flowing reaches to the harbour and landing-place where the pleasure galleys were anchored. By this means the river remained fresh until it made its final plunge and joined the ocean.
The city had been raised originally on earth and rock mounds to produce this delicious effect, so that no portion of it could be hidden either from above or from the bay. From the sea it must have looked magnificent, with those countless ranges of steps and those vine-covered walls.
These flat terraces, with their palaces and gardens, ran from hillside to hillside, forming dividing streets, so that the river was spanned by many arched bridges. Wealth and luxury, with refinement surpassing the best days of Greece and Rome, reigned around without one indication of a hovel, or evidence of the labour there must have been to produce these mighty results.
"Who built this city?" inquired Philip, for his companions were silent in their wonderment.
"Ourselves, and this is our pride. While in the flesh we were a nation of workers and servants to each other. We were and still remain a commonwealth of freemen. Some chose to be builders or gardeners, sculptors, painters, authors and musicians, with all the other crafts and sciences that we had brought by ages to perfection. No man, woman nor child could be idle, for the example of work and action was ever before them, and they were carefully trained by masters who were above jealousy and rivalry. No family rose above the other in rank or riches, for we all had what we wanted in life."
"But you had judges and rulers to keep order, I suppose?"
