SCIO is a most lovely island (the Chios of the ancients) in the Grecian Archipelago. Its climate is delightful, its soil fertile, producing the most delicious fruits and fragrant flowers. Its capital, named also Scio, is handsome and well-built, and its vicinity ornamented with the villas and gardens of many wealthy merchants, who once resided here in great splendour and luxury. Alas! how has the scene been changed. They who once enjoyed all the luxuries that wealth could purchase, or this delightful climate furnish-who

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were happy in the bosom of their families, and surrounded with every thing that could render life desirable-have either been cruelly slaughtered, or become wretched slaves or miserable outcasts, wandering without a home or without the means of subsistence. A heart of sensibility must bleed at a recital of the horrors witnessed by this once happy island; horrors, from which it will take many years to recover, and which will remain on record as another lamentable proof of the depravity of man, and of the savage nature of civil war.

So fearful were the inhabitants of Scio of losing the gratifications they enjoyed, and so effeminate had luxury rendered these wealthy islanders, that liberty had no charms for them, and the calls of their fellow-countrymen to join them in the glorious struggle for freedom, were disregarded. Indeed, so ably had they managed to avoid every appearance of disaffection to their masters the Turks, that the Ottoman fleet never molested them, till, on one unfortunate occasion, a tumultuary rabble joined the forces of a Greek leader, who landed with a small body of troops, besieged and took the citadel, and put the Turkish garrison and inhabitants to the sword.

Scarcely was this tragedy completed, when the Ottoman fleet entered the harbour, and the Greek troops, unable to cope with so formidable an armament, fled and left the island to its fate. Although

the principal inhabitants had taken no part in the outrage, they were aware of their danger, and instantly repaired on board the ship of the Capitan Pacha, making the most solemn protestations of their innocence, and of their fidelity to the Porte. They were received with great civility, and their fears quieted by the admiral's expressing himself ready to forget all that had passed, and ordering coffee and other refreshments.

Lulled thus into a fatal security, the Pacha landed his troops, consisting of about six thousand men, without opposition. Immediately the work of death began-no distinction was made-the innocent were confounded with the guilty in one indiscriminate slaughter, and the Turks, when weary with their sanguinary work, would coolly sheath their bloody sabres, sit beneath the shades of the stately trees, take their pipes and coffee, converse with the utmost indifference, or take a nap, and then rise refreshed and renew their horrid employment! No attention was paid to the most earnest protestations of innocence nor supplications for mercy. Neither the silver hairs of age, nor the blooming cheeks of beauty, wrought compassion in the hearts of the barbarous foe. Shrieks of agony and shouts of exultation were mingled in horrid dissonance. On every side were seen trembling fugitives pursued by the ferocious murderers, who stabbed children in the

arms of their mothers, cut down with their remorseless weapons the aged sire and the hapless youth, vainly endeavouring to ward off the blow each from the other-and exulting monsters triumphantly exhibiting the heads of their victims dripping with gore!

Nor when the shades of night, and the weariness of the assassins, gave a short respite to the wretched Sciots, was the scene less appalling. Bloody corpses were scattered over the velvet lawns; among the orange groves, and in the most magnificent apartments, as well as in the lowly cottages; and the plaintive lament of heart-broken relatives over the bodies of the slain, and the shuddering cry of despair uttered by those who knew that inevitable death awaited them at the return of day, were as distressing and heart-sickening as the tumult and agonizing shrieks that accompanied the scene of blood and carnage. Daily was the butchering renewed, whilst any victims remained. Some had the good fortune to escape beyond the barrier of the rocky mountains, or into the boats and vessels that were off their coast. But their fate was little to be envied-without a home, without friends, almost without food, many perished from fatigue and famine, while the survivors, bereft of every thing they held most dear, suffered the miseries of present privation, and the agonies arising from the recollection of what they once

were. Twenty thousand are computed to have perished in this massacre.

When will the happy time arrive, that men, instead of glorying in the destruction of their fellow creatures, shall heartily join in promoting each other's felicity, when there shall be no national antipathies, no religious differences, but all shall unite in the worship of one God, and in kind offices to one another?