Read Ebook: Rambles in Istria Dalmatia and Montenegro by R H R

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But it was not to be; I got as far as Pesth, when the cholera, which was then very active, not to say raging in Hungary, barred my further passage down the river into the Lower Provinces of the Danube, by threatening me with a quarantine of eleven days in a dirty lazzaretto, at a temperature of at least 90? in the shade. I would have risked the cholera, but I could not face the loss of eleven days in the limited time I had at my disposal, nor could I contemplate at all the horrors of an Oriental lazzaretto. All my plans were therefore upset; still the result was eventually satisfactory, as I think I shall be able to prove in the following pages.

After leaving London, I made straight for Vienna, by Brussels and Cologne, where I remained only a few hours, during which I visited for the twentieth time and more that exquisite specimen of ecclesiastical structure, its unrivalled Cathedral; every time I see it I admire it more and more, I think there are none to equal it, while most certainly none surpass it.

It was something more than all this which ever filled me with a feeling of intense devotion when I entered that grand old building. The severe simplicity of the structure, with no tawdry ornamentation to obtrude itself and take off the attention, may have played an important part in giving birth to solemn thoughts, together with the height and size of the three enormous pilasters which alone support the roof--the lofty arches, the vast depth and gloom of the aisles, the intensity of the shade, the deep silence made still more impressive by an occasional foot-fall--all would combine to proclaim this a house of prayer, and nothing else; a Temple in the fullest and most unequivocal sense of the word, offering to the old and the broken-spirited, to the infirm and to all who sought it in prayer, an assurance of tranquillity, consolation, and peace!

I think I see a smile, slightly perhaps savouring of a sneer, from some of my readers of the masculine gender, at my purchase of a large supply of Eau de Cologne; but just let them hold hard, till they shall have endured the trials of hot winds and dusty roads in the daytime, stuffy cabins and the ordinary accompaniment of flea invasions and other entomological attacks in the night-time; and then if they have the luck to have any of it with them, they will discover the use of Eau de Cologne in allaying pain and irritation.

Travellers in all Eastern countries should have with them a supply of good Eau de Cologne, not for scenting their pocket-handkerchiefs only, but principally as a remedy. Some people suffer more, some suffer less from insect attacks; but I have seen a man, a strong, stout, brawny Britisher, set nearly wild by flea-bites, and I shall never forget his appearance, as he stood before me one morning, after passing a restless night in a very wild region in the South of Europe, like a patient with small-pox, and scratching away at himself for bare life. I am sure he would have been in a high fever that night, had I not bathed him with a mixture of equal parts of Eau de Cologne, laurel water, and sal-volatile. So don't forget it, kind reader, if ever in your travels you are likely to be in countries infested with insect tribes; whatever their nature may be, whether the mosquito which flieth, the flea which hoppeth, or t'other thing which crawleth, my nostrum will be found a sovereign remedy against them all.

Although the Vienna Exhibition was fully open, and that numbers were flocking from all parts to that most charming capital, which has so justly acquired the epithet of "le Paradis des Hommes," I was fortunate in having but one companion in the train all the way, and thus we both were enabled to extend our limbs and sleep as comfortably as in our beds. It is wonderful the amount of comfort one can obtain through life by the judicious distribution of a few cigars accompanied by a little silver!

At Vienna, I went--as I always do--to the Archduke Charles' Hotel; a little old-fashioned, perhaps, but unquestionably the best hotel in Vienna, and where the cooking is always undeniable. During my short stay, I went every day to the Universal Exhibition--the world's fair! but don't be afraid that I mean to weary you by dragging you with me through those confusing avenues of "all sorts," where nothing that was wanted could be found, and everything we wanted not was sure to be everlastingly obtruding itself before our eyes.

I confess that the Vienna Exhibition disappointed me; whereas the Paris one of 1867 left me nothing to desire; and all owing to the want of order and system in the one instance--while in the other, the arrangement was so perfect that there was not the smallest difficulty in getting at anything one wanted to find out.

But if the exhibitional department was less perfect in its arrangement at Vienna than at Paris, the gardens and the outside accessories were far more beautiful at the former than the latter; while Strauss's delightful band always afforded an hour's luxurious enjoyment in the cool of the afternoon, till the fearful braying of the steam trumpet, drove one out into the Prater. Then the restaurants and caf?s of the different Nationalities were so well got up and so picturesquely scattered about the Gardens, as were also the several buildings characteristic of the different Nations, and among which was pre-eminent for elegance of form, design, and execution, the kiosk of the Pasha of Egypt.

In the fine arts department there were many beautiful things to be seen; but as I promised not to drag the reader round the World's Fair, I shall keep my word, and shall only call his attention to two statues which greatly attracted me, one was a bronze figure of a Hindoo charming a cobra, the other a Negro running away, both figures perfectly alive!

I went twice to the opera, once to hear Meyerbeer's "Africaine," which disappointed me; and once to see a grand ballet, I think it was called "Eleonora," which did not. I had not been for several years at Vienna, and had, therefore, not seen the new Opera House. I was greatly struck with its size and beauty; it is unquestionably the finest theatre in Europe, and the arrangements are perfect. But Vienna is now undergoing such a process of transformation, and to such an extent, that in a few years those who knew it ten or twelve years ago will be utterly unable to recognise it. Even now it is one of the finest capitals in Europe, but at the rate it is progressing, it bids fair to surpass in a short time every other city, when the Viennese will really be able to give utterance with truth to their old saying, "Gibt nur eine Kaiserstadt, gibt nur ein Wien!"

After a very delightful week in Vienna, which seemed indeed far too short a time to bestow upon the most enjoyable capital in Europe, I took my passage in a steamer to Pesth, starting at six A.M., and arriving at my destination at about the same hour in the evening. The steamer was a very fine one, the accommodation excellent, the cuisine not good, but then I had been terribly spoilt at the Erz-Herzog Karl; probably had I been at a worse hotel, I would not have found so much fault with the cookery on board the steamer. The company on board was worse than the cookery--in all my rambles I don't think I ever met so unprepossessing a lot.

The large steamers that navigate the Danube don't come up to Vienna, but lie off the Island of Lobau, to which passengers are carried in a smaller steamer. The morning I started was drizzling and chilly in the extreme, in marked contrast with the weather of the previous week, which had been intensely hot; and when I sat down on the deck of the little steamer which was to take me down a branch of the Danube to the main steamer, I was glad to avail myself of my top-coat and rugs. In a short time we reached the larger vessel, and, having all got on board, we started at a good round speed.

From Vienna to Gran, the Danube is uninteresting so far as scenery is concerned. Its enormous volume of muddy water, wider than the Thames at Westminster, though still upwards of nine hundred miles from its entrance into the Black Sea, flows through a vast flat country; an interminable front of sallows and alders on the one side, and an interminable plain on the other, dotted all over with countless herds of white cattle with long black horns like the Tuscan oxen, and endless troops of horses; and as I gazed on the mighty flood of turbid waters, the old Italian nursery rhyme came back to my memory.

"Tre Ombroni fanno un Arno, Tre Arni fanno un Tevere, Tre Tevere fanno un P?, E tre P? di Lombardia Fanno un Danubio di Turchia."

We passed by Pressburg where the two sides of the river are united by a bridge of boats. We only remained a short time and I had no opportunity of going ashore, so that I could form but a very inaccurate opinion of the place; it seemed to me from its outward look as not now prosperous, but had quite the appearance of having seen better days.

After a time we came to Komorn, the celebrated fortress; if I had not been told, "There is Komorn," I might almost have passed it without observing it, so protected from sight are its bastions by the immense earthworks in front of them. Still down we steamed, and still the same country right and left met our view, till we came to Gran, the seat of the Prince-Primate of Hungary, perhaps one of the wealthiest prelates in the world, possessing no less an income than ?90,000 per annum.

Here the scenery began to improve; the Cathedral of Gran, though in itself unclassical, and one that in any other place might be passed by unnoticed, yet served to relieve the monotony of the view. The river, which up to this had flowed through boundless plains, became suddenly contracted, and consequently swifter as the high lands approached the edge of it; and now with every revolution of the paddles the scenery improved, till on reaching Vissegrad it became absolutely lovely. Instead of the interminable plains, we now had precipitous mountains on either side, some clad with forest down to the water's edge, some bare, ragged, and rocky, but all lovely, quite equal to the finest parts of the Rhine, not even lacking a Drachenfels in the beautiful ruins of the ancient castellated palace of the Kings of Hungary, the favourite retreat of the learned Matthias Corvinus.

Often during my subsequent travels I thought of that lovely country between Gran and Vissegrad; such exquisite scenery, so diversified; such a combination of rolling pastures, of glorious hills clad with forests, backed by rugged mountains, with that grand old Danube rushing through the midst; such shooting and fishing, all in a compact locality, and only four hours by rail from Vienna; such a spot for a country residence could scarcely be equalled, and certainly not surpassed. If it were within ten hours of London, what a fabulous price it would command! but here no one seems to have placed any value on it since the days of Matthias Corvinus.

After going through this gorge, the Danube spreads itself out again, and the scenery becomes tame and uninteresting, and continues so till one reaches Pesth, where I arrived somewhat later than I expected.

PESTH--HOTEL UNGARIA--BUDA--STORY OF AN ARTIST--PROSPERITY OF THE CITY--NEW BRIDGE OVER THE DANUBE--ST. MARGUERITE'S ISLAND--ANCIENT ROMAN BATH--CONDITION OF HUNGARY--FIELD FOR THE JUNIOR BRANCHES OF THE UPPER TEN THOUSAND--KEEPING UP APPEARANCES--THE TERMINATION OF TURKISH MISRULE--FUTURE OF THE DANUBIAN PRINCIPALITIES.

The windows of my bedroom at the Ungaria opened out on a balcony which gave me a splendid view of the "blue Danube," which, however, I never saw of any other shade but mud colour. Across the river, and just opposite, I could see the ancient city of Buda, with the royal residence in front, and a little to the left, on the top of the hill, the celebrated fortress which played so important a part during the last Hungarian civil war. A little to my right was the grand suspension bridge, guarded at each end by two colossal couchant lions, about which the following improbable anecdote was related to me.

The artist who executed them forgot to put tongues into their mouths, to loll out in proper heraldic fashion, and when the defect was pointed out to him as the lions were uncovered, he took it so to heart that he at once put an end to himself by plunging headlong into the river! Now when "le grand Vatel" committed suicide, because the turbot did not arrive in time for the dinner of the Most Christian King, there was some show of reason in the act, Vatel's credit was in some degree pledged to that dinner; but not one man in ten thousand would have noticed whether these lions had tongues or not.

Pesth seems, like Vienna, to be undergoing a process of rebuilding, and that on a scale of considerable magnificence. I was told that its commerce was daily increasing, and, certainly, to judge from the immense number of vessels moored in the river, the ceaseless passing up and down of immense steamers, the piles of merchandize, and the constant bustle on the quays, a very considerable amount of business must be done there. The grand suspension bridge which spans the Danube being found insufficient for the increasing traffic, a new one is in process of construction, to be built of iron on piers, and not a suspension bridge. It is to cost an immense sum, and will require to be well protected against the action of the ice on the one hand, while on the other it may become the source of considerable danger to the low land in its neighbourhood by arresting the free passage downwards of the ice, if not well looked after. I went to see the works at the central pier, and remained there some time watching the men at the bottom of the immense caisson out of which a donkey engine was incessantly pumping water; outside it, the river was running like a mill race at not less than eight miles an hour, and I was assured that the depth at that spot was fully forty feet.

After visiting the works at the new bridge, I went to St. Marguerite's Island, on which is a park beautifully laid out, and which forms one of the favourite promenades of the pleasure-loving inhabitants of Pesth. As it can only be approached by boat, it is frequented only by pedestrians; but in order to cater for all tastes and gratify those who enjoy a jaunt, there is a tramway running the whole length of the island. There are also some capital restaurants, and several bands play every evening in fine weather.

Crossing over the suspension bridge one gets into the old town of Buda or Ofen, in which are situated the Royal residence, the Government offices, and some of the palaces of the native magnates.

There is a fine street by which one can drive to the upper part of the town, which is considerably above the level of the Danube; but for pedestrians there is an easy, cheap, and quick method of getting to the summit, by means of a small counterpoised railway, which carries one up and down very rapidly at an exceedingly moderate rate. There is a fine view from the top, and several fine old palaces, but the most interesting thing in the town of Buda is the old Roman bath erected over some sulphurous springs, celebrated for the cures they perform. It is in exactly the same condition as in the days of ancient Rome, and consists of a large vaulted apartment lit by a circular opening in the centre of the cupola, and containing a large hexagonal piscina with an ambulatory all round. None bathe there save the lower classes--men, women, and children promiscuously; in the immediate neighbourhood, however, there are some very well appointed baths which are considerably patronized, and bear a high reputation for the cure of skin disease.

When one reflects on the countless acres of the richest land in creation, which to a great extent are still unoccupied and uncultivated in the eastern and south-eastern regions of Europe, one cannot help regretting that some of our surplus population do not try a venture in those countries. I am thinking principally of that most unfortunate and ill-used portion of society belonging to the upper classes, and which, from circumstances beyond its control, is suffering from positive want in its struggles to keep up a respectability as necessary for its existence as the very air it breathes. The labourer, the artisan, the skilled workman are well off at the present time in our country; wages are very high and the friendly societies, to one of which almost every workman belongs, provide for them amply in cases of sickness, and in some cases even contribute something to the family when the illness terminates in death--not to mention the numerous hospitals and asylums, all open to the labouring classes, but which are all virtually closed to those I am now speaking of.

But I will tell who really deserve all our sympathy and all our aid, the junior branches of our upper ten thousand--the families of officers, poor clergymen, poor lawyers, &c., &c., all struggling for dear life against difficulties of every kind; those are the classes who claim the greatest share of our sympathy, and to whom the regions above mentioned offer advantages unequalled any where else.

I hate croaking; still, if one hears rumbling noises underground for any space of time, one is justified in apprehending an earthquake. For several years I have been hearing these subterranean noises, and year after year they have become more and more threatening, and the earthquake must come at last. But as a volcanic eruption, acting as a safety valve, often saves a country from the effects of a physical earthquake, so the timely exodus of an excessive population may save a country from a moral one.

"But, my dear Sir," I think I hear some reader say, "that is Turkey in Europe!" No doubt it is, but the Turks won't be there for ever, their time is nearly run out; the period of their wretched misrule over the Christian populations of Europe is nearly accomplished, and I still hope to live long enough to see those barbarous hordes recrossing the Bosphorus into Asia Minor, on their way back to the Steppes of Khiva and Bokhara, from whence they originally emigrated. They have ever shown themselves irreclaimable barbarians throughout. Look at the present condition of European Turkey, after centuries of Ottoman dominion; contrast it with the nascent state of Roumania, which only quite lately succeeded in shaking off its Moslem chains. Let us look at both countries, as they present themselves opposite to each other on the banks of the Danube. On the left bank of that river we have Giurgevo in Roumania, the port of Bukharest, where, notwithstanding centuries of slavery and misgovernment, the natives, now under the government of an enlightened Christian Prince, are all activity and progress--while on the right bank at Rustchuk, just opposite, in dark contrast to the Christian, who is trying to turn to account all the advantages of his country, the indolent, uncivilized Turk is still lazily dozing away, leaning against his ancient painted and bedizened araba, drawn by a pair of patient oxen, waiting for the chance of some solitary, silent traveller!

A new era is dawning, however, over these south-eastern regions, but much of their prosperity and future happiness may depend on the model they will propose for themselves in their efforts at civilization; whether the brilliant glitter of Parisian veneering and varnish, or the less attractive, but more solid advantages of British institutions. A great future is before the Danubian Principalities, may they use their opportunities with wisdom, and may they prosper!

STEINBR?CK--THE S?MMERING--FIRST VIEW OF THE ADRIATIC--TRIESTE--SHOCKS OF EARTHQUAKE AT BELLUNO--AUSTRIAN IRONCLAD 'LISSA'--CAPTAIN R. BURTON--FLYING VISIT TO SAN CANZIANO--SUBTERRANEAN COURSE OF A MOUNTAIN STREAM--THE KARST--WILD SCENERY--A THUNDER-STORM--CHURCH OF SAN CANZIANO--STUD FARM.

That odious and useless mediaeval institution, the quarantine, having barred my passage into the Lower Provinces of the Danube, I determined to go to Trieste, then proceed by sea to Constantinople, and thence to the Caucasus, but it was written differently in the book of Fate!

The line to Trieste was full of interest; during the first portion of the journey I passed quite close to Lake Balaton, celebrated for its fish, and then after traversing some wonderfully rich plains, dotted here and there with patches of forest, and covered with herds of cattle, horses, and geese, which are kept here in vast numbers for the sake of their feathers, arrived at Steinbr?ck at one P.M., where I dined. Here, at the junction of the Saane and the Saave, the scenery became truly magnificent; we had been for some time following the banks of the Saane, and the mountains had been getting closer and higher with every mile we made, till at last they actually came down to the river, allowing a bare passage to the railway which followed its every bend.

Having finished our mid-day meal at Steinbr?ck--where the Pesth line joins on to that miracle of engineering, the celebrated railway between Vienna and Trieste--we resumed our journey, the scenery retaining its grand features, till having topped the S?mmering, we came on to the desert Karst and got our first peep of the salt water--the glorious Adriatic. Nothing could exceed the wild grandeur of the country on both sides of the railway, as the engines slowly panted up those steep inclines, winding in and out through the gorges of the S?mmering, now plunging into a tunnel to traverse the heart of a mountain, and now crossing a viaduct between two cliffs, over a precipice hundreds of feet in depth. Once at the top, our pace increased considerably, and by eight o'clock I found myself comfortably installed at my hotel at Trieste, on the evening of the 29th of June.

After a most refreshing night, I descended the next morning to the caf? on the ground floor of the hotel, and then heard for the first time of the severe shocks of earthquake at Belluno and its neighbourhood, which had been felt even in Trieste. Several lives had been lost, and one church nearly shaken to the ground.

After breakfast I went to pay my respects to our excellent consul, Captain Burton, and then hearing that the Austrian ironclad "Lissa" was outside the harbour, I took a boat and went to have a look at her. She is a fine vessel with a long projecting prow, and looks well in the water. Having sent up my card, I was received and shown over the ship by Lieutenant Count Petruski, who was most kind in pointing out every thing of interest connected with it. I think he said she mounted 12 rifled fifteen-ton guns of our Woolwich Infant type, and was furnished with a galvanic apparatus, by means of which the captain could fire a whole broadside at a time. Although she was only in after a cruise, and consequently not in the best of trim for exhibition, I was much gratified by all I saw. The men were a very fine set of fellows, the state cabins and officers' cabins particularly neat and nice, and should these lines ever fall beneath the eye of Count Petruski or any of his brother officers on board the "Lissa" I beg them all to receive my warm thanks for their kindness to me that day. I spent a couple of very pleasant hours on board, and as Count Petruski spoke excellent English, it made our interview all the more agreeable.

Having still to wait a couple of days for the departure of the steamer which was to take me on my trip down the coast of Dalmatia, I employed my time in paving a flying visit to San Canziano, where a good-sized river, after meandering down a deep ravine like any other Christian stream, suddenly plunges into the bowels of the earth, and after a mysterious course of many miles, reappears again at the surface under a different name, previous to losing itself in the Adriatic.

The little hamlet of San Canziano is about twenty miles from Trieste, it consists of a very small and meanly built church, with a good campanile however, with two sweetly-toned bells--why is it that ours are always so unmusical and woody?--a small wretched Presbytery, a roadside pot-house where nothing could be got for love or money, and half a dozen dilapidated houses. The drive however, was very pleasant, for the weather was warm and at the same time cloudy, so that we were never inconvenienced by the sun. The road, on leaving Trieste, goes by easy windings over a mountain clothed with oak, so beautifully kept, that it gives the idea of driving through some private park. On reaching the top we came into the open, and had a glorious view of the Styrian mountains on the one side, and the Adriatic on the other. After driving for a short time on the level, we again commenced ascending and soon got into the "Karst," as it is called; a wild barren tract where little or nothing appears to grow, and where rocks and stones seem to have rained down from heaven, not unlike some other spots I visited subsequently in Dalmatia, and notably in Montenegro. But this bleak and barren spot owes its absolute desolation, not so much to the rocky nature of its soil, as to the Bora, a north-east wind, which often sweeps across it with the force of a West Indian hurricane.

In many places on the road, traverses of immensely thick stone walls had been erected for protection against the fury of the wind, but notwithstanding all, the Karst is sometimes impassable when the Bora blows in real earnest, and heavy-laden waggons which have tried to cross it at such times, have been turned over and over like "leaves in Autumn weather." After travelling for some short time along this elevated plateau, we again began to descend, and soon reached our destination, where, having eaten the lunch I had brought with me, I started on foot, under the guidance of a native who could speak nothing but Styrian, to seek the mysterious river.

In less than half an hour's walk, I found myself on a grass-covered plateau of some miles in extent, fringed in the distance by lofty hills, dotted with clumps of fir trees, and after a few minutes more walking in an easterly direction, I suddenly came on a perpendicular precipice, upwards of five hundred feet in depth, which completely barred my further progress. The cliff on which I stood rose in a narrow valley, or glen, or cleft, as if the crust of the earth had cracked here for a few miles. This cleft, nearly of uniform depth, was not of uniform width; in some places it was so narrow that the smooth river which glided through it completely filled it from side to side, while in other places a sufficient strip of soil remained between the river and the cliff to admit of some amount of cultivation, and here and there a cottage.

This strange cleft, or valley, or crack in the plateau through which the river flows is of a most irregular outline, going zig-zag, in and out, just like the cracks one sees in a dried up pond at the end of a hot Summer in England. I was standing where this precipitous crack barred the way, by running exactly at right angles across the path, and here right under me at a depth of about five hundred feet, the river which could be seen coursing from a considerable distance at the bottom of the cleft, suddenly leapt into a cavern and disappeared beneath my feet.

Having made a rapid sketch of this extraordinary landscape--or, more correctly speaking, having tried to convey on paper some faint idea of what the place was like--I again followed the guide, who now, turning his back on the precipice, led me in a westerly direction, and brought me in a few minutes to the brink of a fearful-looking circular chasm, about fifty yards in diameter, with precipitous rocky sides, and from the bottom of which could be heard the distant roar of the river rushing among the rocks. The guide threw some large stones down this yawning gulph, disturbing some thousands of rock-pigeons who build their nests in the nooks and crannies of the rocks, and having timed the fall of one of these stones by listening for its splash in the subterranean river, I noted about seven seconds as the time it took in falling.

I now accompanied the guide through the little hamlet of San Canziano, and still going westward came just beyond the village on another chasm, of oblong form, about six hundred yards one way, and three hundred and fifty yards the other way, while in depth it was no more than about fifty yards. It looked to me as if this opening had been made by the subsidence or falling-in of the roof of some cavern, of which the limestone rock of these mountains, as well in Styria as in Dalmatia is so full. The sides of this depression were not precipitous except in some places, and an easy descent led me to the bottom, across which stretched from side to side a fantastic ridge of rock pierced by a natural arch about the middle, and under which an opening in the rock gave entrance to another cavern, through which anyone desirous of exploring it could without much difficulty, but at the cost of some fatigue and the risk of some falls, descend by a series of about six hundred high and slippery ledges of rock to where again the river makes its appearance after its subterranean course.

As the day was pretty well advanced, and as the weather, which had been cloudy all the morning seemed now to be threatening rain, I thought it wisest not to venture on going further, although the guide had provided himself with candles for the descent. So I scrambled up the sides of the chasm, and was making for the roadside inn where the carriage was waiting for me, when the storm-clouds, which had been gathering thicker and thicker for some time, broke out at last into such a deluge of rain, accompanied by thunder and lightning, that I was glad to take refuge under the archway of the belfry of San Canziano, and from thence into the church itself, the door of which was opened for me by a queer little old dried-up chip of a sexton.

The clouds had all melted away, and the sun shone brilliantly when I left the little roadside tavern of San Canziano to return to Trieste; but, as I wanted to visit a stud-park which the Emperor of Austria keeps in this part of his dominions, we took another route on my return journey. The country we now drove through was prettier than what we had traversed in the morning, and the road passed through some fine oak woods, which constantly prompted one to look out for a mansion, the country appeared so park-like--but in vain.

We returned to Trieste by nine o'clock, coming by the old post-road from Vienna, and passing by that wonderful quarry of limestone slabs, perhaps the largest in the world.

THE "SAN CARLO" AND HER PASSENGERS--A DALMATIAN'S REMARKS ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH IN INDIA--DALMATIAN DIGGERS FROM AUSTRALIA--COAST OF ISTRIA--PIRANO--CATHEDRAL OF PARENZO--ROVIGNO--POLA--THE AMPHITHEATRE--PICTURESQUE SIGHT--GIOVANNI ASTONISHED--MONTENEGRIN COSTUME--ZARA--EXTREME HEAT.

On the 2nd of July I was up betimes. I had taken my place for Zara on board the 'San Carlo,' a small coasting steamer which trades down the Dalmatian side of the Adriatic, going in and out among that archipelago of islands which fringe the coast of Dalmatia from the mouth of the Guarnero to the entrance of the Gulf of Cattaro. It was a small, slow, and dirty little steamer, but it stopped everywhere going on its way, and that was just what I wanted.

Small as the vessel was, we had plenty of passengers, and a strange lot they were. We had two Capuchin monks going to Ragusa, one of them a most interesting man of whom I shall have more to say by and by; his lay brother, a simple, ignorant monk, and no more. We had a tall, handsome Dalmatian from Spalato, returning home to end his days in opulence and comfort after spending twenty years in India, where he had accumulated an independence which in Dalmatia will be considered a large fortune. He spoke English remarkably well. Being struck by his hale and robust looks, I asked him how he had managed to preserve his health so well after residing for twenty years in India. "Many of them," added he, "in unhealthy localities." "Simply by not drinking," he answered. "I don't mean to say that I was a water-drinker--not at all, for I believe that water-drinking is nearly as bad as spirit-drinking, and indeed I think I have observed that those who were 'teatotallers' died even sooner than drunkards. But I never drank anything before breakfast, I drank nothing but good, full-bodied claret, and I never took more than two bottles of it a day, and seldom so much; I smoked, but always in moderation, and I never had a day's illness during those twenty years. India is not a bad climate, it is the reckless habits of Europeans that make it apparently so."

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