Overhead the stately columns, majestic still in their ruin--under foot the dreaming city--in the distance the silver sea -- not on the broad earth is there an other picture half so beautiful! As we turned and moved again through the temple, I wished that the illustrious men who had sat in it in the remote ages could visit it again and reveal themselves to our curious eyes--Plato, Aristotle, Demosthenes, Socrates, Phocion, Pythagoras, Euclid, Pindar, Xenophon, Herodotus, Praxiteles and Phidias, Zeuxis the painter.

What a constellation of celebrated names! But more than all, I wished that old Diogenes, groping so patiently with his lantern, searching so zealously for one solitary honest man in all the world, might meander along and stumble on our party.

I ought not to say it, may be, but still I suppose he would have put out his light.
We left the Parthenon to keep its watch over old Athens, as it had kept it for twenty-three hundred years, and went and stood outside the walls of the citadel.

In the distance was the ancient, but still almost perfect Temple of Theseus, and close by, looking to the west, was the Bema, from whence Demosthenes thundered his philippics and fired the wavering patriotism of his countrymen.

To the right was Mars Hill, where the Areopagus sat in ancient times and where St.Paul defined his position, and below was the market-place where he "disputed daily" with the gossip-loving Athenians.