The steps of the stylobate below run in perspective along the left-hand side of the drawing. Over the drums of the fallen columns of the Parthenon, which strew the ground to the right, we see the whole east side of the Propylæa; above it are the olive groves of the Kephissus and the mountains of Daphni, with a glimpse of the Bay of Salamis.

sandals were embellished with carving. On the front of the pedestal also there was a picture of the mythical creation of Pandora in the presence of twenty divinities. The statue expressed the Hellenic aspirations of Pheidias as an artist and of Pericles as a statesman; and, as if to commemorate their harmonious influence, the great sculptor covertly introduced into the relief on the outside of Athena’s shield his own portrait and that of his friend—the former in the guise of a bald-headed old man lifting up a stone with both hands, the latter as a warrior fighting with an Amazon, his face partially concealed by his raised hand holding a spear. On this account some of Pheidias’ enemies brought against him a charge of impiety, founded upon an old law which forbade the setting up in sacred places of the images of living men. They had previously tried to ruin him by accusing him of embezzling part of the gold entrusted to him, but the charge had been triumphantly refuted by the actual weighing of the gold on the image, which was found to correspond exactly to the amount assigned for this object. Unfortunately the charge of impiety could not be so easily refuted, and, in spite of Pericles’ advocacy, Pheidias was compelled to pay a heavy fine and was thrown into prison, from which he does not appear to have been ever set free.

No monument seems ever to have been erected in honour of Pheidias, but for more than 2000 years the Parthenon, which will always be associated with his memory, retained the beauty of its exterior unimpaired. On the official abolition of the Greek religion by the Emperor Justinian in the end of the sixth century A.D. it was converted into the church of the “Virgin Mother of God,” which necessitated considerable changes on its interior to fit it for Christian worship. At a later time it was turned into a Turkish mosque, a minaret being added to it. In 1687 it was used as a powder magazine by the Turks, in their endeavours to hold the Acropolis against the Venetians under Morosini, who had already taken the city. This use of it became known to the besiegers, and by a well-directed shot a bomb was thrown into the magazine, causing a terrific explosion which blew out the roof and the two sides of the building—the combatants little realising what an irreparable loss had thus been inflicted on the interests of civilisation and art. Morosini would fain have carried off to Venice the chief figures on the west pediment, but, owing to the awkwardness of the workers employed, the precious sculptures fell to the ground and were broken to pieces.

There was on the Acropolis another colossal image of Athena—referred to by Demosthenes as “the great bronze Athena”—which had been set up as a memorial of Athenian valour in the Persian war from funds contributed by the rest of the Greeks. The base of its pedestal is still shown on the Acropolis between the Propylæa and the Erechtheum. Pausanias tells us that the gleaming crest of the helmet and tip of the spear could be seen by ships sailing from Cape Sunium to Athens. There is good reason for identifying this Athena Promachos (“Champion”), as it came to be called