ll, the ruins of its temple,
of which there are, I believe, twenty-three columns still remaining
up-right. It is impossible for the imagination to conceive any landscape
more lovely than the one now before us. The wooded isle,--the ruined
temple, rising above the dense masses of foliage,--Athens and its
Acropolis, just distinguishable in the distance,--Pentelicus and
Hymettus ranging behind it, and, farther to the right, Cape Colonna. The
sky was clear and beautifully blue, and a light breeze wafted us slowly
over the rippling waves. There was not the slightest swell; all was
calm, tranquil, and serene. Then, when the sun sunk behind Morea's
hills, and shed a flood of gorgeous light over the whole landscape, it
produced a picture, the loveliness of which will for ever remain
impressed upon my memory.

[Sidenote: GULF OF SALAMIS.] _Tuesday, 16th._--The gulf, or bay, of
Salamis, into which we were now sailing, is a deep inlet, surrounded by
an amphitheatre of low semicircular hills. Here the army of Xerxes was
posted; and the highest of these knolls is still pointed out as the spot
where stood the golden throne of the Persian monarch, when he looked
upon that battle which so humbled his pride.

"A king sat on the rocky brow
Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis;
And ships, by thousands, lay below,
And men in nations:--all were his.
He counted them at break of day,
And when the sun set, where were they?"

[Sidenote: ATHENS.] Again weighing anchor, in a quarter of an hour we
entered Porto Leone,--the ancient Piraeus; which, though deep enough to
float a seventy-four, is so very narrow at the entrance, that there is
but sufficient space for a vessel to pass, with a few feet on either
side to spare. We regretted the orders were, to be on board at night,
and that we should sail again at daylight. The ambassador landed under a
salute; but I waved this ceremony, and hastened ashore with a party of
officers and youngsters. We walked towards Athens, along the old road,
and struck into the olive grove, very little of which now remains, it
having been destroyed by both Greek and Turk. At length the Acropolis
burst upon our anxious view; and, as we toiled up the hill of the
Areopagus, the Temple of Theseus presented itself. Passing along the
miserable collection of mud and stones, here dignified with the name of
a wall, we entered this renowned city, once the seat of civilization and
the arts, but which, at present,