The Archbishop himself met us at the head of the last staircase; and, when we had kissed his hand, he led us forward to his reception-room; a vast sombre-looking apartment, richly painted and carved; surrounded on three sides by a divan of purple cloth, and provided with a second and lower sofa, for the convenience of those among the clergy to whom he gave audience. The expression of his countenance was intellectual rather than handsome, and he was singularly graceful in his movements; his flowing beard was beginning to show traces of age; but his clear quick eye and his placid brow almost belied the inference. He seemed eager to obtain political information; and was much interested in the insight which we were enabled to give him of the institutions and manufactures of England. His library was extremely limited, and entirely theological; and his knowledge was evidently rather the result of his shrewd sense and great natural talents than the effect of education. I never regretted more sincerely than on this occasion my ignorance of the Greek language; for the necessity of an interpreter deadens the wit and destroys the interest of a dialogue like that in which we were soon engaged; and many a remark or sentiment, that would pass current in common conversation, becomes mere impertinence and folly, when twice expressed. Nothing could exceed the courtesy of our reception; and even the sweet, weak, milkless tea which was served to us, was kindly meant, as it was supposed to be in the English style; although individually I suffered severely from the mistake. But I was considerably amused by observing that the chibouks of the gentlemen, and the tea of the ladies, were both handed round by the young priests of the Archbishop’s household; who obeyed the clapping of his hands as instantaneously, and much more meekly, than an English footman answers the bell of his mistress. Devoted from their birth to the service of the Church, the Greek Priests are educated in obedience and humility, and have all learnt to obey ere they are placed in a situation to command. Having taken orders, they are in some degree the masters of their actions, from the fact that there are two distinct classes of clergy, and that they are at liberty to make their own selection. The first, called the monastic clergy, cannot marry, but, entirely devoted to the duties of their profession, are eligible to fill its highest dignities; while the second, or worldly clergy, who are fettered by no restriction of the kind, cannot rise beyond the rank of rectors or parish priests. These latter are distinguished by the black handkerchief bound about their caps, which is never worn by the monastic order.