well built. At
the southeast corner of the higher and inner fort, we found a large
block of red granite, quite different from the rough, gray stone of the
building, with its surface square and smooth, and all the four sides
neatly beveled, like the portal stones at the treasury of Atreus. I
found two other similar blocks close by, which were likewise cut smooth
on the surface. The intention of these stones we could not guess, but
they show that some ornament, and some more finished work, must have
once existed in the inner fort. Tho both the main entrances have massive
towers of stone raised on their right, there is a small postern at the
opposite or west side, not more than four feet wide, which has no
defenses whatever, and is a mere hole in the wall.

The whole ruin is covered in summer with thistles, such as English
people can hardly imagine. The needles at the points of the leaves are
fully an inch long, extremely fine and strong, and sharper than any
two-edged sword. No clothes except a leather dress can resist them. They
pierce everywhere with the most stinging pain, and make antiquarian
research in this famous spot a veritable martyrdom, which can only be
supported by a very burning thirst for knowledge, or the sure hope of
future fame. The rough masses of stone are so loose that one's footing
is insecure, and when the traveler loses his balance, and falls among
the thistles, he will wish that he had gone to Jericho instead, or even
fallen among thieves on the way.

It is impossible to approach Mycenae from any side without being struck
with the picturesqueness of the site. If you come down over the
mountains from Corinth, as soon as you reach the head of the valley of
the Inachus, which is the plain of Argos, you turn aside to the left, or
east, into a secluded corner--"a recess of the horse-feeding Argos," as
Homer calls it--and then you find on the edge of the valley, and where
the hills begin to rise one behind the other, the village of Charvati.
When you ascend from this place, you find that the lofty Mount Elias is
separated from the plain by two nearly parallel waves of land, which are
indeed joined at the northern end by a curving saddle, but elsewhere are
divided by deep gorges. The loftier and shorter wave forms the rocky
citadel of Mycenae--the Argion, as it was once called.

I need not attempt a fresh description of the Great Treasury. It is in
no sense a rude building, or one of a helpless and ba