DF 919 .P26 Copy 1 besci^iptive Reading Illctstfated 12 liantettn Slides WILLIAM H. RAIJ PHILADELPHfA ^ N n Zb Descriptive Reading ON ATHENS ^. ILLUSTRATED BY TWELVE LANTERN. SLIDES WILLIAM H. RAU PHILADELPHIA 1890 /7 Copyright, 1890, by William H. Rau. ILLUSTRATIONS. 1. The Acropolis. 2. General View of the Ruins. 3. Parthenon (rear view.) 4. Friezes from the Parthenon. 5. Carytides of the Erechtheion. 6. Temple of Minerva Polias. 7. The Ruins from the East. 8. Tower of the Winds. 9. Bas Relief, Theatre of Bacchus. 10. The Prison of Socrates. 11. Temple of Theseus. 12. Theatre Herodus Atticus. ATHENS. No European city of ancient birth is putting on more youthful robes than Athens. The old and the new lie in strange brotherhood everywhere. You stumble over cobblestones over which the tranquil Plato walked out of the city to his Academe, and your ears are deafened by the whirl of sewing machines. You see the queen, beautiful and bright, riding up to. the palace gate ; but in five minutes you are pick- ing your way over the little Ilissus, and clambering over the very rocks where once played the boys who afterward won Marathon and died at Thermopylae. And it is only among the ruins of her former great- ness that we realize that we are in Athens — the immor- tal city of Minerva, — the mother of great men. The whole place is one vast shrine of hallowed memories. Here are the monuments of Pericles, the triumphs of Phidias ; here it was that Socrates and Plato dis- coursed of the human soul ; here ^schylus strung the tragic lyre, and the daring denouncer of Philip poured the thunders of his eloquence. And as we muse and ponder o'er the past we cannot but exclaim with Byron, " Cold is the heart, fair Greece ! that looks on thee, Nor feels as lovers o'er the dust they loved." 1. The Acropolis. — No other spot in the world can rival the Acropolis in its unique combination of natural grandeur, of artistic beauty, and of sublime (945) 946 ATHENS. historical associations. That small, isolated rock, whose plateau is about a- thousand feet in length, and four hundred and fifty feet in its greatest breadth, had not only been the cradle of Athens, but had obtained so sacred a character as to be regarded as one vast temple. How great was the veneration with which it was regarded ! In the eyes of its admirers it appeared to be the very centre of the world. Thus, Aristides fancifully compares it to the innermost circle of a shield, surrounded by four others ; the world being the outermost of which Greece was the centre ; Attica, the centre of Greece ; Athens the centre of Attica ; and the Acropolis the centre of Athens. This lofty hill, which rises three hundred feet above the plain below, was once the place of mean dwellings above which rose two temples. Neptune was the favorite god, and to him was the chief worship, for Athens was a child of the sea and must honor its paternity. But gradually wisdom took the place of this sacred memory, and Minerva became the great goddess of the priceless hill. All the dwellings and poor buildings were swept away, and the entire great space was devoted to sacred uses. Temple after temple arose, the wonderful Parthenon above them al]. 2. General View of the Kuius. — As we \\ ander on toward the Acropolis we pass through an actual chaos of broken and shattered ornaments, hands, feet, heads, draperies, columns, altars, and friezes. Every object that meets the eye, every sound that accosts the ear, is the talisman of some being or event, ATHENS. 947 calling up youth, beauty, genius, and valor from the grave, and restoring the images of self-sacrifice and patriotism. The drama of centuries^ with its splendid or sorrowful scenes, its heroes and poets, its manifold transformations, can here be lived anew. From that which yet remains of the fallen dwellings of the gods, we can form an idea of their beauty, and of the feel- ings which must have animated the great law givers of Athens, when from the temple colonnade of the lofty city, they looked abroad over the glorious landscape below, and thought upon the grandeur and honor of Athens. We pass through the great gateway amid a world of fragments of capitals, and statues, and vases ; and all recalls to us the other days when Greece was the world's queen, and Athens her joy, and the Acropolis her choicest shrine. 3. Partlieiion, (Rear View). — We make our way upward to where stands in broken beauty the most finished monument of classic taste, the highest triumph of Grecian genius, the world's warmest wonder. Enough of the Parthenon still remains to tell us exactly the original shape. We have its whole outline — enough of its still erect pillars and general structure to learn to an inch all its dimensions. You know every step by which the ancient worshiper ascended and entered the shrine, and you can sit down in it and lose yourself in thought, and wonder if it is really you who are there, or some old Greek who had seen the ships of Xerxes go down out in the bay, and had lost his way for very joy and had forgotten things and had fallen asleep, and now 948 ATHENS. waked up again and found himself resting on one of these steps of the Parthenon. The temple is a parallelogram two hundred and twenty-eight feet long, and one hundred and one broad, and sixty- six feet to the top of the pediment. Each of its sides was approached by a flight of marble steps so easy and gentle in appearance that you look upon them with a sense of restfulness, and ascend them with a feeling of relief. At the top of these steps comes the row of great Doric pillars, which follow the line of the temple on each side. There are sixteen of these pillars on each side and eight at each end. Then comes the main building with its three divisions ; the outline, notwithstanding the thefts and the wreck of long centuries, is precisely clear. You see just where the very altar stood and the groove in the pavement where the blood of victims flowed away. This temple has been justly called the ''finest edifice on the finest site in the world, hallowed by the noblest recollections that can stimulate the human heart." The idea of graceful and gentle proportion surpasses all else. There seem to be no sharp and cutting angles. It is said that there is not a straight line to be found anywhere in the Parthenon. All is in curves ; yet so skillfully are these convex: lines drawn that you would never suspect them. You see the grace and symmetry, but little suspect the chief cause. The architect had looked out upon the islands and seen their gentle slopes, had followed the lines of Salamis, and the sweep of the coast aYound to Corinth, and the plain stretching off to ATHENS. 949 Marathon ; and nowhere could he find a sharp angle or a straight line. So, when he reared the Parthenon, he followed Nature's curves ; he caught her secret of beauty and embalmed it in his marble triumph. 4. Friezes from the Paitlienon. — But let us for a moment turn our gaze from the perfect beauty of the temple as a whole, and examine in detail some of the sculptures that enrich it ; for not only is this building the culmination of an architecture that had gone on through centuries of refinement, but it was combined with the work of the greatest sculptor the world has ever produced. Built into the wall of the cella, high up under the roof Df the portico, was a broad band of sculpture in low relief It was a wonderful composition of hundreds of figures, a double pro- cession of horsemen, chariots, men and women on foot, and cattle for the sacrifice ; starting at the southwest corner of the building, and passing along the west and north walls, and also, separately, along the south wall, to where, at the east end, the gods are seated, and the priest and priestess with their attendants prepare for the ceremony of the day. The subject of the frieze is the procession of celebrants at the Greater Panathenaic Festival, which took place every fifth anniversary of the goddess Athena's birthday. The exquisite sculptures exhibit still the . delicacy and fire which ever followed the chisel of Phidias. Their extraordinary beauty and great extent place them at the head of all sculpture accessible to us. 5. Carytides of the Erectheion.— From the con- templation of the Parthenon we turn to another 950 ATHENS. masterpiece of Greek sculpture, the temple of Erech- theion. The southern portico, consisting of a solid marble Avail rising eight feet above the exterior level is surmounted by six carytides of great beauty. The figures stand four in front and two behind. The height from floor to ceiling is fifteen feet. These draped female figures are transcendently beautiful, giving at the same time an impression of strength and grace. It is curious to note how the entablature is modified to meet these conditions ; the frieze is omitted and the whole composition simplified and lightened. Within the temple you are shown the spot on which Neptune and Pallas Athena are said to have contested for the dominion of the city. Neptune struck the ground with his trident and caused a salt spring to burst forth. Athena, or Minerva as she is more popularly known, caused an olive tree to shoot up from the earth, and the inhabitants of the city were wise enough to choose the giver of the tree of peace as the protectoress and legislator of the city. The spot where the fountain and the olive tree sprung forth within the temple is now distinguished by a deep fissure, which extends far into the earth. «. Temple of Minerva Polias. — The temple of the Erechtheion was divided into three distinct shrines, — the Erechtheion proper, the Pandroseion, and the temple of Minerva Polias, the most revered sanctuary of Athens. It was in this temple, built on the site of a yet earlier one that the statue of Minerva made of olive-wood and supposed to have fallen from heaven, was preserved ; a statue probably more ven- ATHENS. 951 erated than the colossal divinity which Phidias placed in the Parthenon. There also burned the lamp which was never extinguished, and which was replenished with oil but once a year. It was to this temple that the sacred veil was brought from E4eusis by the Panathenaic procession. In this temple the mystic serpent of the Acropolis had his abode ; in it were preserved the throne of Xerxes and the sword of Mardonius. The temple is of Ionic architecture, nor has there ever existed a more perfect specimen of that grace- ful order. In length it is seventy-three feet, and in breadth thirty-seven. At one side is the beautiful porch of the carytides, in which Virgins attired in re- ligious costume of the Panathenaic solemnity, take the place of pillars, and support the projecting corn- ice on their broad and sedate brows, which they seem to wear as a crown rather than sustain as a burden. 7 Tlie Uuins from tlie East. — As we pause for another comprehensive view of these magnificent- ruins, we cannot but reflect that it is not time alone which has inscribed its solemn, silent memorials on these great works of antiquity ; the hand of time sanctifies while it casts down, heals whilst it smites, and causes new beauties to arise on the sepulchres of the departed. No ! it is the blind, savage madness of man that has here ravaged and devastated; it is ignorance and violence which have trampled under foot the works of Solon, of Pericles, and of Phidias. Well may the bird of Minerva lament and moan amid the ruins throughout the stillness of night, for 952 ATHENS. the condition of the sacred edifices presents one of the saddest spectacles of the triumph of barbarism over the realm of wisdom and beauty. But brightly beautiful among the grosser ruins gleam the marble relics which still stand erect. It is the light and loveliness of life lingering among the shadows of death. If so impressive now, what must they have been as forming a portion of the unrivalled structures which once covered the whole elevation; when portico rose over portico, temple over temple, and the Parthenon, pre-eminent over all, shone in its marble whiteness. As we gaze, for a moment all is restored to its pristine beauty, and rises in the full dignity of its youthful stature, with architecture fresh and perfect, outlined against a glowing sky. *'Shnut, shout aloud! at the view which appears of the old time-honored Athenae, Wondrous in sight and famous in song, where the noble Demus abideth." 8. Tower of the Winds. — At the foot of the .Acropolis, at the head of what is now called ^olus Street, there is an old tower of marble called the Tower of the Winds. It is octagonal in shape, and each of its sides bears the figure of the wind which blows from the direction in which the side faces. Each wind is clearly characterized, and has its name inscribed beneath. The dial lines were traced below the sculptures, and the tower also contained a water clock. The top was surmounted by a bronze Triton, which revolved and showed the direction of the wind by a wand he held in his hand. The Triton has long since perished, but the sculptured Winds are still ATHENS. 953 well preserved. The sculptures are large in style and highly decorative in effect ; they harmonize well with the strong plainness of the whole structure, which is unique in character and pleasing in effect. 9. Bas Relief, Theatre of Baeclms. — Most in- teresting of all the remains on the slopes of the Acropolis, is that of the Temple of Bacchus, the great Tragic theatre of Athens. Almost all of the count- less statues with which it was decorated have disap- peared, but while gazing on a few of those that re- main, let us try to imagine as it appeared in its glory, this edifice which is said to have seated thirty thou- sand spectators. Some remains of its steps still exist hewn in the rock of the southern side of the Acropo- lis ; but the marble with which its seats were covered has disappeared. Ranged along these stone seats the Athenians witnessed the tragedies of Sophocles and ^schylus, performed with all the solemnity of a grave religious ceremonial, while incense as- cended from the altar of Bacchus, the god of the passions, and the inspirer of tragic song. In this theatre the day that the Peloponnesian War was concluded by the complete submission of the Athenians, when Lysander had demolished the forti- fications which Themistocles had erected, the Athen- ian people witnessed the " Electra " of Euripides. That day was the anniversary of the battle of Salamis, won seventy-six years before, and had ever been kept as a chief festival. The contrast between the glory of Agamemnon, who alone had ruled the hosts of united Greece, and the exile of his orphan daugh- ter, suddenly struck the Athenians as paralleled only 954 ATHENS. by their own fate ; — and the audience melted into tears. Of all the spectacles which the Temple of Bac- chus witnessed, that must surely have been the most pathetic. lO. The Prison of Socrates. — From the theatre we wander to the prison of Socrates, a cave cut in the steep face of a rocky elevation that rises between the Acropolis and the sea. The cavern is small, low, gloomy, its darkness relieved only by a few rays that struggle through the entrance ; and even these few rays seem pale and tremulous, as if conscious of re- vealing some spot of ingratitude and guilt. It was here that the sublime sage spent the last thirty days of his life, under sentence of death, for having discovered, without the lights of revelation, some of those subtle truths which embrace the divine attributes and man's highest dignity. These dark walls may indeed have confined his body, but not that " Intellectual being, Those thoughts that wondered through eternity." He Spent his last day in discussing with his friends the immortality of the soul. There was a patience, a meekness and forgiving magnanimity in the death of this martyr to truth, to which no heart can be wholly insensible. I wonder not that the servant reluctantly obedient to orders, wept as he handed the sage the fatal hemlock The philosopher quietly took the cup, and died in the expectation of a happy immortalit}'. Thus did he vindicate truth in the presence of his foes and calmly seal his faith with his blood. "This was the death," says Plato, "of our ATHENS. 955 friend — the noblest, wisest and most just man whom we ever knew." 11. Temple of Tlieseus. — A little below the Acrop- olis lies the best preserved of all the Athenian ruins, the Temple of Theseus, erected in commemoration of the eventful victory gained over the pride -of Per- sia. The architectural characteristics of this temple are in sober harmony with the solemnity of the wor- ship of which it was the shrine. No ambitious, fan- tastic display of ornament impairs its entire impress- iveness ; it stands with self-relying composure, simple, massive and majestic. Its material was not unworthy its purpose or the perfection of its design ; for the finest Parian marble prevails throughout ; and so re- sisting has it been to the corrosive touch of time, that only the sombre tinge of years is apparent upon its form. You gaze on this temple without any amazement or great emotion ; yet on attempting to leave it, you turn round at every step to take another parting look, till at last you resolve to retrace your steps and come again into its full presence. You feel irresist- ibly attracted, chained to the spot, and yet it would be impossible to describe the impression of its har- mony and beauty. This temple has long survived the worship of the imagined divinity to whom it was dedicated ; passed to the quiet possession of the Christian ; been forced into the service of the False Prophet, and has revert- ed once more to the followers of the Cross. 12. Theatre Herodus Atticiis. — At the foot of the Acropolis, in excellent preservation stands the 956 ATHENS. theatre Herodus Atticus. The outer walls, which we now behold as blackened ruins, not many years ago lay deeply buried in the earth ; but when it, was dug out its beautiful amphitheatre was found, with its circling seats of white marble in perfectly good condition. The theatre seems small for a theatre- loving public like the Athenian, but it is built and finished in a style and costliness scarcely possible in these days. It was built by Herodus, a wealthy citi- zen of Athens, who gathered around him all the re- markable men and all the rising talent of Attica, en- couraged plans for the public good, and employed a great number of people in beautifying the city. He built this theatre for the exhibition of the favorite and most highly cultivated popular amusement — that of dramatic representation. The arena is now voice- less, and all that remains of this costly structure has been crushed by the hand of Time. " O Time ! sole monarch of the mighty Past, The pillars ot^thy throne are on the grave Of empires— thy dominion is a waste, Once animate with nations great and brave. And who contended with thee to the last." r