ary appeared to be that hope; and I left Athens with the belief that the Cross might yet replace the Crescent* on the dome of St. Sophia's before another century shall have passed away. My last evening at Athens was come, and I repaired to the ruins of Jupiter's Temple, when the magical glow of a Grecian sunset was bathing those immortal hills in a violet or purple light, that slowly and imperceptibly alternated on height or glen. The majestic columns of the Temple towered into the ambrosial air, pale but flushed with the deep radiance of the sky, that softened down all thought of ruin from the scene, and only left it reverence. Jove's own bright star was visible through the pillared vista of his Temple, and shone upon the ancient sanctuary as if it were its Sheckinah. And even thus, in the Elder World, every star was the type of some deity, who veiled his presence under that bright sign; as every mountain had its Oread, and every stream its Nymph, and every aspect of the Beautiful its angel. The sense of omnipresence that this Pantheism superinduced must have exercised an active influence on the imaginative Greek: every spot of his adored country was holy, or haunted ground; every hill an altar, every cave a sanctuary. When he left his country, the traveller or the exile also left his gods behind him, and became excommunicate by expatriation. It is said that the Grecian mothers, by being constantly in the presence of the perfect forms of painting and sculpture, became possessed by the spirit of the Beautiful, and transmitted to their race that grace and loveliness which seem almost peculiar to the antique. Thus also the Athenian youth, whose infant eyes first opened upon scenes consecrated to heroism, philosophy, and poetry; * "The Crescent was the smybol of the city of Byzantium, and was adopted by the Turks. This device is of very ancient origin, as appears from several medals, and took its rise from an event thus related by a native of Byzantium. Philip, the father of Alexander the Great, meeting with great difficulties in carrying on the siege of this city, set the workmen one dark night to undermine the walls. Luckily for the besieged, a young moon suddenly appearing, discovered the design, which accordingly miscarried; in acknowledgment whereof the Byzantines erected a statue to Diana, and the Crescent became the symbol of their state."-A. P. whose first intelligence was imbued with the sublime teaching of the porch or Grove; who looked hourly upon the plains of Marathon, or the gulph of Salamis-their minds likewise became naturally imbued with the qualities of such a soil, and reproduced from generation to generation the fruits of the last. But I must not linger here; I myself, owing to a severe illness, obtained but a glimpse at Athens, and carried away with me an earnest desire to revisit it. The manifold associations which its scenery has such power to reawaken, its delicious climate, the interesting study that its young empire presents, serve to render a residence here the most desirable of any continental city that I know. It has frequently been deplored that Nauplia, or even the Piræus, was not chosen to be the site of the new city instead of Athens. It is well that regenerated Greece should found her hope and string her energies with the lofty Platonic faith of a glorious, though perhaps a visionary, Past that may be realized in her future: but the city of Pericles is dangerous trial-ground for a Bavarian king, and the Phidian temples somewhat discouraging to modern architecture. Greece may yet attain to wealth, and power, and fame, but never to her ancient fame. At Nauplia, or the Piræus, Greece might become great, and men might wonder at her greatness; but at Athens she is her own most formidable rival. In the shadow of the Acropolis, at the Bema of Demosthenes, among the groves of Academus, what shall modern art, oratory, or phi losophy avail? Nevertheless, it is but the sentiment of the place that is sinned against; modern Athens may soon have a glory of her ownfreedom as perfect, and far more catholic* than of yore, may yet flourish on the Cecropian plains; and a prosperous commerce fill the harbour of the Piræus. This is no longer a mere vision, and its realization will be hailed with pleasure by all those to whom her ancient name and fame are dear. We sailed at sunrise, and reached the isthmus of Corinth about * Athens of Pericles contained 20,000 citizens, and 400,000 slaves! noon: our course lay through the gulph. The scenery of either shore was beautiful; the mountains of Parnassus and Citharon were in view; the islands of Ægina and Salamis were before us, and at length the Citadel of Corinth, whereon scarce a ruin remains to tell of earth's most voluptuous city. We crossed the isthmus by a road of six miles in length, and, re-embarking at Lutraki, ran down the Gulph of Lepanto to Patras. The next evening we past Missolonghi, and stood out into the Adriatic sea. CHAPTER XX. THE IONIAN ISLANDS. Hurrah for the Spirit of England! With a king's command All over the circling sea! BARRY CORNWALL. THE same delightful climate, the same serene, unclouded nights, the fresh, breezy, radiant mornings, and soft, sweet, pensive evenings of the land we had left, followed us over the Adriatic Sea. Long after Missolonghi had past from our view, it haunted our memories as the last scene of interest in glorious Greece. It is now become classic ground, as the death-scene of the Poet who preached, and the Hero who fought for her sacred cause. Byron's remains have been removed to England, but Botzaris sleeps where he fell "dying, as hearts like his should die, In the hot clasp of Victory." There are no words in poetry more pathetic than those which Byron wrote at Missolonghi, on his last birthday, breathing through their melody a spirit of utter sadness so mournfully contrasted with the brilliant and daring genius that inspired them. Even this last sad hope was defeated: "Seek out-less often sought than found— A soldier's grave; for thee the best; He lingered unaccountably at Cephalonia, when he might have fought gloriously with Marco Botzaris; and died of quackery at Missolonghi, when he should have been storming the castle of Lepanto with his Suliotes. Nevertheless "O'er the grave of Childe Harold Greek maiden shall weep, In his own native land his loved relics shall sleep With the bones of the bravest and best: His name shall go down to the latest of time- The islands in the Adriatic are of a far fairer aspect than those of the Archipelago. Their forms are as picturesque, and invested with almost as brilliant a colouring, by their glowing atmosphere. Zante is very arcadian-looking in her hills, and her valleys are richly clothed with vineyards of the delicate, small grape, called "uvæ passolina" by botanists, and currants by cockneys. The chief town of the island is very pretty and primitive-looking, owing to the low, cottage-look of its houses: this humility is begotten of fear, for the frequent earthquakes would render a second story a sword of Damocles, and the luxurious Zacynthians love to banquet at their ease. Within the twenty-four hours preceding our arrival there had been two shocks, which seemed to be considered quite matters of course upon the island. Ithaca is the most Homeric spot existing, except the Plains of Troy its identity has been at length satisfactorily proved, after centuries of suspicion. Leucadia's pale* cliff vindicates its own authenticity. When Sappho's wild heart quenched its love in the waves from whence Love's goddess rose, it appears that many forlorn maidens tried the experiment with no doubt an equally successful result, for the cliff is three hundred feet high. Cephalonia is the largest island belonging to the Septinsular republic. It contains 50,000 inhabitants, notwithstanding its mountainous and picturesque appearance. Agostoli, the capital *From Acuxos, white; as Albion, from albus. |