He left Athens on June 25th, 1818, with Mr. Johnson, and passed by Ægina, and through the Cyclades, touching at Delos, to Smyrna, and thence by land to Constantinople. The voyage was “one continued delight;” full of architectural and antiquarian interest, and even fuller of natural beauty, seen under cloudless skies and glorious sunsets. They were now having their first experience of countries under Turkish rule, just at the beginning of Mahmoud’s reign, when lawlessness was at its height, scarcely kept down by his bloody justice, or awed by the suspicions of the coming revolution. It is not uninteresting to gather from the journals the impressions made upon the travellers even then by the Turkish and the Greek characters. The Turks seemed essentially barbarians, not without some excellences (which probably have been deteriorated in late years), such as simplicity and sincerity of religious devotion, dignity, truthfulness, and even generosity of character. They appeared to occupy rather than inhabit the country, allowing its richest regions to fall into desolation, and its commerce (except where the Greeks or English[10] sustained it) to languish and decay. The relics of its former grandeur were transformed for their own purposes, or watched over as antiquities with a jealous and ignorant churlishness;[11] their general insolence and violence were unbridled. At Constantinople Mr. Barry, by attempting a panorama of the city from the Galata tower, grievously offended the Turkish women, who, after abusing him with all their powers of vituperative eloquence, called up the guard to dismiss him summarily, and incited a mob of boys to pursue him with stones, and cries of “Giaour” through the city. Such insults were common then, and had to be borne patiently even by those under ambassadorial protection. The Greeks, on the other hand, wherever, as at Iverli, Scio, and Patmos, they managed to secure self-government by payment of tribute, appear to have shown that activity and intellectual capacity which the modern kingdom of Greece, with all its defects, has since exemplified. They had schools and universities, in spite of the jealousy and ill-will of the Turks, libraries ancient and modern, and even scientific instruments from Paris. It was a matter of regret, but, after ages of slavery, hardly a matter of surprise, that their honesty and truthfulness did not keep pace with their intellectual progress. But there seemed then grounds for hope of improvement in them, and none for their Turkish masters.