appeal. He sat rubbing his leg, which was chafed by the chains, and rebuked the young man for trying to evade the court's demands. He pictured the Fatherland as appearing to him and asking him if he would evade the decree of the court even to save his life. What a lesson to young America on law enforcement! On the morrow he stood at the end of the line of criminals, and, being the last, the hemlock was exhausted when the cup reached him. This also would have saved him, but waving the executioner aside, he handed a boy some coins and bade him run to the nearest apothecary and buy more poison, saying: "Thus does Athens make her citizens pay for their own hemlock!" Here, then, died the rare Socrates, like the philosopher he was.

MODERN AND ANCIENT FRATERNIZE

Down into the interesting classic city we went, visiting the temple of Zeus, standing like a lion with ribs torn asunder; the grove and walks where the immortal Plato, taking the mantle of Socrates, taught and founded the Academy, from which all other academies have been named. We passed the market place where Paul first preached daily before going to Mars Hill. The tower of the winds, the Y. M. C. A., Greek cathedral, American Legation-all were full of interest. We cannot leave without mentioning the national museum and the new stadium. In the former, one sees a forest of beauteous statues and busts of the heroes and makers of Greece. The teeth and the bones of the men who fell at Marathon are all about us. Coins and relics of ages gone by show kindred relationship of Greece to Crete and Egypt. An

cient sarcophagi grimly face us, brought from all parts of Greece and the islands of the sea. Speaking of the sea reminds me of several exquisite torsos and fragments in marble which have recently been salvaged by divers and fishermen from the mud and bottom of shallow seas. Here they are in this museum now, to the wonder of the beholder. One could spend an age in this vast gather-all of antiquity, and every hour would be profitable, but we must go.

Let us visit the new stadium, which is the old one restored in glorious marble. Think of a bowl or athletic stadium seating more than fifty thousand people and built not of concrete, but wonderful Grecian marble! How symmetrical and pleasing to the eye! It is perfect in every detail and modern in its every appointment. When we were there the Boy Scouts of Greece were holding their annual tournament, and the stadium was crowded with these boys from every nook and corner of the nation. I have never seen better drilled and trained Scouts. Surely a better day is dawning when over all the earth the youth of each land is being taught to render chivalrous service and to do a good deed each day without pay or fees! We learned that this stadium and many of the most useful and imposing buildings of Athens were erected by some retired merchant to express his love for his city. Cool, restful shades and cozy nooks adorn Athens. These are built without taxation, but by public-spirited citizens. What similar opportunities await our American millionaires in many of our cities, especially in the South!

Greece is the mother of politics as well as art. Why

not, since their gods were politicians? The political pot boiled on Olympus itself. In these inviting spaces and on the open plazas men are seated all during the day busily engaged in talking politics. In front of shops, seated about small tables, they eat and drink and argue politics. The very spirit of freedom, public opinion, free speech dominates the place. It is the heritage of Marathon and the early heroic days.

Now the time comes for us to say good-by to bewitching Athens. Back through the long walls we go to the harbor at Piræus. Once more aboard our ship, we lift anchor and sail away. We crowd the decks and watch the fading landscape and purple mountains melt into charming magic. Once more we see the Persian ships out-maneuvered and sunk yonder at the island of Salamis to the southwest. Over yonder beyond the mountains lies Marathon, where in 490 B.C. the horde of barbarians was turned back in defeat. Here it was decided that Greece should face the west, and never again should the east dominate Europe.

IV

THREE CITIES-FLIRTING WITH DEATH

O. East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet Till earth and sky stand presently at God's great judgment seat. -Kipling.

A

In

LL night we sailed up the coast of Thessaly toward Salonica. Early next morning we sighted the snowy peaks of Mount Ossa. Such a mass of beautiful heights lifting themselves into the clouds reminded us of the schoolboy phrase "piling Ossa upon Pelion." "Surely that means a heap of hill," said one of our party. Soon old Olympus hove into view-home of all the gods-though some dispute the location and place Olympus far away in another land. The Greeks, however, declare this the original and genuine heavenly home where Zeus thundered and shook the earth. deed, it looks high and terrible, piercing the sky in terraced and serrated etchings-remote, solemn, masterful! Down its grim and majestic sides leap innumerable mountain streams hurrying to convey messages from the lonely heights above. Unmoved through the ages this solitary mount has stood, a faithful sentinel, registering the march of centuries. Revolutions have come and gone; religions have lived and died; Zeus and all his retinue have departed; armies and navies have had their hasty nightmares and now sleep well; even Greece, the mother country, has spread her wings and flown to all lands, breathing her pioneer spirit into all progressive

governments—yet old Olympus, proud though forsaken, rules the surrounding hill-tops and stands undaunted before the triumphs of man. Inspected by scholars, encircled by irreverent airplanes, stripped of his mystic and romantic prowess he is, nevertheless, unashamed in the fierce gaze of this electric age.

ST. PAUL'S FIRST BOOK

Saluting this classic mount in the fading distance, we presently approach the beautiful Bay of Salonica. Within its stately curving harbor flow the gentlest waters we have seen. Surely this was a well-appointed base for the Allies in the ill-fated Gallipoli campaign of 1915. As we come slowly to anchor we look out over the Grecian hills whence St. Paul walked into this city of Thessalonica, as it was then called. Here he established a church, and to it, later on, he addressed his first epistle, which was the earliest of the New Testament writings, antedating even Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

Much red tape was unwound here before we could land. Soldiers with glittering bayonets stood at the wharf and demanded passports, making personal inspection of each passenger ere we were allowed to put foot on the soil of Thessalonica. I remonstrated with an officer and told him we had already been admitted into Greece at Athens and that our passports had been honored, but my protest was wasted on deaf ears. At length, when he had satisfied himself, he explained that they had been warned to watch for some Turkish spies. They had been deceived so often by the Turks that they would take no chances. This is only a part of the legacy of