It is fortunate for us that we have more remains of the two cities where architecture was carried to the greatest perfection, than of any other. The immensity of Rome, and the vast multitude of public buildings which adorned it, might lead one to expect that we should meet there with more remains than elsewhere, but Athens never was a very large city, nor do the public buildings in it appear to have been constructed on a larger scale than in many others. In each of these cities we probably see the remains of some of the finest examples. Judging from the fragments found at Rome, we may pronounce that there were many other buildings of great beauty, but none which we could wish to exchange for the temple of Mars Ultor, of Jupiter Stator, of Jupiter Tonans, of Antoninus and Faustina, or for the portico of the Pantheon. The temple of Jupiter Capitolinus was indeed larger than any of these, but we may doubt if its architecture were better, or even so good. Here there are fewer objects to distract the attention, and we may be assured that the Parthenon, the Erectheum, the Propylæa, and the temple of Theseus, were the principal objects of beauty in the time of Athenian splendour, and if there were others which rivalled, there were none which pretended to surpass them. That we have remains of the best edifices of Hadrian and Herodes Atticus, is not quite so certain, but we know from several examples that architecture had fallen, at that period, from the dignity and purity which it possessed in the time of Pericles.

I have, on a former occasion, attempted to explain what were the peculiarities of situation which gave effect to the Roman buildings. They occupied in many instances points of land advancing into the general line of the valley of the Tiber. The spectator was in the centre, the objects were round him. In Athens it was exactly the reverse; the objects were grouped together on a hill in the centre, which displayed its magnificence on every side. At Rome, the beholder was dazzled by the multiplicity of objects. At Athens he was impressed by their simplicity and unity, for, from every point of view, the public edifices which crowded the summit, and were disposed on the slopes of the Acropolis, would combine to form a single whole. In both nature and art seemed to have united to produce an harmonious effect, and even in the style of architecture, the richness and grandeur of the Roman, and the grace and elegance of the Athenian, seem alike suited to the disposition of the buildings, and the stations they occupied. It is remarkable, that both these cities should have been so admirably placed. Paris hardly offers a single marked situation; Naples would have been better, had some of its principal edifices occupied the Chiatamone; Milan is on a flat; Florence merely in a fine valley. London would be preferable to any of these for the display of architecture, but we have taken no advantage of the steep bank rising from the Thames, which, though rather too low, would nevertheless afford admirable situations for public buildings. The present circumstances of Athens and Rome are no less strikingly opposed to each other than the situation and style of architecture. Rome is adorned, and frequently incumbered with modern magnificence; the Athenian ruins are either insulated or surrounded by mere huts. At Rome the buildings are numerous, and very much decayed; at Athens they are few, and much more perfect. Indeed, the mere lapse of time seems to have had very little effect on those of the latter city. Earthquakes have shaken, explosions have shattered, and avarice has despoiled them, but a great deal of what remains, remains absolutely perfect, except in the more delicate and exposed sculpture, and even of the sculpture a considerable portion is as fresh as if it were only just finished. The modern manners of Greece and Italy have introduced a style of domestic architecture in the two cities completely different. In one country each family inhabits a story, or perhaps only a suite of apartments, and many families live consequently under the same roof. In the other, such a system would be profanation: each family occupies its own little house, shut out from the rest of the world by being placed in a court, and instead of six or seven stories, as in Italy, we here rarely find more than two. Nature seems to delight in adding to these contrasts. At Rome the atmosphere is remarkably quiet; at Athens the winds are frequent and impetuous. At Rome, on the contrary, the recurrence of thunder-storms is frequent, and they are extremely violent; at Athens, thunder is rare: but this remark is so very wide of my subject, that it reminds me to return to it.

You will think I have said enough of the Acropolis, but I must still take you round the outside of the walls, and we will notice a few adjoining antiquities as we proceed. There is a sitting statue of early Greek workmanship on the ascent to the Acropolis, and a beautiful, but much injured capital of a peculiar style near the entrance; there is also in the way up a fountain of brackish water, which is said to run only in summer. A well within the Acropolis, the water of which is not good, is perhaps connected with this. Beginning below the Propylæa, we observe between that edifice and the lower modern battery, some ancient piers built up in the present walls, which seem to announce the most ancient access to the Acropolis, the materials and style of masonry are like that which I have mentioned as existing under the north-west angle of the Propylæa, and as being in all likelihood, prior to the age of Pericles. Taking our course along the northern side of the hill, we meet with the grotto of Pan; a hollow in the rock of no great extent, with numerous square and circular recesses cut apparently for the reception of votive tablets. At a little distance there is a vault descending from the Acropolis, and some steps passing over part of it; these steps have been thought to belong to the entrance of the original Acropolis, but this is at best very doubtful, and I have no theory as to their probable object or date. Proceeding farther, the rock is extremely uneven, both in height and direction, and there are many hollows in it, but of no considerable depth. Some of them appear to have had votive tablets, and perhaps architectural ornaments. In the wall above, we see parts of an enormous entablature; it is twice interrupted, but recurs again at the same level, as if it were placed by design, and not accidentally. The architrave, triglyphs, and cornice, are of limestone; but the metopes are slabs of marble. Two theories have been made for this; one is supported by M. Fauvel, who thinks it a portion of the regular finish of the work. If so its size was proportioned, not to the mere height of the wall, for in some places the space below this crowning is hardly more than the height of the entablature itself, but to that of the rock and wall together. The other theory takes into consideration what we are told of the mode of erecting these walls after the Persian invasion, when to avoid the effects of Lacedæmonian jealousy, they were reconstructed in the greatest haste, and of any materials which first came to hand, however previously employed. These fragments, therefore, may either have belonged to the old temple of Minerva, or to that of Jupiter Olympus, which was also a large edifice of the Doric order. I should incline to Fauvel’s opinion, were it not that several marble frusta of columns, a little farther on, which seem to correspond in size with this entablature, give some additional weight to the latter theory. These frusta are not finished; the circular shape is determined, and a smoothed ring on the edge of each frustum marks the intended size of the column, but the rest of the surface is rough, and the projections left as means to lift them into their places still remain. Farther on there are vestiges of very ancient walls below the foot of the rock, which may be traced at intervals more than half round the Acropolis; at the east end is a large cavern, which penetrates the rock to a considerable extent: it seems to be formed by the destruction of a loose breccia, which in some parts becomes a mere gravel. Turning round to the south side we meet with several ancient foundations composed of large blocks of Magnesian limestone. Just above the choragic monument of Thrasyllus, there are two detached columns, with triangular capitals, ornamented with leaves and volutes, but of little beauty; these are also testimonials of the same sort with that monument, and have supported tripods, as is shewn by the cramp-holes remaining at the top. In one of them a statue has probably at some period taken the place of the tripod, and the square pedestal placed on the abacus to receive it still remains. Below this monument is a large hollow, which is supposed to have contained the theatre of Bacchus, for it is now generally acknowledged, that what Stuart has published under that name, is the theatre of Herodes Atticus. The range of arches extending from the hollow to the latter building seems a very mixed production, with no very clear intimations of genuine antiquity. The Odeum, or theatre of Herodes, is partly of brick, and partly of Magnesian limestone.

I shall not attempt to follow the order of place in the few remaining remarks I have to make on Athenian antiquities.

I mentioned the Temple of Jupiter Olympus on our arrival, but so important an edifice must not be passed over with so slight a notice. A building under this name was begun by Pisistratus, or perhaps still earlier. This we may suppose to have been destroyed by the Persians. Pericles seems to have done nothing towards its completion or re-erection; perhaps Jupiter, in his time, was not a popular deity. Livy mentions it as built by Antiochus, and as the only temple worthy the majesty of the god; but the passage is defective. Vitruvius also says that it was built by Antiochus, and that Cossutius, a Roman, was the architect. According to Pliny, Sylla carried away its columns to Rome, but in the immense multitude of fragments remaining in that city, there is not a single example of a column, or a portion of a column, of large diameter, of Pentelic marble. Several Asiatic sovereigns are said to have paid their court to Augustus by contributing to its restoration (an odd way of gaining favour), and to this epoch I would attribute all the existing columns, for it contains several particulars which render it probable that it was prior to Hadrian’s time. To judge of the date of a building, either by its design or execution, it is necessary to compare many different works, for every edifice will have something peculiar to itself, and without several examples it is impossible to distinguish these individual peculiarities from those which are characteristic of the age; and we have few examples of architecture in Greece, whose date we can determine, between the time of Alexander and that of Hadrian. My principal guide in this instance is in the foliage of the capitals. I have already mentioned to you the difference of forms adopted by the artists of Greece and Rome in this respect, and that the latter usually made the lower divisions of the leaves to lap over the other, (fig. 4) while the former only made them touch; but there also appears to have been a pretty regular progress among the Greeks themselves in the arrangement of these divisions. In the earlier examples, the upper point of the lower division just touches the lowest point of the division above it, (fig. 1). This is the case in the monument of Lysicrates, (I am sorry to say that Stuart is not good authority in this respect, he has nowhere sufficiently attended to the character of the foliage), and such also is the case in this temple of Jupiter Olympus. Afterwards the upper point of the lower division touched not the point, but the side of the division above it: (fig. 2) of this we have only fragments. In the latest specimens two points of the lower divisions touch, or nearly touch, the sides of the upper: (fig. 3) of this the fragments are very numerous, and often executed in a very dry and tasteless manner. What I suppose Clarke to mean by his early Corinthian capital, is often thus formed, and is the work of the lower empire. In the arch of Hadrian this practice is begun, but not fully established, and the leaves are gracefully drawn. Now if you ask me why I refer these columns to the time of Augustus rather than that of Antiochus, to which these observations seem to apply at least equally well, I must refer you to the authority of Pliny, and the spoliation of Sylla; for I have no internal evidence.

In all ruins the mind speculates on what the building has been, and where the remains are magnificent, on the power, the riches, the zeal, and intelligence requisite to produce it; and finds no small degree of pleasure in that employment. In this temple there is ample field for such speculations, enough still remains to indicate both the disposition of the building, and that of the court in which it stood, which was probably surrounded with columns. The columns remaining belonged to the temple itself; the smaller ones were more easily taken away; the size of the large ones has been their protection. One of them, which was standing in Stuart’s time, has however been destroyed by a governor of Athens, and the materials employed in the erection of a mosque, but the experiment did not succeed; for the pashaw of Negropont hearing of it, made it a pretence to extort money from him, on the ground that he had appropriated to himself the property of the grand signor. These columns are above 6 feet in diameter, and nearly 60 feet high, that is, they are somewhat thicker than those of the portico of Covent Garden theatre, and almost twice as high. They are of the Corinthian order, and their sculptured capitals still remain. There must have been originally, at least one hundred and sixteen of them: they are of Pentelic marble, but many of the blocks are much veined with mica slate, and resemble cipollino, but with a purer ground. It appears probable that thicker blocks might be obtained of this, than of the pure white marble. The workmanship is excellent, though perhaps not equal to that of the Phidian architecture. Their physical beauty is enhanced by the various effects of their grouping, as seen in different positions, and by the stains of a yellowish, or rather of an orange hue, which time has produced in all the edifices of this marble. It is probably owing to the action of the air on a small quantity of iron, contained in the mica which the Pentelic marble is never without. As perfect buildings, perhaps the original colour was the best, but as ruins, their beauty is certainly increased by the present tints. These remains are unincumbered by any modern building, except a little sort of hut, erected on a piece of the architrave, the traditional residence of a Stylite; and they are placed on an artificial platform, on a bank rising from the Ilissus, supported by a buttressed wall, part of which still remains. The height of the bases is unequal, and the plinths of the inner columns rest on blocks of hard limestone, but there is a sinking of about two inches below them, as if to receive a marble pavement. One of the outer range of plinths also rests on a similar limestone, except in front, where there is a block of marble, and the top of this would have been exactly level with the surface of the marble pavement. The three first columns of the south range rest on marble, and the paving between them is of the same material.

The gateway known by the name of the Arch of Hadrian is near these columns. It has perhaps rather a foolish and unmeaning look, and the more so, from the comparison of its little columns with their gigantic neighbours. Yet still it is an interesting monument; the beauty of the material, the excellence of the workmanship, the almost perfect state in which it exists, and a certain lightness and even elegance in the disposition of its upper part, demand a considerable degree of admiration. Wilkins has proposed a new reading of the inscription over the gateway, by which he makes the city of Theseus to lie on the outside of this archway, and the city of Hadrian between it and the Acropolis. I could not resist the temptation of making a view of it, standing directly in front, and looking north-westward. In this position,^[30] the writer tells us that the Acropolis is out of the field of view, while according to my notions it occupies half the picture.

I will spare you any details of the Gymnasium of Ptolemy, or of the Stoa, since I have no additions to make to your knowledge of either.

The narrow ridge of the Areopagus would hardly afford room for a court of justice, but the rocks are cut in all parts, apparently for the reception of buildings, and this is also in a considerable degree the case with the hill called Lycabettus; indeed all the three hills, Lycabettus, Pnyx, and Musæum, are covered with traces of human labour. Among them are subterranean cones, probably receptacles for corn, and from one of these cones we observed a passage into a cylindrical pit, not bigger than a well. Fragments of terra cotta also abound in some places, and now and then a small piece of marble, but this material was probably little, if at all used, in private buildings.

The area on the Pnyx, supposed to be the place of assembly, is in part sustained by a wall of vast stones, forming a line convex outwards; the largest of them is about 10 feet by 8 on the face, but I do not know its thickness. The space above is nearly a large sector of a circle, not much less than a semicircle, with the beema (βημα) in the centre of the circle. This remains as a raised platform with steps up to it, but the area slopes in all directions from the beema, a circumstance very inconvenient for public speaking. Just above this is another area, somewhat similar, but on a smaller scale, and the rocks above it are cut in a manner which might make one imagine a sort of pulpit in this part also. From this upper area the sea may be seen, which from the lower would be quite invisible. In both instances the speaker must have turned his back upon it. Can these circumstances have anything to do with the change in the situation of the beema attributed to the thirty tyrants? By the side of the lower beema, which is much more distinct than the other, there are a number of little, square recesses, which are supposed to have been intended to receive tablets of notices, or of decrees.

After descending a little from this area, we begin the ascent of the third and highest of these three hills; which abounds like the others with vestiges of ancient habitancy, and here and there exhibits a small portion of the foundation of the city wall. The monument of Philopappus crowns the summit. I have nothing particular to say of this edifice, but the view from it is very fine, comprising the whole of the plain of Athens, and the Saronic Gulf, and their surrounding mountains, beyond which other mountains appear in distant perspective. Indeed when lighted up, as I have seen it under a brilliant sunset, it presents a scene of matchless splendour, as enchanting to the senses as to the imagination.

The Stadium of Herodes Atticus is a little way out of Athens, among (if I may so express myself) the roots of Hymettus. The eminences which immediately bound it seem to have approached each other, but their absolute union at the circular end is artificial. The short valley thus obtained was lengthened by two great piers of rubble-work; the stone facing which once completed them is gone, and exposes the rubble, evidently laid in successive courses with a coat of stucco or mortar between each. On the right hand are vast foundations of the same nature, forming, as is supposed, the substruction of the temple of Victory, and of the immense flight of steps continued to it from the Stadium: on the left are traces of other edifices, which are said to have constituted parts of the temple of Fortune. The channel of an occasional torrent passes under the mound at the upper end. The whole effect must have been very splendid in its original state, but it is now almost reduced again to its natural condition. All its marbles and squared stones have been taken away, and the fragments of rubble which remain are hardly distinguishable from the native rock, which bursts frequently from the soil all around. The course was perhaps further lengthened by a magnificent bridge, certainly not wanted for crossing the Ilissus, and as the width of the way at the top must have been more than 60 feet, it could hardly have been intended for a mere passage, even if the Ilissus were really a river. Stuart figures the three arches as remaining, but they have all now disappeared, and some peasants were at work when I was there in detaching the squared masonry of the piers, so that a few shapeless masses of rubble will probably, in a few years, be all that remains.

The neighbourhood of Athens is everywhere scattered over with ruins, a large portion of which appear to have been tombs. With so many unappropriated fragments, it is almost impossible that we should not find some which might be conceived to be those of the celebrated men of Athens, and accordingly we find many of their names attached to these fragments. They are however, nothing more than foundations, rarely rising more than a few inches above the soil. The evidence of their appropriation is very unsatisfactory, and there is nothing in the remains themselves which would enable us to determine the nature of the edifice. Of those mentioned by Pausanias, it is probable that the greater part were little more than those of our burying-grounds, a small mound of earth, with a short column, or steelee, generally thickest upwards, placed instead of a headstone. Three men in ten days could have performed but little, and there was a law to limit to this degree of exertion the expense of a sepulchre. The place of the Academy is guessed at, rather than known. There can hardly be any great error, but there are no remains, for the few fragments of capitals, and other mouldings of buildings in that direction, cannot be traced to it. The two hills of Colonia are sufficiently evident; natural indications are more durable than artificial. The supposed situation of the Lyceum is in a smaller olive-grove on the Ilissus, a little above Athens, and hereabouts fragments have been found, but there is nothing to identify the precise spot. The whole ground abounds in these vestiges, and many of the travellers here amuse themselves in searching for antiquities. The usual expense in digging is to pay each man sixty parás per diem, with an additional present on any considerable discovery, and twelve parás per diem for every man employed is paid to the owner of the land.

After my speculations on the ancient, I should like to give you some account of the modern productions, but my idea of Turkish architecture is very imperfect, and will probably remain so, as the only place in which it can be appreciated is Constantinople. Yet in what I have seen there are some beautiful particulars, though perhaps, even more than in Italy, they are beauties of a hot climate. The stables, and some of the offices, are on the ground-floor. In our own lodging, the stoves for cooking are under the steps which ascend externally to the upper apartments. The rooms of the master of the family, and many also of those appropriated to the servants are on the first floor. There is occasionally a low story, or mezzanine, between the basement and the principal rooms, but never anything over the latter, except that in large houses there is sometimes a sort of tower rising above the general roof, and containing one large room with windows on three sides, or perhaps all round it. Such a room as this, was the hall with twenty-four windows which terminated the palace of Aladdin in the Arabian Nights. The best house I have seen is that of the bey of Corinth; the principal part of the building is in the form of the letter L, forming two sides of a square, and in the corner is a flight of steps leading to the gallery and the principal floor. This gallery is never omitted in any decent house; it is always of wood, and the principal rooms open immediately into it. Our verandas seem to be imitated from it, but its greater depth, and projecting roof, with deeply ornamented eaves, render it much superior in effect. The entrance into this palace, like that of other houses, is by a court, but externally, the walls rise immediately on the summit of a steep, rocky bank, below which are the gardens, and it thus commands a view of the plain and gulf of Corinth, and the situation is very good both for seeing and being seen; though the almost naked plain of Corinth does not form a very fine foreground. Underneath the gallery, in the court, is a range of arches, which in England you might call Saxon, supported on short, round pillars, which do not correspond with the posts of the gallery above. The walls of this gallery have been ornamentally painted, but the painting and ornaments are almost gone. Beyond the part now described is a range of offices, and beyond these the women’s apartments, which are of course invisible.

The interior of a Turkish room seems formed everywhere on the same model, and the one I have already described to you in our own lodging, though of the poorer sort, is on the same plan with the rest. The lower part is sometimes as large as the upper, sometimes much smaller. A little wooden shaft commonly runs up the sides from the step which separates the two levels, and something of the sort is frequently continued across the room, on the ceiling. The divân surrounds usually three sides of the upper part of the room; here the Turk or Greek reclines for the greatest part of the day, smoking his long pipe, or looking out of the windows, which extend as far as the divân itself; and here, I believe, he sleeps at night. All this part of the dwelling, among the richer Turks, is ornamented with painting and gilding, fancifully, and sometimes tastefully disposed, and the cushions and backs of the divân are covered with silk, and embroidered. The poorer content themselves with inferior materials and less decoration. Every visitor is presented with a pipe and a cup of coffee, and generally with sweetmeats. The porcelain coffee-cup is placed within a cup of metal, often richly ornamented, and it is a merit that the liquor should be very thick. All these little particulars strike the attention when we first meet with them, but they are nothing in words, because they have been so often described that the words are become familiar, though the customs are new.

The early antiquities of this place are so interesting, and the Christian ones of so little importance, that I find it requires a considerable effort to turn my attention at all towards them. The principal church is a gloomy building, divided by ranges of columns, and not distinctly exhibiting the form of the Greek cross. A little church dedicated to St. George, on the side towards mount Anchesmus, is more characteristic. The body of the building is nearly square, with a porch of the whole width opening by three arches. A Greek cross rises above the square, and the intersection is crowned with an octagonal lantern, having a shaft at each angle, supporting a curved rib, and a narrow semicircular-headed opening on each side. The dome is tiled and springs from the angles, so that, as in some churches I have noticed to you in the south of France, the upright faces of the sides of the octagon cut into it. The whole width of this edifice is but 27 feet, and another little church dedicated to the same saint, a little below the monument of Thrasyllus, is still smaller, the nave being but 7 feet wide, but it is very well constructed. These Greek churches, like the ancient temples, must have been for the priests, and not for the people.