Acherusia's lake,
And left the primal city of the land,
And onwards did his farther journey take
To greet Albania's chief, whose dread command
Is lawless law; for with a bloody hand
He sways a nation, turbulent and bold:
Yet here and there some daring mountain-band
Disdain his power, and from their rocky hold
Hurl their de