sweet spiritual influences every reformed church in the world feels still, though it may not acknowledge! We now crossed the river Bila, into which the Jasenica had debouched, and, ascending the hills to the south-west, presently came in sight of the lately erected Franciscan monastery of Gučiagora—a large white barrack-like pile with a bulbous church tower, situate at the hollow of the hill, at an altitude of 2,300 feet above the sea, according to our reckoning. On a hillock just outside was a curious Christian monument, of evidently considerable antiquity. On one side was a foliated cross of some merit; on the other a Latin cross, showing that it was the work of Roman Catholics, as indeed one would expect from the denomination of the present inhabitants of this neighbourhood. But it belonged to a period when the Illyrian church did not disdain to make use of the national Serbian alphabet, for it presented an inscription, the Cyrillian characters of which the present monks of Gučiagora were unable to decipher. Making our way through the entrance arch of the monastery, much as if we were entering an Oxford College, we found ourselves in a quadrangle with cloisters below. There a monk came up to us, and bidding us follow him upstairs, conducted us to the guest-chamber, where others of the fraternity soon made their appearance, and received us with right monkish hospitality. They were not slow in perceiving, from our hungry plight, that we stood in need of something more substantial than ghostly comfort; and while some hurried off to their manciple with orders to provide us speedily with a solid refection, others revived our drooping spirits for the moment with native Bosnian wine—fresh from the goat—happily succeeded by Turkish coffee. The monks were Minorites, of that order of St. Francis of Assisi whose services in combating Bosnian heresy of old have been already recorded.[195] They were fourteen, all told; and certainly, so far as room was concerned, they had power to add to their numbers, for their church forms only one side of their quadrangle, the other three being intended for occupation; and as there are three storeys, and each side has thirty-nine windows looking into the quadrangle, it may be gathered that the monks are not pinched for room. The church itself, which completed the quadrangle in most appropriately collegiate fashion, was a painful jumble of paint and stucco with wooden pillars, and a few saintly gimcracks. For musical performances it possessed a harmonium, and, like that at Comušina, it was completely devoid of pews.