It seemed to me at first a lonely, desolate spot in which to bury this young stranger. But on a second visit to the place, I realized that these grand, historic cliffs form one of the most sublime of earthly sepulchres, and guard his memory more securely than would any ordinary cemetery. For hundreds of his countrymen and countrywomen annually pass through this renowned enclosure, and - moved by that instinctive sympathy which anything American awakens in a foreign land - none of them fails to give to him the homage of a gentle word, or the still tenderer tribute of a sigh.

Where The Athenians Died.

Where The Athenians Died.

Not far away from this, within the beautiful gardens of the Villa Landolina, - open to all visitors, - I came upon the tombs of several other foreigners, whose bodies were received here by the owner of the property, and given honorable burial, when prejudice or legal barriers had excluded them from consecrated ground. To one of these, the German poet August von Platen, a handsome shaft and bust have been erected; while a still more impressive monument is the stately pyramid, upon whose marble portal - beside a beautiful figure in relief clasping a wreath-encircled funeral urn - I read the words:

"As a testimony of the Respect in which they hold the Memory of James S. Deblois, Purser of the United States Ship 'Constitution,' who departed this life at Syracuse on the 30th of Nov. 1803, this Monument is erected by his Brother Officers".

Below this, also in relief, is a circular medallion bearing the American Eagle surrounded by stars. More than a century has elapsed since this pathetic tribute of affection was erected here, and all the "Brother Officers," who reared this token of their love, must have by this time also "departed" on that last, inevitable voyage, from which no traveler returns.

Tomb Of The German Poet, A. Von Platen.

Tomb Of The German Poet, A. Von Platen.

But the enduringpyramid still stands here, shaded by waving trees, caressed by clinging vines, and robbed of every trace of gloom by the warm glow of Syracusan sunshine.

Hence, it became for me a sacred moment, when I stood beside this stately monument and saw how, in the home of Damon and of Pythias, Love conquers death and triumphs over time.

There is, however, another source of interest to all Americans in this memorial of James Deblois; for the old ship on which he served as purser was none other than the famous "Constitution," popularly called "Old Ironsides," which made such a glorious record for her country and herself in the War of 1812. It was, indeed, the proposal of the Secretary of the Navy, in 1830, to dismantle and sell this stanch, old hero, that caused an outburst of indignant protest, and led the poet Holmes to pen his famous stanzas, commencing "Ay, tear her tattered ensign down ! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky. Beneath it rang the battle shout, . And burst the cannon's roar; The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more".

Monument To The Purser Of The Constitution.

Monument To The Purser Of The " Constitution".

Old Ironsides

"Old Ironsides".

That this superbly patriotic poem contributed largely to the preservation of the gallant frigate there can be no doubt; and standing by that lonely grave in Syracuse, it was a comfort to remember that the "Constitution" still floats, "in ordinary," in the Boston Navy Yard.

Another relic of old Syracuse, suggesting happier memories than those which haunt the Quarry of the Capuchins, is its superb Greek Theatre. Well suited to the grandeur of the city, this was, with two exceptions, the largest building of its kind in the whole Grecian world; and, as I stood upon its ancient pavement and gazed up at the sweeping curve of its imposing auditorium, I marveled equally at its impressive architecture and its wonderful preservation. The five and twenty centuries which have passed since the first audience gathered in its stately semicircle have altered it so little, that one can still count forty-six of its original sixty tiers of seats, on some of which the names of their distinguished occupants are legible to-day. Cut from the solid limestone of the hillside, they easily accommodated twenty-four thousand people. The lower rows, which were then faced with marble, were reserved for the aristocracy; and had they not been plundered of their precious coat- ing, this porthis point or at that, and trying to realize that we stood upon the very seats once crowded with so many thousands of attentive listeners, and which once echoed to the choicest specimens of Hellenic literature. We pictured also to ourselves the scene which must have been presented here, when thousands of Syracusans crowded every inch of standing room upon these benches, and, in an agony of alternating hope and fear, watched, hour after hour, that momentous conflict in the harbor, in which at last their countrymen were conquerors, and the proud ships and naval power of Athens were destroyed forever. But now these seats, which, as the tide of battle fluctuated to and fro, resounded either to delirious cries of joy, or else to wails and lamentations, wait in pathetic solitude and silence for audiences that will never come; the grass-grown, limestone blocks give echo merely to the traveler's footsteps; and on the stage, where many of the masterpieces of Greek drama were performed, the only actors are the blithe chameleons, which, with their frequent transformations of bright colors and lightning-like rapidity of glance and movement, are playing here their little tragedies and comedies - as interesting doubtless to their world as those of .Ęschylus to ours. To an unseen spectator surveying our small planet's ceaseless pantomimes in animal and human lives, how much real difference between them is discernible?