The cathedral church was a most ancient edifice of Byzantine architecture, which had been first a church, and then a mosque, and then a church again.  The honeycombs and stalactite ornaments in the corners, as well as a marble stone in the floor, adorned with geometrical arabesques, showed its services to Islamism.  But the pictures of the Crucifixion, and the figures of the priests, reminded me that I was in a Christian temple.

The Bishop, in pontificalibus, was dressed in a crimson velvet and white satin dress, embroidered in gold, which had cost L300 at Vienna; and as he sat in his chair, with mitre on head, and crosier in hand, looked, with his white bushy beard, an imposing representative of spiritual authority.  Sometimes he softened, and looked bland, as if it would not have been beneath him to grant absolution to an emperor.

A priest was consecrated on the occasion; but the service was so long, (full two hours and a half,) that I was fatigued with the endless bowings and motions, and thought more than once of the benevolent wish of the doctor, to see me preserved from a Greek mass and a Hungarian law-suit; but the singing was good, simple, massive, and antique in colouring.  At the close of the service, thin wax tapers were presented to the congregation, which each of them lighted.  After which they advanced and kissed the Cross and Gospels, which were covered with most minute silver and gold filagree work.

The prolonged service had given me a good appetite; and when I returned to the doctor, he smiled, and said, “I am sure you are ready for your cafe au lait.”

“I confess it was rather langweilig.”

“Take my advice for the future, and steer clear of a Greek mass, or a Hungarian law-suit.”

We now went to take farewell of the Bishop, whom we found, as yesterday, in the kiosk, with a fresh set of fur robes, and looking as superb as ever, with a large and splendid ring on his forefinger.

“If you had not come during a fast,” growled he, with as good-humoured a smile as could be expected from so formidable a personage, “I would have given you a dinner.  The English, I know, fight well at sea; but I do not know if they like salt fish.”

A story is related of this Bishop, that on the occasion of some former traveller rising to depart, he asked, “Are your pistols in good order?” On the traveller answering in the affirmative, the Bishop rejoined, “Well, now you may depart with my blessing!”

Csatsak, although the seat of a Bishop and a Natchalnik, is only a village, and is insignificant when one thinks of the magnificent plain in which it stands.  At every step I made in this country I thought of the noble field which it offers for a system of colonization congenial to the feelings, and subservient to the interests of the present occupants.

We now journeyed to Karanovatz, where we arrived after sunset, and proceeded in the dark up a paved street, till we saw on our left a cafe, with lights gleaming through the windows, and a crowd of people, some inside, some outside, sipping their coffee.  An individual, who announced himself as the captain of Karanovatz, stepped forward, accompanied by others, and conducted me to his house.  Scarcely had I sat down on his divan when two handmaidens entered, one of them bearing a large basin in her hand.