the time-honoured walls of Spalatro have been witnesses of those varied
emotions to which the human heart is subject. Thither Glycerius the
prelate retired, when driven by Julius Nepos from the imperial throne.
There, too, in a spirit of true Christian charity, he heaped coals of
fire on the head of his enemy, by affording him a sanctuary when
dethroned in his turn by Orestes, the father of Augustulus. Again, a
little while, and within the same walls, where he had deemed himself
secure, Julius Nepos fell a victim to the assassin's knife, and
subsequently we find the houseless Salonites sheltering themselves
within its subterraneous passages, when driven from their homes by the
fury of the invading Avars. The memory of all these is passed away, but
the stones still remain an undying testimony of a happy king.

Having passed some hours in the town and palace, I adjourned to one of
the few small _cafés_ in the principal street. While sipping my
chocolate, I was accosted by an elderly priest, who most civilly
enquired whether he could help me in any way during my stay at
Spalatro. He proved to be a person of much intelligence, and,
notwithstanding that his knowledge of English extended only to a few
conversational words, he had read Sir Gardner Wilkinson's work on
Dalmatia, and, as his remarks showed, not without profiting thereby. At
4.30 the same afternoon we arrived at Lissa, the military port of
Austria in this part of the Adriatic. It is interesting to English
travellers, its waters having been the scene of a naval action in which
an English squadron, commanded by Captain Hoste, defeated a French
squadron carrying nearly double as many guns. During the great war the
island belonged to England, and indeed a portion of it is called to this
day the Cittá Inglese. It at one time acquired a certain importance in a
mercantile point of view, sardines being the staple article of commerce.