beauty, which is assisted by the elegant corsage, and the red cap with the long gold tassel, which supplies the place of a bonnet. They are seldom seen in public.

But my time does not allow me to remain any longer in Greece with you for the present. I must beg you to take your map and place your finger upon the Piræus.Thence moving it across the Saronic gulf, crossing the Isthmus of Corinth, going down the gulf of Corinth, hence turning north, and winding through the Ionian Islands, and along the coast near Astium, you will reach the Island of Corfu, off the coast of Epiræus. Here I landed from one of Lloyd's steamers the afternoon of the third day. The beauty of the Island of Corfu might of itself have formed a good excuse for the long rest which Ulysses took there, when recounting the adventures of his ten years' wanderings. Several ranges of snow capped mountains rising out of the bluest, calmest, sea I ever saw, form a crescent shaped island. The extremities of this crescent run to within a couple of miles or less of the mountains of the coast of Epirus, thus forming a spacious bay some thirty-five miles in length, by twelve broad. You can hardly imagine the deep clear blue of this sea. Msays it looks like liquid Lapis Layulis. The town of Corfu is situated near the middle of the Crescent, and even without its bay or mountains, would be remarkable for the curious precipitous limestone Rock which shuts it in from the water. The Island is covered with orchards, luxuriant fields of wheat, and extensive olive groves. The olive, which is of a dusty silver green, and usually a very ugly bush tree, here attains the size of a fine forest tree. The fêtes of the ascension, the grand holiday in the island, took place while we were there.

I

went out into the country to attend, and especially to see a curious old dance called the Romaika with which it is celebrated. It is danced on the grass under the shade of the olive trees, and you would be surprised to see how these people have preserved this stiff old merry-goround for 3,000 years, while the rest of the civilized world must have a new dance with the most complicated figures and difficult steps every few months. The music is made by a single fiddle, and is so low that if you stand in the crowd opposite the fiddler you can barely hear it. I should say the tunes were played on a gamut of three notes, one for the commencing flourish, one for the tune itself, and the other to wind up on. The fiddler and dancers stand in a circle formed by the crowd. The latter consist of eight or ten women moving in single file around the circle: they hold on to each other by handkerchiefs passed from hand to hand; they neither move their limbs nor bodies, but make only a small balanceé step with their feet, while all the time they seem deeply impressd with the solemnity of the occasion; the strictest decorum is observed, and they do not allow themselves a sly glance to the right or left, much less a smile. This file is lead by a man in his stocking feet, who makes up for the stiffness of his partners, by the most violent exertions, jumping up, whirling round, throwing his arms about, and inventing a new and astonishing step every time the bow is drawn. He too, as well as the fiddler, and every one present, looks as serious as though he were engaged in the most important business of life. I believe it is the very dance described by Plutarch as invented by Theseus, when he landed with Ariadna in Greece, on his return from Crete. I think too it is the same which I saw two hundred rag

ged Bulgarians dancing before the Sultan at Constantinople. The name would seem to indicate that it was of Roman origin. However all these nations from Italy to the Danube, forgetful of their now great Past, and of the dark and bloody vicissitudes which they have since experienced, remember the period of Roman supremacy, and if you ask one of them to what nation he belongs, he answers with pride, Romaikoi-I am a Roman.

Although the majority of the people speak Italian, the official language is the Greek, and we went to the legislature and listened to discussions in that tongue.

While I remember it, let me say that I hear everywhere that you on the other side of the world, are a ready born nation of fillibusters. They assert that this arises from the very state of things with you, where every man is forced to form some comprehensive notions concerning the origin and conduct of government; or, in other words, that having too many sovereigns among you to govern one country, you are forced to export them for foreign consumption. If their reports be true, turn your backs upon Central America and its hybrid population, and send three sovereigns here, one for Sicily, one for the Ionian Isles, and one for Greece. They will find there these peoples possessed of every advantage of climate, soil, and position, ready to declare their independence, and under proper leadership to maintain it against the world. Two Pepins and a Charlemagne (and the thing has never yet been done with less) each with one of these kingdoms, might found dynasties therein, who, commanding the mediterranean, holding Russia at bay, and maintaining the balance of power between Asia and Europe, might at no distant day become the political pivot of the world.

After a long delay our steamer came, and we crossed over to Brundiscum on the Italian coast. After a short halt we proceeded towards Ancona, and stopped on the following morning, at a small village, to take on board the Prince of Sy. racuse, (brother to the king of Naples,) his two sisters, their husbands, a couple of noblemen, and a large suite of servants. The last mentioned were so much the most respectable looking, that we at first took them for the royal personages, and it was with some difficulty that we were undeceived. The Prince of Syracuse is a bluff, good natured looking man, of middle age, a little bald, a somewhat stout figure, and wears a bushy sandy colored beard. He had on checked pantaloons, slouch hat, flush colored vest, with a heavy gold fob chain. He always made his appearance with a very large cigar, the smoke of which issuing gently, slowly, and continuously from his lips and nose, evidently afforded very great satisfaction to the Royal puffer. His sisters were coarse, clumsy, vulgar looking, square-built women, with faces covered with deep red splotches. As for their lords, the two Spanish Princes, I must confess I was shocked at their appearance. They were small men, each with a game eye. The younger was knockkneed, there was a sinister squint on his splotched, unshaven visage, and what with his wide awake sailor's pea jacket and soiled shirt, he presented such an ensemble as

The other was a grizzly little fellow, with a diseased spine and hump-shouldered, but at least more respectable in his apparel than the former. They all seemed very amiable-the princesses visiting their maid servants, who were sea-sick in the forward cabin, and the princes promenading the deck with their valets. The Prince of Syracuse

With all her calm dignity, we are yet sure of her tender sympathy; we feel that she can pity our weaknesses, forgive our errors, joy in our joys, and descend into the deepest depths of our miseries. We seek her for counsel, for in that her "words are subtle paced," they "go right to the heart and brain;" she sees things as they are, and not through the darkened medium of prejudice and passion.

How deep, how strong flows the current of her love, how tender her gentle ministry, how unwearied her self-forgetting devotion. How meekly obedient, how reverent, how sub missive to that will whose rightful sway she religiously acknowledges. Not a bond-woman, not a fettered slave, but a willing subject of him who received his authority from God himself. Bowing gladly to the sceptre that heaven placed in his hands, she hears echoing from the far past a divine voice; rolling along the paths of time, it reaches her ear-it has reached the ear of every daughter of Eve since the day the gates of Eden closed heavily upon their hinges. All women do not recognize the divine in this voice; many have not the wish to heed it; others hear in it only the jarring notes of human discord.

But Isabel knows it to be harmony

She heeds not the angry clamor for woman's rights and perfect equality; she hears the strife of words afar off, but echoes not the tuneless sound. Like some beautiful statue, she stands on a lofty height, pure, pale, immovable, heroically quiet, serenely dignified. Strong, meek, tender woman, beautiful in thy passionless serenity, charming in thy wifely obedience! How does thy "still spirit rebuke the wayward, the fretful, the perverse among women.— How peaceful the home where thy mild presence dwells; how pleas ant the atmosphere where thy keen intellect sports; how bright the spot sunned by thy gentle charities; how happy the children that callTM thee mother; how blessed the husband that leans on thy love for support, for counsel, for sympathy. A "purity chastened, finished"-aspirations heavenward, holy-a love deep, tender, constant-a presence calm, dignified, serene-a being of complete harmony-a pattern woman-a perfect wife!