Part 8

Near the Piræan gate is still to be seen, in a state of admirable preservation, the ground-plot and entire town of the Pnyx, or place of _parliament_ of the Athenians, as it was appropriated by Solon to the use of the citizens. Nearly the whole of it is an excavation of the rock, and the several parts of it were carved in stone of one solid mass, with the exception only of the semi-circular area, the farthest part of which consists of masonry. "To approach the spot," says Dr. Clarke, "once dignified by the presence of the greatest Grecian orators, to set our feet where they stood, and actually to behold the place where Demosthenes addressed 'the men of Athens,' calling to mind the most memorable examples of his eloquence, is a gratification of an exalted nature. But the feelings excited in viewing the Pnyx, peculiarly affect Englishmen: that holy fire, so much dreaded by the Athenian tyrants, and which this place had such a remarkable tendency to agitate, burns yet in Britain; it is the very soul of her liberties, and it strengthens the security of her laws; giving eloquence to her senate, heroism to her armies, extension to her commerce, and freedom to her people: although annihilated in almost every country of the earth, it lives in England, and its extinction there, like the going out of the sacred flame in the temple of Delphi, would be felt as a national calamity."

Among the loose fragments, dispersed in the Acropolis, has been found a small piece of marble, with an inscription, but in so imperfect a state, that Dr. Clarke considered it only worth notice as a memorial of the place where it was found, and in its allusion to the Prytaneum, which is the only legible part of it.

The Prytaneum, where the written laws of Solon were kept, however, was not in the Acropolis, but in a lower part of the city. The Gymnasium of Ptolemy, which stands near the temple of Theseus, is greatly dilapidated, and, in no small degree, concealed by dwellings[61]. The Erectheum is situated about one hundred and fifty feet to the north of the Parthenon. This structure consisted of two contiguous temples; that of Minerva Polias, with its portico towards the east; and that of Pandrosus towards the west, with its two porticoes standing by the north and south angles, the entrance to the Pandroseum being on the northern side. The Turks made a powder-magazine of one of the vestibules of this building, which contains one of the finest specimens of Ionian architecture now existing; and it has been judiciously remarked of the sculpture, every where displayed in this edifice, that it is difficult to conceive how marble has been wrought to such a depth, and brought to so sharp an edge, the ornaments having all the delicacy of works of metal.

In that portion of the Erectheum which was dedicated to Minerva Polias, the columns of the front porch are standing, but without any part of their entablature. The marble[62] of this ruin is of virgin whiteness; and the workmanship, as the structure is very diminutive in comparison with the specimens of the Parthenon, is a still more exquisite example than that temple, of the polish and edge which were given to all the parts of Grecian architecture. The line of no pencil can excel the delicate accuracy of contour in the swell of the torus, and the ornaments of the base; and the hand, in passing repeatedly over the marble, seeks in vain for the slightest inequality or even roughness on the surface.

A bluish-grey limestone[63] seems to have been used in some of the works; particularly in the exquisite ornaments of the Erectheum, where the frieze of the temple and of its porticoes are not of marble like the rest of the building, but of this sort of slate-limestone. This resembles the limestone employed in the walls of the cella at the temple of Ceres, at Eleusis, and in buildings before the use of marble was known for purposes of architecture: such, for example, is the sort of stone employed in the temple of Apollo at Phigalia, and in other edifices of equal antiquity; it effervesces briskly in acids, and has all the properties of common compact lime, except that it is hard enough to cut glass, and, of course, is susceptible of a fine polish, exhibiting a flat conchoidal fracture, which is somewhat splintery. We could not discover a single fragment of porphyry; which was remarkable, as this substance was almost always used by the ancients in works of great magnificence.

The temple of ANCHESMIAN JUPITER stood upon a commanding eminence. The pagan shrine has been succeeded by a small Christian sanctuary. Of the scene from the top of this steep and craggy rock, Wheler speaks in a style of enthusiasm, rather unfrequent with him:--"I wish I could make you taste the same satisfaction, while I describe the prospect, that I then did, and still do, when I consider it. Here, either a Democritus might sit and laugh at the pomps and vanities of the world, whose glories so soon vanish; or a Heraclitus weep over the manifold misfortunes of it, telling sad stories of the various changes and events of life. This would have been a place to inspire a poet, as the brave actions, performed within his view, have already exercised the pens of great historians. Here, like Virgil, he might have sate, and interwoven beautiful descriptions of the rivers, mountains, woods of olives, and groves of lemons and oranges, with the celebrated harbours on the shores and islands, all lying before him, as on a map, which I was content to do only in contemplation; and with a sea-compass to mark out the most considerable places on paper."

The Odeum of Regilla stands at the foot of the rock of the Acropolis. The remains of this edifice are those which Wheler and all former travellers, excepting Chandler, have described as the theatre of Bacchus[64]. Of the _theatre_ of _Bacchus_, nothing remains except the circular sweep for the seats; as in the earliest ages of dramatic representation, it was universally formed by scooping the sloping side of a rock[65]. The[66] passion of the Athenians for the theatre is not conceivable. Their eyes, their ears, their imagination, their understanding, all shared in the satisfaction: nothing gave them so sensible a pleasure in dramatic performances, either tragic or comic, as the strokes which were aimed at the affairs of the public, whether some chance occasioned the application, or the address of the poets, who knew how to reconcile the most remote subjects with the transactions of the republic. They entered by this means into the interests of the people, took occasion to soothe their passions, authorise their pretensions, justify, and sometimes condemn their conduct, entertain them with agreeable hopes, instruct them in their duty in certain nice conjunctures; in effecting which they often not only acquired the applauses of the spectators, but credit and influence in the public affairs and councils: hence the theatre became so grateful, and so much the concern of the people[67].

The temple, dedicated to Augustus, consists of four Doric pillars of white marble, fluted, and, like those of all the other buildings of this order, without plinths or bases; they still support their architrave with the pontoon, on the top of which is a square piece of marble, seeming to have been placed there as the pedestal to some statue. There seems, also, to be some inscription on it, but by reason of the height, unintelligible. It is impossible to give a plan of the whole; the remains of it affording but little light towards discovering what form it was of.

Of the remains of the Stadium Panathenaicum, the most wonderful of all the works of Herodes Atticus:--"It has been usual to say of this," says Dr. Edward Clarke, "that nothing now remains of its former magnificence. To our eyes, every thing necessary to impress the mind with an accurate idea of the object itself, and of its grandeur, and of the prodigious nature of the work, seemed to exist, as if it had been in its perfect state. The marble covering of the seats, indeed, no longer appears; but the lines are visible of the different ranges; and perhaps a part of the covering itself might be brought to light by a removal of the soil."

This memorial of Attic splendour, and of the renown of a private citizen of Athens, became ultimately his funeral monument; and a very curious discovery may be reserved for future travellers in the majestic sepulchre of Herodes himself, who was here interred with the highest obsequies and most distinguished honours a grateful people could possibly bestow upon the tomb of a benefactor, who spared no expense for them while he was living, and every individual of whom participated in his bounty[68] at his death[69].

Beneath the arch of Hadrian persons are conducted from the old city of Theseus to the new Athens, built by Hadrian. The stones are put together without cement; but the work is adorned with a row of Corinthian pilasters and columns, with bases supporting an upper tier in the same style of architecture. It was erected commemorative of Hadrian's return to Athens. A new city had arisen under his auspices. Magnificent temples, stately shrines, unsullied altars, awaited the benediction of this sacerdotal monarch; and it would, indeed, have been marvellous if the Athenians, naturally prone to adulation, neglected to bestow it on a benefactor so well disposed for its reception. The triumphal arch was of course prepared, and lasting characters thereon inscribed have proclaimed to succeeding ages, that "The Athens of Hadrian eclipsed the city of Theseus[70]."

Besides this arch, there are other remnants of structures erected in honour of Hadrian. Of these are the stupendous pillars which bear his name. In the time of Pausanias, there were one hundred and twenty pillars of Phrygian marble. Of these, sixteen columns of white marble, each six feet in diameter, and sixty feet in height, now remain; all of the Corinthian order, beautifully fluted, and of the most exquisite workmanship. "Certainly," says Wheler, "this was a work alone that may justify the liberality of Hadrian, and the great care he took to adorn the city; for this must needs have been a wonderful portico, both for beauty, use, and grandeur." Pausanias says, that it was enclosed with a cloister, in which were built rooms of the same stone, only the roofs of alabaster, gilded with gold, and the whole excellently adorned with statues and pictures. He founded also a library and a gymnasium.

The Tower or Temple of the Winds[71] is more attractive by its singularity than its beauty. It was the water-clock, the chronometer, and the weather guide of Athens. It was built by Andronicus Cyrrhestes[72]. On the top stood a brazen Triton, contrived so as to turn round with the wind, and with a wand, that he held in his hand, to point to the figure of the wind which blew. The Triton is now wanting; the rest remains entire. It is a small octagon tower; the roof is built pyramidically. On every side is represented the figure of a wind, with proper attributes, characterising the nature of it, in very good _basso rilievo_, and their names written above them in Greek characters. The god Zephyrus is represented as a beautiful young man, gliding gently along with an imperceptible motion, with his bosom full of flowers. They are all drawn with wings, and flying on with more or less rapidity, according to the violence of each wind in those parts. This structure is known to be the same which Vitruvius mentions, but it is entirely unnoticed by Pausanias[73]. Some suppose that it was one of the sacred structures of the ancient city, and that, as a place of religious worship, it answered other purposes than that of merely indicating the direction of the winds, the seasons, and the hours.

As Dr. Clarke drew near to the walls, he beheld the vast Cecropian citadel, crowned with temples, that originated in the veneration, once paid to the memory of the illustrious dead, surrounded by objects, telling the same theme of sepulchral grandeur, and now monuments of departed greatness, mouldering in all the solemnity of ruin. "So paramount is this funereal character in the approach to Athens from the Piræus," says he, "that as we passed the hill of the Museum, which was, in fact, an ancient cemetery of the Athenians, we might have imagined ourselves to be among the tombs of Telmessus, from the number of sepulchres hewn in the rock, and from the antiquity of the workmanship, evidently not of later date than any thing of the kind in Asia Minor. In other respects, the city exhibits nearly the appearance so briefly described by Strabo, eighteen centuries before our coming; and perhaps it wears a more magnificent aspect, owing to the splendid remains of Hadrian's temple of Olympian Jove, which did not exist when Athens was visited by the disciple of Xenacchus."

"The first monument," says La Martine, "which attracts your attention, is the temple of Olympian Jupiter, the magnificent columns of which rise alone upon a deserted naked spot, on the right of what was Athens--a worthy portico of a city in ruins." This temple[74] was pretended by the Athenians to have been originally founded in the time of Deucalion, and to have subsisted nine hundred years; but in the end falling into ruin, it began to be rebuilt by Pisistratus, and having received additions from several hands during the space of seven hundred years, was completely finished by the Emperor Hadrian, and dedicated to Jupiter Olympus, to whose honour the same prince erected a colossal statue of immense value, both on account of the richness of its materials and the beauty of its workmanship. Nothing in all Greece, nor even in the whole world, was equal to the magnificence of this temple. Its area was computed to be four stadia. The inside was embellished with statues by the best hands, placed between each column, which were gifts from all the cities of Greece, that were desirous of paying their court to the Emperor; among whom the Athenians distinguished themselves by the colossus, erected by them in honour of the monarch himself. It is impossible from the remains to collect the plan of the whole building; there being nothing left but ten beautiful Corinthian pillars, with their friezes, architraves, and cornices, two fluted, the remaining eight plain. Close behind the eight, which stand in one rank, is a wall of white marble, the same as the columns, and, at the south end, the two that project, being fluted, and on a different line from the others, seem to have formed the entrance of the temple[75].

The solitary grandeur of these marble ruins[76] is, perhaps, more striking than the appearance presented by any other object at Athens; insomuch that the Turks themselves seem to regard them with an eye of respect and admiration; large parties of them being frequently seen seated on their carpets, in the long shade of the columns. "Rome," says Chandler, "afforded no example of this species of building. It was one of the four marble edifices, which had raised to the pinnacle of renown the architects who planned them; men, it is said, admired in the assembly of the gods for their wisdom and excellence."

Of this temple seventeen columns were standing in 1676; but, a few years before Chandler arrived at Athens, one was thrown down, for the purpose of building a new mosque in the market-place.

Some of the columns still support their architraves, as we have before stated, one of which was found to equal three feet in width, and although of one entire piece of marble, it extended in length twenty-two feet six inches. On the top of the entablature is shown the dwelling of a hermit, who fixed his abode upon this eminence, and dedicated his life entirely to the contemplation of the sublime objects by which his residence was on all sides surrounded.

The beauty of the temple of Theseus[77] is not at all prejudiced by its littleness; but still remains a masterpiece of architecture, not easy to be paralleled, much less exceeded. Much of the history of Theseus is expressed in relievo, on the pronaos of the front and west end, where all the tricks and art of wrestling seem well expressed. There are, also, some in women's habits, to express the war of the Amazons.

This elegant building[78] is supposed to have furnished the model of the Parthenon, which resembles it in the most essential points, though it is nearly of double the size. Indeed, the Theseion impresses the beholder more by its symmetry than its magnitude. It is now converted into a Christian church. "On approaching the temple of Theseus," says La Martine, "though convinced by what I had read of its beauty, I was astonished to find myself quite unmoved; my heart sought to bestir itself; my eye sought to admire; but in vain. I felt what one always feels at the sight of a work without faults,--a negative pleasure,--but as to a real, strong impression, a sense of powerful or involuntary delight, I experienced nothing. This temple is too small; it is a kind of sublime plaything of art. It is not a monument for the gods; nor even for men for ages. I felt but one instant of ecstacy, and that was when, seated at the western angle of the temple, on its last steps, my eye embraced, at one glance, the magnificent harmony of its forms, the majestic elegance of its columns, the empty and more sombre space of its portico; and on its internal frieze, the combats of the Centaurs and the Lapithæ; and above, through the opening of the centre, the blue and resplendent sky, shedding a serene and mystical light on the cornices and the projecting slopes of the bassi-rilievi, which seem to live and to move." All this seems rather extraordinary.

"On your way from Piræum to the city of Athens," says Lord Sandwich, "you pass all along the ruins of Themistocles' wall. The road is in the middle of a beautiful plain, covered with vineyards and olive trees, which, being bounded on one side by mountains, and on the other by the sea, affords a most delightful prospect. Before your entrance into the city, the first monument of antiquity that presents itself to your view, is the temple of Theseus, built by the Athenians, in honour of that hero, soon after the battle of Marathon. This temple was allowed the privilege of being a sanctuary for all fugitives, in memory that Theseus, in his lifetime, protected the distressed. It cannot be too much commended, both on account of the beauty of the materials and regularity of the architecture; besides which, it has the advantage of being in a manner entire, there being nothing wanting to it but a small part of the roof."

In spite of its beauty, what says Monsieur La Martine? "No; the temple of Theseus is not worthy of its fame; it cannot be said to live as a monument. It is not suggestive of what it ought to be. It is beautiful, no doubt; but it is a kind of frigid, dead beauty, of which the artist alone ought to go and shake the shroud, and wipe the dust. As for me, I admired unquestionably; but quitted it without any desire to see it again. The beautiful stones of the columns of the Vatican, the majestic colossal shadows of St. Peters at Rome, never suffered me to leave them without regret, or the hope of return." Can all this be real? or is it merely an affectation?

"During our residence of ten weeks," says Sir John Hobhouse, "there was not, I believe, a day of which we did not devote a part to the contemplation of the noble monuments of Grecian genius, that have outlived the ravages of time, and the outrage of barbarous and antiquarian despoilers. The temple of Theseus, which was within five minutes' walk of our lodgings, is the most perfect ancient edifice in the world. In this fabric, the most enduring stability, and a simplicity of design peculiarly striking, are united with the highest elegance and accuracy of workmanship, the characteristics of the Doric style; whose chaste beauty is not, in the opinion of the first artists, to be equalled by the graces of any of the other orders."

"That the Theseion was originally a tomb," says Dr. Clarke, "like other Grecian temples, is scarcely to be doubted. The building is believed to bear date from the event mentioned by Plutarch, when, after the conquest of Scyros, the son of Miltiades arrived in Athens, bearing the mouldering bones and weapons he had discovered. This occurred during the archonship of Apsepion; so that the Theseion has now braved the attacks of time, of earthquakes, and of barbarians, during a lapse of considerably above two thousand years."

This beautiful Doric temple[79], more resembling in the style of its architecture the temples of Pæstum, than that of Minerva in the Acropolis, and the most entire of any of the structures of ancient Greece, were it not for the damage which the sculpture has sustained, may be considered as still perfect. The ruined state of the metopes and frieze has proved a very fortunate circumstance; for it was owing solely to this that the building escaped the ravages which were going on in the Parthenon. The entire edifice is of Pentelican marble. It stands east and west, the principal front facing the east; and it is that kind of building which was called by ancient architects, as it is expressed in the language of Vitruvius and explained by Stuart, a Peripteros; that is to say, it has a portico of six columns in each front, and on each side a range of eleven columns, exclusive of the columns on the angles. All these columns remain in their original position, excepting two, that separated the portico from the pronaos, which have been demolished. Like all pillars raised according to the most _ancient_ Doric style of buildings, they are without bases or pedestals; standing with inexpressible dignity and simplicity upon the pavement of the covered walk around the cell of the temple. Some of the metopes represent the labours of Hercules; others the exploits of Theseus; and there are some which were never adorned with any sculpture. Above the antæ of the pronaos is a sculptured frieze, the subject of which cannot now be determined; and the battle of the Centaurs and Lapithæ is represented upon a similar frieze of the porticoes. In the tympanum of the pediment, over the eastern front, Stuart observed several holes in the marble, where metal cramps had been fixed for sustaining sculpture in entire relief, as over the eastern entrance to the Parthenon. The action of the atmosphere in this fine climate upon the marble has diffused over the whole edifice, as over the buildings in the Acropolis, a warm ochreous tint, which is peculiar to the ruins of Athens. It bears no resemblance to the black and dingy hue, which is acquired by all works in stone and marble, when they have been exposed to the open air in the more northern countries of Europe, and especially in England. Perhaps to this warm colour, so remarkably characterizing the remains of ancient buildings at Athens, Plutarch alluded in that beautiful passage, cited by Chandler, when he affirmed that the structures of Pericles possessed a peculiar and unparalleled excellence of character. "A certain freshness bloomed upon them," says he, "and preserved their faces uninjured, as if they possessed a never-fading spirit, and had a soul insensible to age."

The monument of THRASYLLUS,--an elegant little fabric,--was erected 318 B.C. It is a structure of Pentelic marble, simple, yet highly finished. Its entire height is twenty-nine feet five inches.