No traveller is permitted to pass the Isthmus by land without an order from the pashaw of Tripolizza, which it would require eight days to obtain. We were therefore once more obliged to try the sea, and leaving Corinth on the afternoon of the 15th, we rode to Cenchrea, and after some difficulties with the custom-house officer, stretched ourselves in the boat, and were awakened next morning at four o’clock with the intelligence that we were in the harbour of the Piræus. The custom-house again was the source of some delay, but in the mean time we sent up to the city for horses, and before ten arrived at Athens. LETTER XLVI. ATHENS. _Athens, February, 1818._ I GAVE you in my last an account of our journey from Naples to Athens, and before I plunge into antiquities, I will complete the sketch with the description of our accommodations and manner of life here. Our intention was to have gone to the French convent, but we found the rooms occupied. The padre, for there is but one, recommended us to a lodging belonging to a man called Giacomo, and we slept there one night, but afterwards established ourselves more comfortably in the house of Demetri Zografo, where we hired two rooms for fifteen dollars per month. The largest is about 22 feet long and 12 wide, with a divân at one end, and six low windows, all at the upper part of the room, the object being apparently, that those who are seated on the divân may commodiously look out of window in all directions. These windows have glazed wooden casements, which are only slightly put up during the winter, and meant to be altogether taken away in the summer, and outside shutters, the fastenings of which are apt to give way in a high wind. Above these windows runs a continued shelf all round the room, and higher than this, and over the windows already mentioned, are six other small windows, with panes of coloured glass disposed in an ornamental pattern, and protected on the outside by another casement of horn. These openings are not intended either to give light or air, but merely as ornaments. Every _genteel_ room in Turkey is divided into two parts; one for the company, the _dais_ of our ancestors, and the other for the servants. In general there is a step from one to the other, which does not exist in our apartment, but the distinction is completely marked in the ornaments. The small cornice extends no farther than the more honourable portion, and the arabesque pattern of the ceiling, which is painted on a dark ground, corresponds to this part only. In the lower part of the room is a lamp; it is of glass, in the shape of an inverted sugar loaf, and nearly full of water, a little oil swims over this, and in the oil three corks sustain a floating wick. This is lighted as soon as it is dark, whether I am at home or not, for it is not lighted on my account, but in