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Temple of Hercules with the 6 noble Caryatides sup-
porting the portico.

Old ruined arches in the valley below on the right.

The narrow rocky ridge and flights of steps and square
rostrum on the Areopagus or Mars Hill, sacred to the
memories of St. Paul and Demosthenes, Aristides,
Themistocles, etc.

But Athens by moonlight from the bastions! The King's
white palace and shrubberied garden flecked with mellow
gaslights! The sharply defined windows, chimneys, shin-
gles, of almost every single house in Athens, in the splen-
did lustre that was pouring out of the heavens, even
paling the scattering gaslights, Athens spread out right
underneath our feet, 200 ft. below us, and the grand white
ruin of the Parthenon towering over our heads. Athens
by moonlight! When I forget it I shall be dead—not
before.

Upon these notes he built that wonderful
chapter in The Innocents—a prose poem, though
hardly more vivid than these hasty jottings.

We made the trip, undisturbed save by the armed
grape-guards and 17,000,000 dogs that followed us
through Piraeus, and reached the ship at 4:30, this morn-
ing just as the day was dawning. I sat up an hour or two
and saw a very beautiful sunrise, a rich flush that suffused
all the heavens behind the Acropolis like a blush.

At 6:30, after I had gone to bed, Mr. Griswold came
and got my Moorish fez and he and James and Crocker
went ashore, intending to steal away to Athens, but the
guards discovered them before they went 1000 yards and
chased them—they say it was a close race but they won
the boat and escaped to the ship.

Aug. 16. Troy.

We are now—u A.M.—right abreast the plains of Troy

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