adding zlib test
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zlib/twain.txt
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zlib/twain.txt
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Most of the Parthenon's imposing columns are still standing, but the roof
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is gone. It was a perfect building two hundred and fifty years ago, when
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a shell dropped into the Venetian magazine stored here, and the explosion
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which followed wrecked and unroofed it. I remember but little about the
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Parthenon, and I have put in one or two facts and figures for the use of
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other people with short memories. Got them from the guide-book.
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As we wandered thoughtfully down the marble-paved length of this stately
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temple, the scene about us was strangely impressive. Here and there, in
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lavish profusion, were gleaming white statues of men and women, propped
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against blocks of marble, some of them armless, some without legs, others
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headless--but all looking mournful in the moonlight, and startlingly
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human! They rose up and confronted the midnight intruder on every side
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--they stared at him with stony eyes from unlooked-for nooks and recesses;
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they peered at him over fragmentary heaps far down the desolate
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corridors; they barred his way in the midst of the broad forum, and
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solemnly pointed with handless arms the way from the sacred fane; and
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through the roofless temple the moon looked down, and banded the floor
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and darkened the scattered fragments and broken statues with the slanting
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shadows of the columns.
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What a world of ruined sculpture was about us! Set up in rows--stacked
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up in piles--scattered broadcast over the wide area of the Acropolis
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--were hundreds of crippled statues of all sizes and of the most exquisite
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workmanship; and vast fragments of marble that once belonged to the
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entablatures, covered with bas-reliefs representing battles and sieges,
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ships of war with three and four tiers of oars, pageants and processions
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--every thing one could think of. History says that the temples of the
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Acropolis were filled with the noblest works of Praxiteles and Phidias,
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and of many a great master in sculpture besides--and surely these elegant
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fragments attest it.
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We walked out into the grass-grown, fragment-strewn court beyond the
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Parthenon. It startled us, every now and then, to see a stony white face
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stare suddenly up at us out of the grass with its dead eyes. The place
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seemed alive with ghosts. I half expected to see the Athenian heroes of
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twenty centuries ago glide out of the shadows and steal into the old
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temple they knew so well and regarded with such boundless pride.
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The full moon was riding high in the cloudless heavens, now. We
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sauntered carelessly and unthinkingly to the edge of the lofty
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battlements of the citadel, and looked down--a vision! And such a
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vision! Athens by moonlight! The prophet that thought the splendors of
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the New Jerusalem were revealed to him, surely saw this instead! It lay
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in the level plain right under our feet--all spread abroad like a
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picture--and we looked down upon it as we might have looked from a
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balloon. We saw no semblance of a street, but every house, every window,
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every clinging vine, every projection was as distinct and sharply marked
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as if the time were noon-day; and yet there was no glare, no glitter,
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nothing harsh or repulsive--the noiseless city was flooded with the
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mellowest light that ever streamed from the moon, and seemed like some
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living creature wrapped in peaceful slumber. On its further side was a
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little temple, whose delicate pillars and ornate front glowed with a rich
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lustre that chained the eye like a spell; and nearer by, the palace of
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the king reared its creamy walls out of the midst of a great garden of
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shrubbery that was flecked all over with a random shower of amber lights
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--a spray of golden sparks that lost their brightness in the glory of the
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moon, and glinted softly upon the sea of dark foliage like the pallid
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stars of the milky-way. Overhead the stately columns, majestic still in
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their ruin--under foot the dreaming city--in the distance the silver sea
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--not on the broad earth is there an other picture half so beautiful!
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As we turned and moved again through the temple, I wished that the
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illustrious men who had sat in it in the remote ages could visit it again
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and reveal themselves to our curious eyes--Plato, Aristotle, Demosthenes,
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Socrates, Phocion, Pythagoras, Euclid, Pindar, Xenophon, Herodotus,
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Praxiteles and Phidias, Zeuxis the painter. What a constellation of
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celebrated names! But more than all, I wished that old Diogenes, groping
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so patiently with his lantern, searching so zealously for one solitary
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honest man in all the world, might meander along and stumble on our
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party. I ought not to say it, may be, but still I suppose he would have
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put out his light.
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We left the Parthenon to keep its watch over old Athens, as it had kept
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it for twenty-three hundred years, and went and stood outside the walls
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of the citadel. In the distance was the ancient, but still almost
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perfect Temple of Theseus, and close by, looking to the west, was the
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Bema, from whence Demosthenes thundered his philippics and fired the
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wavering patriotism of his countrymen. To the right was Mars Hill, where
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the Areopagus sat in ancient times and where St. Paul defined his
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position, and below was the market-place where he "disputed daily" with
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the gossip-loving Athenians. We climbed the stone steps St. Paul
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ascended, and stood in the square-cut place he stood in, and tried to
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recollect the Bible account of the matter--but for certain reasons, I
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could not recall the words. I have found them since:
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"Now while Paul waited for them at Athens, his spirit was stirred in
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him, when he saw the city wholly given up to idolatry. Therefore
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disputed he in the synagogue with the Jews, and with the devout
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persons, and in the market daily with them that met with him.
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* * * * * * * * *
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"And they took him and brought him unto Areopagus, saying, May we
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know what this new doctrine whereof thou speakest is?
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* * * * * * * * *
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"Then Paul stood in the midst of Mars hill, and said, Ye men of
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Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too superstitious; For
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as I passed by and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this
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inscription: To THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom, therefore, ye ignorantly
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worship, him declare I unto you."--Acts, ch. xvii."
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It occurred to us, after a while, that if we wanted to get home before
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daylight betrayed us, we had better be moving. So we hurried away. When
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far on our road, we had a parting view of the Parthenon, with the
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moonlight streaming through its open colonnades and touching its capitals
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with silver. As it looked then, solemn, grand, and beautiful it will
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always remain in our memories.
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As we marched along, we began to get over our fears, and ceased to care
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much about quarantine scouts or any body else. We grew bold and
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reckless; and once, in a sudden burst of courage, I even threw a stone at
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a dog. It was a pleasant reflection, though, that I did not hit him,
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because his master might just possibly have been a policeman. Inspired
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by this happy failure, my valor became utterly uncontrollable, and at
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intervals I absolutely whistled, though on a moderate key. But boldness
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breeds boldness, and shortly I plunged into a Vineyard, in the full light
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of the moon, and captured a gallon of superb grapes, not even minding the
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presence of a peasant who rode by on a mule. Denny and Birch followed my
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example.
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Now I had grapes enough for a dozen, but then Jackson was all swollen up
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with courage, too, and he was obliged to enter a vineyard presently. The
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first bunch he seized brought trouble. A frowsy, bearded brigand sprang
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into the road with a shout, and flourished a musket in the light of the
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moon! We sidled toward the Piraeus--not running you understand, but only
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advancing with celerity. The brigand shouted again, but still we
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advanced. It was getting late, and we had no time to fool away on every
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ass that wanted to drivel Greek platitudes to us. We would just as soon
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have talked with him as not if we had not been in a hurry. Presently
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Denny said, "Those fellows are following us!"
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We turned, and, sure enough, there they were--three fantastic pirates
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armed with guns. We slackened our pace to let them come up, and in the
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meantime I got out my cargo of grapes and dropped them firmly but
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reluctantly into the shadows by the wayside. But I was not afraid. I
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only felt that it was not right to steal grapes. And all the more so
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when the owner was around--and not only around, but with his friends
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around also. The villains came up and searched a bundle Dr. Birch had in
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his hand, and scowled upon him when they found it had nothing in it but
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some holy rocks from Mars Hill, and these were not contraband. They
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evidently suspected him of playing some wretched fraud upon them, and
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seemed half inclined to scalp the party. But finally they dismissed us
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with a warning, couched in excellent Greek, I suppose, and dropped
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tranquilly in our wake. When they had gone three hundred yards they
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stopped, and we went on rejoiced. But behold, another armed rascal came
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out of the shadows and took their place, and followed us two hundred
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yards. Then he delivered us over to another miscreant, who emerged from
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some mysterious place, and he in turn to another! For a mile and a half
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our rear was guarded all the while by armed men. I never traveled in so
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much state before in all my life.
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It was a good while after that before we ventured to steal any more
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grapes, and when we did we stirred up another troublesome brigand, and
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then we ceased all further speculation in that line. I suppose that
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fellow that rode by on the mule posted all the sentinels, from Athens to
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the Piraeus, about us.
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Every field on that long route was watched by an armed sentinel, some of
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whom had fallen asleep, no doubt, but were on hand, nevertheless. This
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shows what sort of a country modern Attica is--a community of
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questionable characters. These men were not there to guard their
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possessions against strangers, but against each other; for strangers
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seldom visit Athens and the Piraeus, and when they do, they go in
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daylight, and can buy all the grapes they want for a trifle. The modern
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inhabitants are confiscators and falsifiers of high repute, if gossip
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speaks truly concerning them, and I freely believe it does.
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Just as the earliest tinges of the dawn flushed the eastern sky and
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turned the pillared Parthenon to a broken harp hung in the pearly
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horizon, we closed our thirteenth mile of weary, round-about marching,
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and emerged upon the sea-shore abreast the ships, with our usual escort
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of fifteen hundred Piraean dogs howling at our heels. We hailed a boat
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that was two or three hundred yards from shore, and discovered
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in a moment that it was a police-boat on the lookout for any
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quarantine-breakers that might chance to be abroad. So we dodged--we
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were used to that by this time--and when the scouts reached the spot we
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had so lately occupied, we were absent. They cruised along the shore,
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but in the wrong direction, and shortly our own boat issued from the
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gloom and took us aboard. They had heard our signal on the ship. We
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rowed noiselessly away, and before the police-boat came in sight again,
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we were safe at home once more.
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Four more of our passengers were anxious to visit Athens, and started
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half an hour after we returned; but they had not been ashore five minutes
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till the police discovered and chased them so hotly that they barely
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escaped to their boat again, and that was all. They pursued the
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enterprise no further.
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We set sail for Constantinople to-day, but some of us little care for
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that. We have seen all there was to see in the old city that had its
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birth sixteen hundred years before Christ was born, and was an old town
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before the foundations of Troy were laid--and saw it in its most
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attractive aspect. Wherefore, why should we worry?
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Two other passengers ran the blockade successfully last night. So we
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learned this morning. They slipped away so quietly that they were not
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missed from the ship for several hours. They had the hardihood to march
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into the Piraeus in the early dusk and hire a carriage. They ran some
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danger of adding two or three months' imprisonment to the other novelties
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of their Holy Land Pleasure Excursion. I admire "cheek."--[Quotation
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from the Pilgrims.]--But they went and came safely, and never walked a
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step.
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CHAPTER XXXIII.
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From Athens all through the islands of the Grecian Archipelago, we saw
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little but forbidding sea-walls and barren hills, sometimes surmounted by
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three or four graceful columns of some ancient temple, lonely and
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deserted--a fitting symbol of the desolation that has come upon all
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Greece in these latter ages. We saw no ploughed fields, very few
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villages, no trees or grass or vegetation of any kind, scarcely, and
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hardly ever an isolated house. Greece is a bleak, unsmiling desert,
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without agriculture, manufactures or commerce, apparently. What supports
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its poverty-stricken people or its Government, is a mystery.
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I suppose that ancient Greece and modern Greece compared, furnish the
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most extravagant contrast to be found in history. George I., an infant
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of eighteen, and a scraggy nest of foreign office holders, sit in the
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places of Themistocles, Pericles, and the illustrious scholars and
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generals of the Golden Age of Greece. The fleets that were the wonder of
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the world when the Parthenon was new, are a beggarly handful of
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fishing-smacks now, and the manly people that performed such miracles of
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valor at Marathon are only a tribe of unconsidered slaves to-day. The
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classic Illyssus has gone dry, and so have all the sources of Grecian
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wealth and greatness. The nation numbers only eight hundred thousand
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souls, and there is poverty and misery and mendacity enough among them
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to furnish forty millions and be liberal about it. Under King Otho the
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revenues of the State were five millions of dollars--raised from a tax
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of one-tenth of all the agricultural products of the land (which tenth
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the farmer had to bring to the royal granaries on pack-mules any
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distance not exceeding six leagues) and from extravagant taxes on trade
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and commerce. Out of that five millions the small tyrant tried to keep
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an army of ten thousand men, pay all the hundreds of useless Grand
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Equerries in Waiting, First Grooms of the Bedchamber, Lord High
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Chancellors of the Exploded Exchequer, and all the other absurdities
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which these puppy-kingdoms indulge in, in imitation of the great
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monarchies; and in addition he set about building a white marble palace
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to cost about five millions itself. The result was, simply: ten into
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five goes no times and none over. All these things could not be done
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with five millions, and Otho fell into trouble.
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The Greek throne, with its unpromising adjuncts of a ragged population of
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ingenious rascals who were out of employment eight months in the year
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because there was little for them to borrow and less to confiscate, and a
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waste of barren hills and weed-grown deserts, went begging for a good
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while. It was offered to one of Victoria's sons, and afterwards to
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various other younger sons of royalty who had no thrones and were out of
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business, but they all had t
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