After passing two paltry modern gateways, over the inner of which is an ancient architrave and frieze, you perceive some old substructions on the right, but to what edifice they belonged it is difficult to say; they are very far below the level of the temple of Victory without wings, marked D in Stuart’s plan. Of this temple there are now no vestiges whatever, except a few scattered fragments built up in the modern walls, which probably belonged to it. We have evidence that such a temple did exist thereabouts, but not of its exact position, for Stuart mentions it as entirely destroyed in his time, to make room for the grand battery; yet he has marked for it a space more than 30 feet long, and 20 wide, although Wheeler, in whose time it still existed, describes it as a small edifice of about 15 feet by 9, dimensions which hardly admit the supposition of columns between the antæ. Stuart calls this building the temple of Aglauros, but he is undoubtedly wrong. Revett has corrected him in the fourth volume, and you will therefore permit me to call it the temple of Victory without wings, and to consider the room B, as that which was adorned with the paintings of Polygnotus. The use of the terms right and left applied to the object viewed, and not to the spectator, which is the origin of Stuart’s mistake, seems to be derived from heraldry. Beyond these foundations, and after having passed under the great battery, you turn to the right, leaving on the left a tall pier supposed to have supported an equestrian statue. It is formed of courses, alternately thicker and thinner, and bears an inscription in honour of Marcus Agrippa; and though Pausanias seems to have considered it as ancient (at least he speaks of equestrian statues of doubtful purport in this part,) our modern connoisseurs pronounce it to be of Roman times. Similar masonry occurs in the remains supposed to be of the Gymnasium of Ptolemy, but is not found in any of the earlier buildings of the republic. The opposite and corresponding pier is entirely destroyed, or built up, but we may acknowledge that such a one probably existed. Of the flight of steps represented as extending from one to the other, not only there are no traces, but it is I believe demonstrable, that there never were such. The entrance into the Propylæa was formed by an inclined plane, intersecting the advancing courses in front of the building, which are not properly steps, but successive plinths, forming a basement to the edifice. The lowermost of these plinths is of black marble, in front of the two side buildings, but not so under the central part. Under this plinth of black marble, there is in the north wing, a course of white[27] marble, shewing the intention of exposing the upright face; for the corresponding course in the central building, which was not intended to be seen, is of rough limestone. These steps are four in number, instead of three, as given by Revett, and under