Adriatic , and the Mountains of Carniola, Carinthia, fyc. 847 
of an American ship brought with him from that country, and 
which having been planted on this island, thrives remarkably 
well. The bad weather prevented me from taking a more close 
inspection of this shrub. As the wind was favourable, we sail- 
ed very swiftly past the noble coast, and the high towering hills 
which were at a considerable distance inland. The shore is co- 
vered with delightfully scented bushes, whence was continually 
heard the lay of the nightingale. We soon reached Fontana 
and Orsero, two insignificant places. , Here is obtained the beau- 
tiful white limestone, which is quarried in large masses, and sent 
to Venice for building. Near Orsero, the Canal Limo runs far 
into the country. About IS o’clock we reached Rovigno, a 
town of about 12,000 inhabitants, situate on a peninsula of 
land, which has a double haven, and yet is not well secured 
from the wind. The town, for the distance of a stund, is en- 
tirely inclosed with noble olive trees. Here we were compelled 
to steer between numerous crags, covered with shrubs, whilst 
the shore itself consists of sharp rocks, which makes the land- 
ing very dangerous when the waves are high. From hence the 
coast is uniformly flat, and, as there is no village, if you except 
some insignificant dwellings, so the land appears quite unculti- 
vated. The bushes which clothe the hills extend their perfume 
for three or four stund across the sea, and when you approach 
nearer, you are greeted with the melody of Philomel. We soon 
passed Fasana, and saw Peroi some miles into the country. It 
is a village inhabited by an unmingled race of Greeks. We 
then reached Stignano. From Peroi to this last named place 
you sail between the coast and two considerable islands, whose 
verdant shrubs fill the air with balsamic fragrance, whilst the 
inhabitants, praising the bounty of their Creator, make known 
his goodness in melodious songs. Never in my life have I en- 
joyed a more delicious evening than this. The wind was hush- 
ed, the sea quite calm, the sky perfectly clear, the air soft, filled 
with the harmony of birds, and loaded with perfume, the shore 
covered with underwood, growing in the greatest luxuriance, 
along which we slowly glided. A deep silence prevailed, which 
was interrupted only by the splashing of our oars. In short, 
the whole effect was such as might have led us to conclude that 
