HISTORY OF THE ORDERS.

The culminating period of the Pelasgic civilisation of Greece was at the time of the war with Troy—the last great military event of that age, and the one which seems to have closed the long and intimate connection of the Greek Pelasgians with their cognate races in Asia.

Sixty years later the irruption of the Thessalians, and twenty years after that event the return of the Heracleidæ, closed, in a political sense, that chapter in history, and gave rise to what may be styled the Hellenic civilisation, which proved the great and true glory of Greece.

Four centuries, however, elapsed, which may appropriately be called the dark ages of Greece, before the new seed bore fruit, at least in so far as art is concerned. These ages produced, it is true, the laws of Lycurgus, a characteristic effort of a truly Aryan race, conferring as they did on the people who made them that power of self-government, and capacity for republican institutions, which gave them such stability at home and so much power abroad, but which were as inimical to the softer glories of the fine arts in Sparta as they have proved elsewhere.

When, after this long night, architectural art reappeared, it was at Corinth, under the Cypselidæ, a race of strongly-marked Asiatic tendencies; but it had in the meantime undergone so great a transformation as to well-nigh bewilder us. On its reappearance it was no longer characterised by the elegant and ornate art of Mycenæ and the cognate forms of Asiatic growth, but had assumed the rude, bold proportions of Egyptian art, and with almost more than Egyptian massiveness.

The age of the Doric temple at Corinth is not, it is true, satisfactorily determined; but the balance of evidence would lead us to believe that it belongs to the age of Cypselus, or about 650 B.C. The pillars are less than four diameters in height, and the architrave—the only part of the superstructure that now remains—is proportionately heavy. It is, indeed, one of the most massive specimens of architecture existing, more so than even the rock-cut prototype at Beni Hasan. As a work of art, it fails from excess of strength, a fault common to most of the efforts of a rude people, ignorant of the true resources of art, and striving, by the expression of physical power alone, to attain its objects.

Next in age to this is the little temple at Ægina.^[131] Its date, too, is unknown, though, judging from the character of its sculpture, it probably belongs to the middle of the sixth century before Christ.

We know that Athens had a great temple on the Acropolis, contemporary with these, and the frusta of its columns still remain, which, after its destruction by the Persians, were built into the walls of the citadel. It is more than probable that all the principal cities of Greece had temples commensurate with their dignity before the Persian War. Many of these were destroyed during that struggle; but it also happened then, as in France and England in the 12th and 13th centuries, that the old temples were thought unworthy of the national greatness, and of that feeling of exaltation arising from the successful result of the greatest of their wars, so that almost all those which remained were pulled down or rebuilt. The consequence is, that nearly all the great temples now found in Greece were built in the forty or fifty years which succeeded the defeat of the Persians at Salamis and Platæa.

One of the oldest temples of this class is that best known as the Theseion or Temple of Theseus at Athens, now recognised as the Temple of Hephaistos mentioned in the “Attica” of Pausanias. By an analysis of the architectural character of the Temple Dr. Dorpfield contends that it is posterior to the Parthenon and not anterior, as is generally supposed.

Of all the great temples, the best and most celebrated is the Parthenon, the only octastyle Doric Temple in Greece, and in its own class undoubtedly the most beautiful building in the world. It is true it has neither the dimensions nor the wondrous expression of power and eternity inherent in Egyptian temples, nor has it the variety and poetry of the Gothic Cathedral; but for intellectual beauty, for perfection of proportion, for beauty of detail, and for the exquisite perception of the highest and most recondite principles of art ever applied to architecture, it stands utterly and entirely alone and unrivalled—the glory of Greece and a reproach to the rest of the world.

Next in size and in beauty to this was the great hexastyle temple of Jupiter at Olympia, finished two years later than the Parthenon. Its dimensions were nearly the same, but having only six pillars in front instead of eight, as in the Parthenon, the proportions were different, this temple being 95 ft. by 230, the Parthenon 101 ft. by 227.

The excavations at Olympia, undertaken at the cost of the German Government in 1876, not only laid bare the site of the Temple of Jupiter, of which the lower frusta of half the column, the lower portions of the walls of cella and nearly the whole of the pavement was found in situ; but led to the recovery of a great portion of the sculptures which decorated the metopes and filled the pediments, so that it is not only possible to restore the complete design of the temple itself but to obtain a distinct idea of its sculptural decoration. The foundations of other Doric temples were found; of the Temple of Hera, which seems originally to have been a wooden structure, the wood being gradually replaced by stone when from its decay it required renewal.^[132] This temple was coeval if not more ancient than that of Zeus; the interior of the cella would seem to have been subdivided into bays or niches inside, similar to those of the Temple at Bassæ; a third hexastyle Doric temple, the Metroum, was also discovered, and many buildings dating from the Roman occupation.

To the same age belongs the exquisite little Temple of Apollo Epicurius at Bassæ (47 ft. by 125), the Temple of Minerva at Sunium, the greater temple at Rhamnus, the Propylæa at Athens, and indeed all that is greatest and most beautiful in the architecture of Greece. The temple of Ceres at Eleusis also was founded and designed at this period, but its execution belongs to a later date.

The temple at Assos, though not of any great size, is interesting on account of its having had the outer face of the architrave sculptured in relief, requiring therefore an architectural frame which was obtained by leaving a raised fillet along the bottom. The temple was hexastyle-peristyle with pronaos but no posticum. The date is assumed to be about 470 B.C., or shortly after the battle of Mycale.^[133]

Doric Temples in Sicily.

Owing probably to some local peculiarity, which we have not now the means of explaining, the Dorian colonies of Sicily and Magna Græcia seem to have possessed, in the days of their prosperity, a greater number of temples, and certainly retain the traces of many more, than were or are to be found in any of the great cities of the mother country. The one city of Selinus alone possesses six, in two groups,—three in the citadel and three in the city. Of these the oldest is the central one of the first-named group. Its sculptures, first discovered by Messrs. Angell and Harris, indicate an age only slightly subsequent to the foundation of the colony, B.C. 636, and therefore probably nearly contemporary with the example above mentioned at Corinth. The most modern is the great octastyle temple, which seems to have been left unfinished at the time of the destruction of the city by the Carthaginians, B.C. 410. It measured 375 ft. by 166, and was consequently very much larger than any temple of its class in Greece. The remaining four range between these dates, and therefore form a tolerably perfect chronometric series at that time when the arts of Greece itself fail us. The inferiority, however, of provincial art, as compared with that of Greece itself, prevents us from applying such a test with too much confidence to the real history of the art, though it is undoubtedly valuable as a secondary illustration.

At Agrigentum there are three Doric temples, two small hexastyles, whose age may be about 500 to 480 B.C., and one great exceptional example, differing in its arrangements from all the Grecian temples of the age. Its dimensions are 360 ft. long by 173 broad, and consequently very nearly the same as those of the great Temple of Selinus just alluded to. Its date is perfectly known, as it was commenced by Theron, B.C. 480, and left unfinished seventy-five years afterwards, when the city was destroyed by the Carthaginians.

At Syracuse there still exist the ruins of a very beautiful temple of this age; and at Segesta are remains of another in a much more perfect state.

Pæstum, in Magna Græcia, boasts of the most magnificent group of temples after that at Agrigentum. One is a very beautiful hexastyle, belonging probably to the middle of the fifth century B.C., built in a bold and very pure style of Doric architecture, and still retains the greater part of its internal columnar arrangement.

The other two are more modern, and are far less pure both in plan and in detail, one having nine columns at each end, the central pillars of which are meant to correspond with an internal range of pillars, supporting the ridge of the roof. The other, though of a regular form, is so modified by local peculiarities, so corrupt, in fact, as hardly to deserve being ranked with the beautiful order which it most resembles.

Ionic Temples.

We have even fewer materials for the history of the Ionic order in Greece than we have for that of the Doric. The recent discoveries in Assyria have proved beyond a doubt that the Ionic was even more essentially an introduction from Asia^[134] than the Doric was from Egypt: the only question is, when it was brought into Greece. My own impression is, that it existed there in one form or another from the earliest ages, but owing to its slenderer proportions, and the greater quantity of wood used in its construction, the examples may have perished, so that nothing is now known to exist which can lay claim to even so great an antiquity as the Persian War.

The oldest example, probably, was the temple on the Ilissus, now destroyed, dating from about 484 B.C.; next to this is the little gem of a temple dedicated to Niké Apteros, or the Wingless Victory, built about fifteen years later, in front of the Propylæa at Athens. The last and most perfect of all the examples of this order is the Erechtheium, on the Acropolis; its date is apparently about 420 B.C., the great epoch of Athenian art. Nowhere did the exquisite taste and skill of the Athenians show themselves to greater advantage than here; for though every detail of the order may be traced back to Nineveh or Persepolis, all are so purified, so imbued with purely Grecian taste and feeling, that they have become essential parts of a far more beautiful order than ever existed in the land in which they had their origin.

The largest, and perhaps the finest, of Grecian Ionic temples was that built about a century afterwards at Tegea, in Arcadia—a regular peripteral temple of considerable dimensions, but the existence of which is now known only from the description of Pausanias.^[135]

As in the case, however, of the Doric order, it is not in Greece itself that we find either the greatest number of Ionic temples or those most remarkable for size, but in the colonies in Asia Minor, and more especially in Ionia, whence the order most properly takes its name.

That an Ionic order existed in Asia Minor before the Persian War is quite certain, but all examples perished in that memorable struggle; and when it subsequently reappeared, the order had lost much of its purely Asiatic character, and assumed certain forms and tendencies borrowed from the simpler and purer Doric style.

If any temple in the Asiatic Greek colonies escaped destruction in the Persian wars, it was that of Juno at Samos. It is said to have been built by Polycrates, and appears to have been of the Doric order. The ruins now found there are of the Ionic order, 346 ft. by 190 ft., and must have succeeded the first mentioned. The apparent archaisms in the form of the bases, &c., which have misled antiquarians, are merely Eastern forms retained in spite of Grecian influence.

More remarkable even than this was the celebrated Temple of Diana at Ephesus, said by Pliny to have been 425 ft. long by 220 ft. wide. Recent excavations on the site, however, carried out by Mr. T. Wood, prove that these dimensions apply only to the platform on which it stood. The temple itself, measured from the outside of the angle pillars, was only 348 ft. by 164, making the area 57,072 ft., or about the average dimensions of our mediæval cathedrals.

Besides these, there was a splendid decastyle temple, dedicated to Apollo Didymæus, at Miletus, 156 ft. wide by 295 ft. in length; an octastyle at Sardis, 261 ft. by 144 ft.; an exquisitely beautiful, though small hexastyle, at Priene, 122 ft. by 64 ft.; and another at Teos, and smaller examples elsewhere, besides many others which have no doubt perished.

German explorations in Pergamon have brought to light the remains of the Augustæum, a building consisting of two detached wings with columns of the Ionic order resting on a lofty podium enriched with sculpture and connected one with the other by a magnificent flight of steps, the whole block measuring 125 ft. by 114 ft.^[136]

Corinthian Temples.

The Corinthian order is as essentially borrowed from the bell-shaped capitals of Egypt as the Doric is from their oldest pillars. Like everything they touched, the Greeks soon rendered it their own by the freedom and elegance with which they treated it. The acanthus-leaf with which they adorned it is essentially Grecian, and we must suppose that it had been used by them as an ornament, either in their metal or wood work, long before they adopted it in stone as an architectural feature.

As in everything else, however, the Greeks could not help betraying in this also the Asiatic origin of their art, and the Egyptian order with them was soon wedded to the Ionic, whose volutes became an essential though subdued part of this order. It is in fact a composite order, made up of the bell-shaped capitals of the Egyptians and the spiral of the Assyrians, and adopted by the Greeks at a time when national distinctions were rapidly disappearing, and when true and severer art was giving place to love of variety. At that time also mere ornament and carving were supplanting the purer class of forms and the higher aspirations of sculpture with which the Greeks ornamented their temples in their best days.

In Greece the order does not appear to have been introduced, or at least generally used, before the age of Alexander the Great; the oldest authentic example, and also one of the most beautiful, being the Choragic Monument of Lysicrates (B.C. 335), which, notwithstanding the smallness of its dimensions, is one of the most beautiful works of art of the merely ornamental class to be found in any part of the world. A simpler example, but by no means so beautiful, is that of the porticoes of the small octagonal building commonly called the Tower of the Winds at Athens. The largest example in Greece of the Corinthian order is the Temple of Jupiter Olympius at Athens. This, however, may almost be called a Roman building, though on Grecian soil—having been commenced in its present form under Antiochus Epiphanes, in the second century B.C. by the Roman architect Cossutius, and only finished by Hadrian, to whom probably we may ascribe the greatest part of what now remains. Its dimensions are 135 ft. by 354 ft., and from the number of its columns, their size and their beauty, it must have been when complete the most beautiful Corinthian temple of the ancient world.

Judging, however, from some fragments found among the Ionic temples of Asia Minor, it appears that the Corinthian order was introduced there before we find any trace of it in Greece Proper. Indeed, à priori, we might expect that its introduction into Greece was part of that reaction which the elegant and luxurious Asiatics exercised on the severer and more manly inhabitants of European Greece, and which was in fact the main cause of their subjection, first to the Macedonians, and finally beneath the iron yoke of Rome. As used by the Asiatics, it seems to have arisen from the introduction of the bell-shaped capital of the Egyptians, to which they applied the acanthus-leaf, sometimes in conjunction with the honeysuckle ornament of the time, as in Woodcut No. 135, and on other and later occasions together with the volutes of the same order, the latter combination being the one which ultimately prevailed and became the typical form of the Corinthian capital.

Dimensions of Greek Temples.

Although differing so essentially in plan, the general dimensions of the larger temples of the Greeks were very similar to those of the mediæval cathedrals, and although they never reached the altitude of their modern rivals, their cubic dimensions were probably in about the same ratio of proportion.

The following table gives the approximate dimensions, rejecting fractions, of the eight largest and best known examples:—

There may be some slight discrepancies in this table from the figures quoted elsewhere, and incorrectness arising from some of the temples being measured on the lowest step and others, as the Parthenon, on the highest; but it is sufficient for comparison, which is all that is attempted in its compilation.

The Doric was the order which the Greeks especially loved and cultivated so as to make it most exclusively their own; and, as used in the Parthenon, it certainly is as complete and as perfect an architectural feature as any style can boast of. When first introduced from Egypt, it, as before stated, partook of even more than Egyptian solidity, but by degrees became attenuated to the weak and lean form of the Roman order of the same name. Woodcuts No. 136, 137, 138 illustrate the three stages of progress from the oldest example at Corinth to the order as used in the time of Philip at Delos, the intermediate being the culminating point in the age of Pericles: the first is 4·47 diameters in height, the next 6·025, the last 7·015; and if the table were filled up with all the other examples, the gradual attenuation of the shaft would very nearly give the relative date of the example. This fact is in itself sufficient to refute the idea of the pillar being copied from a wooden post, as in that case it would have been slenderer at first, and would gradually have departed from the wooden form as the style advanced.^[137] This is the case in all carpentry styles. With the Doric order the contrary takes place. The earlier the example the more unlike it is to any wooden original. As the masons advanced in skill and power over their stone material, it came more and more to resemble posts or pillars of wood. The fact appears to be that, either in Egypt or in early Greece, the pillar was originally a pier of brickwork, or of rubble masonry, supporting a wooden roof, of which the architraves, the triglyphs, and the various parts of the cornice, all bore traces down to the latest period.

Even as ordinarily represented, or as copied in this country, there is a degree of solidity combined with elegance in this order, and an exquisite proportion of the parts to one another and to the work they have to perform, that command the admiration of every person of taste; but, as used in Greece, its beauty was very much enhanced by a number of refinements whose existence was not suspected till lately, and even now cannot be detected but by the most practised eye.

The columns were at first assumed to be bounded by straight lines. It is now found that they have an entasis, or convex profile, in the Parthenon to the extent of 1⁄550 of the whole height, and are outlined by a very delicate hyperbolic curve; it is true this can hardly be detected by the eye in ordinary positions, but the want of it gives that rigidity and poverty to the column which is observable in modern examples.^[138]

In like manner, the architrave in all temples was carried upwards so as to form a very flat arch, just sufficient to correct the optical delusion arising from the interference of the sloping lines of the pediment. This, I believe, was common to all temples, but in the Parthenon the curve was applied to the sides also, though from what motive it is not so easy to detect.

Another refinement was making all the columns slope slightly inwards, so as to give an idea of strength and support to the whole. Add to this, that all the curved lines used were either hyperbolas or parabolas. With one exception only, no circular line was employed, nor even an ellipse. Every part of the temple was also arranged with the most unbounded care and accuracy, and every detail of the masonry was carried out with a precision and beauty of execution which is almost unrivalled, and it may be added that the material of the whole was the purest and best white marble. All these delicate adjustments, this exquisite finish and attention to even the smallest details, are well bestowed on a design in itself simple, beautiful, and appropriate. They combine to render this order, as found in the best Greek temples, as nearly faultless as any work of art can possibly be, and such as we may dwell upon with the most unmixed and unvarying satisfaction.

The system of definite proportion which the Greeks employed in the design of their temples, was another cause of the effect they produce even on uneducated minds. It was not with them merely that the height was equal to the width, or the length about twice the breadth; but every part was proportioned to all those parts with which it was related, in some such ratio as 1 to 6, 2 to 7, 3 to 8, 4 to 9, or 5 to 10, &c. As the scheme advances these numbers become undesirably high. In this case they reverted to some such simple ratios as 4 to 5, 5 to 6, 6 to 7, and so on.

We do not yet quite understand the process of reasoning by which the Greeks arrived at the laws which guided their practice in this respect; but they evidently attached the utmost importance to it, and when the ratio was determined upon, they set it out with such accuracy, that even now the calculated and the measured dimensions seldom vary beyond such minute fractions as can only be expressed in hundredths of an inch.

Though the existence of such a system of ratios has long been suspected, it is only recently that any measurements of Greek temples have been made with sufficient accuracy to enable the matter to be properly investigated and their existence proved.^[139]

The ratios are in some instances so recondite, and the correlation of the parts at first sight so apparently remote, that many would be inclined to believe they were more fanciful than real.^[140] It would, however, be as reasonable in a person with no ear, or no musical education, to object to the enjoyment of a complicated concerted piece of music experienced by those differently situated, or to declare that the pain musicians feel from a false note was mere affectation. The eyes of the Greeks were as perfectly educated as our ears. They could appreciate harmonies which are lost in us, and were offended at false quantities which our duller senses fail to perceive. But in spite of ourselves, we do feel the beauty of these harmonic relations, though we hardly know why; and if educated to them, we might acquire what might almost be considered a new sense. But be this as it may, there can be no doubt but that a great deal of the beauty which all feel in contemplating the architectural productions of the Greeks, arises from causes such as these, which we are only now beginning to appreciate.

To understand, however, the Doric order, we must not regard it as a merely masonic form. Sculpture was always used, or intended to be used, with it. The Metopes between the triglyphs, the pediments of the porticoes, and the acroteria or pedestals on the roof, are all unmeaning and useless unless filled or surmounted with sculptured figures. Sculpture is, indeed, as essential a part of this order as the acanthus-leaves and ornaments of the cornice are to the capitals and entablature of the Corinthian order; and without it, or without its place being supplied by painting, we are merely looking at the dead skeleton, the mere framework of the order, without the flesh and blood that gave it life and purpose.

It is when all these parts are combined together, as in the portico of the Parthenon (Woodcut No. 139), that we can understand this order in all its perfection; for though each part was beautiful in itself, their full value can be appreciated only as parts of a great whole.

Another essential part of the order, too often overlooked, is the colour, which was as integral a part of it as its form. Till very lately, it was denied that Greek temples were, or could be, painted: the unmistakable remains of colour, however, that have been discovered in almost all temples, and the greater knowledge of the value and use of it which now prevails, have altered public opinion very much on the matter, and most people now admit that some colour was used, though few are agreed as to the extent to which it was carried.

It cannot now be questioned that colour was used everywhere internally, and on every object. Externally too it is generally admitted that the sculpture was painted and relieved by strongly coloured backgrounds; the lacunaria, or recesses of the roof, were also certainly painted; and all the architectural mouldings, which at a later period were carved in relief, have been found to retain traces of their painted ornaments.

It is disputed whether the echinus or carved moulding of the capital was so ornamented. There seems little doubt but that it was; and that the walls of the cells were also coloured throughout and covered with paintings illustrative of the legends and attributes of the divinity to whom the temple was dedicated or of the purposes for which it was erected. The plane face of the architrave was probably left white, or merely ornamented with metal shields or inscriptions, and the shafts of the columns appear also to have been left plain, or merely slightly stained to tone down the crudeness of the white marble. Generally speaking, all those parts which from their form or position were in any degree protected from the rain or atmospheric influences seem to have been coloured; those particularly exposed, to have been left plain. To whatever extent, however, painting may have been carried, these coloured ornaments were as essential a part of the Doric order as the carved ornaments were of the Corinthian, and made it, when perfect, a richer and more ornamental, as it was a more solid and stable, order than the latter. The colour nowhere interfered with the beauty of its forms, but gave it that richness and amount of ornamentation which is indispensable in all except the most colossal buildings, and a most valuable adjunct even to them.

The Ionic order, as we now find it, is not without some decided advantages over the Doric. It is more complete in itself and less dependent on sculpture. Its frieze was too small for much display of human life and action, and was probably usually ornamented with lines of animals,^[141] like the friezes at Persepolis. But the frieze of the little temple of Nikè Apteros is brilliantly ornamented in the same style as those of the Doric order. It also happened that those details and ornaments which were only painted in the Doric, were carved in the Ionic order, and remain therefore visible to the present day, which gives to this order a completeness in our eyes which the other cannot boast of. Add to this a certain degree of Asiatic elegance and grace, and the whole when put together makes up a singularly pleasing architectural object. But notwithstanding these advantages, the Doric order will probably always be admitted to be superior, as belonging to a higher class of art, and because all its forms and details are better and more adapted to their purpose than those of the Ionic.

The principal characteristic of the Ionic order is the Pelasgic or Asiatic spiral, here called a volute, which, notwithstanding its elegance, forms at best but an awkward capital. The Assyrian honeysuckle below this, carved as it is with the exquisite feeling and taste which a Greek alone knew how to impart to such an object, forms as elegant an architectural detail as is anywhere to be found; and whether used as the necking of a column, or on the crowning member of a cornice, or on other parts of the order, is everywhere the most beautiful ornament connected with it. Comparing this order with that at Persepolis (Woodcut No. 96), the only truly Asiatic prototype we have of it, we see how much the Doric feeling of the Greeks had done to sober it down, by abbreviating the capital and omitting the greater part of the base. This process was carried much farther when the order was used in conjunction with the Doric, as in the Propylæa, than when used by itself, as in the Erechtheium; still in every case all the parts found in the Asiatic style are found in the Greek. The same form and feelings pervade both; and, except in beauty of execution and detail, it is not quite clear how far even the Greek order is an improvement on the Eastern one. The Persepolitan base is certainly the more beautiful of the two; so are many parts of the capital. The perfection of the whole, however, depends on the mode in which it is employed; and it is perfectly evident that the Persian order could not be combined with the Doric, nor applied with much propriety as an external order, which was the essential use of all the Grecian forms of pillars.

When used between antæ or square piers, as seems usually to have been the case in Assyria, the two-fronted form of the Ionic capital was appropriate and elegant; but when it was employed, as in the Erechtheium, as an angle column, it presented a difficulty which even Grecian skill and ingenuity could not quite conquer. When the Persians wanted the capital to face four ways they turned the side outwards, as at Persepolis (Woodcut No. 96), and put the volutes in the angles—which was at best but an awkward mode of getting over the difficulty.

The instance in which these difficulties have been most successfully met is in the internal order at Bassæ. There the three sides are equal, and are equally seen—the fourth is attached to the wall—and the junction of the faces is formed with an elegance that has never been surpassed. It has not the richness of the order of the Erechtheium, but it excels it in elegance. Its widely spreading base still retains traces of the wooden origin of the order, and carries us back towards the times when a shoe was necessary to support wooden posts on the floor of an Assyrian hall.

Notwithstanding the amount of carving which the Ionic order displays, there can be little doubt of its having been also ornamented with colour to a considerable extent, but probably in a different manner from the Doric. My own impression is, that the carved parts were gilt, or picked out with gold, relieved by coloured grounds, varied according to the situation in which they were found. The existing remains prove that colours were used in juxtaposition, to relieve and heighten the architectural effect of the carved ornaments of this order.

In the Ionic temples at Athens the same exquisite masonry was used as in the Doric; the same mathematical precision and care is bestowed on the entasis of the columns, the drawing of the volutes, and the execution of even the minutest details; and much of its beauty and effect are no doubt owing to this circumstance, which we miss so painfully in nearly all modern examples.

Corinthian Order.

As before mentioned, the Corinthian order was only introduced into Greece on the decline of art, and never rose during the purely Grecian age to the dignity of a temple order. It most probably, however, was used in the more ornate specimens of domestic architecture, and in smaller works of art, long before any of those examples of it were executed which we now find in Greece.

The most typical specimen we now know is that of the Choragic Monument of Lysicrates (Woodcut No. 143), which, notwithstanding all its elegance of detail and execution, can hardly be pronounced to be perfect, the Egyptian and Asiatic features being only very indifferently united to one another. The foliaged part is rich and full, but is not carried up into the upper or Ionic portion, which is, in comparison, lean and poor; and though separately the two parts are irreproachable, it was left to the Romans so to blend the two together as to make a perfectly satisfactory whole out of them.

In this example, as now existing, the junction of the column with the capital is left a plain sinking, and so it is generally copied in modern times; but there can be little doubt that this was originally filled by a bronze wreath, which was probably gilt. Accordingly this is so represented in the woodcut as being essential to the completion of the order. The base and shaft have, like the upper part of the capital, more Ionic feeling in them than the order was afterwards allowed to retain; and altogether it is, as here practised, far more elegant, though less complete, than the Roman form which superseded it.

The other Athenian example, that of the Tower of the winds (Woodcut No. 144), is remarkable as being almost purely Egyptian in its types, with no Ionic admixture. The columns have no bases, the capitals no volutes, and the water-leaf clings as closely to the bell as it does in the Egyptian examples. The result altogether wants richness, and, though appropriate on so small a scale, would hardly be pleasing on a larger.

The great example of the Temple of Jupiter Olympius differs in no essential part from the Roman order, except that the corners of the abacus are not cut off; and that, being executed in Athens, there is a degree of taste and art displayed in its execution which we do not find in any Roman examples. Strictly speaking, however, it belongs to that school, and should be enumerated as a Roman, and not as a Grecian, example.

It has been already explained that the Egyptians never used caryatide figures, properly so called, to support the entablatures of their architecture, their figures being always attached to the front of the columns or piers, which were the real bearing mass. At Persepolis, and elsewhere in the East, we find figures everywhere employed supporting the throne or the platform of the palaces of the kings; not, indeed, on their heads, as the Greeks used them, but rather in their uplifted hands.

The name, however, as well as their being only used in conjunction with the Ionic order and with Ionic details, all point to an Asiatic origin for this very questionable form of art. As employed in the little Portico attached to the Erechtheium, these figures are used with so much taste, and all the ornaments are so elegant, that it is difficult to criticise or find fault; but it is nevertheless certain that it was a mistake which even the art of the Greeks could hardly conceal. To use human figures to support a cornice is unpardonable, unless it is done as a mere secondary adjunct to a building. In the Erechtheium it is a little too prominent for this, though used with as much discretion as was perhaps possible under the circumstances. Another example of the sort is shown in Woodcut No. 146, which, by employing a taller cap, avoids some of the objections to the other; but the figure itself, on the other hand, is less architectural, and so errs on the other side.

Another form of this class of support is that of the Giants or Telamones, instances of which are found supporting the roof of the great Temple at Agrigentum, and in the baths of the semi-Greek city of Pompeii. As they do not actually bear the entablature, but only seem to relieve the masonry behind them, their employment is less objectionable than that of the female figures above described; but even they hardly fulfil the conditions of true art, and their place might be better filled by some more strictly architectural feature.

Forms of Temples.

The arrangements of Grecian Doric temples show almost less variety than the forms of the pillars, and no materials exist for tracing their gradual development in an historical point of view. The temples at Corinth, and the oldest at Selinus, are both perfect examples of the hexastyle arrangement to which the Greeks adhered in all ages; and though there can be little doubt that the peripteral form, as well as the order itself, was borrowed from Egypt, it still was so much modified before it appeared in Greece, that it would be interesting, if it could be done, to trace the several steps by which the change was effected.

In an architectural point of view this is by no means difficult. The simplest Greek temples were mere cells, or small square apartments suited to contain an image—the front being what is technically called distyle in antis, or with two pillars between antæ, or square pilaster like piers terminating the side walls. Hence the interior enclosure of Grecian temples is called the cell or cella, however large and splendid it may be.

The next change was to separate the interior into a cell and porch by a wall with a large doorway in it, as in the small temple at Rhamnus (Woodcut No. 148), where the opening however can scarcely be called a doorway, as it extends to the roof. A third change was to put a porch of 4 pillars in front of the last arrangement, or, as appears to have been more usual, to bring forward the screen to the positions of the pillars as in the last example, and to place the 4 pillars in front of this. None of these plans admitted of a peristyle, or pillars on the flanks. To obtain this it was necessary to increase the number of pillars of the portico to 6, or, as it is termed, to make it hexastyle, the 2 outer pillars being the first of a range of 13 or 15 columns, extended along each side of the temple. The cell in this arrangement was a complete temple in itself—distyle in antis, most frequently made so at both ends, and the whole enclosed in its envelope of columns, as in Woodcut No. 149. Sometimes the cell was tetrastyle or with four pillars in front.