with regard to the literature and customs of that Oriental people. They have an establishment here--a church and convent of ninety monks, very learned and accomplished men, some of them. They have also a press, and make great efforts for the enlightening of their nation. I find the language (which is twin, the literal and the vulgar) difficult, but not invincible (at least I hope not). I shall go on. I found it necessary to twist my mind ’round some severe study; and this, as being the hardest I could devise here, will be a file for the serpent.” He twisted his mind around the Armenian tongue for upwards of half a year, a long time for Byron; and his memory is still held dear among the Armenian brothers, although, of course, none of those are left now who remember him personally; and there are only a few relics of him to be found here. A poor portrait, not contemporaneous; his desk; his inkstand; his pen; and some of his manuscript Armenian exercises are reverently preserved. An aged monk who came to Venice after Byron’s day showed me, one sunny afternoon, his own apartment, which he said had once been the English poet’s. Although large and comfortable, and scrupulously clean, it is scantily and plainly furnished, and is not very inviting in itself. It has but one window, which is almost directly over the main entrance of the establishment, with an outlook on to the little canal and the open waters beyond. The beautiful old monastery, with its more beautiful old garden, is peaceful and restful; far from the madding crowd, and surrounded by an air of intellect and learning which might tempt one to try to twist one’s mind around something sweet and nourishing for one’s own sake, if not for Byron’s. On the 14th June, 1817, Byron wrote to Murray again, this time from “the banks of the Brenta, a few miles from Venice, where I have colonized for six months to come.” He was again in Venice in 1818 and 1819, and he wrote, “I transport my horse to the Lido bordering the Adriatic (where the fort is), so that I get a gallop of some miles daily along the strip of beach which reaches to Malamocco.” At this period he was occupying the centre of the three Mocenigo Palaces, on the Grand Canal. Moore met Byron in Venice in 1819, and he describes the five or six days they spent together here. He found Byron with whiskers, and fuller both in face and person than when he had seen him last, and leading anything but a reputable life. In Venice portions of _Manfred_, _Childe Harold_, and _Don Juan_ were written.