Prof, Cr. W. Bunnell TOM!; IN I UK (KRAMKICUS ( AT H KNS). l-tontispid RAMBLES AND STUDIES G R E E C E. 7 ^fifl^MUrilW^Ml^t tff. BY J. P. MAHAFFV, AUTHOR OF 'PROLEGOMENA TO ANCIENT HISTORY ;' K ANT'S PHILOSOPHY FOR ENGLISH READERS 'SOCIAL LIFE IN GREECE;' ETC. H o n U o n : M A C M I I, L A N A N D C O. 1876 N \ AMICO ED M UNDO WYATT EDGELL OB INSIGNEM INTER C ASTRA ITINERA OTIA NEGOTIA LITERARUM AMOREM S1S05G PREFACE. At the present crisis in the East of Europe, when there seems some hope that a new order of things may be established, and the basis of some better progress attained, it would be unjust to the Greek nation, were this book with its various strictures and complaints to go forth without a clear statement of the other side of the picture. It is very much the fashion of travellers from the great nations to compare the little which the Greeks can do, and have done, with what might have been done with larger resources by other nations ; and hence we have constant criticism, and wholesale detraction, of the new Hellas, its government, and its people. I confess myself not to have been free from this impatience when I travelled in Greece, and that the daily reflection upon what remained un- vi PREFACE. done was but too .apt to obscure the merits of those who have done what they could, and have done a great deal, for the resuscitation of their country. This feeling appears in many parts of the following sketches. But though it be too out- spoken — a fact which I sincerely regret — I have resolved to retract nothing which had been written,, because it will show that what I am now about to say on behalf of the modern Greeks is not the advocacy of a partisan, but the admission forced with difficulty from a somewhat adverse critic. I am no enthusiast about the modern, any more than about the ancient, Greeks, as I have elsewhere plainly shown. But common fairness de- mands that, if we are ready to blame and to advise the Greeks about their internal dissensions in days of peace and quietness, we ought also in days of trouble and agitation — when the rights of neigh- bour nations are being urged by powerful and partial advocates — to stand forth and declare on behalf of the Greeks their greater promise, and their juster claims. It is indeed ridiculous to agitate Europe about the rights of Bulgarians and Servians, when the vastly more intelligent, more peaceable, more PREFACE. vii civilised Greek subjects of the Porte are suffering under equal oppression, and are harassed with even greater injustice. "What have the southern Slavs of Europe to show in comparison with the Greeks ? Consider the trade of Smyrna and of Alexandria, of Syra and of Patras; it is due to the enterprise of the Greeks. Consider the education given free at Athens to all who desire it — the numerous schools, the fine university, the archaeological and clas- sical periodicals which it produces ; and compare all this with Servia ! I will say even more — that through the wildest parts of Greece there is an average of education, and of general intelligence, which is not equalled by many parts of the great kingdoms of western Europe. It is this very intelligence and activity of mind which has often endangered the peaceful develop- ment of Greece, and has tended to falsify the esti- mates of modern Greece among foreign nations. The people find agricultural pursuits not to their taste ; they think with the son of Sirach, ' How can he have wisdom, whose talk is of bullocks V On the contrary, trade and politics have for them, as they had for their ancestors, endless attractions. It follows that the agricultural resources of the viii PREFACE. country are not developed, while the study of poli- tics has been driven too far. Both these defects have been greatly aggravated by the miserably narrow boundaries assigned by European politicians to the Greek kingdom. By refusing to include Thessaly and Epirus within the kingdom, the Turkish frontier has been left so near Athens that any criminal or miscreant can escape over the border — still worse, that bands of bri- gands can reside in Turkey, and carry on their depredations in the neighbourhood of Athens. Nothing has created a stronger and a more lasting prejudice against the Greeks than this matter of brigandage. Yet it is impossible to deny the force of the perpetual and consistent reply of the Greeks, that the Morea, which they are able to control, has been for years perfectly free from all danger, and that the existence of brigandage in northern Greece up to 1870 is simply due to the want of honest co-operation in the Turkish authorities on the frontier. Ever since the appointment of a vigorous governor in Thessaly, even this danger has disappeared. But as the duration of such security depends altogether on the strange acci- dent of the Porte appointing an efficient and PREFACE. ix honest officer, it seems quite plain that the fron- tier should be rectified, and that the Greek- speaking islands, and provinces of Thessaly and Epirus should be added to the kingdom of Greece. The main body of the population will readily join the Greeks, and the small minority of Turks will continue unmolested in the enjoyment of a greater liberty. This is proved by the case of Eubcea, where some 10,000 Turks are to the present day living in peace and contentment under Greek government. The latter fact, which seems hardly known, speaks volumes for the justice and the liber- ality of the Greeks, and shows how different is the rule of Greek over Turk from that of Turk over Greek. Whether the Servians, who have been lately persecuting the Jews, would show similar forbearance, is more than doubtful. f I But it is difficult to speak with patience of the 'A. claims of the turbulent and mischievous Servians, in comparison with the Greeksj Yet, when all men are talking of the expulsion of the Ottoman government from Constantinople, and the estab- lishment of a great Slavonic confederation in its European provinces, it is monstrous that the ob- vious claims of the Greeks to hold Constantinople, PREFACE. and the islands of the Levant, should be over- looked. Such a settlement of the European ques- tion is perhaps far too good to be hoped for; but the advantages to the world are so manifest that we cannot refrain from indulging in the prospect. While the insurgent provinces would resume their pristine insignificance under some sort of parlia- mentary, and therefore unsuitable and mischievous government, the Greek empire would become, like the Athenian hegemony of old, a great stretch of coasts and islands round the Levant, and now too, as it formerly was, attexta barbarice — a fringe round barbarism. Thus an intelligent and neu- tral power would hold the Bosphorus, and save Europe from the impotence of its present, or the ambition of its expectant, masters. But if the newer Hellas is to revive the memo- ries and the bounds of the Athens of Pericles, and again be a civilising border on barbarism, it must,, I feel sure, imitate the Athens of Pericles in ano- ther respect, and become Aoy^ \x\v ^rumoKparia, ioyi* Si virb rov ttqwtov avSpbg Svvaarua. The admiration for constitutional government is so excessive in modern Europe, that any one who says a word in favour of limited freedom is likely to be insulted PREFACE. xi by his best friends\ But in spite of this danger, I will insist upon it, that hardly any nations of the world are fit for parliamentary government, especially as that sort of government means go- vernment by party 7\ The case of Ireland is con- stantly before me ; and I speak the opinion of most men whom one knows as experienced in Irish poli- tics, and who are not themselves trading on party, when I maintain that a Governor-General, with large powers, and a fixed tenure of office, would rule the country vastly better than the ever-chang- ing Chief Secretaries, and the ever ignorant or impatient House of Commons. I believe the Greeks to be in a somewhat similar stage of political development ; and therefore the best form of rule for them would be an intelligent and disinterested Dictator — an a\av\xvy]Tr\c, like old Pittacus — chosen, as the king was, by themselves, but entrusted with the interests of the country for a considerable number of years. If this be impos- sible — not only because of the bugbear of des- potism, but because they already possess a king too constitutional to undertake such a position — then let the Greeks determine to appoint their Ministry, not upon the precarious basis of a party xii PREFACE. majority, but for a fixed term, say five years, so that Greek ministers maybe relieved from the per- petual anxiety about their majority, and consider exclusively the serious interests of their country. Such a law would obviate the second great op- probrium under which they lie among foreigners — the perpetual changes of ministry, and the per- petual combinations of bitter opponents to over- throw the party for the moment in power. This is, no doubt, a serious reproach to the Greeks, -an almost necessary impotence in their policy, and apparently the strongest illustration of that old national feature — jealousy — with which they. are universally credited. It is idle to deny that this is a prominent feature in the Greek character, and that it has constantly brought them into disagreeable contact with foreigners nationally; so that, while travellers uniformly attest the hospitality and kindliness of the individual Greeks whom they meet, they constantly make reflections upon the general jealousy which the nation displays towards foreign interference. Well-known examples of this are the matter of the Laurium mines, and the late discussions about the German excavations at Olympia. The former question is very compli- PREFACE. xiii cated, and there is a good deal of conflicting evi- dence ; as to the latter, it has been fairly and ably- handled in the June number (1876) of the Greek Athen(Bum> in reply to some remarks of Professor S. Colvin in the Academy. The writer shows that the government ceded to the Germans the right of withholding their discoveries for five years, in order to secure the first publication of them, and that notices in the Greek papers were even prohibited. It is not therefore unnatural that many Greeks should grumble, seeing that part of the expense of excavating was borne by the Greek government, and that all discoveries made by Greeks are forthwith publicly exhibited. But, apart from these special controversies, it is obvious that the Greeks are in a very difficult and delicate position as to their antiquities, and that any natural jealousy must necessarily be brought out strongly by the force of circumstances. Let me again cite the parallel case of the Irish. Here is a nation, once impoverished and oppressed by unjust laws and restrictions, so that now, when these obstacles are removed, they find themselves behind-hand in comparison with the Scotch and English, and have neither the capital nor the xiv PREFACE. energetic habits necessary for developing the re- sources of their country. Yet, though the natural riches of the country are buried in the earth, and though there is no immediate prospect of recover- ing them, there is a sort of vague pride in them — a sentimental feeling that they are national pro- perty, which would have been utilised but for foreign tyranny; and, accordingly, when English capitalists come over, and propose to invest their money in Irish enterprise — be it fisheries, or mines, or agriculture — the jealousy of the natives has been known to overcome their common sense : they damage machinery, they write a threatening letter, they even sometimes use personal violence, and so a few malcontents frighten away the very capital of which we are ever regretting the ab- sence. All this is very sad ; but it is natural, and is to be cured, not by scolding, but by education. The case of the Greeks is even more natural, and therefore more excusable. The greatest wealth of the country, and that which gives it an inestimable value in the eyes of all Europe, is its rich store of art remains, which are not the natural product of the soil, but the handiwork of people whom the modern Greeks regard as their direct PREFACE, xv .ancestors. It cannot be expected that they should avoid being jealous of foreigners carrying away these treasures, and adorning with them the museums of foreign capitals. Most of them are, indeed, as yet undiscovered or unrestored, and strangers are quite willing to spend their own money in excavating sites which the Greeks have no means to explore. But even in this case, it is not fair to call the Greeks jealous and selfish, when they object or refuse, and insist on wait- ing for the day when they can recover them for themselves, and preserve them as imperishable treasures for their country. For while the agri- cultural capitalist must enrich the country which he improves, the archaeological capitalist, if not bound under the strictest conditions, does nothing of the sort, and may even strip the country of all its wealth. It is then fairly to be expected that the Greeks should be jealous of foreign inter- ference in this matter; nor do I think that their present want of means is at all a fair argument to use in silencing their objections. As to the agricultural development of Greece, there is no doubt that the Morea is in some parts really well cultivated; the plain of Argos, for xvi PREFACE. example, looks as rich and fair in early summer as a scene in Kent or Surrey. But in northern Greece such great tracts as the plains of Thebes and Orchomenus, and the valley of Marathon, present a very different aspect, partly on account of the recent presence of bandits, but partly for want of adequate population. Here, if anywhere, the Greeks should master their jealousy, and in- vite settlements, either of their own oppressed brethren in Turkey, or from other nations, that these waste plains should again be peopled, and the land bring forth her increase. The tide of emigration has flowed westward too long, and the day will come when the original homes of population must be re-peopled by their long- estranged offspring. Of these, Greece and Asia Minor are the nearest and the fairest. The advance of science may yet explain to us the curious variations in fertility, not only of pro- duce, but of population, which we find in the same country at different epochs. The most as- tonishing cases, such as that of Upper Asia, may arise from great changes of climate. But there are other countries, such as Italy and Greece, where the change of climate seems not very great, PREFA CE. xvii and where, most certainly, the population became sterile too suddenly to admit of such an explana- tion. The Italy of Polybius is an astonishing picture to the traveller in the Italy of the present day, though, many centuries, and even changes of race, have since intervened. But the Greece of Strabo and of Pausanias was already depopu- lated, at a time when no great change of climate could have occurred, and though this may depend upon still subsisting natural obstacles, yet they may also have long since vanished away. These are not inquiries for historians, but for naturalists, in the widest and most scientific sense. So many splendid and thorough works have been written about modern Greece, and its anti- quities, that it seems difficult to justify the publi- cation of so small and insignificant a book as this, upon so great a subject. I can only urge the curious fact, that the constant repetition of the same thing in a new form seems necessary to stimulate public interest, which will not be kept alive by old books, however perfect, and how- ever superior to their imitations. It is to me a cherished object to make English-speaking people intimate with the life of the old Greeks, and that b xviii PREFACE. object will be promoted if this little book persuades even a few to study the monuments in Greece for themselves, or, at least, to turn to the splendid literature on the subject. I must again apologise to all sensitive modern Greeks, if I have ventured to advise them about their mistakes. It is far too fashionable among us to insist upon the weak points of that struggling kingdom ; nor does it receive even scant justice from the English newspaper press. The only really just picture of the nation which I have seen in mo- dern books is that of Mr. Tuckerman in his ' Greeks of To-day.' But this is an American, not an Eng- lish, estimate. I hope my readers will correct any bad impression produced in the following pages, by consulting his instructive and interesting volume. The present crisis in the East will, in my opinion, have an unfortunate result, unless the boundaries of Greece are enlarged, and a greater scope for development provided for that intelli- gent and enterprising people. If their chief na- tional fault be jealousy, let me repeat that this is always the vice of limited communities, and that there is no better way of curing people's jealousies than by enlarging their resources and their interests. PREFACE. xix I have to thank my old pupil, Mr. R. J. Polden, for many valuable corrections of the proof sheets and Mr. A. S. Murray for information about the lion of Chaeronea. My obligations to books are too many to be enumerated. The illustrations were to some extent an after- thought, but will help to explain some of my criti- cisms on Greek art. Those representing the older and ruder stages (pp. 61-6) are of peculiar interest, and some of them not easily accessible to the stu- dent elsewhere. They will give him a clearer insight into the extraordinary advance of Pheidias, and his School, over their predecessors. The Attic tombs are not long discovered, and will be new to most of my readers. They are unfortunately much stained and defaced, and must be appre- ciated, as here given, rather for their feeling than for their execution. All the illustrations are taken from photographs obtained at Athens from Mr. Constantine, the obliging proprietor of the New York hotel, which I recommend to travellers. Sutton, October 25th, 1876, CONTENTS, . 24 . 50 . 80 . 106 CHAP. I. INTRODUCTION— FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF THE COAST, II. GENERAL IMPRESSIONS OF ATHENS AND ATTICA, . IIT. ATHENS — THE MUSEUMS— THE TOMBS, .... IV. THE ACROPOLIS OF ATHENS, V. EXCURSIONS IN ATTICA — PHALERUM — LAURIUM, . VI. EXCURSIONS IN ATTICA— SUNIUM — MARATHON— ELEUSIS, I32 VII. FROM ATHENS TO THEBES — THE PASSES OF MOUNT CITH^ERON, ELEUTHER^E, PLAT/EA, 1 57 VIII. THE PLAIN OF ORCHOMENUS, LEBADEA, CH^RONEA, . . 1 86 IX. ARACHOVA— DELPHI— THE BAY OF CIRRHA, 210 X. CORINTH, MYCENAE, TIRYNS, .235 XI. ARGOS, NAUPLIA, AND COAST OF ARGOLIS, 263 XII. GREEK MUSIC AND PAINTING 282 ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE. I. Tomb in the Cerameicus {Athens), .... Frontispiece. n. The Temple of Theseus {Athens), 31 III. The Marathonian Theseus, 61 IV. The Stele of Aristion [Athens), 63 V. Archaistic Artemis [Naples), 64 VI. Archaistic Apollo (Naples), 65 vn. Tomb in the Cerameicus (Athens), 69 viil. The Parthenon ( West Front), 82 IX. The Parthenon, a Block from the Cella Frieze, 93 X. The Temple of Poseidon at Corinth, 239 CORRIGENDA. Page ii, line 14, for won read even. „ 102, ,, 11, for Petrarchus read IUTpa\ot. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION — FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF THE COAST. A voyage to Greece does not at first sight seem a great undertaking. We all go to and fro to Italy as we used to go to France. A trip to Rome, or even to Naples, is now an Easter holiday affair. And is not Greece very close to Italy on the map ? "What signifies the narrow sea that divides them ? This is what a man might say who only considered geography, and did not regard the teaching of history. For the student of history cannot look upon these two peninsulas without being struck with the fact that they are, historically speaking, turned back to back ; that while the face of Italy is turned westward, and looks towards France and Spain, and across to us, the face of Greece looks eastward, towards Asia Minor and towards Egypt. Every great city in Italy, except Venice, approaches or borders the Western Sea — Genoa, Pisa, Florence, Rome, Naples. All the older history of Rome, its development, its glories, lie on the west of the Appenines. When you cross them you come to what is called the back B 2 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. of Italy ; and you feel in that dull country, and that straight coast line, you are separated from the beauty and charm of real Italy. Contrariwise, in Greece, the whole weight and dignity of its history gravitate towards the eastern coast. All its great cities — Athens, Thebes, Corinth, Argos, Sparta — are on that side. Their nearest neighbours were the coast cities of Asia Minor and of the Cyclades, but the western coasts were to them harbourless and strange. If you pass Cape Malea, they said, then forget your home. So it happens that the coasts of Italy and Greece, which look so near, are out-lying and out-of-the- way parts of the countries to which they belong ; and if you want to go straight from real Italy to real Greece, the longest way is that from Brindisi to Corfu, for you must still journey from Naples to Brindisi, and from Corfu to Athens. The shortest way is to take ship at Naples, and to be carried round Italy and round Greece from the centres of culture on the west of Italy to the centres of culture (such as they are) on the east of Greece. But this is no trifling passage. When the ship has left the coasts of Calabria, and steers into the open sea, you feel that you have at last left the west of Europe, and are setting sail for the Eastern Seas. And I may anticipate for a moment here, and say that even now the face of Athens is turned, as of old, to the East. Her trade and her communications are through the Levant. Her intercourse is with Con- i.] FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 3 stantinople and Smyrna, and Syra, and Alexandria, to which a man may sail almost any day in the week. You can only sail to Italy — I had almost said to Europe — on Saturdays, and upon an occasional Thursday. This curious parallel between ancient and modern geographical attitudes in Greece is, no doubt, greatly due to the now by-gone Turkish rule. In addition to other contrasts, Mohammedan rule and Eastern jealousy — long unknown in Western Europe — first jarred upon the traveller when he touched the coasts of Greece ; and this dependency was once really part of a great Asiatic Empire, where all the interests and communications gravitated eastward, and away from the Christian and better civilized West. The revo- lution which expelled the Turks was unable to root out the ideas which their subjects had learned ; and so, in spite of Greek hatred of the Turk, his influ- ence still lives through Greece in a thousand ways. For many hours after the coasts of Calabria had faded into the night, and even after the snowy dome of Etna was lost to view, our ship sailed through the open sea, with no land in sight ; but we were told that early in the morning, at the very break of dawn, the coasts of Greece would be visible. So, while others slept, I started up at half-past three in the morning, eager to get the earliest possible sight of the land which still occupies so large a place in our thoughts. It was a soft grey morning ; the sky was covered with light broken clouds, and the deck B 2 4 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. was wet with a passing shower, of which the last drops were still flying in the air ; and before us, some ten miles away, the coasts and promontories of the Peloponnesus were reaching southward into the quiet sea. These long serrated ridges did not look lofty, in spite of their snow-clad peaks, nor did they look inhospitable, in spite of their rough outline, but were all toned in harmonious colour — a deep purple blue, with here and there, on the far Ar- cadian peaks, and on the ridge of Mount Taygetus, patches of pure snow. In contrast to the large sweeps of the Italian coast, its open seas, its long waves of mountain, all was here broken, and rugged, and varied. The sea was studded with rocky islands, and the land indented with deep, narrow bays. I can never forget the strong and peculiar impression of that first sight of Greece ; nor can I cease to won- der at the strange likeness which rose in my mind, and which made me think of the bays and rocky coasts of the west and south-west of Ireland. There was the same cloudy, showery sky, which is so com- mon there ; there was the same serrated outline of hills, the same richness in promontories, and rocky islands, and land-locked bays. Nowhere have I seen a like purple colour, except in the wilds of Kerry and Connemara; and though the general height of the Greek mountains, as the snow in May testified, was far greater than that of the Irish hills, yet on that morning, and in that light, they looked low and homely, not displaying their grandeur, or I.] FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 5 commanding awe and wonder, but rather attracting the sight by their wonderful grace, and by their va- riety and richness of outline and colour. I stood there, I know not how long — for I was alone, and could stand without guide or map — telling myself the name of each mountain and promontory, and so filling out the idle names and outlines of many books with the fresh reality itself. There was the west coast of Elis, as far north as the eye could reach, the least interesting part of the view, as it was of the history, of Greece ; then the richer and more varied outline of Messene, with its bay, thrice famous at great intervals, and then for long ages feeding idly on that fame ; Pylos, Sphacteria, Navarino — each of them a foremost name in Hellenic history. Above the bay could be seen those rich slopes which the Spartans coveted of old, and which, as I saw them, were covered with golden corn. The three headlands which give to the Peloponnesus its plane-leaf form, as Strabo observed, 1 were as yet lying parallel before us, and their outline confused ; but the great crowd of heights and intersecting chains, which told at once the Alpine character of the peninsula, called to mind the other remark of the geographer, who calls it the Acropolis of Greece. The words of old Herodotus, too, rise in the mind with new reality, when he talks of the poor and stony soil of the country as a ' rugged nurse of liberty. 1 VIII. C. 2. tffTi TOivvv ■/] U.e\oir6vvr)(Tos ioiKvla <£vAA-9> irKaTavov rb ■crxvv-a. 6 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. For the nearer the ship approaches, the more this feature comes out ; increased, no doubt, greatly in our time by depopulation and general decay,, when many arable tracts are lying desolate, but still at all times necessary, when a large pro- portion of the country consists of rocky peaks and precipices, where a goat may graze, but where the eagle builds secure from the hand of man. The coast, once teeming with traffic, is now lonely and deserted. A single sail in the large gulf of Koron, and a few miserable huts, discernible with a tele- scope, only added to the feeling of solitude. It was, indeed, ' Greece, but living Greece no more/ Even the pirates, who sheltered in these creeks and mountains, have abandoned this region in which there is nothing now to plunder. But as we crossed the mouth of the gulf, the eye caught with delight distant white houses along the high ground of the eastern side — in other words, along the mountain slopes which run out into the promontory of Tainaron ; and a telescope soon brought them into distinctness, and gave us the first opportunity of discussing modern Greek life. We stood off the coast of Maina — the home of those Mainotes whom Byron has made so famous as pirates, as heroes, as lovers, as murderers ; and even now, when the stirring days of war and of piracy have passed away, the whole district retains the aspect of a country in a state of siege or of perpetual danger. Instead of villages surrounded I.] FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 7 by peaceful homesteads, each Mainote house, though standing alone, was walled in, and in the centre was a high square tower, in which, according to trustworthy travellers, the Mainote men used to spend their day watching their enemies, while the women and children alone ventured out to till the fields. For these fierce mountaineers were not only perpetually defying the Turkish power, which was never able to subdue them thoroughly, but they were all engaged at home with internecine feuds, of which the origin was often forgotten, but of which the consequences remained in the form of vengeance due for the life of a kinsman. "When this was exacted on one side, the obligation changed to the other; and so for generation after generation they spent their lives in either seeking or avoiding vengeance. This more than Corsican vendetta was, by a sort of mediaeval chivalry, not extended to the women and children, who were thus in perfect safety, while their husbands and fathers were in daily and deadly danger. They are considered the purest in blood of all the Greeks, though it does not appear that their dialect approaches old Greek nearer than those of their neighbours ; but for beauty of person, and independence of spirit, they certainly rank first among the inhabitants of the Peloponnesus, and most certainly they must have among them a good deal of the old Messenian blood. Most of the country is barren, but there are orange woods, 8 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. which yield the most delicious fruit — a fruit so large and rich that it makes all other oranges appear small and tasteless. The country is now perfectly safe for visitors, and the people ex- tremely hospitable, though their diet is not very palatable to the northern traveller. So with talk and anecdote about the Mainotes — for everyone was now up on deck and sight-seeing — we neared the classic headland of Tainaron, almost the southern point of Europe, once the site of a great temple of Poseidon — not preserved to us, like its sister monument on Sunium — and once, too, the entry to the regions of the dead. And, as if to re- mind us of its most beautiful legend, the dolphins, which had befriended Arion of old, and carried him here to land, rose in the calm summer sea, and came playing round the ship, showing their quaint forms above the water, and keeping with our course, as it were an escort into the homely seas and islands of truer Greece. Strangely enough, in many other journeys through Greek waters, never again did we see these dolphins ; and here, as else- where the old legend, I suppose, based itself upon the fact that this, of all their wide domain, was the favourite resting-place of these creatures, with which the poets of old felt so strong a sympathy. But, while the dolphins have been occupying our attention, we have cleared Cape Matapan, and the deep Gulf of Asine and Gytheion — in fact, the Gulf of Sparta is open to our view. We strained I.] FIRST IMPRESSIONS. o our eyes to discover the features of * hollow Lace- daemon/ and to take in all the outline of this famous bay, through which so many Spartans had held their course in the days of their greatness. The site of Sparta is far from the sea, probably twelve or fifteen miles, but the place is marked for every spectator, throughout all the Peloponnesus and its coasts, by the jagged top of Mount Tayge- tus, even still in June covered with snow. Through the forests upon its slopes the young Spartans and their famous Laconian hounds would hunt all day, and after their rude supper beguile the evening with stories of their dangers and their success. But, as might be expected, of the five villages which made up the famous city, not a stone or vestige remains. The old port of Gythium is still a port; but here, too, the 'wet ways/ and that sea once covered with boats, which a Greek comic poet has called the 'ants of the sea,' have been deserted. We were a motley company on board — Russians, Greeks, Turks, French, English ; and it was not hard to find pleasant companions and diverting conversation among them all. I turned to a Turkish gentleman, who spoke French indifferently, and used chose for every name or word where his know- ledge failed him : ' Is it not,' said I, < a great pity to see this fair coast so desolate ?' ' A great pity, indeed, 5 said he, 'but what can you expect from these Greeks ? They are all pirates and robbers io RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. they are all liars and knaves. Had the Turks been allowed to hold possession of the country, they would have improved it, and developed its re- sources ; but since the Greeks became independent, everything has gone to ruin. Roads are broken up, communications abandoned ; the people emi- grate and disappear — in fact, nothing prospers/ Presently, I got beside a Greek gentleman, from whom I was anxiously picking up the first neces- sary phrases and politenesses of modern Greek, and, by way of amusement, put to him the same question. I got the answer I expected. 'Ah!' said he, ' the Turks, the Turks ! When I think how these miscreants have ruined our beautiful country I How could a land thrive or prosper under such odious tyranny V I ventured to suggest that the Turks were now gone five and forty years, and that it was high time to see some fruits of recovered liberty in the Greeks. No, it was impossible. The Turks had cut down all the woods, and so ruined the climate ; they had destroyed the cities, broken up the roads, encouraged the bandits — in, fact they had left the country in such a state that centuries would not cure it. How far both were right, or both wrong, is not a question for me to decide ; but it might have been suggested, had we been so disposed, that the greatest and the most hopeless of all these sorrows — the utter depopulation of the country — is not due to either modern Greeks or Turks, nor even to the i.j FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 1 1 slave hordes of the Middle Ages. It was a calamity which came upon Greece almost suddenly, imme- diately after the loss of her independence, and which the historians and physiologists have as yet been only partially able to explain. Of this very coast, upon which we were then gazing, the geographer Strabo, about the time of Christ, says, ' that of old, Lacedaemon had numbered ioo cities; in his day there were but ten remaining.' So, then, the sum of the crimes of both Greeks and Turks may be diminished by one. But I, perceiving that each of them would have been extremely indignant at this historical palliation of the other's guilt, ' kept silence, won from good words.' These dialogues beguiled us till we found our- selves, almost suddenly, facing the promontory of Malea, with the island of Cythera (Cerigo) on our right. The island is one little celebrated in his- tory. The Phoenicians seem, in very old times, to have had a settlement there for the working of their purple shell fishery, for which the coasts of Laconia were celebrated ; and they doubtless founded there the worship of the Sidonian goddess, who was transformed by the Greeks into Aphrodite (Venus). During the Peloponnesian War we hear of the Athenians using it as a station for their fleet, when they were ravaging the adjacent coasts. It was, in fact, used by their naval power as the same sort of blister [lirirux^^) on Sparta that Dekeleia was when occupied by the Spartans in Attica. 12 RAMBLES IN GREECE, [ch. Cape Malea is more famous. It was in olden days the limit of the homely Greek waters, the bar to all fair weather and regular winds — a place of storms and wrecks, and the portal to an inhospi- table open sea. 'Pass Malea/ said the Greek sailor, 'and forget your home;' and we can well imagine the delight of the adventurous trader who had dared to cross the Western Seas, to gather silver and lead in the mines of Spain, when he rounded the dreaded cape, homeward bound in his heavy-laden ship, and looked back from the quiet ./Egean. The barren and rocky Cape has its new feature now. On the very extremity there is a little platform, at some elevation over the water, and only accessible with great difficulty from the land by a steep goat-path. Here a hermit has built himself a tiny hut, cultivates his little plot of corn, and lives out in the lone seas, with no society but stray passing ships. When Greece was thickly peopled, he might well have been compelled to seek loneliness here ; but now, when in almost any mountain chain he could find solitude and desola- tion enough, it seems as if that poetic instinct which so often guides the ignorant and uncon- scious anchorite had sent him to this spot, which combines, in a strange way, solitude and publicity, and which excites the curiosity, but forbids the intrusion, of every careless passenger to the East. So we passed into the ^Egean, the real thorough- fare of the Greeks, the mainstay of their communi- I.] FIRST IMPRESSIONS. cation — a sea, and yet not a sea, but the frame of countless headlands and islands, which are ever in view to give confidence to the sailor in the smallest boat. The most striking feature in our view was the serrated outline of the mountains of Crete, far away to the S. E. Though the day was grey and cloudy, the atmosphere was perfectly clear, and allowed us to see these very distant Alps, on which the snow still lay in great fields. The great chain of Ida brought back to us the old legends of Minos and his island kingdom, nor could any safer seat of empire be imagined for a power coming from the south than this great long bar of mountains, to which half the islands of the ^Egean could pass a fire signal in times of war or piracy. The legends preserved to us of Minos — the human sacrifices to the Minotaur — the hostility to Theseus — the identifi- cation of Ariadne with the legends of Bacchus, so eastern and orgiastic in character — make us feel, with a sort of instinctive certainty, that, in spite of the opinions of learned Germans, the power of Minos was no Hellenic empire, but a Phoenician outpost, from which, as afterwards from Carthage, they com- manded distant coasts and islands, for the purposes of trade. They settled, as we know, at Corinth, at Thebes, and probably at Athens, in the days of their greatness, but they seem always to have been strangers and sojourners there, while in Crete they kept the stronghold of their power. Thucydides thinks that Minos' main object was to put down i 4 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. piracy, and protect commerce ; and this is probably the case, though we are without evidence on the point. The historian evidently regards this old Cretan empire as the older model of the Athenian, but settled in a far more advantageous place, and not liable to the dangers which proved the ruin of Athens. The nearer islands were small, and of no reputa- tion, but each, like a mountain top reaching out of a submerged valley, stony and bare. Melos was farther off, but quite distinct — the old scene of Athenian violence and cruelty, to Thucydides so impressive, that he dramatises the incidents, and passes from cold narrative and set oration to a dia- logue between the oppressors and the oppressed. Melian starvation was long after proverbial among the Greeks, and there the fashionable and aristo- cratic Alcibiades applied the arguments, and car- ried out the very policy which the tanner Cleon could not propose without being pilloried by the great historian whom he made his foe. This and other islands, which were always looked upon by the mainland Greeks with some contempt, have of late days received special attention from archaeolo- gists. It is said that the present remains of the old Greek type are now to be found among the islanders — an observation which I did not find true, but which I cannot deny, for want of fuller investi- gation. The noblest and most perfect type of Greek beauty has, indeed, come to us from Melos, I.] FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 15 but not in real life. It is the celebrated Venus of Melos — the most pure and perfect image we know of that goddess, and one which puts to shame the lower ideals so much admired in the museums of Italy. Another remark should be made in justice to the islands, that the groups of Therasia and Santorin, which lie round the crater of a great extinct vol- cano, have supplied us with far the oldest vestiges of inhabitants in any part of Greece. In these, be- neath the lava slopes formed in the last great erup- tion — an eruption earlier than any history, except, perhaps, Egyptian — have been found the dwellings, the implements, and the bones of men, who cannot have lived there much later than 2000 B. c. The art, as well as the implements, of these old dwellers in their Stone Age, has shown us how very ancient Greek forms, and even Greek decorations, are in the world's history : and we may yet from them and from farther researches, such as Schliemann's, be able to reconstruct the state of things in Greece before the Greeks came from their Eastern homes. The special reason why these inquiries seem to me likely to lead to good result is this, that what is called neo-barbarism is less likely to mislead us here than elsewhere. Neo-barbarism means the occurrence in later times of the manners and customs which generally mark very old and primitive times. Some few things of this kind survive everywhere ; thus, in the Irish Island of Arran, a group of famous savants mistook a stone 1 6 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [chl donkey-shed of two years' standing for the build- ing of an extinct race in grey antiquity. As a matter of fact, the construction had not changed from the oldest type. But the spread of culture, and the fulness of population in the good days of Greece, ' make it certain that every spot about the thorough- fares was improved and civilized ; and so, as I have said, there is less chance here than anywhere of our being deceived into mistaking rudeness for old- ness, and raising a modern savage to the dignity of a primaeval man. But we must not let speculations spoil our obser- vations, and must not waste the precious moments given us to take in once for all the general outline of the Greek coasts. While the long string of islands, from Melos up to the point of Attica, framed in our view to the right, to the left the great bay of Argolis opened far into the land, making a sort of vista into the Peloponnesus, so that the mountains of Arcadia could be seen far to the west standing out against the setting sun ;, for the day was now clearer — the clouds began to break, and let us feel touches of the sun's heat towards evening. As we passed Hydrea, the night began to close about us, and we were obliged to make out the rest of our geography by the aid of a rich full moon. But these Attic waters, if I may so call them, will be mentioned again and again in the course of our voyage, and need not now be described in detail. i.] FIRST IMPRESSIONS. i 7 The reader will, I think, get the clearest notion of the size of Greece by reflecting upon the time required to sail round the Peloponnesus in a good steamer. The ship in which we made the journey — the Donnaiy of the French Messagerie Company, — made about eight miles an hour, as I ascertained from frequently questioning the officers. Coming within close range of the coast of Messene, about five o'clock in the morning, we rounded all the headlands, and arrived at the Peiraeus about eleven o'clock the same night. So, then, the Pelop- onnesus is a small peninsula, but even to an outside view ' very large for its size ; ' for the actual climbing up and down of constant moun- tains, in any land journey from place to place, makes the distance in miles very much greater than the line as the crow flies. If I said that every ordinary distance, as measured on the map, is doubled in the journey, I believe I should be under the mark. One more reflection, and that a bold one, here suggests itself. If England, instead of being con- tent with Malta and the Ionian Islands, had, in the days of her naval greatness and general reputa- tion, obtained Sicily and Southern Greece, what precious results might have been gained for these countries themselves, and for Europe at large ! While our invalids and sybarites would have spread wealth and refinement through the beau- tiful uplands of Sicily, our route to India would C 1 8 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. have lain through Greece, and years ago every curious traveller might have gone by rail to Athens, as he now goes to Brindisi. Greek art and anti- quities would have become the household property of good society, instead of being seen only by a few privileged people, to the great disgust of their envious neighbours. I will add a word upon the form and scope of the following work. It seeks to bring the living features of Greece home to the student, by connect- ing them, as far as possible, with the facts of older history, which are so familiar to most of us. It will also say a good deal about the modern politics of Greece, and the character of the modern popula- tion. A long and careful survey of the extant literature of ancient Greece has convinced me that the pictures usually drawn of the old Greeks are idealised, and that the real people were of a very different, if you please of a much lower, type. What is very remarkable and worth quoting in confirmation of my judgment is this, that intelli- gent people at Athens, who had read my opinions formerly hazarded upon the subject, were so struck with the close resemblance of my pictures of the old Greeks to the present inhabitants that they con- cluded I must have visited the country before writing these opinions, and that I was, in fact, drawing the classical people from the life of the moderns. If this is not a proof of the justice of these views, it at least strongly suggests that they I.] FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 19 may be true, and is a powerful support in argu- ing the matter on the perfectly independent ground of the inferences from old literature. After all, national characteristics are very permanent, and very hard to be shaken off, and it would seem strange, indeed, if both these and the Greek lan- guage should have remained almost intact, and yet the race have either changed or been saturated with foreign blood. Foreign invasions and foreign conquests of Greece were common enough ; but here, as elsewhere, the climate and circumstances which have formed a race seem to conspire to preserve it, and to absorb foreign types and fea- tures, rather than to permit the extinction or total change of a distinct race. I feel much fortified in my judgment of Greek character by finding that a very smart, though too sarcastic, observer, M. E. About, in his well-known Grece contemporatne y estimates the people very nearly as I am disposed to estimate the commoner ancient Greeks. He notices, in the second and succeeding chapters of his book, a series of features which make this nationality a very distinct one in Europe. Start- ing from the question of national beauty, and hold- ing rightly that the beauty of the men is greater than that of the women, he touches on a point which told very deeply upon all the history of Greek art. At the present day, the Greek men are much more particular about their appearance, and more vain of it, than the women. The most striking beauty c 2 2o RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch- among them is that of young men ; and as to the care of figure, as About well observes, in Greece it is the men who wear stays — a fashion unknown among Greek women. You may see any day at Athens a dandy so pinched in the waist as to remind one of the Wasps of Aristophanes. Along with this hand- some appearance, the people are, doubtless, a very temperate people ; although they make a great deal of strong wine, they never drink much, and are far more critical about good water than wine. Indeed, in so warm a climate, wine is disagreeable even to the northern traveller; and, as Herodotus remarked long ago, very likely to produce insanity, the rarest form of disease among the Greeks. In fact, they are not a passionate race — having at all ages been gifted with a very bright intellect, and a great rea- sonableness; a love of intellectual insight into things, which is inconsistent with the storms of wilder passion. They are, probably, as clever a people as can be found in the world, and fit for any mental work whatever. This they have proved, not only by get- ting into their hands all the trade of the Eastern Mediterranean, but by holding their own perfectly among English merchants in England. As yet they have not found any encouragement in other directions ; but there can be no doubt that they, if settled among a great people, and weaned from the follies and jealousies of Greek politics, would (like the Jews) outrun many of us, both in politics and in I.] FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 21 science. However that may be — and perhaps such a development requires moral qualities in which they seem deficient — it is certain that their work- men learn trades with extraordinary quickness ; and their young commercial or professional men learn languages, and the amount of knowledge necessary to make money, with the most singular aptness. But as yet they are stimulated chiefly by the love of gain. Besides this, they have great national vanity, and, as M. About remarks, we need never despair of a people who have intelligence, and are at the same time vain. They are very fond of displaying their knowledge on all points — especially I noted their pride in shewing off their knowledge of old Greek history and legend. When I asked them whether they believed the old mythical stories they repeated, they seemed afraid of being thought simple if they confessed they did, and afraid of the reputation of their ancestors if they declared they did not. So they used to preserve a discreet neutrality. The instinct of liberty appears to me as strong in the nation now as it ever was. In fact, the people have never been really enslaved. The eternal refuge for liberty afforded by the sea and the mountains has saved them from this fate ; and, even beneath the heavy yoke of the Turks, a large part of the nation was not subdued, but, under the profession of ban- dits and pirates, enjoyed the great privilege for 22 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. which their ancestors had contended so earnestly. The Mainotes, for example, of whom I have just spoken as occupying the coasts of Messene, never tolerated any resident Turkish magistrate among them, but ' handed to a trembling tax-collector a little purse of gold pieces, hung on the end of a naked sword/ 1 Now, the whole nation is more in- tensely and thoroughly democratic than any other in Europe. They acknowledge no nobility save that of descent from the chiefs who fought in the war of liberation ; they will allow no distinction of classes;, every common mule-boy is a gentleman [kvqloq),. and fully your equal. He sits in the room at meals, and joins in the conversation at dinner. The only reason they tolerate a king is because they cannot endure one of themselves to be superior. This jea- lousy is, unfortunately, a mainspring of Greek politics, and when combined with a dislike of agri- culture, as a stupid and unintellectual occupation,, fills all the country with politicians, merchants, and journalists. But they want the spirit of subordina- tion of their great ancestors, and are often accused of lack of honesty — a very grave feature, and the greatest obstacle to progress in all ages. But it is better to let points of character come out gradu- ally in the course of our studies than to bring them together into an official portrait. It is impos- sible to wander through the country without seeing and understanding the inhabitants ; for the travel- 1 The words are M. About's. I.] FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 23 ler is in constant contact with them, and they have no scruple in displaying all their character. M. About has earned the profound hatred and contempt of the nation by his picture, and I do not wonder at it, seeing that the tone in which he writes is flippant and ill-natured, and seems to betoken certain private animosities, of which the Greeks tell numerous anecdotes. I have no such excuse to be severe or ill-natured, as I found nothing but kindness and hospitality everywhere, and sincerely hope my free judgments may not hurt some sensitive Greek who may chance to see them. Even the great Finlay — one of their best friends — is constantly censured by them for his writings about Modern Greece. But, surely, any real lover of Greece must feel that plain speaking about the faults of the nation is much wanted. The worship lavished upon them by Byron and his school has done its good, and can now only do harm. CHAPTER II. GENERAL IMPRESSIONS OF ATHENS AND ATTICA. THERE is probably no more exciting voyage, to any educated man, than the approach to Athens from the sea. Every promontory, every island, every bay, has its history. If he knows the map of Greece properly, he needs no guide-book or guide to distract him ; if he does not, he needs little Greek to ask of anyone near him the name of this or that object; and the mere names are sufficient to stir up all his classical recollections. But he must make up his mind not to be shocked at j^Egina or Pkalerum, and even to be told that he is utterly wrong in his way of pronouncing them. It was our fortune to come into Greece by night, with a splendid moon shining upon the summer sea. The varied outlines of Sunium, on the one side, and ^Egina on the other, were very clear, but in the deep shadows there was mystery enough to feed the burning impatience of seeing all in the light of common day ; and though we had passed iEgina, and had come over against the rocky Sala- mis, as yet there was no sign of Peirseus. Then CH. II. J A THENS AND A TTICA . 2 5 came the light on Psyttaleia, and they told us that the harbour was right opposite. Yet we came nearer and nearer, and no harbour could be seen. The barren rocks of the coast seemed to form one unbroken line, and nowhere was there a sign of in- dentation or of break in the outline. But, suddenly, -as we turned from gazing on Psyttaleia, where the flower of the Persian nobles had once stood in de- spair, looking upon their fate gathering about them, the vessel had turned eastward, and discovered to us the crowded lights and thronging ships of the famous harbour. Small it looked, very small, but evidently deep to the water's edge, for great ships seemed touching the shore ; and so narrow is the mouth, that we almost wondered how they had made their entrance in safety. But we saw it some weeks later, with nine men-of-war towering above ■all its merchant shipping and its steamers, and among them all crowds of ferry-boats were skim- ming about in the breeze with their wing-like sails. Then we found out that, like the rest of Greece, the Peirseus was far larger than it looked. It differed little, alas! from more vulgar harbours in the noise and confusion of disembarking ; in the absurdity of its custom-house ; in the extortion and insolence of its boatmen. It is still, as in Plato's day, ' the haunt of sailors, where good manners are unknown.' But when we had escaped the turmoil, and were seated silently on the way to Athens, almost along the very road of classical 26 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. days, all our classical notions, which had been scared away by vulgar bargaining and protesting, regained their sway. We had sailed in through the narrow passage where almost every great Greek that ever lived had sometime passed ; now we went along the line, hardly less certain, which had seen all these great ones going to and fro be- tween the city and the port. The present road is shady, and the moon had set, so that our approach to Athens was even more mysterious than our approach to the Peirseus. We were, moreover* perplexed at our carriage stopping under some great plane trees, though we had driven but two miles, and the night was far spent. Our coach- man would listen to no advice or persuasion. We learned afterwards that every carriage going to and from Peiraeus stops at this half-way house, that the horses may drink, and the coachman take * Turkish delight/ and water. There is no excep- tion made to this custom, and the traveller is bound to submit. At last we entered the unpre- tending ill-built streets at the west of Athens. The stillness of the night is a phenomenon hardly known in that city. No sooner have men and horses gone to rest than all the dogs and cats of the town come out to bark and yell through the thorough- fares. Athens, like all parts of Modern Greece,, abounds in dogs. You cannot pass a sailing boat in the Levant without seeing a dog looking angrily over the taffrail, and barking at you as you pass. ii.] A THENS AND A TTICA . Every ship in the Peiraeus has at least one, often a great many, on board. I suppose every house in Athens is provided with one. These creatures seem to make it their business to prevent silence and rest all the night long. They were ably seconded by the cats, as well as by an occasional wakeful donkey; and both cats and donkeys seemed to have voices of almost tropical violence. So the night wore away under rapidly-growing adverse impressions. How is a man to admire art and revere antiquity if he is robbed of his repose ? The Greeks sleep so much in the day that they seem indifferent about nightly disturbances ; and, perhaps, after many years' habitude, even Athenian caterwauling may fail to rouse the sleeper. But what chance has the passing traveller ? Even the strongest ejaculations are but a narrow outlet for his feelings. In this state of mind, then, we rose at the break of dawn to see whether the window would afford any suggestion of ancient days to serve as a re- quital for angry sleeplessness. And there, right opposite, stood the rock which of all rocks in the world's history has done most for literature and art — the rock about which poets, and orators, and architects, and historians have ever spoken with- out exhausting themselves, which is ever new and ever old, ever fresh in its decay, ever perfect in its ruin, ever living in its death — the Acropolis of Athens. 28 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. When I saw my dream and longing of many- years fulfilled, the first rays of the rising sun had just touched the heights, while the town below was still hid in gloom. And I saw rock, and rampart, and ruined fanes — all coloured in uniform tints ; the lights were of a deep rich orange, and the sha- dows, of dark crimson, with the deeper lines of purple. There was no variety in colour between what nature and what man had set there. No whiteness shone from the marble, no smoothness showed upon the hewn and polished blocks ; but the whole mass of orange and crimson stood out together into the pale, pure Attic air. There it stood, surrounded by lanes and hovels, still per- petuating the great old contrast in Greek history, of magnificence and meanness — of loftiness and lowness — as well in outer life as in inward motive. And, as it were in illustration of that art of which it was the most perfect bloom, and which lasted in perfection but a day of history, and then faded aw^ay, so I saw it again and again, in sunlight and in shade, in daylight and at night, but never again in its perfect and singular beauty. If we except the Acropolis, there are only two striking remains of classical antiquity within the modern town of Athens — the Temple of Theseus and the few standing columns of Hadrian's great temple to Zeus. The latter is, indeed, very re- markable. The pillars stand on a vacant platform, once the site of the gigantic temple : the Acropolis II.] A THENS AND A TTICA . 29 forms a noble background; away towards Pha- lerum stretch undulating hills which hide the sea ; to the left (if we look from the town), Mount Hymet- tus raises its barren slopes ; and in the valley, im- mediately below the pillars, flows the famous little Ilisus, glorified for ever by the poetry of Plato, and in its dried-out bed the fountain Callirrhoe, from which the Athenian maidens still draw water as of old — water the purest and best of the city. It wells out from under a great limestone rock, all plumed with the rich Capillus Ve?terts y which seems to find out and frame with its delicate green every natural spring in Greece. But the pillars of the Temple of Zeus, though very stately and massive, and with their summits bridged together by huge blocks of architrave, are still not Athenian, not Attic, not (if I may say so) genuine Greek work; for the Corinthian capitals, which are here seen perhaps in their greatest perfection, can hardly be called pure Greek taste. As is well known, they were hardly ever used, and never used prominently, till the Roman-Greek stage of art. The older Greeks seem to have had a fixed objection to intri- cate ornamentation in their larger temples. All the greater temples of Greece and Greek Italy are in the Doric Order, with its perfectly plain capital. They admitted groups of figures upon the pedi- ment and metopes, because these groups formed clear and massive designs visible from a distance. But such intricacies as those of a Corinthian capi- So RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. tal were not approved, except in small monuments, which were merely intended for close inspection, and where delicate ornament gave grace to a build- ing which could not lay claim to grandeur. Such is clearly the case with the only purely Greek (as opposed to Grseco-Roman) monument in the Corin- thian Order, which we have been able to find — the Choragic monument of Lysicrates at Athens. 1 It was also the case with that beautiful little temple, or group of temples, known as the Erechtheum, which, standing beside the great massive Parthe- non on the Acropolis of Athens, presents the very contrast upon which I am insisting. It is small and essentially graceful, being built in the Ionic style, with rich ornamentation ; while the Parthe- non is massive, and in spite of much ornamenta- tion, very severe in its plainer Doric style. But to return to the pillars of Hadrian's Temple. They are about fifty-five feet high, by six and a-half feet in diameter, and no Corinthian pillar of this colossal size would ever have been set up by the Greeks in their better days. So, then, in spite of the grandeur of these isolated remains — a grandeur not destroyed, perhaps even not diminished, by 1 This beautiful monument has been so defaced and mutilated that the photographs of to-day give no idea of its decoration. The careful drawings and restorations of Stewart and Revett were made in the last century, when it was still comparatively intact, and it is through their book alone that we can now estimate the merits of many of the ancient buildings of Athens. ii.] A THENS AND A TTICA . 3 1 coffee tables, and inquiring waiters, and military bands, and a vulgar crowd about their base — to the student of really Greek art they are not of the highest interest ; nay, they even suggest to him what the Periclean Greeks would have done had they, with such resources, completed the great tem- ple due to the munificence of the Roman Emperor. Let us turn, then, in preference to the Temple of Theseus, at the opposite extremity of the town, it too standing upon a clear platform, and striking the traveller with its symmetry and its complete- ness, as he approaches from the Peiraeus. It is in every way a contrast to the temple of which we have just spoken. It is very small — in fact so small in comparison with the Parthenon, or the great temple at Psestum, that we are disappointed with it ; and yet, being very old, it is built, not in the richly-decorated Ionic style of the Erechtheum, but in severe Doric ; and though small and plain, it is very perfect — as perfect as any such relic that we have. It is many centuries older than Hadrian's great temple ; it could have been destroyed with one-tenth of the trouble, and yet it still stands almost in its perfection. The reason is simply this. Few of the great classical temples suffered much till the Middle Ages. Now, in the Middle Ages this temple, as well as the Parthenon, was usurped by the Greek Church, and turned into a place of Christian worship. So, then, the little Temple of Theseus has escaped the ravages which the last 32 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. few centuries — worse than all that went before — have made in the remains of a noble antiquity. To those who desire to study the effect of the Doric Order this temple appears to me an admirable specimen. From its small size and clear position, all its points are very easily taken in. l Such/ says Bishop Wordsworth, * is the integrity of its structure, and the distinctness of its details, that it requires no description beyond that which a few glances might supply. Its beauty defies all : its solid yet graceful form is, indeed, admirable; and the loveliness of its colouring is such that, from the rich mellow hue which the marble has now assumed, it looks as if it had been quarried, not from the bed of a rocky mountain, but from the golden light of an Athenian sunset/ And in like terms many others have spoken. I have only one reservation to make. The Doric Order being essentially massive, it seems to me that this beautiful temple lacks one essential feature of that Order in which it is built, and therefore, after the first survey, after a single walk about it, it loses to the traveller who has seen Paestum, and who presently cannot fail to see the Parthenon, that peculiar effect of massiveness — of almost Egyptian solidity — which is ever present, and ever imposing, in these huger Doric temples. It seems as if the Athenians themselves felt this — that they felt the plain simplicity of its style was not effective with- out size, and that they accordingly decorated this II.] A THENS AND A TTICA . 3 3 structure with colours more richly than their other temples. All the reliefs and raised ornaments seem to have been painted : other decorations were added in colour on the flat surfaces, so that the whole temple must have been a mass of rich varie- gated hues, of which blue, green, and red are still distinguishable — or were in Stewart's time — and in which bronze and gilding certainly played an im- portant part. We are thus brought naturally face to face with one of the peculiarities of old Greek art most difficult to realize, and still more to appreciate. We can recognise in Egyptian and in Assyrian art the richness and appropriateness of much colour- ing. Modern painters are becoming so alive to this, that among the most striking pictures in our Royal Academy in London have been seen, for some years back, scenes from old Egyptian and Assyrian life, in which the rich colouring of the architecture has been quite a prominent feature, e.g., Mr. Poynter's Israel in Egypt, and Mr. Long's Babylonian Slave Market. But in Greek art — in the perfect symmetry of the Greek temple, in the per- fect grace of the Greek statue — we come to think form of such infinite and paramount importance that we look on the beautiful Parian and Pentelic marbles as specially suited and adapted for the ex- pression of form apart from colour. There is even something in unity of tone that delights the modern eye. Thus, though we feel that the old Greek D 34 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. temples have lost all their original brightness, yet, as I have myself said, and as I have quoted from Bishop Wordsworth, the rich mellow hue which has toned all these ruins has to us its peculiar charm. The same rich yellow brown, almost the colour of the Roman travertine, is one of the greatest features in the splendid remains which have made Psestum unique in all Italy. This colour contrasts beautifully with the blue sky of southern Europe ; it lights up with extraordinary richness in the rising or setting sun. We can easily conceive that were it proposed to restore the Attic temples to their pristine whiteness, we should feel a severe shock, and beg to have these venerable buildings left in the soberness of their acquired colour. Still more does it shock us to be told that great sculptors, with Parian marble at hand, preferred to set up images of the gods in gold and ivory, or, still worse, with parts of gold and ivory ; and that they thought it right to fill out the eyes with precious stones, and affix gilded wreaths round coloured hair. When we first come to realise these things, it is impossible not to exclaim against such a jumble, as we should call it, of painting and architec- ture — still worse, of painting and sculpture. Nor is it possible or reasonable that we should at once submit to such a revolution in our artistic ideas, and bow without criticism to these shocking features in Greek art. But if blind obedience to n.] ATHENS AND ATTICA. 35 these our great masters in the laws of beauty is not to be commended, so neither is an absolute resist- ance to all argument on the question to be re- spected ; nor do I acknowledge the good sense or the good taste of that critic who insists that nothing can possibly equal the colour and texture of white marble, and that all colouring of such a substance is the mere remains of barbarism. For, say what we will, the Greeks were certainly, as a nation, the best judges of beauty whom the world has yet seen. And this is not all. The beauty of which they were evidently most fond was beauty of form — harmony of proportions, symmetry of design. They always hated the tawdry and the extravagant. As to their literature, there is no poetry, no oratory, no history, which is less decorated with the flowers of rhetoric : it is all pure in design, chaste in detail. So with their dress ; so with their dwellings. We cannot but feel that, had the effect of painted temples and statues been tawdry, there is no people on earth who would have felt it so keenly, and disliked it so much. There must, then, have been strong reasons why this bright colouring did not strike their eye as it would the eye of sober moderns. To anyone who has seen the country, and thought about the question there, many such reasons pre- sent themselves. In the first place, all through southern Europe, and more especially in Greece, there is an amount of bright colour in nature, D 2 RAMBIES IN GREECE. [ch.. which prevents almost any artificial colouring from producing a startling effect. Where all the land- scape, the sea, and the air are exceedingly bright, we find the inhabitants increasing the brightness of their dress and houses, as it were, to correspond with nature. Thus, in southern Italy, they paint their houses pink and yellow, and so give to their towns that rich and warm effect which we miss so keenly among the grey and sooty streets of northern Europe. So also in their dress, these people wear scarlet, and white, and rich blue, not so much in patterns as in large patches, and thus a festival in Sicily or in Greece fills the streets with intense colour. We know that the colouring of the old Greek dress was quite of the same character as that of the modern, though in design the dress of our day has completely changed. We must, therefore, ima- gine the old Greek crowd before their temples, or in their market-places, a very white crowd, with patches of scarlet, and various blue ; perhaps alto- gether white in processions, if we except scarlet shoe-straps and other such slight relief. One cannot but feel that a richly coloured temple — that pillars of blue and red — that friezes of gilding, and other ornament, upon a white marble ground, and in white marble framing, must have been a splendid and appropriate background, a genial feature, in such a sky and with such costume. We must get accustomed to such combinations — we must dwell upon them in imagination, or ask our good painters il] A Til ENS AND A TTICA . 3 7 to restore them for us, and let us look upon them constantly and calmly. To me they ap- pear far finer and richer than our attempts at ornament. But I will not seek to persuade ; I only desire to state the case fairly, and put the reader in a posi- tion to judge for himself. So much for the painted architecture. I will but add, the most remarkable specimen of a richly painted front to which we can now appeal is also really one of the most beautiful in Europe — I mean the front of S. Mark's at Venice. The rich frescoes and profuse gilding on this splen- did front, of which photographs give a very false idea, should be studied by all who desire to judge fairly of this side of Greek taste. But I must say a word, before passing on, con- cerning the statues. No doubt, the painting of statues, and the use of gold and ivory upon them, were derived from a rude age, when no images existed but rude wooden work — at first a mere block, then roughly altered and reduced to shape, but probably requiring some colouring to pro- duce any effect whatever. To a public accus- tomed from childhood to such painted, and often richly -dressed, images, a pure white marble statue must appear utterly cold and lifeless. So it does to us, when we have become accustomed to the mellow tints of old and even weather-stained Greek statues; and it should here be noticed that this mellow skin-surface on antique statues is not 38 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. the mere result of age, but of an artificial process, whereby they burnt into the surface a composition of wax and oil, which gave a yellowish tone to the marble, as well as also that peculiar surface which so accurately represents the texture of the human skin. But if we imagine all the marble surfaces and reliefs in the temple coloured for architectural richness'* sake, we can feel even more strongly how cold and out-of-place would be a perfectly colour- less statue in the centre of all this pattern. I will go farther and say that I have seen, and can point out cases, where colouring greatly heightens the effect and beauty of sculpture. The first is from the bronzes found at Herculaneum, now in the museum of Naples. Though they are not marble, they are suitable for my purpose, being naturally of a single dark-brown hue, which is indeed even more unfavourable (we should think) for such treatment. In some of the finest of these bronzes — especially in the two young men starting for a race — the eyeballs are inserted in white, with iris and pupil coloured. Nothing can be conceived more striking and life-like than the effect produced. I will add one remarkable modern example — the monument at Florence to a young Indian prince, who visited England and this country five years ago, and died of fever during his homeward voyage. They have set up to him a richly coloured and gilded baldachin, in the open air, and in a II.] A THENS AND A TTICA . 39 \v09ded, quiet park. Under this covering is a life-sized bust of the prince, in his richest state dress. The whole bust — the turban, the face, the drapery — all is coloured to the life, and the dress, of course, of the most gorgeous variety. The tur- ban is chiefly white, striped with gold, in strong contrast to the mahogany complexion and raven hair of the actual head ; then the robe is gold and green, and covered with ornament. The general effect is, from the very first moment, striking and beautiful. The longer it is studied, the better it appears, and I do not think there is a single rea- sonable spectator who will not confess that were we to replace the present bust with a copy of it in white marble, the beauty and harmony of the monument would be utterly marred. To those who have the opportunity of visiting Italy, I strongly commend these specimens of coloured buildings and sculpture. When they have seen them, they will hesitate to condemn what we have heard called the wretched bad taste of the old Greeks in their use of colour in the plastic arts. But these archaeological discussions are truly £KJ3oXat Aoyou, digressions — in themselves neces- sary, yet only tolerable if they are not too long. I revert to the general state of the antiquities at Athens, always reserving the Acropolis for a spe- cial discussion. As I said, the isolated pillars of Hadrian'sTemple to Zeus, and the so-called Temple 4 o RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. of Theseus, are the only very striking objects. 1 There are, of course, many other buildings, or remains of buildings. There is the monument of Lysicrates — a small and very graceful round chamber, adorned with Corinthian engaged pillars, and intended to carry on its summit the tripod he had gained in a musical and dramatic contest at Athens. There is the Temple of the Winds, as it is called — a sort of public clock, with sundials on its outward surfaces, and arrangements for a water-clock within. There are two portals, or gateways, one leading into the old agora, or market-place, the other leading from old Athens into the Athens of Hadrian. But all these buildings are either miserably de- faced, or of such late date and decayed taste as to make them unworthy specimens of pure Greek art. A single century ago there was much to be seen and admired which has since disappeared; and even to-day the majority of the population are 1 By the way, the appellation Temple of Theseus is more than doubtful. The building fronts towards the east. This is proved by the greater size, and more elaborate decoration of the eastern por- tal. It is almost certain, according to an old scholion on Pindar, that the temples of heroes like Theseus faced west, while those of the Olympian Gods only faced the rising sun. The temple, therefore, was the temple, not of a hero, but of a God. Probably the Temple of Herakles, worshipped as a God at Athens, which is mentioned in the scholia of Aristophanes as situated in this part of Athens, is to be identified with the building in question. But I suppose for years to come we must be content to abide by the old name of Theseion, which is now too long in general use to be easily disturbed. ii.] A THENS AND A TTICA . 4 1 reckless as to the treatment of ancient monuments, and mischievous in wantonly defacing them. Thus, I saw the marble tombs of Otfried Miiller and Charles Lenormant — tombs which, though modern, were yet erected at the cost of the nation to men who were eminent lovers and students of Greek art — I saw these tombs used as common targets by the neighbourhood, and all peppered with marks of shot and of bullets. I saw them, too, all but blown up by workmen blasting for building stones close beside them. I saw, also, from the Acropolis a young gentleman practising with a pistol at a piece of old carved marble work in the Theatre of Dionysus. His object seemed to be to chip off a piece from the edge at every shot. Happily, on this occasion, our vantage ground enabled us to take the law into our own hands, and after in vain appealing to a custodian to interfere, we adopted the tactics of Apollo at Delphi, and by detach- ing stones from the top of our precipice, we put to flight the wretched barbarian who had come to ravage the treasures of that most sacred place. These instances will show what the state and security of Athenian monuments are at Athens. Even the Acropolis — which is guarded by old pensioners, who escort strangers during their stay, but who, as I have just said, will not interfere with their countrymen — even the Acropolis is only safe in times of peace, and is pretty sure to be bom- 42 RAMBLES IN GREECE. |_ CH - barded in any serious revolution. This was done — and done in the presence of men whom I myself spoke with — some ten years after Lord Elgin had luckily carried off a good portion of its incom- parable friezes to England. And yet now the Greeks are in the habit of calling him a fatal amateur, and of discussing the expediency of ask- ing them back ; they even hint at the bad taste of the English nation in not voluntarily sending them back. In other words, we are asked, or are going to be asked, or are expected without asking, to send back these priceless treasures to a people who have restored hardly anything up to the present day — who have not cared to put together the pieces of the broken lion of Chseronea, or to set up the fallen columns of the Parthenon, lying each in its place, and with their pieces in the natural order, since the year 1687. They are now learning to talk and fret about art and archaeology ; they have as yet done practically nothing to pre- serve or encourage them. I hope the day is far dis- tant when an outbreak of chivalrous sentiment,, such as that created by Lord Byron, will induce us to sacrifice what has been saved from certain des- truction. 1 1 The usual apology or defence made by intelligent Greeks, when we press these things upon them, is their recent escape from Turkish rule. We received our country desolate, depopulated, impoverished, they say ; everything must be begun afresh ; there has been so much to be done, that we are not to blame. Give us time, and we will re- store and make good all things. This defence, very complete at one time, II.] A THENS AND A TTICA . 43 If the Greeks had money, or the English nation a real love of art, a nice question of national ownership connected with the Elgin marbles might possibly arise. As is well known, two of the ships which were bringing home Lord Elgin's marbles from Athens foundered as they were rounding Cape Malea, which thus in our own century (the year 1815) reasserted its classical reputation for dangerous storms. These precious relics have been lying at a depth of 90 feet ever since, and are now said by the Greeks to have been discovered — or rather their ships are said to have been discovered — by fishermen off the coast. If this be true, all the world ought to insist upon their recovery ; for it is universally admitted that the sculptures of the Parthenon are the most perfect results of the most perfect age of the most perfect artists the world has yet seen. But sup- posing them recovered, to whom do they belong ? Lord Elgin obtained them by a firman from the Sultan, who was then sovereign of Greece, and their acknowledged owner. But is the Greek go- vernment bound by the obligations of a sovereign is becoming every day weaker. Now that some forty years of Greek liberty have elapsed, we may expect them to be up and doing. I will add this suggestion. If the Greeks would but abandon the perpetual fever of politics ; if they would but resign themselves to any stable government for a few years ; if the opposition would but support the government loyally in promoting national objects, the progress of the Greeks would be very different. It is, indeed, hard for any minister to attend to archaeology, when his cabinet are always contending for bare existence against coalitions of opponents. 44 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. whom the nation has repudiated ? Or even admit- ting that it is, does not the fact of their being left in Greek waters for sixty years give a lawful claim to the Greeks for retaining them ? On the other hand, the accident of a shipwreck ought not to deprive Lord Elgin or his representatives (the British Museum ?) of what was acknowledged their rightful property. Unfortunately, this uncertainty will prevent any honest search from being made. The Greeks talk a great deal about it, and pretend great anxiety, but will do nothing ; the English will probably not wish to spend money in recovering property which will at once be claimed by the Greeks, who will say that they were themselves on the point of taking possession of it. So the marbles must lie in the Mediterranean, I suppose, till some rich amateur quietly takes them up at his own expense, and probably without the knowledge of either government. I say all this on the suppo- sition that they are really recoverable ; but I need hardly add that this is very doubtful, indeed. The melancholy fate of Parthenon sculptures, now doomed to perpetual separation — part of them still upon their rock ; part of them among the dol- phins about Cape Malea ; part of them in the safe gloom of the British Museum ; and yet a part of them, and that the greatest, destroyed not only by enemies, but by would-be patriots and conquerors — this melancholy fate naturally suggests to the il] A THENS AND A TT1CA . 45 traveller in Greece the kindred one of the proper distribution of all antiquities, when found, in the best way to promote the love and knowledge of art. On this point it seems to me that we have gone to one extreme, and the Greeks to the other, and that neither of us have done what is right and best to make known what we acknowledge ought to be known as widely as possible. The tendency, at least of later years, has been in England to swal- low up all lesser and all private collections in the great national Museum in London, which has accordingly become so enormous and so bewilder- ing that no one, I may boldly say, can profit by it except the trained specialist, who goes in with his eyes shut, and will not open them till he has arrived at the special class of objects he intends to examine. But to the ordinary public, and even the generally enlightened public (if such an ex- pression be not a contradiction in terms), there is nothing so utterly bewildering, and therefore so unprofitable, as a visit to the myriad treasures of this great world of curiosities. In the last century many private persons — many noblemen of wealth and culture — possessed remark- able collections of antiquities. These have almost all been swallowed up by what is called 'the nation/ In Greece the very opposite course is being now pursued. By a special law it is forbidden 46 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. to sell out of the country, or even to remove from a district, any antiquities whatever; and for this purpose little museums have been estab- lished in every village in Greece — nay, sometimes, even in places where there is no village, in order that every district may possess its own riches, and become worth a visit from the traveller and the antiquarian. I have seen such museums at Eleusis, some fifteen miles from Athens, at Thebes, now an equally insignificant village, at Livadia, at Chsero- nea, at Argos, and even in the wild plains of Orchomenus, in a little chapel, without a town within miles of it. If I add to this that most of these museums were mere dark out-houses, only lighted through the door, the reader will have some notion of the task it would be to visit and criticise the ever-increasing remnants of classical Greece. Here we have the opposite principle to that adopted in England, and we can hardly call it better. In Greece it is certainly worse. For though it is intended to give the country people an interest in their district antiquities, and also to induce learned travellers to traverse the country in quest of them, the Greek government has omitted to provide for the people any decent, well-lighted museums, any catalogues or descriptions of what is found, any proper reward for chance discoveries made by poor people. It has also omitted to provide for learned travellers — I will not say rail- II.] A THENS AND A TTICA . 47 roads, but even ordinary roads, inns, beds, food, or, indeed, any kind of accommodation that could be named. You must ride on mules or ponies over a very rough country, often down the beds of streams^, and up the sides of precipices ; you must not expect to sleep in most beds for one moment after the darkness has invited the insect bandits — a far worse scourge than their human colleagues — to attack you. The traveller must depend alto- gether on private hospitality, which is, indeed, generally, and, so far as I know, generously prof- fered ; but upon which independent people do not willingly count, and of which one can never be actually certain. However, then, the Greek plan might be adopted in such a country as England, provided our people were decently educated, in Greek desert plains and highlands it did not seem to me to answer its purpose, and remains an almost insuperable bar to any thorough study of the anti- quities. In such a town as Athens, on the contrary, it seems to me that the true solution of the problem has been attained, though it will probably be shortly abandoned for a central museum. There are at Athens at least four separate museums of antiquities — one at the University, one called the Vavarkion, one in the Theseion, and one on the Acropolis — devoted to its special treasures. If these several storehouses were thoroughly kept — if some obvious restorations of tips of noses and other ex- 48 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. tremities were made — I can conceive no better arrangement for studying separately and in detail the various monuments, which must always be- wilder and fatigue when crowded together in one vast exhibition. If the British Museum were in this way severed into many branches, and the different classes of objects it contains were placed in separate buildings, and in different parts of London, I believe it would tend to a far greater knowledge of what it contains, and hence to a greater usefulness in educating the nation. To visit any one of the Athenian museums was a com- paratively short and easy task, where a man can see the end of his labour before him, and hence will not hesitate to delay long over such things as are worth a careful study. It may be said that all this digression about the mere placing of monuments is delaying the reader too long from what he desires to know — something about the monuments themselves. But this little book, to copy an expression of Herodotus, par- ticularly affects digressions. I desire to wander through the subject exactly in the way which naturally suggests itself to me. After all, the reflections on a journey ought to be more valuable than its mere description. Before passing into Attica, and leaving Athens, something more must, of course, be said of the museums, then of the newer diggings, and espe- cially of the splendid tombs found in the Cera- II.] A THENS AND A TTICA . 49 meicus. "We will then mount the Acropolis, and wander about leisurely in its marvellous ruins. From it we can look out upon the general shape and disposition of Attica, and plan our shorter ex- cursions. E CHAPTER III. ATHENS — THE MUSEUMS — THE TOMBS. Nothing is more melancholy and more disappoint- ing than the first view of the Athenian museums. Almost every traveller sees them after passing through Italy, where everything — where even too much — has been done to make the relics of anti- quity perfect and complete. Missing noses, and arms, and feet have been restored; probable or possible names have been assigned to every statue; they are set up, generally, in handsome galleries, with suitable decoration ; the visitor is provided with full descriptive catalogues. Nothing of all this however is found in Greece. The fragments are not sorted or arranged : many of the mutilated statues are lying prostrate, and of course in no way re- stored. Everything, I was told (June, 1875), was in process of being arranged. But there is room to apprehend that in fifty years things will still be found changing their places, and still in process of being arranged. 1 It is hard to believe in the 1 There is an attempted Catalogue of the museums as they were in 1874, by Heydemann, in German. I tried this Catalogue in 1875, and in.] ATHENS, THE MUSEUMS. 51 earnestness about art of any nation which has left the fallen pillars of the Parthenon upon the ground, not only since the explosion of 1687, but, what is more to the point, during nearly half a century of liberty, and of clear knowledge as to the value of these remains. So, then, except some foreign in- fluences be brought to bear — except the French and German antiquaries act unselfishly at their own expense — I fear that all of us who visit Athens will be doomed to that first feeling of bitter disappoint- ment. But I am bound to add, that every patient observer who sets to work in spite of his disap- pointment, and examines with honest care these * disjecta membra 5 of Attic art — anyone who will replace in imagination the tips of noses — anyone who will stoop over lying statues, and guess at the context of broken limbs — any such observer will find his vexation gradually changing into wonder, and will, at last, come to see that all the splendidly- restored Greek work in Italian museums is not worth a tithe of the shattered fragments in the real home and citadel of pure art. This is especially true of the museum on the Acropolis. It is, how- ever, also true of the other museums, and more found it quite useless. In very many cases he was obliged, just like the able editor of Murray's Handbook, to describe the fragments by their position in the building where they were placed. When I was there, both the buildings had been partly changed and the position of the antiquities altered. E 2 52 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [cel obviously true of the reliefs upon the tombs. The assistance of an experienced Athenian antiquarian is also required, who knows his way among the fragments, and who can tell the history of the discovery, and the theories of the purport of each. There are a good many men of ability and learning connected with the University of Athens, who describe each object in the antiquarian papers according as it is discovered. But when I asked whether I could buy or subscribe to any re- cognised organ for such information, I was told (as I might have expected,) that no single paper or periodical was so recognised. Clashing interests and personal friendships determine where each dis- covery is to be announced; so that often the pro- fessedly archaeological journals contain no mention of such things, while the common daily papers secure the information. Here, again, we feel the want of some stronger government — some despotic assertion of a law of gravitation to a common centre — to counteract the strong, centrifugal forces acting all through Greek society. The old autonomy of the Greeks — that old as- sertion of local independence which was at once their greatness and their ruin — this strong instinct has lasted undiminished to the present day. They seem even now to hate pulling together, as we say. They seem always ready to assert their individual rights and claims against those of the community or the public. The old Greeks had as a safeguard their iil] ATHENS, THE MUSEUMS. 53 divisions into little cities and territories ; so that their passion for autonomy could be expended on their city interests, in which the individual could forget himself. But as the old Greeks were often too selfish for this, and asserted their personal autonomy against their own city, so the modern Greek, who has not this safety-valve, finds it difficult to rise to the height of acting in the in- terests of the nation at large ; and though he con- verses much and brilliantly about Hellenic unity, generally allows personal interests to outweigh this splendid general conception. So, then, the Greeks will not even agree to tell us where we may find a complete list of newly-discovered antiquities. Nor, indeed, does the Athenian public care very much, beyond a certain vague pride in them, for such things, if we except one peculiar kind, which has taken among them somewhat the place of old china among us. There have been found in many Greek cemeteries — in Megara, in Cyrene, and of late in great abundance and excellence at Tanagra, in Bceotia — little figures of terra cotta, often delicately modelled and richly coloured both in dress and limbs. These figurines are ordinarily from eight to twelve inches high, and represent ladies both sitting and standing in graceful atti- tudes, young men in pastoral life, and other such subjects. I was informed that some had been found in various places through Greece, but the main source of them — and a very rich source — is the 54 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. Necropolis at Tanagra. I saw several collections of these figures on cupboards, and in cabinets in private houses at Athens, and was greatly struck with the marvellous modernness of their appear- ance. The graceful drapery of the ladies especially was very like modern dress, and they had often on their heads flat round hats, quite similar in design to the gypsy hats much worn among us of late years. But above all, the hair was drawn back from the forehead, not at all in what is considered Greek style, but rather a V Eugenie, as we used to say when we were young. Many hold in their hands large fans, like those which we make of peacocks' feathers. No reasonable theory has yet been started, so far as I know, concerning the object or intention of these figures. So many of them are female figures, that it seems unlikely they were portraits of the deceased; and the frequent occurrence of two figures together, especially one woman being carried by another, seems also to dissuade us from such a theory. They seem to be the figures called Kopat by many old Greeks, which were used as toys by children, and, perhaps, as orna- ments. The large class of tradesmen who made them were called Kopo7r\a0oi y and were held in con- tempt by real sculptors. Many of them are, indeed, badly modelled, and evidently the work of ignorant tradesmen. If it could be shown that they were only found in the graves of children, it would be a touching sign of that world-wide feeling III.] ATHENS, THE MUSEUMS. 55 among the human race, to bury with the dead friend whatever he loved and enjoyed in his life on earth, that he might not feel lonely in his gaunt and gloomy grave. But I do not fancy that this will ever be established. There is an equal difficulty as to their age. The Greeks say that the tombs in which they are found are not later than the second century B.C., and it is, indeed, hard to conceive at what later period there was enough wealth and art in Tanagra to produce such elegant, and often costly, results. It and Thespiae were, indeed, in Strabo's day (lib. ix. 2) the only remaining cities of Bceotia; the rest, he says, were but ruins and names. But we may be certain that in universal decay the remaining towns must have been as poor and insignificant as they now are. So, then, we seem necessarily thrown back into classical days for the origin of these figures, which in their bright colouring — pink and blue in the dresses, often gilded fringes ; the hair always fair, so far as I could see — are, indeed, like what we know of old Greek statuary, but in other respects are, as I have just now said, surprisingly modern. If their anti- quity can be strictly demonstrated, it will but show another case of the versatility of the Greeks in all things relating to art : how, with the simplest ma- terial, and at a long distance from the great art cen- tres, they produced a type of excesding grace and refinement totally foreign to their great old models, 5 6 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. varying in dress, attitude — every point of style — from ordinary Greek sculpture, and anticipating much of the modern ideals of beauty and elegance. But it is necessary to suspend our judgment, and wait for farther and closer investigation. The workmen at Tanagra are now forbidden to sell these objects to private fanciers ; and in conse- quence, their price has risen so enormously, that those in the market can never be obtained for less than from ^40 to £80. At this price they can still be bought in Athens. The only other method of procuring them, and of procuring them more cheaply, is to undertake a personal voyage to Tanagra — a place now very out-of-the-way and difficult to reach — and there obtain from the work- men what they have concealed for the purpose of arranging private sales. This, I have no doubt, is the practical way to obtain them, whatever may be said of its morality. But antiquarian collectors have never been celebrated for extreme nicety of conscience. It is, therefore, worth while to notice the matter without venturing to offer any advice. It is convenient to dispose of this peculiar and distinct kind of Greek antiquities, because it seems foreign to the rest, and cannot be brought under any general head. Doubtless, these figurines are now finding their way into most European museums. 1 1 There is now quite a large collection of them in the British Mu- seum. See Vase Room I., case 35, where there are ten of these figures III.] ATHENS, THE MUSEUMS. 57 I pass to the public collections at Athens, in which we find hardly any of these figures, and which rather contain the usual products of Greek plastic art — statues, reliefs, pottery, and inscrip- tions. As I have said, the statues are in the most lamentable condition, shattered into fragments, without any attempt at restoring even such losses as can be supplied with certainty. Thus, to take first those statues which belong to the highest and most perfect epoch, there are not, I suppose, more than eight or ten which look as if they could be re- stored into that perfection in which we see the Apoxyomenos or the Mars of the Vatican. What might be done by such wholesale restoration as was practised in Italy some fifty years ago it is hard to say. But even the ordinary observer can see that, without taking any liberties, some dozen figures — each of which is worth a thousand inferior works — could be rescued from oblivion. There is, indeed, one — a naked athlete, with his cloak hanging over the left shoulder, and coiled round the left forearm — which seems as good as any strong male figure which we now possess. While it has almost exactly the same treatment of the cloak on the left arm which we see in the celebrated Hermes of the Vatican j 1 the proportions of the figure are from Tanagra. In Room II. there is a whole case of them, chiefly from Cyrene, and from Cnidus. 1 No. 53, Mus. Pio Clem., in a small room beside the Apollo Bel- videre and Laocoon. 5 8 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. nearer the celebrated Discobolus (numbered 126, Braccio Nuovo). There are two other copies at Florence, and one at Naples. These repetitions, point to some very celebrated original, which the critics consider to be of the older school of Poly- cletus, and even imagine may possibly be a copy of his Doryphorus, which was called the Canon statue, or model of the perfect manly form. The Hermes has too strong a likeness to Lysippus' Apoxyomenos not to be recognised as of the same school. What we have, then, in this splendid Attic statue is an in- termediate stage between the earlier and stronger school of Polycletus and the elegant treatment of hair and cloak of the later school of Lysippus in Alexander's day. There can, however, be no doubt that it does not date from the older and severer age of sculpture, of which Phidias w r as the highest representative. Anyone w T ho studies Greek art, even cursorily, perceives how remarkably not only the style of dress and ornament, but even the proportions of the figure change, as we come down from genera- tion to generation in the long line of Greek sculp- tors. The friezes of Selinus (now at Palermo), and those of ^Egina (now in Munich), which are our earliest certain specimens, are remarkable for short, thick-set forms. The men are men five feet seven, or, at most, eight inches high, and their figures are squat even for that height. In the specimens we have of the days of Phidias and Polycletus these ill.] ATHENS, THE MUSEUMS. 59 proportions are altered. The head of the Dory- ft/wrus, if we can depend upon our supposed copies, is still heavy, and the figure bulky, though taller in proportion. He looks a man of five feet ten inches at least. The statue we are just considering is even taller, and is like the copies we have of Lysippus' work, the figure apparently of a man of six feet high; but his head is not so small, nor is he so slender and light as this type is usually found. It is not very easy to give a full account of this change. There is, of course, one general reason well known — the art of the Greeks, like almost all such developments, went through stiffness and clumsiness into solemn dignity and strength, to which it presently added that grace which raises strength into majesty. But in time the seeking after grace becomes too prominent, and so gra- dually strength, and with it, of course, the majesty which requires strength as well as grace, begins to fade away. So we arrive at a period when the forms are merely elegant or voluptuous, without any assertion of power. This can only be made plain by a series of illus- trations. Of course, the difficulty of obtaining really archaic statues is very great. They were mostly sacred images of the Gods, esteemed vene- rable and interesting by the Greeks, but seldom copied. Happily, the Romans, when they set them- selves to admire and procure Greek statues, had fits 60 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. of what we now call pre-Raphaelitism — fits of admi- ration for the archaic and simple, even if ungraceful, in preference to the more perfect forms of later art. Hence, we find in Italy a number of statues which, if not really archaic, are at least archaistic, as the critics call it — imitations or copies of archaic statues. With these we must in general be content. I will speak of a similar development among female figures in connection with another subject, which will naturally suggest it. But we may pause a moment on the question of archaic Greek art, because, apart from the imitations of the time of Augustus and Hadrian, we have some really genuine fragments in the little museum in the Acropolis — fragments saved, not from the present Parthenon, but rather from about the ruins of the older Parthenon. This temple was destroyed by the Persians, and the materials were built into the surrounding wall of the Acropolis by the Athe- nians, when they began to strengthen and beautify it at the opening of their career of dominion and wealth. The stains of fire are said to be still visible on these drums of pillars now built into the fortification, and there can be no doubt as to the fact of their belonging to the old temple, as it is well attested. But I do not agree with the Germans that these older materials were so used, in order to nurse a perpetual hatred against the Persians in the minds of the people who saw daily before them the evidence of the ancient wrong done to their IIL MAKATIIONIAN THESEl'S, V 6 1 III.] ATHENS, THE MUSEUMS. 61 temples. 1 I believe this sentimental twaddle to be quite foreign to all Greek feeling. The materials were used in the wall because they were unsuitable for the newer temples, and because they must otherwise be greatly in the way on the limited surface of the Acropolis. The principal of the old sculptures as yet found is a very stiff, and, to us, comical figure, which has lost its legs, but is otherwise fairly preserved, and which depicts a male figure with curious conven- tional hair, and still more conventional beard, hold- ing by its four legs a bull, which he is carrying on his shoulders. The eyes are now hollow, and were evidently once filled with something different from the marble of which the statue is made. The whole pose and style of the work is stiff and expression- less, and it is one of the few certain remains of the older Attic art still in existence. To me there is little doubt what the statue means. It is the votive offering of the Marathonians, which Pausanias saw in the Acropolis, and which com- memorated the legend of Theseus having driven the wild bull sent them by Minos from Marathon to the Acropolis, wmere he sacrificed it. Pausanias does not say how Theseus was represented with the 1 It is asserted somewhere by a Greek author that the temples burned by the Persians were left in ruins to remind the people of the wrongs of the hated barbarians. But we have distinct evidence, in some cases, that this assertion is not true, and besides, using the ma- terials for other purposes is not the same thing. 62 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. bull ; but it was certainly not a group — such a thing is clearly beyond the narrow and timid con- ceptions of the artists of that day. It being im- possible to represent man and bull together except by representing the man carrying the bull, the artist has made the animal full-grown in type, but as small as a calf, and has, of course, not attempted any expression of hostility between the two. This peaceful look, which merely arises from the inability of the artist to render expression, has led some good art critics to call it, not a Theseus but a Hermes. This identification rests on purely theoretical grounds. Such being the history of the statue, there remains but to look at it, if we wish to note its characteristics. We see the con- ventional treatment of the hair, the curious trans- parent garments lying close to the skin, and the very heavy muscular forms of the arms and body. The whole figure is stiff and expressionless, and strictly in what is called the hieratic or old religious style, as opposed to an ideal or artistic form. There are two full -length reliefs — one preserved in a little church near Orchomenus, of which I could not obtain a photograph, but which will be described hereafter, and another at Athens in the Theseion — which are plainly of the same epoch and style of art. The Athenian one is inscribed as the work of Aristion, doubtless an artist known as contem- porary with those who fought at the battle of Ma- SllXL VY AK1ST10N. P. o 3 in.] ATHENS, THE MUSEUMS. 63 rathon. Thus we obtain a very good clue to the date at which this art nourished. Any impartial observer will see in these figures strong traces of the influence of Assyrian style. In fact, if this figure of Aristion, or the other near Orchomenus, were found among professedly Assyrian reliefs, they would excite no surprise. This influence seems as certain, and almost as much disputed, as the Egyptian influences on the Doric style of archi- tecture. To my mind these influences speak so plainly, that, in the absence of strict demonstration to the contrary, I feel bound to admit them — the more so, as we know that the Greeks, like all other people of genius, were ever ready and anxious to borrow from others. It should be often repeated, because it is usually ignored, that it is a most original gift to know how to borrow ; and that those only who feel wanting in originality are anxious to assert it. Thus the Romans, who borrowed without assimilating, are always assert- ing their originality; the Greeks, who borrowed more and better, because they made what they borrowed their own, never care to do so. The hackneyed parallel of Shakespeare will occur to all. Unfortunately, the museums of Athens show us hardly any examples of the transition state of art between this and the perfect work of Phidias' school. The ^Eginetan marbles are less developed than Phidias' work; but from the relief of Aristion, 64 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. and the Theseus of the Acropolis, to these, is a wide gulf in artistic feeling. There is also the well- known Apollo of Thera, and a small sitting Athene in the Acropolis, which, though very archaic, begin to approach the grace of artistic sculpture. But Italy- is sufficiently rich in imitations of this very period. There are four very remarkable statues in a small room of the Villa Albani near Rome, which are not photographed, because the public would, doubt- less, think them bad art, but which, could I pro- cure them and reproduce them, would illustrate clearly what I desire. We have also among the bronzes found at Pompeii two statues precisely of this style, evidently copies from old Greek ori- ginals, and made to satisfy the pre-Raphaelitism (as I have already called it) of Italian amateurs. These are the Apollo and Artemis. The Artemis is the more archaistic of the two, and I, therefore, take this specimen first. It maintains in the face the very features which we think so comical when looking at the relief of Aristion, or any of the older vases. They are, no doubt, softened and less ex- aggerated, but still they are there. The so-called Greek profile is not yet attained. The general features of the old Greek face in monuments were a retreating forehead, peaked nose, slightly turned up at the end, the mouth drawn in and the corners turned up, flat elongated eyes (especially full eyes in the profiles of reliefs), a prominent angular chin, lank cheeks, and high ears. These lovely features ARCHAISTIC ARTEMIS (NAPLES). p. f> 4 . ARCHAISTIC BRONZE APOLLO (AT NAFI.I S). V. 65. in.] ATHENS, THE MUSEUMS. 65 can be found on hundreds of vases, because vase- making being rather a trade than an art, men kept close to the old models long after great sculptors and painters had, like Polygnotus, began to depart from the antique stiffness of the countenance. 1 The Artemis before us has, however, these very fea- tures, which are very clear when we can see her in profile. But the head-dress and draping are ela- borate, and though formal and somewhat stiff, not wanting in grace. The pose of the arms is stiff, and the attitude that of a woman stepping forward, which is very usual in archaic figures — I suppose because it enlarged the base of the statue, and made it stand more firmly in its place. The absence of any girdle, or delaying fold in the garments is one of the most marked contrasts with the later draping of such figures. Passing on to the Apollo, we notice a much greater development of freedom as to the treatment of the face, which, without being very handsome and well formed, is certainly not ugly. But the heavy hair and long curls are distinctly in the antique style, and the proportions of the figure are much shorter and stouter than later Greeks or than we should consider graceful. The style of this statue, however, though differing in many special propor- tions, reminds us strongly of the ^Eginetan marbles in Munich, and so leads us from archaic stiffness into the true period of beauty and of perfection. 1 ' Vultum ab antiquo rigore variare.' — Plin. xxxv. 35. F 66 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. This greater age is represented in the museums of Athens chiefly through the reliefs of the Parthenon, which I mean to consider separately, through the statue of the athlete already noted, and through many beautiful fragments, so mutilated that they can hardly be used as illustrations. We shall, therefore, do well to go out of the museums to the street of tombs, where we can find such material as the world can hardly equal, and in such condition as to be easily intelligible. What I have said of the museums is, doubtless, disap- pointing, as, indeed, it should be, if the feeling of the visitor is to be faithfully reproduced. But I must not fail to add, before turning to other places, that, in inscriptions, these museums are very rich, as well as also in Attic vases, and lamps, and other articles of great importance in our estimate of old Greek life. The professors of the University have been particularly diligent in deciphering and ex- plaining the inscriptions, and with the aid of the Germans, who have collected, and are still collect- ing, these scattered documents in a complete publi- cation, we are daily having new light thrown upon Greek history. Thus Kohler has been able from the recovered Attic tribute-lists to construct a map of the Athenian maritime empire with its depen- dencies, which tells the student more in five minutes than hours' laborious reading. The study of vases and lamps is beyond my present scope ; and the former so wide and important a subject, in.] A THENS, THE MUSE UMS. 67 that it cannot be mastered without vast study and trouble. I pass, therefore, from the museums to the street of tombs, which Thucydides tells us to find in the fairest suburb of the city, as we go out westward towards the graves of Academe, and before we turn slightly to the south on our way to the Peiraeus. Thucydides has described with some care the funeral ceremonies held in this famous place, and has composed for us a very noble funeral oration, which he has put in the mouth of Pericles. 1 It is with this oration, probably the finest passage in Thucydides' great history, in our minds, that we approach the avenue where the Athenians laid their dead. We have to pass through the most mean and miserable portion of modern Athens, through wretched bazaars and dirty markets, which abut upon the main street, through which we walk. Amid all this squalor and poverty, all this complete denial of art and leisure, there are still features which faintly echo old Greek life. There is the bright colour of the dresses — the pre- dominance of white, and red, and blue, of which the 1 These panegyrics, \6yoi iiriTatploi they were called, were a favourite exercise of Greek literary men. There are four still extant — that men- tioned, that in the Menexenus of Plato, and the iiriraQloi of Lysias, and of Hypereides. That of Hypereides, very mutilated as it is, seems to me the finest next to that of Thucydides. But they are all built upon the same lines, showing even here that strict conservatism in every branch of Greek art which never varied, for variety's sake, from. ^ type once recognised as really good. F 2 68 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. old Athenians were so fond ; and there is among the lowest classes a great deal of that striking beauty which recals to us the old statues. More especially in the form of the head, and in the expression, of the children, we see types not to be found elsewhere in Europe, and which, if not derived from classical Greece, are at all events very beautiful. We then come on to the railway station, which is, indeed, in this place, as elsewhere, very offensive. With its grimy smoke, its shrill sounds, and all its other hard unloveliness, it is not a meet neigh- bour for the tombs of the old Greeks, situate close to it on all sides. They lie — as almost all old ruins do — far below the present level of the ground, and have, there- fore, to be exhumed by careful digging. When this has been done, they are covered with a rude door, to protect their sculptured face ; and when I saw them, were standing about, without any order or regularity, close to the spots where they had been found. A proper estimate of these tombs cannot be at- tained without knowing clearly the feelings with which the survivors set them up. And upon this point we have not only the general attitude of Greek literature on the all-important question of the state of man after death, but we have also thousands of inscriptions upon tombs, both with and without sculptured reliefs, from which we can form a very sure opinion about the feelings of the bereaved in these bygone days. OM1! IN THE CERAMEICUS (ATHENS). V. 69. III.] ATHENS— THE TOMBS. 69 We know from Honfer and from Mimnermus that in the earlier periods, though the Greeks were un- able to shake off a belief in life after death, yet they could not conceive that state as anything but a shadowy and wretched echo of the real life upon earth. It was a gloomy and dark existence, bur- dened with the memory of lost happiness and the longing for lost enjoyment. To the Homeric Greeks their death was a dark, unavoidable fate, without hope and without reward. It is, indeed, true that we find in Pindar thoughts and aspira- tions of a very different kind. We have in the fragments of his poetry which remain to us more than one passage asserting the reward of the just, and the splendours of a future life far happier than that which we now enjoy. But, notwithstanding these splendid visions, such high expectation laid no hold upon the imagination of the Greek world. The poems of Pindar, we are told, soon ceased to be popular, and his utterances are but a streak of light amid general gloom. The kingdom of the dead in ^Eschylus is evidently, as in Homer, but a weary echo of this life, where honour can only be attained by the pious memory of attached relations, whose duty paid to the dead affects him in his gloomier state, and raises him in the esteem of his less-remembered fellows. Sophocles says nothing to clear away the night ; nay, rather his last and maturest contemplation regards death as the worst of ills to the happy man — a sorry refuge to the 70 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. miserable. Euripides longs -that there may be no future state, and Plato only secures the immortality of the soul by severing it from the person — the man, and all his interests. It is plain, from these evidences, that the Greeks must have looked upon the death of those they loved with unmixed sorrow. It was the final part- ing, when all the good and pleasant things are remembered. Men seek, as it were, to increase the pang, by clothing the dead in all his sweetest and dearest presence. But this was not done by pompous inscriptions, nor by a vain enumeration of all the deceased had performed — inscriptions which, among us, tell more of the vanity than of the grief of the survivors. The commonest epitaph was a simple x a ' 0f > or farewell ; and it is this simple word, so full and deep in its meaning to those who love, which is pictured in the reliefs of which I am now speaking. They are simple part- ing scenes, expressing the grief of the survivors,, and the true, simple grief of the sufferer, who is going to his long home. But what strikes us most forcibly in these remarkable monuments, is the chastened, modest expression of grief which they express. There is no violence, no despair, no exag- geration — all is simple and noble ; thus combining purity of art with a far deeper pathos — a far nobler grief — than the exaggerated paintings and sculp- tures which seek to express mourning in later and less cultivated ages. We may defy any art to- in.] ATHENS— THE TOMBS. 71 produce truer or more poignant pictures of real sorrow — a sorrow, as I have explained, far deeper and more hopeless, than any Christian sorrow ; and yet there is no wringing of hands, no swoon- ing, no defacing with sack-cloth and ashes. Some- times, indeed, as in the celebrated tomb of Dexileos, a mere portrait of the dead in active life was put upon his tomb, and private grief would not assert itself in presence of the record of his public services. I know not that any remnants of Greek art bring home to us more plainly one of its eternal and divine features — or shall I rather say, one of its eternal and human features ? — the greatest, if not the main feature, which has made it the ever new and everlasting lawgiver to men in their struggles to represent the ideal. If I am to permit myself any digression whatever, surely we cannot do better than to conclude this chapter with some reflections on so important a subject, and we may, therefore, turn, by suggestion of the Athenian tombs, to a few general reflections on the reserve of Greek art : I mean the reserve in displaying emotion, in staying the fierce outburst of joy or grief; and again, the reserve more generally in exhibiting peculiar or personal features, passing interests, or momentary emotions. In a philosophy now well nigh extinct, but which once commanded no small attention, Adam Smith was led to analyse the indirect effects of sympathy, from which, as a single principle, he desired to 72 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. deduce all the rules of ethics. While straining many points unduly, he must be confessed to have explained with great justice the origin of good taste or tact in ordinary life, which he saw to be the careful watching of the interest of others in our own affairs, and the feeling that we must not force upon them what interests ourselves, except we are sure to carry with us their active sympathy. Good breeding, he says, consists in a delicate perception how far this will go, and in suppressing those of our feelings which, though they affect us strongly, cannot be expected to affect our neighbour in like manner. His sympathy should be the measure and limit of our out-spokenness. There can be no doubt that whatever other elements come in, this analysis is true, so far as it goes, and recommends itself at once to the convictions of any educated man. The very same principle applies still more strongly and universally in art. Just as tragedy is bound to treat ideal griefs and joys, of so large and broad a kind, that every spectator may merge in it his petty woes, so ideal sculpture and painting is only ideal, if it represent such large and eternal fea- tures in human nature as must always command the sympathy of every pure human heart. Let us dispose at once of an apparent excep- tion — the mediaeval pictures of the Passion of Christ, and the sorrows of the Virgin Mary. Here the artist allowed himself the most extreme treatment, because the objects were necessarily the centre of in.] ATHENS— THE TOMBS. 73 the very highest sympathy. No expression of the grief of Christ could be thought exaggerated in the Middle Ages, because in this very exaggera- tion lay the centre point of men's religion. But when no such object of universal and all-absorb- ing sympathy can be found (and there was none such in pagan life), then the Greek artist must attain by his treatment of the object what the Christian artist obtained by the object itself. As- suming, then, a mastery over his material, and suffi- cient power of execution, the next feature to be looked for in Greek art, and especially in Greek sculpture, is a certain modesty and reserve in ex- pression, which will not portray slight defects in picturing a man, but represent eternal and ideal character in him, which remains in the memory of men when he is gone. Such, for example, is our famous portrait of Sophocles. Such are also all that great series of ideal figures which meet us in the galleries of ancient art. They seldom show us any violent emotion ; they are seldom even in so special an attitude, that critics cannot interpret it in several different ways, or as suitable to several myths. It is not passing states of feeling, but the eternal and ideal beauty of human nature, which Greek sculpture seeks to represent ; and it is for this reason that it has held its sway over all the centuries which have since passed away. This was the calm art of Phidias, and Polycletus, and Polygnotus, in sentiment not 74 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. differing from the rigid awkwardness of their pre- decessors, but in mastery of proportions, and of difficulties attaining the grace in which the others had failed. To this general law there are, no doubt, exceptions, and perhaps very brilliant ones ; but they are exceptions, and even in them, if w T e con- sider them attentively, we can see the universal features, and the points of sympathy for all man- kind. But if, indeed, the appeal for sympathy is overstrained, then, however successful in its own society, and its own social atmosphere, the work of art loses power in another generation. Thus the tragic poet Euripides, though justly considered in his own society the most tragic of poets, has for this very reason ceased to appeal to us as^Eschylus has always done. He kept within the proper bounds dictated by the reserve of art ; Euripides often did not, and his work, though great and full of genius, suffered accordingly. It seems to me that the tombs before us are remarkable in observing, with the tact of genius, this true and perfect reserve. They are simple pictures of the grief of parting — of the recollection of pleasant days of love and friendship — of the gloom of the unknown future. But there is no exaggeration, nor speciality, no individuality, I had almost said, in the picture. I feel no curiosity to inquire who these people are — what were their names — even what was the relationship of the deceased. For I am perfectly satisfied with an in.] ATHENS— THE TOMBS. 75 ideal portrait of the grief of parting — a grief that comes to us all, and lays bitter hold of us at some season of life ; and it is this universal sorrow — this great common flaw in all our lives — which the Greek artist has brought before us, and which calls forth our deepest sympathy. There will be future occasion to come back upon this all-important feature in art in connexion with the action in Greek sculpture, and even with the draping of their statues — in all of which the calm and chaste reserve of the better Greek art contrasts strangely with the Michael Angelos, and Berninis, and Ca- novas of other days ; nay, even with the Greek sculpture of a no less brilliant, but less refined age. But, in concluding this chapter, I will call atten- tion to a modern parallel in the portraiture of grief, and of grief at final parting. This parallel is not a piece of sculpture, but a poem, perhaps the most remarkable poem of our generation — the In Me- moriam of Tennyson. Though written apparently from personal feeling, and to commemorate a spe- cial person — Arthur Hallam — whom some of us even knew, this poem has justly laid hold of the imagination of men strongly and lastingly ; and why ? Is it owing to the poet's special loss ? Cer- tainly not. I do not even think that this great dirge — this magnificent funeral poem — has excited in us the least interest in Arthur Hallam. I will con- fess that to me he appeared nothing more after I knew the poem than he was before. In fact, any 7 6 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. other friend of the poet's would have suited the general reader equally well, as the exciting cause of a poem, which we delight in, because it puts into great poetry those ever-recurring permanent features in such grief; those dark longings about the future — those suggestions of despair ; of discon- tent in the providence of the world ; of wild specula- tion about its laws ; and the struggle to reconcile our own loss, and that of the human race, with some larger law of wisdom and of benevolence. To the poet, of course, his own particular friend was the great centre point of the poem. But to us, in read- ing it, there is a wide distinction between the per- sonal passages — I mean those which give family details, and special circumstances in Hallam's life, and his intimacy with the poet — and the truly poetical or artistic passages, which soar away into a region far above all special detail, and sing of the great gloom which hangs over the future, and of the vehement beating of the human soul against the bars of its prison home, where one is taken, and another left, not merely at apparent random, but with apparent injustice and damage to mankind. Hence, every man in grief for a lost friend will read the poem to his great comfort, and will then only see clearly what it means ; and he will find it speak to him specially and particularly, not in its personal passages, but in its general features ; in its hard me- taphysics ; in its mystical theology ; in its angry and uncertain ethics. For even the commonest mind is in.] ATHENS— THE TOMBS. 77 forced by grief out of its commonness, and attacks the world-problems, which at other times it has no power or taste to approach. By this illustration, then, the distinction between the universal and the personal features of grief can be clearly seen; and the reader will admit that, though it would be most unreasonable to dictate to the poet, or to imagine that he should have omitted the stanzas which refer specially to his friend, and which were to him of vital importance, yet to us it is no loss to forget that name and those circum- stances, and hold fast to the really eternal, and because eternal, really artistic features in that very noble symphony, shall I say of half-resolved dis- cords, or of suspended harmonies, which faith may reconcile, but which reason can hardly analyse or understand ? Within a few minutes 5 walk of these splendid re- cords of the illustrious dead the traveller who leaves the Piraeus road, and returns to the town across the Observatory Hill, will find a very different cemetery. For here he suddenly comes up to a long cleft in the rock, running parallel with the road below, and therefore quite invisible from it. The rising'ground towards the city hides it equally from the Acropolis, and accordingly from all Athens. This gorge, some 100. yards long, 25 wide, and about 30 feet deep, is the notorious Barathrum, the place of execution in old days ; the place where criminals were cast out, and where the public executioner resided. It has been falsely inferred by the old scholiasts that the 78 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. Athenians cast men alive into the pit. It is not nearly deep enough now to cause death in this way, and there seems no reason that its original depth should have been diminished by any accu- mulation of rubbish, such as is common on in- habited sites. 'Casting into the Barathrum/ referred rather to the refusing the rites of burial to executed criminals — an additional disgrace, and to the Greeks a grave additional penalty. The honour among the dead was held to follow in exact proportion to the continued honours paid by sur- viving friends. Here, then, out of view of all the temples and hallowed sites of the city dwelt the public slave, with his instruments of death, perhaps in a cave or grotto, still to be seen in the higher wall of the gorge, and situated close to the point where an old path leads over the hill towards the city. Plato speaks of young men turning aside, as they came from Piraeus, to see the dead lying in charge of this official ; and there must have been times in the older history of Athens when this cleft in the rock was a place of carnage and of horror. The gentler law of later days seems to have felt this outrage on human feeling, and instead of casting the dead into the Barathrum, it was merely added to the sentence that the body should not be buried within the boundaries of Attica. 1 Yet, though the 1 This reasonable inference, which I had not made when writing my Social Greece (p. 267), was since pointed out to me by Mr. Hermann Hager, of Manchester, to whom I return my thanks. in.] ATHENS— THE TOMBS. 79 Barathrum may have been no longer used, the accursed gate (Upa irvXr}) still led to it from the city, and the old associations clung about its gloomy seclusion. Even in the last century, the Turks, whether acting from instinct, or led by old tradi- tion, still used it as a place of execution. In the present day, all traces of this hideous history have long passed away, and I found a little field of corn waving upon the level ground beneath, which had once been the Aceldama of Athens. But even now there seemed a certain loneliness and weirdness about the place — silent and deserted in the midst of thoroughfares, hidden from the haunts of men, and hiding them from view by its massive walls. Nay, as if to bring back the dark memories of the past, hawks and ravens were still circling about as their ancestors did in the days of blood ; attached, I suppose, by hereditary instinct to this fatal place, ' for where the carcase is, there shall the eagles be gathered together/ CHAPTER IV. THE ACROPOLIS OF ATHENS. I SUPPOSE there can be no doubt whatever that the ruins on the Acropolis of Athens are the most remarkable in the world. There are ruins far larger, such as the Pyramids, and the remains of Karnak. There are ruins far more perfectly pre- served, such as the great Temple at Paestum. There are ruins more picturesque, such as the ivy- clad walls of mediaeval abbeys beside the rivers in the rich valleys of England. But there is no ruin all the world over which combines so much strik- ing beauty, so distinct a type, so vast a volume of history, so great a pageant of immortal memories. There is, in fact, no building on earth which can sustain the burden of such greatness, and so the first visit to the Acropolis is and must be disap- pointing. When the traveller reflects how all the Old World's culture culminated in Greece — all Greece in Athens — all Athens in its Acropolis — all the Acro- polis in the Parthenon — so much crowds upon the mind confusedly that we look for some enduring monument whereupon we can fasten our minds, iv.] ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 81 and from which we can pass as from a visible starting-point into all this history and all this great- ness. And at first we look in vain. The shattered pillars and the torn pediments will not bear so great a strain : and the traveller feels forced to admit a sense of disappointment, sore against his will. He has come a long journey into the remoter parts of Europe; he has reached at last what his soul had longed for many years in vain : and as is wont to be the case with all great human long- ings, the truth does not answer to his desire. The pang of disappointment is all the greater when he sees that the tooth of time and the shock of earth- quake had done but little harm. It is the hand of man — of reckless foe and ruthless lover — which has robbed him of his hope. This is the feeling, I am sure, of more than have confessed it, when they first wound their way through the fields of great blue aloes, and passed up through the Propylaea into the presence of the Parthenon. 1 But to those who have not given way to these feelings — who have gone again and again and sat upon the rock, and watched the ruins in every hour of the day, and in the brightness of a moonlight night — to those who have dwelt among them, and meditated upon them with love and awe — there first come back the remembered glories of Athens' greatness, 1 I am bound to add, that very competent observers, among others Professor Sayce, have not felt this disappointment. G 82 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. when Olympian Pericles stood upon this rock with care-worn Phidias, and reckless Alcibiades with pious Nicias, and fervent Demosthenes with caustic Phocion — when these and one hundred others peopled those temples in their worship, and all the fluted pillars and sculptured friezes were bright with scarlet, and blue, and gold. And then the glory of remembered history casts its hue over the war-stained remnants. Every touch of human hand, every fluting, and drop, and triglyph, and cornice, recals the master minds who produced this splendour ; and so at last we tear ourselves from it as from a thing of beauty, which even now we can never know, and love, and meditate upon to our earts 5 content. Nothing is more vexatious than the reflection, how lately these splendid remains have been re- duced to their present state. The Parthenon, being used as a Greek church, remained untouched and perfect all through the Middle Ages. Then it be- came a mosque, and the Erechtheum a seraglio, and in this way survived without damage till 1687, when in the bombardment by the Venetians under Morosini a shell dropped into the Parthenon, where the Turks had their powder stored, and blew out the whole centre of the building. Eight or nine pillars at each side have been thrown down, and have left a large gap, which so severs the front and rear of the temple, that from the city below they look like the remains of two different buildings. v.] ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 83 rhe great drums of these pillars are yet lying there, n their order, just as they fell, and a little money md care could set them all up again in their Dlaces ; yet there is not in Greece the patriotism or 3ven the common sense to enrich the country by ;his restoration, matchless in its certainty, as well is in its splendour. But the Venetians were not content with their exploit. They were, about this time, when they leld possession of most of Greece, emulating the Pisan taste for Greek sculptures, and the four ine lions standing at the gate of the arsenal n Venice still testify to their zeal in carry- ng home Greek trophies to adorn their capital. Morosini wished to take down the sculptures of Phidias from one of the pediments, but his work- men attempted it so clumsily, that the figures fell Tom their place, and were dashed to pieces on the ground. The Italians left their final mark on the place by building a high square tower of wretched patched masonry at the right side of the entrance ^•ate, which has of late years become such an eyesore to the better educated public, that when I was at Athens there was a subscription on foot to have it :aken down — a good deed, which will not only remove a most offensive reminiscence of the in- truders, but which ought to bring to light some pillars of the Propylaea built into it, as well as many inscribed stones, broken off and carried away G 2 84 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. from their places as building material. 1 The Turks, according" to Dodwell, who is a most trust- worthy witness, never destroyed the old buildings except they wanted them for masonry. He tells us not to believe that the figures of the remaining pediment were used as targets by the Turkish soldiers — a statement often made in his day. However that may be, I have little doubt, from what I saw myself, that Greek soldiers in the present day might do so. But the Turks did take down some pillars of the Propylaea while Dodwell was there, for building purposes, an occurrence which gave that excellent ob- server the opportunity of noting the old Greek way of fitting the drums of the pillars together. He even got into his possession one of the pieces of cypress wood used as plugs between the stone masses. But the same traveller was also present when a far more determined and systematic attack was made upon the remaining ruins of the Parthe- non. While he was travelling in the interior, Lord Elgin had obtained his famous firman from the Sultan, to take down and remove any antiquities or 1 This expectation has not been verified by the results. I hear from Athens that the tower has been taken down by the liberality of M. Schliemann, and that as yet there have been hardly any inscriptions or sculptures discovered. But probably the ruins have not yet been thoroughly searched, and still more probably the workmen have secreted what they found, so as to sell it privately. J ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 85 sculptured stones he might require, and the infu- riated Dodwell saw a set of ignorant workmen, under equally ignorant overseers, let loose upon the splendid ruins of the age of Pericles. He speaks with much good sense and feeling of this proceeding. He is fully aware that the world would derive inestimable benefit from the trans- planting of these splendid fragments to an accessi- ble place, but he cannot find language strong enough to express his disgust at the way in which the thing was done. Incredible as it may appear, Lord Elgin himself seems not to have superin- tended the work, but to have left it to paid con- tractors, who undertook the job for a fixed sum. Little as either Turks or Greeks cared for the ruins, he says that a pang of grief was felt through all Athens at the desecration, and that the contractors were obliged to bribe workmen with additional wages to undertake the ungrateful task. Dodwell will not even mention Lord Elgin by name, but speaks of him with disgust as ' the person' who defaced the Parthenon. He believes that had this person been at Athens himself, his underlings •could hardly have behaved in the reckless way they did, pulling down more than they wanted, and taking no care to prop up and save the work from which they had taken the supports. He especially notices their scandalous proceeding upon taking up one of the great white marble blocks which form the floor or stylobate of the temple. 86 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. They wanted to see what was underneath, and Dodwell, who was there, saw the foundation — a substructure of Pirasic sandstone. But when they had finished their inspection they actually left the block they had removed, without putting it back into its place. So this beautiful pavement, made merely of closely-fitting blocks, without any artifi- cial or foreign joinings, was ripped up, and the work of its destruction begun. I am happy to add that, though a considerable rent was then made, most of it is still intact, and the traveller of to-day may still walk on the very stones which bore the tread of every great Athenian. The question has often been discussed, whether Lord Elgin was justified in carrying off this pedi- ment, the metopes, and the friezes, from their place, and the Greeks of to-day hope confidently that the day will come when England will restore these trea- sures to their place. This is, of course, absurd, and it may fairly be argued that people who would bom- bard their antiquities in a revolution are not fit cus- todians of them in the intervals of domestic quiet. This was my reply to an old Greek General who assailed the memory of Lord Elgin with reproaches. I told him that I was credibly informed the Greeks had themselves bombarded the Turks in the Acro- polis during the war of liberation, as several great pieces knocked out and starred on the western front testify. He confessed, to my amusement, that he had himself been one of the assailants, and excused iv.] ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 87 the act by the necessities of war. I replied that, as the country seemed always on the verge of a revo- lution, the sculptures might at least remain in the British Museum until a secure government was established. And this is the general verdict of learned men on the matter. They are agreed that it was on the whole a gain to science, and a justi- fiable act, to remove the figures, but all stigmatise as barbarous and shameful the reckless way in which the work was carried out. I confess I agreed with this judgment until I came home from Greece, and went to see the spoil in its place in our great Museum. Though there treated with every care — though shown to the best advantage, and explained by excel- lent models of the whole building, and clear descriptions of their place on it — notwithstand- ing all this I found that these wonderful fragments lost so terribly by being separated from their place — they looked so unmeaning in an English room, away from their temple, their country, and their lovely atmosphere — that I earnestly wished they had never been taken from their place, even at the risk of being made a target by the Greeks or the Turks. I am convinced, too, that the few who would have seen them, as intelligent travellers, on their famous rock, would have gained in quality the advantage now diffused among many, but weakened and almost destroyed by the wrench in associations, when the ornament is severed from its surface, and 88 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. the decoration of a temple exhibited apart from the temple itself. I think, then, that it had been better if Lord Elgin had never taken away these marbles. I repeat that it would be absurd to send them bqpk. There are now a large number of pil- lars of the Parthenon lying on the ground, which were thrown down by the explosion of 1687. The great drums, as I before said, are all lying in their places, just as they fell ; and all that is required to set them up again, and so unite the fore and aft parts of the temple, now severed by a huge gap, is a little money and a little labour. The Greek na- tion have never attempted even this. But were the Elgin marbles sent back to the Greeks, they would merely put them by in one of their gaunt, ill- arranged, uncatalogued museums. I need hardly say that the British Museum is a far nobler and more worthy resting-place for them than such an exile. There are, indeed, preserved in the little museum on the Acropolis the broken remains of the figures of the eastern pediment, which Morosini and his Venetians endeavoured to take down, as I have already told. But they are little more than pieces of drapery, of some use in reconstructing the com- position, but of none in judging the effect of that famous group. But we must not yet enter into this little museum, which is most properly put out of sight, at the lowest or east corner of the rock, and which we do not iv.] ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 89 reach till we have passed through all the ruins. As the traveller stands at the inner gate of the Propylaea, he notices at once all the perfect features of the ruins. Over his head are the enormous archi- traves of the Propylaea — blocks of white marble over 22 feet long, which spanned the gateway from pillar to pillar. Opposite, above him, and a little to the right, is the mighty Parthenon, not identical in orientation, as the architects have observed, with the gateway, but so varying from it slightly that sun and shade would play upon it at moments differing from the rest, and thus produce a perpe- tual variety of lights. This principle is observed in the setting of the Erechtheum also. To the left, and directly over the town, stands that beautifully- decorated little Ionic temple, or combination of temples, with the stately Caryatids looking inwards and towards the Parthenon. These two buildings are the most perfect examples we have of their respective styles. We see the objects of the artists who built them at first sight. The one is the em- bodiment of majesty, the other of grace. The very ornaments of the Parthenon are large and massive ; those of the Erechtheum for the most part intricate and delicate. Thus the Parthenon is in the Doric style, or rather in the Doric style so refined and adorned as to be properly called the Attic style. For the more we study the old Athenian art — nay, even old Athenian character generally — the more -are we convinced that its greatness consists in 9 o RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. the combination of Doric sternness and Ionic grace. It is hardly a mediation between them ; it is the adoption of the finer elements of both, and the union of them into a higher harmony. The most obvious illustration of this is the drama, where the Ionic element of recitation and the Doric choral Itymn w T ere combined — and let me observe that the Ionic element was more modified than the Doric. In the same way Attic architecture used the strength and majesty of the older style which w r e see at Corinth and Psestum; but relieved it partly by lighter proportions, partly by rich decorations, which gave the nearer observer an additional and different delight, while from afar the large features were of the old Doric majesty. Even in the separate deco- rations, such as the metopes and friezes, the graceful women and the long-flowing draperies of the Ionic school were combined with the muscular nakedness of the Doric athlete, as represented by Doric mas- ters. Individual Attic masters worked out these contrasted types completely, as w r e may see by the Discobolus of Myron, a contemporary of Phidias,, and the Apollo Musagetes of Scopas, who lived somewhat later. In fact, all Athenian character, in its best days, combined the versatility, and luxury, and fondness of pleasure, which marked the Ionian, w T ith the energy, the public spirit, and the simplicity w T hich was said to mark the better Doric states. The Parthenon and Erechtheum express all this in visi- iv.] A THENS—THE A CROPOLIS. 9 1 ble clearness. The Athenians felt that the Ionic elegance and luxury of style was best suited to a small building ; and so they lavished ornament and colour upon this beautiful little building, but made the Doric temple the main object of all the sacred height. It is worth while to consult the professional architects, like Revett, 1 who have examined these buildings with a critical eye. Not only were the old Athenian architects perfect masters of their materials, of accurate measurement, of precise correspondences, of all calculations as to strain and pressure — they even for artistic, as well as for practical, purposes, deviated systematically from accuracy, in order that the harmony of the building might profit by this imperceptible dis- cord. • They gave and took, like a tuner temper- ing the strings of a musical instrument. The stylobate is not exactly level, but raised four inches in the centre : the pillars are not set per- pendicularly, but with a slight incline inwards : the separation of the pillars is less at the corners, and gradually increases as you approach the centre of the building. It is not my province to go into minute details on such points, which can only be adequately discussed by architects. What I have here to note is, that the old Greek builders had 1 The splendid work of Michaelis is probably the most complete and critical account both of the plan and the details, which have often been published, especially and with great accuracy by Penrose. iv.] ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 93 Poseidon for the patronage of Athens. Some of the figures from one of these are the great draped, head- less women in the centre of the Parthenon room of the British Museum : other fragments of those broken by the Venetians are preserved at Athens. There are, secondly, the metopes, or plaques of stone inserted into the frieze between the triglyphs, and carved in relief with a single small group on each. The height of these surfaces does not exceed four feet. There was, thirdly, a band of reliefs running all round the external wall of the cella, inside the surrounding pillars, and oppo- site to them, and this is known as the frieze of the cella. It consists of a great Panathenaic procession, starting from the western front, and proceeding in two divisions along the parallel north and south walls, till they meet on the eastern front, which was the proper front of the temple. Among the Elgin marbles there are a good many of the met- opes, and also of the pieces of the cella frieze, preserved. Several other pieces of the frieze are preserved at Athens, and altogether we can recon- struct fully three-fourths of this magnificent com- position. There seems to me the greatest possible dif- ference in merit between the metopes and the other two parts of the ornament. The majority of the metopes which I have seen represent either a Greek and an Amazon, or a Centaur and Lapith in violent conflict. It appeared plainly to me 94 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. that the main object of these contorted groups was to break in upon the squareness and straight- ness of all the other members of the Doric frieze and architrave. This is admirably done, as there is no conceivable design which more completely breaks the stiff rectangles of -the entablature than the various and violent curves of wrestling figures. But, otherwise, these groups do not appear to me very interesting, except so far as everything in such a place, and the work of such hands, must be interesting. It is very different with the others. Of these the pediment sculptures, which were, of course, the most important, and which were probably the finest groups ever designed, are so much destroyed or mutilated, that the effect of the composition is entirely lost, and we can only admire the match- less power and grace of the torsos which remain. The grouping of the figures was limited, and in- dicated by the triangular shape of the surface to be decorated — standing figures occupying the centre, while recumbent or stooping figures occu- pied the ends. But, as in poetry, where the shackles of rhyme and metre, which encumber the thoughts of ordinary writers, are the very source which pro- duces in the true poet the highest and most precious beauties of expression ; so in sculpture and paint- ing, fixed conditions seem not to injure, but to enhance and perfect, the beauty and symmetry attainable in the highest art. We have apparently iv.] ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 95 in the famous Niobe group, preserved in Florence, the elements of a similar composition, perhaps in- tended to fill the triangular tympanum of a temple; and even in these weak Roman copies of a Greek masterpiece we can see how beautifully the limited space given to the. sculptor determined the beauty and variety of the figures, and their attitudes. It was in this genius of grouping that I fancy Phidias chiefly excelled all his contemporaries : single statues of Polycleitus are said to have . been pre- ferred in competitions. To us the art of the Disco- bolus of Myron seems fully as great as that of any of the figures of the Parthenon ; but no other artist seems to have possessed the architectonic power of adapting large subjects and processions of figures to their places like Phidias. How far he was helped or advised by Ictinus, or even by Pericles, it is not easy to say. But I do not fancy that Greek statesmen in those days studied everything else in the world besides statecraft, and were known as an- tiquarians, and linguists, and connoisseurs of china and paintings, and theologians, and novelists — in fact, everything under the sun. This many- sidedness, as they now call it, which the Greeks called woXvirpayfioavvr}, and thought to be meddle- someness, was not likely to infect Pericles. He was very intimate with Phidias, and is said to have constantly watched his work, hardly I fancy, as an adviser, but rather as an humble and enthusiastic admirer of an art which did realise its ideal, while o6 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. he himself was striving in vain with rebel forces to attain his object in politics. The extraordinary power of grouping in the designs of Phidias is, however, very completely shown us in the better preserved band of the cella frieze, along which the splendid Panathenaic pro- cession winds its triumphal way. Over the eastern doorway were twelve noble sitting figures on either side of the officiating priest, presenting the state robe, or peplos, for the vestment of Athene. These figures are explained as gods by the critics; but they do not, in either beauty or dignity, excel those of many of the Athenians forming the pro- cession. A very fine slab, containing three of these figures, is now to be seen in the little museum in the Acropolis. This group over the main entrance is the end and summary of all the procession, and corresponds with the yearly ceremony in this way, that, as the state en- trance, or Propylaea, led into the Acropolis at the west end, or rear of the Parthenon, the procession in all probability separated into two, which went along both sides of the colonnade, and met again at the eastern door. Accordingly, over the western end, or rear, the first prepa- rations of the procession are being made, which then starts along the north and south walls, the southern being chiefly occupied with the ca- valcade of the Athenian knights, the northern with the carrying of sacred vessels, and leading of victims for the sacrifice. iv.] ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 97 The greater number of the pieces carried away by Lord Elgin seems taken from the equestrian portion in which groups of cantering and cur- veting horses, men in the act of mounting, and striving to curb restive steeds, are brought to- gether with extraordinary effect. We can see plainly how important a part of Athenian splen- dour depended upon their knights, and how true the hints of Aristophanes are about their social standing, and aristocratic tone. The reins and armour, or at least portions of it, were laid on in metal, and have accordingly been long since plun- dered, nor has any obvious trace remained of the rich colours with which the whole was painted. There appears no systematic uniform, some of the riders being dressed in helmets and cuirasses, some in felt wide-awakes, and short-flying cloaks. It must re- main uncertain whether the artist did not seek to obtain variety by this deviation from a fixed dress. There can be no doubt that Greek art was very bold and free in such matters. On the other hand, the type of the faces does not exhibit much variety. At the elevation above the spectator which this frieze occu- pied, individual expression would have been thrown away on figures of three feet in height : the ge- neral dress, and the attitudes, were, on the con- trary, plainly and easily discernible. But I confess that this equestrian procession does not appear to me so beautiful as the rows of figures on foot, carrying pitchers and other imple- H 9 8 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. ments, leading victims, and playing pipes, which seem to come from the north wall, and of which the most beautiful slabs are preserved at Athens. Here we can see best of all that peculiar stamp which shows the age of Phidias to have been the most perfect in the whole of Greek sculpture. This statement will not be accepted readily by the general public. The Apollo Belvedere, the Capito- line Venus, the Dying Gladiator — these are what we have been always taught to regard as the greatest wonders of Greek glyptic art ; and those who have accustomed themselves to this rich and sensuous beauty will not easily see the greatness and the perfection of the solemn and chaste art of Phidias. Nevertheless, it will always be held by men who have thought long enough on the subject, that the epoch when Myron and Phidias, Poly- cleitus and Polygnotus, broke loose from archaic stiffness into flowing grace was, indeed, the climax of the arts. There seems a sort of natural law — of slow and painful origin — of growing development — of sudden bloom into perfection — of luxury and effeminacy — of gradual debasement and decay — which affects almost all the arts as well as most of the growths of nature. In Greek art particularly this phenomenon perpetually reappears. There can be little doubt that the Iliad of Homer was the first and earliest long creation in poetry, the first attempt, possibly with the aid of writing, to rise from short disconnected lays to the greatness of a iv.] ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 99 formal epic. And despite all its defects of plan, its want of firm consistency, and its obvious incon- gruities, this greatest of all poems has held its place against the more finished and interesting Odyssey, the more elaborated Cyclic poems, the more learned Alexandrian epics — in fact, the first full bloom of the art was by far the most perfect. It is the same thing with Greek tragedy. No sooner had the art escaped from the rude waggon, or whatever it was, of Thespis, than we find ^Eschylus, with im- perfect appliances, with want of experience, with many crudenesses and defects, a tragic poet never equalled again in Greek history. Of course the modern critics of his own country preferred, first Sophocles, and then Euripides — great poets, as Praxiteles and Lysippus were great sculptors, and like them, perhaps, greater masters of human pas- sion and of soul-stirring pathos. But for all that, ^Eschylus is the tragic poet of the Greeks — the poet who has reached beyond his age and nation, and fascinated the greatest men even of our century, who seek not to turn back upon his great but not equal rivals. Shelley and Swinburne have both made ^Eschylus their master, and to his inspiration owe the most splendid of their works. I will not prosecute these considerations further, though there are many other examples to be found in the history of art. But I will say this much con- cerning the psychological reasons of so strange a phenomenon. It may, of course, be assumed that H 2 ioo RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. the man who breaks through the old stiff conven- tional style which has bound his predecessors with its shackles, is necessarily a man of strong and ori- ginal genius. Thus, when we are distinctly told of Polygnotus that he first began to vary the features of the human face from their archaic stiffness, we have before us a man of bold originality, who quarreled with the tradition of centuries, and probably set against him all the prejudices and the consciences of the graver public. But to us, far different features seem prominent. For in spite of all his boldness, when we compare him with his forerunners, we are struck with his modesty and devoutness, as com- pared with his successors. For there is in him, first,, a devoutness towards his work, an old-fashioned piety, which they had not ; and as art in this shape is almost always a handmaid of religion, this de- voutness is a prominent feature. Next, there is a certain reticence and modesty in such a man, which arises partly from the former feeling, but still more from a conservative fear of violent change, and a healthy desire to make his work not merely a con- trast to, but a development of, the older traditions. Then the old draped goddess of religious days, such as the Venus Ge7titrix in Florence, made way for the splendid but yet more human handling, which we may see in the Venus of Melos, now in the Louvre. This half-draped but yet thoroughly new and chaste conception leads naturally to the type said to have been first dared by Praxiteles, iv.] ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 101 who did not disguise the use of very unworthy human models to produce his famous, or perhaps infamous ideal, which is best known in the Venus de Medici^ but more perfectly represented in the Venus of the Capitol. There is, too, in the earlier artist that limited mastery over materials, which, like the laws of the poet's language, only condenses and intensifies the beauty of his work. Such reserve, as compared with the later phases of the art, is nowhere so strongly shown as in the matter of expression. This is, indeed, the rock on which most arts have ultimately ship- wrecked. When the power over materials and effects becomes complete, so that the artist can as it were perform feats of conquest over them ; when at the same time the feeling has died out that he is treading upon holy ground, we have splendid achievements in the way of exceeding ex- pression, whether physical or mental, of force, of momentary transition, of grief or joy, which are good and great, but which lead imitators into a false track, and so ruin the art which they thought to perfect. Thus overreaching itself, art becomes an anxious striving after display, and, like an affected and meretricious woman, repels the sounder natures, which had else been attracted by her beauty. In Greek art especially, as I have already noticed in discussing the Attic tomb reliefs, this excess of ■expression was long and well avoided, and there is no stronger and more marked feature in its good io2 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. epochs than the reserve of which I have spoken. It is the chief quality which makes the work of Phidias matchless. There is beauty in it of form, there is a good deal of action, there is in the frieze an almost endless variety; but withal there is the strictest symmetry, the closest adherence to fixed types, the absence of all attempt at expressing" passing emotion. There is still the flavour of the old stiff simplicity about the faces, about the folds of the robes, about the type of the horses ; but the feeling of the artist shines through the archaic simplicity with much clearer light than it does in the more ambitious attempts of the later school. The greatest works of Phidias — his statue of Zeus at Elis, and his Athene in the Parthenon — are lost to us ; but the ancients are unanimous that for simple and sustained majesty no succeeding sculptor, how- ever brilliant, had approached his ideal. We may say almost the same of the great temple which he adorned with his genius. It is just that perfection of the Doric temple which has escaped from the somewhat ponderous massiveness and simplicity of the older architecture, while it sacri- ficed no element of majesty to that grace and deli- cacy which marks later and more developed Greek architecture. On this Acropolis the Athenians determined to show what architecture could reach in majesty, and what in delicacy. So they set up the Parthenon in that absolute perfection whose strength and solidity come out clearly shown, but iv.] ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 103 in no way overlaid, with ornament. They also built the Erechtheum, where they adopted the Ionic Order, and covered their entablature with bands of small and delicate tracing-, which, with its gilding and colouring, was a thing to be studied minutely, and from the nearest distance. It seems to me as if the Ionic Order was in their opinion not well suited for large, stately exteriors. Though the inner columns of the Propylaea were Ionic (and they were very large), it appears that large temples in that order were not known in Attica. But for small and graceful buildings it was commonly used, and of these the Erechtheum was the most perfect. In its great day, and even as Pausanias saw it, the Acropolis was covered with statues, as well as with shrines. It was not merely an Holy of Holies in religion ; it was also a palace and museum of art. At every step and turn the traveller met new- objects of interest. There were archaic specimens, chiefly interesting to the antiquarian and the devotee ; there were the great master-pieces which were the joint admiration of the artist and the vulgar. Even all the sides and slopes of the great rock were honeycombed into sacred grottos, with their altars and their gods, or studded with votive monuments. All these lesser things are fallen away and gone; the sacred caves are filled with rubbish, and desecrated with worse than neglect. The grotto of Pan and Apollo is difficult of access, io 4 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. and when reached, the object of disgust rather than of interest. There are left but the remnants of the surrounding wall and the ruins of the three principal buildings, which were the envy and wonder of all the civilised world. I will venture to conclude this chapter with a curious comparison. It was my good fortune, a few months after I had seen the Acropolis, to visit a ruin in Ireland, which, to my great surprise, bore many curious resemblances to it — I mean the Rock of Cashel. Both were strongholds of religion — honoured and hallowed above all other places in their respective countries — both were covered with buildings of various dates, each representing their peculiar ages and styles in art. And as the Greeks, I suppose for effect's sake, have varied the posture of their temples, so that the sun illumines them at different moments, the old Irish have varied the orientation of their churches, that the sun might rise directly over against the east window on the anniversary of the patron saint. There is at Cashel the great Cathedral — in loftiness and grandeur the Parthenon of the place ; there is the smaller and more beautiful Cormac's Chapel, the holiest of all, like the Erechtheum of Athens. Again, the great sanctuary upon the Rock of Cashel was sur- rounded by a cluster of other abbeys about its base, which were founded there by pious men on account of the greatness and holiness of the archie- piscopal seat. Of these one remains, like the iv.] ATHENS— THE ACROPOLIS. 105 Theseum at Athens, eclipsed by the splendour of the Acropolis. The prospect from the Irish sanctuary has, indeed, endless contrasts to that from the Pagan strong- hold, but they are suggestive contrasts, and such as are not without a certain harmony. The plains around both are framed by mountains, of which the Irish are probably the more picturesque ; and if the light upon the Greek hills is the fairest, the native colour of the Irish is infinitely more rich. So, again, the soil of Attica is light and sandy, whereas the Golden Vale of Tipperary is among the richest in the world. But who would not choose the historic treasures of the former in preference to the bucolic value of the latter ? Still, both places were the noblest homes, each in their own country, of reli- gions which civilised, humanised, and exalted the human race; and if the Irish Acropolis is left in dim obscurity by the historical splendour of the Parthenon, on the other hand, the gods of the Athenian stronghold have faded out before the moral greatness of the faith preached upon the Rock of Cashel. CHAPTER V. EXCURSIONS IN ATTICA — PHALERUM — LAURIUM. When you stand on the Acropolis and look round upon Attica, a great part of its history becomes immediately clear and unravelled. You see at once that you are situate in the principal plain of the country, surrounded with chains of mountains in such a way that it is easy to understand the old stories of wars with Eleusis, or with Marathon, or with any of the outlying valleys. Looking inland on the north side, as you stand beside the Erech- theum, you see straight before you, at a distance of some ten miles, Mount Pentelicus, from which all the splendid marble was once carried to the rock around you. This Pentelicus is a sort of inter- mediate cross-chain between two main lines which diverge from either side of it, and gradually widen so as to form the plain of Athens. The left or north-western chain is Mount Parnes ; the right or eastern is Mount Hymettus. This latter, how- ever, is only the outer margin of a large moun- tainous tract, wmich spreads all over the rest of South Attica down to the Cape of Sunium. There ch. v.] EXCURSIONS IN A TTICA. 107 are, of course, little valleys, and two or three villages, one of them the old deme Brauron, which they now pronounce Vravron. There is the town of Thorikos, near the mines of Laurium ; there are two modern villages called Marcopoulos ; but on the whole, both in ancient and modern times, this south-eastern part of Attica, south of Hymettus, was, with the exception of Laurium, of little moment. There is a gap between Pentelicus and Hymettus, nearly due north, through which the way leads out to Marathon ; and you can see the spot where the bandits surprised in 1870 the unfor- tunate gentlemen who fell victims to the vacillation and incompetence of people in power at that time. On the left side of Pentelicus you see the chain of Parnes, which almost closes with it at a far distance, and which stretches down all the west side of Attica, till it runs into the sea as Mount Corydallus, opposite to the island of Salamis. In this long chain of Parnes (which can only be avoided by going up to the northern coast at Oropus, and passing into Bceotia close by the sea), there are three passes or lower points, one far to the north — that by Dekeleia, where the present king has his country palace, but where of old Alcibiades planted the Spartan garrison which tor- mented and ruined the farmers of Attica. This pass leads you out to Tanagra in Bceotia. Next to the south, some miles nearer, is the even more famous pass of Phylae, from which Thrasybulus io8 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. and his brave fellows recovered Athens and its liberty. This pass, when you reach its summit, looks into the northern point of the Thriasian plain, and also into the wilder regions of Cithseron, which border Bceotia. The third pass, and the lowest — but a few miles beyond the groves of Academe — is the pass of Daphne, which was the high road to Eleusis, along which the sacred pro- cessions passed in the times of the mysteries ; and in this pass we still see the numerous niches in which native tablets had been set in by the wor- shippers at a famous temple to Aphrodite. On this side of Attica also, with the exception of the Thriasian plain and of Eleusis, there extends outside Mount Parnes a wild mountainous district, quite Alpine in character, which severs Attica from Bceotia, not by a single row of mountains, or by a single pass, but by a succession of glens and defiles, which at once explain to the classical student, when he sees them, how necessary and fundamental w T ere the divisions of Greece into its separate districts, and how completely different in character the in- habitants of each were sure to be. The way from Attica into Bceotia was no ordinary high road, nor even a pass over one mountain, but a series of glens and valleys and defiles, at any of which a hostile army could be stopped, and each of which severed the country on either side by a difficult obstacle. This truly Alpine nature of Greece is only felt when we see it, and yet must ever be v.] EXCURSIONS IN A TTICA . 1 09 kept before the mind in estimating the character and energy of the race. But let us return to our view from the Acropolis. If we turn and look southward, we see a broken country, with several low hills between us and the sea — hills tolerably well cultivated, and when I saw them in May, all coloured with golden stubbles, for the corn had just been reaped. But all the plain in every direction seems dry and dusty ; arid, too, and not rich alluvial soil, like the plains of Bceotia. Then Thucydides' words come back to us, when he says Attica was 'undisturbed on account of the lightness of its soil' [aaraaiaaTOQ ovcra $ia to \t7TToytwv) as early invaders rather looked out for richer pas- tures. This reflection, too, of Thucydides applies equally to the mountains of Attica round Athens, which are not covered with rich grass and dense shrubs, like Helicon, like Parnassus, like the hills of Arcadia, but seem so bare, that we wonder where the bees ofHymettus can find food for their famous honey. It is only when the traveller ascends the rocky slopes of the mountain that he finds its rugged surface carpeted with quantities of little wild flowers, too insignificant to give the slightest colour to the mountain, but sufficient for the bees which are still making their honey as of old. This honey of Hymettus, which was our daily food at Athens, is now not very remarkable either for colour or flavour. It is very dark, and not by any means so good as the honey produced in other 1 10 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. parts of Greece — not to say on the heather hills of Scotland and Ireland. I tasted honey at Thebes and at Corinth which was much better, especially that of Corinth made in the hills towards Cleonae, where the whole country is scented with thyme, and where thousands of bees are buzzing eagerly through the summer air. But when the old Athen- ians are found talking so much about honey, we must not forget that sugar was almost unknown to them, and that all their sweetmeats depended upon honey exclusively. Hence the culture and use of it assumed an importance not easily understood among moderns, who are in possession of the sugar-cane. But amid all the dusty and bare features of the view, the eye fastens with delight on one great broad band of dark green, which, starting from the left side of Pentelicus, close to Mount Parnes in the north, sweeps straight down the valley, passing about two miles to the west of Athens, and reach- ing to the Peiraeus. This is the plain of the Cephissus, and these are the famous olive woods which contain within them the deme Colonus, so celebrated by Sophocles, and the groves of Aca- deme, at their nearest point to the city. The dust of Athens, and the bareness of the plain, make no walks about the town agreeable, save either the ascent of Lycabettus, or a ramble into these olive woods. The river Cephissus, which waters them, is a respectable, though narrow river, even in v.] EXC URSIONS IN A TTICA . m summer discharging a good deal of water, and often dividing itself into trenches and arms which are very convenient for irrigation. So there is a strip of country, fully ten miles long, and perhaps two wide on the average, which affords delicious shade and greenness and the song of birds, instead of hot sunlight and dust and the shrill clamour of the tettix without. I wandered a whole day in these delightful woods, listening to the nightingales, which in the deep shade and solitude sing all day, as if it were but a prolonged twilight, and hearing the plane tree whispering to the elm, as Aristophanes has it, and seeing the white poplar show its silvery leaves in the breeze, and wondering whether the huge old olive stems, so like the old pollared stumps in Windsor Forest, could be the actual sacred trees, the fiopiai, under which the youth of Athens ran their races. The banks of the Cephissus, too, are lined with great reeds, and other marsh plants, which stoop over into its sandy shallows, and wave idly in the current of its stream. The ouzel and the kingfisher start from under one's feet, and bright fish move out lazily from their sunny bay into the deeper pool. The wood is intersected by a few roads, and by many paths, along which it is easy and pleasant to walk. Now and then through a vista the Acropolis shows itself in a frame work of green foliage, nor do I know any more enchant- ing view of that great ruin. 1 1 2 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. All the ground under the dense olive trees was covered with standing corn, for here, as in Southern Italy, the shade of trees seems no hindrance to the ripening of the ear. But there was here thicker wood than in Italian corn-fields ; on the other hand there was not that rich festooning of vines which spread from tree to tree, and which " give a Neapolitan summer landscape so peculiar a charm. A few homesteads there were along the roads, and even at one of the bridges a children's school, full of those beautiful fair children, whose heads remind one so strongly of the old Greek statues. But all the houses were walled in, and many of them seemed solitary and deserted. The fear of rapine and violence is still there. I was told, indeed, by a famous Athenian professor, that no country in Europe was so secure, and I confess I found it so myself in my wanderings ; but when he added as his decisive reason, that for two J hill years no bandit had been seen or heard of through the country, I could not help feeling that the desert state of the land, and the general feeling of insecurity, how- ever irrational and absurd in his eyes, was not sur- prising. For even apart from bandits, the old spirit of autonomy, or independence, seems to assert itself by men doing what seems right in their own eyes, with- out interference on the part of police or government. Thus on the very day of which I am speaking, we went and sat on the hillock of Colonus, looking- v.] EXC URSIONS IN A TTICA . 1 1 3 with wonder at the noble view of Athens which the very slight elevation affords, and desirous to see not only the spot which Sophocles so loved, but now also the resting-place of two eminent men, who sacrificed their lives to their enthusiasm for Greek art and archaeology. As we read the pomp- ous inscriptions which the Greek nation has set up to Otfried Muller and Charles Lenormant, we saw with surprise that all the marble was spotted with marks of shot and of bullets. Many edges were, of course, chipped off, and altogether the monuments looked as if they had been subject to a recent bombardment. They were merely conven- ient targets for the neighbouring peasants, all of whom carry arms, and feel obliged to practise the use of them. Still worse, we were suddenly called to by a number of labourers with pickaxes, whom we had hardly noticed, but who could now be seen running with all their might away from the slope of the hill close to us. Imitating their ex- ample without knowing why, we presently saw a blast explode within ten yards of the tombs. Earth and stones were thrown high into the air, and fell all over them. The workmen were blasting away the rock for building stones, and had already come to the very verge of the summit. Such are the modern custodians of all the precious art of their great ancestors ! No doubt, as has often happened in older days, not only the rock beneath, but the marble slabs and their inscriptions, will soon be I 1 14 RAMBLES IN GREECE. [ch. built into some vulgar wall, and their modern Greek may yet some day, when rediscovered, give rise to bad reflections and worse theories among whatever people are the most learned pedants of that future age. There is no other excursion in the immediate vicinity of Athens of any like beauty or interest. The older buildings in the Peiraeus are completely gone. No trace of the docks or the deigma remains ; and the splendid walls, built as Thucydides tells us with cutstone, without mortar or mud, and fastened with clamps of iron fixed with lead — this splendid structure has been almost completely destroyed. We can find, indeed, elsewhere in Attica — at Phylae — still better at Eleutherae — specimens of this sort of building, but at the Peiraeus there are only foundations remaining. A drive to the open roadstead of Phalerum is more repaying. It is interesting here to observe how the Athenians passed by the nearest sea, and even an open and clear roadstead, in order to join their city to the better harbour, and more defensi- ble headland of Peiraeus. Phalerum, as they now call it, though they spell it with an 77, is the favourite bathing-place of modern Athens, and is about a mile and a-half nearer the city than Peiraeus. The water is shallow, and the beach of fine sand, so that for ancient ships, which I suppose drew little water, it was a convenient landing-place, especially for the disembarking of troops, who could choose v.] EXC URSIONS IN A TTICA . 115 their place anywhere around a large crescent, and actually for land fighting, if necessary. But the walls of Athens, the long walls to Peirseus, and its lofty fortifications, made this roadstead of no use to the enemy, so long as Athens held the command of the sea, and could send out ships from the secure little harbours of Zea and Munychia, which almost face Phalerum on the east side of the headland of Peiraeus. There was originally a third wall, too, to the east side of the Phaleric bay, but this seems to have been early abandoned when the second long wall, or middle wall as it was originally called, was completed. At the opening of the Peloponnesian war, it ap- pears that the Athenians defended against the Lacedaemonians, not the two long walls which run close together and parallel to Peiraeus, but the northern of these, and the far distant Phaleric wall. It cannot but strike any observer as extraordinary how the Athenians should undertake such an enor- mous task. Had the enemy attacked anywhere suddenly and with vigour, it seems hard to under- stand how they could have kept him out. Accord- ing to Thucydides' accurate detail 1 the wall to Phalerum was nearly 4 miles, that to Peiraeus 4 J. There were in addition 5 miles of city wall, and nearly 3 of Peiraeus wall. That is to say, there were about 1 7 miles of wall to be protected. This is not 1 H-, 13- I 2 1 1 6 RA MBLES IN GREECE. [ch.. all. This circuit was not closed, but separated by about 2 miles of beach between Peirseus and Phal- erum, so that the defenders of the two extremities could in no way promptly assist each other. Thucy- dides tells us that a garrison of 16,000 inferior sol- diers, old men, boys and mctics, sufficed to do this work. We are forced to conclude that not only were the means of attacking walls curiously incom- plete, but even the dash and enterprise of modern warfare cannot have been understood by the Greeks. For we never hear of even a bold attempt on this absurdly straggling fortification, far less of any successful attempt to force it. 1 But it is time that we should leave the environs of Athens, and wander out beyond the borders of the Athenian plain into the wilder outlying parts of the land. Attica is after all a large country, if one does not apply railway measures to it. We think 30 miles by rail very little, but 30 miles by road is a long distance, and implies land enough to support a large population, and to maintain many flourish- ing towns. We can wander 30 miles from Athens through Attica in several directions — to Eleutherae, on the western Boeotian frontier ; to Oropus, on the north; and Sunium, on the south. Thus it is only when one endeavours to know Attica minutely 1 The reader who desires to see the best poetical picture of mo- dern Athens should consult the tenth chapter in Mr. Symonds' Sketches in Italy and Greece — one of the most beautiful productions of that charming poet in prose. v.] EXC URSIONS IN A TTICA . i j 7 that one finds how much there is to be seen, and how long a time is required to see it. And fortu- nately enough, there is one expedition, and that not the least important, where we can avoid the rough paths, and rougher saddles, of the country, and coast in a steamer along a district at all times obscure in history, and seldom known for anything except for being the road to Sunium. Strabo gives a list of the demes along this seaboard 1 , and seems only able to write one fact about them — a line from an old oracle in the days of the Persian war, which prophesied that 'the women of Colias will roast their corn with oars/ 2 alluding to the wrecks driven on shore here by the north-west wind from Salamis. Even the numerous little islands along this coast were in his day, as they now are, perfectly barren. Yet with all its desolation it is exceedingly picturesque and varied in outline. We took ship in the little steamer belonging to the Sunium Mining Company, who have built a village called Ergasteria, between Thorikos and the promontory, and who were obliging enough to allow us to sail in the boat intended for their private traffic. We left the Peirseus on one of those pecu- liarly Greek mornings, with a blue sky and very bright sun, but with an east wind so strong and clear, so Xa^TrpoQ, as the old Greeks would say, that 1 ix., § i, p.' 244 (Tauchn.) 2 He reads, however,