ebanon and a Judas-tree bent beneath its blood. On a seat in
the midst another bearded father beneath a wide hat is reading a proof.
And through the leaves the sunlight is splashing on the cloisters,
pillars, and white walls.

[Illustration: THE ARMENIAN MONASTERY AND THE LAGOON]

The refectory is a long and rather sombre room. Here, says the little
guide-book to the island, prepared by one of the fathers who had
overcome most of the difficulties of our tongue, "before sitting down to
dine grace is said in common; the president recites some prayer, two of
the scholars recite a psalm, the Lord's prayer is repeated and the meal
is despatched in silence. In the meantime one of the novices appears in
the pulpit and reads first a lesson from the Bible, and then another
from some other book. The meal finished, the president rings a bell, the
reader retires to dine, the Community rises, they give thanks and retire
to the garden."

Next upstairs. We are taken first to the room which was Byron's, where
the visitors' book is kept. I looked from the window to see upon what
prospect those sated eyes could fall, and found that immediately
opposite is now the huge Excelsior Hotel of the Lido. In Byron's day the
Lido was a waste, for bathing had hardly been invented. The reverence in
which the name and memory of his lordship are still held suggests that
he took in the simple brothers very thoroughly. Not only have they his
portrait and the very table at which he sat, but his pens, inkstand, and
knife. His own letters on his refuge are interesting. Writing to Moore
in 1816 he says: "By way of divertisement, I am studying daily, at an
Armenian monastery, the Armenian language. I found that my mind wanted
something craggy to break upon; and this--as the most difficult thing I
could discover here for an amusement--I have chosen, to torture me into
attention. It is a rich language, however, and would amply repay any one
the trouble of learning it. I try, and shall go on; but I answer for
nothing, least of all for my intentions or my success." He made a few
metrical translations into Armenian, but his principal task was to help
with an English and Armenian grammar, for which, when it was ready, he
wrote a preface. Byron usually came to the monastery only for the day,
but there was a bedroom for him which he occasionally occupied. The
superior, he says, had a "beard like a meteor." A brother who was there
at the time and survived till