Over the talus of the débris from the excavations on the south side of the Acropolis we see the front of the Theatre of Herodes Atticus, with the long portico connecting it with the Theatre of Dionysos. On the Acropolis itself, if we proceed from left to right, are Beulé’s gate, the Propylæa and neighbouring remains, the Erechtheum and the Parthenon. Towering above the east end of the Acropolis is Lycabettos, with the chapel on its summit catching the sunlight. This drawing is intended to convey some idea of the glitter of sunlight upon the splendid series of marble temples and monuments of the Athenian Acropolis.
any one whose presence seemed to endanger the safety of the state. When a vote of this nature was taken, each of the citizens could nominate for banishment any one he chose; but unless 6000 votes were recorded the whole proceedings fell to the ground. The measure seems a strange one, but it provided a safety-valve for political feeling on critical occasions before the institutions of the country had become firmly established. In the course of the fifth century ten politicians were ostracised, the first being Cleisthenes himself, and the last (417 B.C.) Hyperbolus, who was made a scape-goat for Alcibiades and Nicias, the two rival leaders of the day. By another singular enactment, directed against movements of a factious or seditious character, it was obligatory on every citizen, when civil commotions arose, to range himself either on one side or the other—neutrality in such circumstances being regarded as treason to the state.
The constitution established by Cleisthenes remained in force as long as Athens continued to be a free state, with a few additional reforms, which gave it a still more democratic character. The restriction of the archonship to men of wealth was abolished, and the power of the Areopagus, the oldest and most venerable body in Athens, embracing in its membership all who had previously held the office of archon, was reduced to little more than the right of adjudicating in cases of alleged homicide. In the days of Pericles provision was made for the payment of citizens officiating as dicasts or jurymen, and a “Theoric Fund” was also created for the purpose of defraying the expenses of public festivals, and bestowing on each citizen the price of admission to the theatre on such occasions. In course of time this was followed by the payment of citizens for attendance at the meetings of the general assembly.
In the age of Pericles the greatness of Athens reached its culminating point, and never before had democracy been so justified by its results. In the funeral oration delivered by Pericles on one occasion (p. 168) we have an attractive picture of the state whose fortunes he was guiding:—
“From the magnitude of our city, the products of the whole earth are brought to us, so that our enjoyment of foreign luxuries is as much our own and assured as those which we grow at home.... We combine elegance of taste with simplicity of life, and we pursue knowledge without being enervated: we employ wealth not for talking and ostentation, but as a real help in the proper season. The magistrates who discharge public trusts fulfil their domestic duties also—the private citizen, while engaged in professional business, has competent knowledge on public affairs: for we stand alone in regarding the man who keeps aloof from these latter not as harmless but as useless. In fine, I affirm that our city, considered as a whole, is the schoolmistress of Greece.”—Thuc. ii. 40.
The continuity of the Athenian democracy was rudely broken by the Spartans the year after the fateful battle of Ægospotami. Having demolished the walls of the city (which was starved into surrender) amid the flute-playing and dancing of women crowned with wreaths, the Spartans set up the tyranny of the “Thirty,” which gave the Athenians a more bitter experience of injustice, oppression and cruelty than they had experienced even in the closing years of the Peisistratid dynasty. A remarkable proof of the intense hatred of political tyranny which prevailed at Athens nearly half a century later was afforded by the reception given to two young Thracian Greeks, who had at one time studied under Plato, when they repaired to Athens after assassinating Cotys, the tyrant of their country. Partly on general grounds, partly because Cotys had been a dangerous enemy of Athens, they were received with the greatest honour, being admitted to the freedom of the city and presented with golden wreaths. So glowing were the eulogies passed upon them in the Assembly that one of the two felt constrained to declare, “It was a god who did the deed; we only lent our hands.” The feeling against despotic power was scarcely less strong in Magna Græcia, where the iron entered into the soul of many communities under the usurpation of Dionysius of Syracuse, about the beginning of the fourth century B.C. His request for a wife from the city of Rhegium, which was accompanied with a promise of benefactions to the city, was rejected; and in the public discussion of the subject one of the speakers remarked that the daughter of the public executioner would be the only suitable wife for him. Dionysius fared better at Locri, where he obtained the hand of a lady named Doris, the daughter of an eminent citizen, but not till after another citizen, a friend of Plato, had refused his daughter, saying that he would rather see her dead than wedded to a despot. Doris, it is interesting to learn, made her voyage to Syracuse in a magnificent new ship with five banks of oars, and on landing was conveyed to the tyrant’s house in a beautiful chariot drawn by four white horses. The same day Dionysius also married one of his own subjects, and, strange to say, the two ladies were treated with equal respect, and sat with dignity at the same table.
At Athens the drama was one of the most powerful educative influences in the community. The remains of what was no doubt in its time the chief Dionysiac theatre may be seen in the neighbourhood of the Acropolis—part of the southern face of the rock having been scarped to form the back of the theatre. Plato speaks of it as accommodating 30,000 people, but this is probably an exaggeration, 20,000 being nearer the mark. The front seats running round part of the orchestra are in the form of marble thrones, adorned with reliefs on their fronts and sides, and bearing the names of priests and other dignitaries for whom they were intended. These seats probably formed part of the original stone theatre, but the latest inscriptions date from the time of Hadrian. The Emperor’s throne seems to have stood on an elevation (still to be seen) in a central position behind the front row of seats, and images of him were set up in various parts of the theatre—a departure from the example of Lycurgus, who set up statues of the great dramatists, the bases of some of which are still in
