eater, and to the squires instead of the nobles.

[Illustration: THE WIFE AND CHILDREN OF KOSSUTH--FROM A RECENT
DAGUERREOTYPE.]

The result thus far we all know. The final result perhaps we in America
are to decide.

THE ANCIENT MONUMENTS OF GREECE.

[Illustration: THE ACROPOLIS.]

Every one can understand the regret with which we behold the remains of
ancient grandeur, and the capitals of buried empires. This feeling, so
profound in Jerusalem and Rome, is even more so in Athens,--

"the eye of Greece, mother of arts
And eloquence, native to famous wits,
Or hospitable--"

a city never so large as New-York, but whose inhabitants produced within
the short space of two centuries, reckoning from the battle of Marathon,
as Landor says, a larger number of exquisite models, in war, philosophy,
patriotism, oratory and poetry--in the semi-mechanical arts which
accompany or follow them, sculpture and painting--and in the first of
the mechanical, _architecture_, than the remainder of Europe in six
thousand years.

The monuments of antiquity which still exist in Athens have been
described by Chandler, Clarke, Gell, Stuart, Dodwell, Leake, and other
travellers, the most recent and competent of whom perhaps is Mr. Henry
Cook, of London, author of _Illustrations of a Tour in the Ionian
Islands, Greece, and Constantinople_, who has just made, or rather is
now making for the _Art-Journal_ a series of drawings of those which are
most important, representing them in their present condition. These
drawings by Mr. Cook, so far as they have appeared, we reproduce in the
_International_, making liberal use at the same time of his
descriptions.

Until the sacrilegious hand of the late Lord Elgin despoiled Athens of
"what Goth, and Turk, and Time had spared," the world could still see
enough to render possible a just impression of her old and chaste
magnificence. It is painful to reflect within how comparatively short a
period the chief injuries have been inflicted on such buildings as the
Parthenon, and the temple of Jupiter Olympus, and to remember how recent
is the greater part of the rubbish by which these edifices have been
choked up, mutilated, and concealed. Probably until within a very few
centuries, time had been, simply and alone, the "beautifier of the
dead," "adorner of the ruin," and, but for the vandalism of a few
barbarians, we might have gazed on the remains of former greatness
without an em