We now drew nigh the monastery of St. Chrisostomo, and very refreshing was the sight of its walls standing embowered in green trees at the base of bare and rugged mountains. Olive-trees were planted in some of its declivities, and oleanders, which had finished flowering, bordered a small rivulet. Everything around seemed to woo us to repose; the air was fresh and balmy, and from the mountain height we heard from time to time the tinkle of the bells of the sheep and goats browsing down below. Two old monks stood at the door to bid us welcome, and insist upon our dismounting and accepting their hospitality. These appeared to be the only inhabitants of the half-ruined pile. I have since learnt that the number of monks is steadily decreasing in all the monasteries of Cyprus. In the cloister garden were three lofty cypresses, and a fine palm-tree. Masses of ivy were clinging about the branches of the old apple and orange-trees. This garden is at the height of 1300 feet above the sea, backed by a wall of rock fully 2000 feet high. The eye turned with relief from this vast, lofty, and rugged expanse, and the dry parched plain beyond, to the soft green of the shady garden, and its rippling water. The two old men appeared delighted to meet with an inhabitant of the outer world, and earnestly pressed me to remain for some days. My time was too valuable even for lingering in this delightful retreat. Our fare consisted only of vegetables. Cyprian monks would appear to be always fasting—one day they eat turnips and onions, and on the next pumpkins and beans. This fashion is none of the pleasantest in a country where the monasteries are the only houses of entertainment that are always open. As soon as my hosts learnt I was a Bavarian, they informed me that the celebrated Maria of Molino was the foundress of their monastery, and a Bavarian by birth. I think the simple-hearted creatures had a sort of vague idea that she must have been an ancestress of my own. Dinner over, I seated myself in a cool corner, but was at once entreated, with outstretched hands, to take another place, as I was still warm after my journey. This is always the way in the East. If you are tired and heated, you must not drink, you must not sleep, and above all, in Heaven’s name! never sit in a draught, without you want to have fever. The only thing you are permitted to do is to throw a covering over you and wait till you are cool.