stones, placed perpendicularly one above another, extends from the top to the bottom of the wall, with little order, but I should rather consider this a sort of reparation than as part of the original structure. The perfection of the masonry must consist in the skilful adaptation of the smaller sides to the interstices of the large, and the firmness of their setting. It is this which, combined with the immensity of the masses employed*, promises to the fortifications of Tiryns, an endurance into unfathomable Time, when the Temples of Greece are dust, and the Mausoleums of Egypt, themselves, entombed in sand.

WRITTEN AT MYCENE.

I SAW a weird procession glide along
The vestibule before the Lion s gate‡;
A man of godlike limb and warrior state,
Who never lookt behind him, led the throng;

* The masses of pudding-stone, which form the foundation of the old Argine Heræum which was destroyed by fire, are, perhaps, still larger. These most interesting remains, discovered a few years ago by Colonel Gordon, deserve all research. The plan of the lower and later temple can be traced with difficulty, but the trouble of an excavation would be well repaid. + πρόπυλα τάδε. Elect. 1391.

This piece of Archaic sculpture is indeed delightfully spirited; I think the Lions could not have had their heads as Clarke describes; they must have been thrown more back, like the Lions rampant in our heraldic bearings. How strange it is that the ruins of Mycenae, extensive and certain as they are, should have been so late an object of interest, that Spon and Wheler should have never heard of them, and Chandler forgot to go and see them.

Next a pale girl, singing sweet sorrow, met
My eyes, who ever pointed to a fleck

Of ingrained crimson on her marble neck;
Her a fierce woman, armed with knife and net,
Close followed, whom a youth pursued with smile,
Once mild, now bitter-mad, himself the while
Pursued by three foul shapes, gory and
Dread family!... I saw another day
The phantom of that youth, sitting alone,
Quiet, thought-bound, a stone upon a stone.

grey:

At the time that we were at Mycenae, the neighbouring village of Kravata had just been sackt and burnt by the palikar chief Griva, and about fifteen families of the inhabitants had, in consequence, taken refuge from the advancing winter, in the so called Treasury of Atreus. The internal effect was doubly improved; the groups round the wall, parted from each other by the poor remains of their poverty, their sacks of maize and straw-beds, showed, by their apparent diminutiveness, the full grandeur of the edifice, the ample range of the circle, the hugeness of the very stones against which they and their chattels were leaning; and when the day was closing in and out of the centre of every cluster, the red flames flared up against the dead-black dome, the size of the materials and of the whole was magnified by the dimness, the masses of stone grew more monstrous as they rose, and one thought, that by the mysterious powers of Darkness alone, this awful cavern could have been called into existence.

CORINTH.

ON LEAVING GREECE.

I STOOD upon that great Acropolis,
The turret-gate of Nature's citadel,
Where once again, from slavery's thick abyss
Strangely delivered, Grecian warriors dwell.
I watcht the bosom of Parnassus swell,
I traced Eleusis, Athens, Salamis,

And that rude fane* below, which lives to tell
Where reigned the City of luxurious bliss.
Within the maze of great Antiquity
My spirit wandered tremblingly along;-
As one who with rapt ears to a wild song
Hearkens some while,-then knows not, whether he
Has comprehended all its melody,

So in that parting hour was it with Greece and me.

* It is very curious that some awkward ill-proportioned ruins should be the only memorials of that Corinth, whose exquisite refinement in all that could charm and embellish life was a proverb with the world, and who extended her existence so far into the later domains of Roman time. It may be that there was some sanctity attacht to this temple, from its very age and ungainliness, which preserved it amid the annihilation of other more sumptuous and polisht edifices.

ON A GROTTO AND WARM SPRING

AT THE HEAD OF THE GULF OF LEPANTO.

Within this grot did Amphitrite,

Willing a beauteous shore to bless, Expose the full unshaded light

Of all her ocean-queenliness.

Into the rock the vital glow

Past out from her translucid form, And thus the springs, that hither flow Are made for ever summer-warm.

Alas! the name of her who wrought
This work, and all her glorious train,
Have faded far from common thought
And never will be there again.

But Thou, who in these tempered waves
Delightest thy dust-fevered brow,—
For Thee the past has no such graves,

Where Poets worshipt, worship Thou.

It seems to be generally supposed in the Western world, that the Book of the Greek Revolution is closed, and that of the Greek Nation begun. Greek affairs are no longer objects of romantic curiosity and peculiar excitement, but are included in the common politics of the South; the notions and theories of the day are unreservedly applied to the social state of this people, and their future destinies fluently prognosticated by taking the national character as it displayed itself in the great days of old, and supposing, that having at last attained the means of free action, it will be developed anew in all its pristine energy. To these calculations it might be well to suggest the inquiry, in what manner the Revolution has affected the establishment of those moral foundations from which all nationality must commence its growth, and whether it is probable that the genius of antient Greece will rise and sprout and bear fruit as of yore, in the very different soil and temperature of the modern world? The Greeks under the Ottoman rule were divided into two populations, the inhabitants of the plain and of the mountains, so distinct in character and habits of life, that a common language was all that made them one people. Of the former, the peasantry, a mixt race of Albanian and Greek, dragged on an existence of utter helotry, living only to live and toil; the upper class, insolent and servile, had no other aim than to wring from the serfs enough at once to satisfy the rapacity of their masters, and to gratify their own sensuality, as inapt to all intellectual purposes as their conquerors, and equally incapable of that energy of action and dignity of repose, which are so wonderfully blent in the Mahommedan character. But the occupants of the mountain-sides, small elevated valleys, and hill-bound plains, were of another order: if a nation only existed in its moral strength and essen