left and said: "That is the Areopagus, or Mars Hill, from which the
Apostle Paul made his appeal to the idolatrous Athenians. He probably
ascended those sixteen steps that you see hewn in the rock. Where we are
standing now, the people stood to listen. From that elevation Paul could
view the avenues leading to the Acropolis, avenues adorned with statues
in honor of gods and goddesses and famous heroes."

[Illustration: IN HONOR OF NIKE, THE GODDESS OF VICTORY.]

As we stood there, we could almost hear Paul's words:

"Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too
superstitious. For as I passed by, and beheld the gods that ye worship,
I found an altar with this inscription, 'To the Unknown God.'--God
dwelleth not in temples made with hands.--We ought not to think that
the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and
man's device." The altar to the unknown god to which Paul referred may
have been one of the many altars within sight of the elevation on which
he stood.

After we left Mars Hill a few minutes' walk brought us to the foot of a
long flight of ruined steps, at the top of which stood broken marble
columns. Before us was the Acropolis, the highest point of the city, a
rocky eminence with inaccessible cliffs on three sides. The only
approach to its summit, which is about two hundred feet above the level
of the modern city, is on the southwest side, being reached by the
avenues we had followed up the gradual slope past Mars Hill.

"On this height," said the guide, "the Athenians, during the reign of
Pericles in the golden age of Greece, erected a temple to their patron
deity, Minerva, the goddess of wisdom. And to this goddess, named also
Athena, who, as they asserted, sprang from the brain of Jupiter a mature
woman in complete armor, they looked for protection. For her they
offered their choicest gifts, yet they did not neglect the multitude of
other gods whom they feared to offend."

The old guide was well informed, but his English was rather difficult to
understand. He was interrupted a number of times until one of the
tourists, a college professor, undertook the task of assisting him in
the story.

"These dilapidated stone steps," said the professor, "formed once the
magnificent marble staircase that led to the gateway of the Acropolis.
The staircase was seventy feet in width; in the centre was a sloping
carriageway up which chariots could be driven. It was built by Peric