Ancient of days! august Athena! where,
Where are thy men of might? thy grand in soul?
Gone—glimmering through the dream of things that were.
First in the race that led to Glory's goal,—
They're sought in vain, and o'er each mouldering tower,
Dim with the mist of years, grey flits the shade of power.
To Ictinus is also to be ascribed the most perfect vestige of antiquity now in existence, the Temple of the Apollo Epicurius, in Arcadia, and which is reported to have been one of the most splendid buildings of the Peloponnesus. The magnificent columns which 'crown Sunium's marble steep,' belong to the same era, and probably to the same school. For sixty years afterwards, we have no decline in the grandeur or purity of the Doric, as yet appears in the ruins of Messene, a city built by Epaminondas, and still exhibiting the most perfect specimen of ancient military architecture. But the victories of this warrior were parricidal triumphs; they were gained over those who ought to have been as brothers. In sculpture, we have already seen that this era marks the retrogression of the manly and the grand in style; it is so in architecture, for in less than forty years, a great declension in these respects must have taken place in this the grandest and most severe of the orders, as is attested by the specimen in the isle of Delos, inscribed with the name of Philip of Macedon. After this the Doric either fell into desuetude, or the works have perished, for the only remaining example is the portico, erected by Augustus in one of the agorai or squares of Athens.
Of the remains of Doric architecture in the ancient seats of the Sicilan and Italian colonies, the dates, even with ordinary accuracy, it is impossible individually to ascertain. The former claim the highest antiquity in some, but not in all instances. The temple of Egesta, in the interior of the island, is perhaps one of the oldest, yet among the least imperfect monuments of the art in Europe; contemporary or earlier, is the temple of Minerva, at Syracuse; the other remains near that city are of a later date. The ponderous ruins at Selinus, which consist of no less than six temples, one of which, three hundred and thirty-one feet in length, composed of a double peristyle of columns sixty feet high, must have presented one of the sublimest objects ever reared by human art. Ruins at Agrigentum—Temple of Juno most picturesque, of Concord very perfect—three others, last the grand Temple of Olympian Jupiter, one of the most stupendous buildings of the ancient world, and whose buried materials swell into hills or subside in valleys, over which we have ourselves wandered, without at first knowing that we trode upon the prostrate labours of man, and not the workings of nature.
With the exception of the two first, these remains as also the Temple of Apollo, at Gela, seem to be nearly of the same age. Indeed, their erection can be fixed between certain limits, by comparison of historical details, in which, either by direct mention or inference, a connexion is traced between the political condition and the arts of the Sicilian cities. Proceeding in this manner, it is found that all of these enormous piles rose in little more than a century, embracing the greater part of the fifth, and the early portion of the fourth, before our era. These edifices thus fall in with the interval already noticed between the earliest Doric buildings in Greece, and the erection of the Athenian temples. Accordingly, there appear in them more noble proportions and a greater elevation of column than in the former, still without the graceful majesty of the latter. Under what circumstances, however, or by what science, many of these wonderful fabrics were reared, history affords no information. Of the rise and the overthrow, for instance, of the temples at Selinus, we know nothing; some even doubt whether human power could have overthrown what it had elevated; and ascribe the regular prostration of the gigantic columns, each often exactly in a line, extending outwards from its base, as if overturned but yesterday, to the concussion of an earthquake. These appearances we have certainly remarked with astonishment, and have beheld, and measured, and wandered amid the ruins, with admiration not unmingled with awe; but the truth was obvious, that the same age which could arrange these masses into symmetry, could also have cast them down as they now lie. And we know that it was the same age—for one page, almost one sentence, records both their rise and their fall. Yet of the energies and knowledge of that age, our own has no conception. The riches of any one of the sovereigns of Europe, and the skill of his wisest subjects, would barely suffice for the erection of only one of the six Selinuntine temples—the works of a distant colony of Greece. That this may not appear exaggeration, let the reader contemplate for a moment an edifice—the porticos of which alone would require one hundred columns of stone, each sixty feet high, and thirty in circumference—such was the great Temple of Selinus.
The celebrated ruins of Pæstum, consisting of two temples and a quadrangular portico, containing eighteen columns in flank, and seven in front, compose the only Grecian Doric remains in Italy. The date and origin of these structures will probably ever remain liable to doubt. This arises partly from the singular nature of some of the buildings themselves, as well as from the obscurity which rests upon this portion of history in general. The greater of the two temples bears evident character of the same design and architectural principles as the Sicilian edifices; between which latter, indeed, as compared with each other, there exists, in this respect, a very striking uniformity, pointing to a nearly contemporary erection. Hence the inference seems clear, that to the same era the Pæstan ruin is to be referred, and that it is the work of Greek colonists from Sybaris, who, from the middle of the sixth century B. C., for more than two hundred years enjoyed peaceable possession of this part of Lucania. This temple, though not equal in magnitude to some ruins in Sicily, is a very noble, and the largest pile in a state of such perfection out of Greece. Not a single column of the outer peristylia is wanting. It was within this 'pillared range,' during the moonlight of a troubled sky, we experienced emotions of the awful and sublime, such as impress a testimony, never to be forgotten, of the power of art over the affections of the mind.
The other ruins, which some consider a temple and a hall of justice, others, with greater probability, two temples, though, like the former in situation,
They stand between the mountain and the sea,
Awful memorials, but of whom we know not,
are far inferior in dignity of effect and purity of style. Nor are these defects the consequences of a progressive knowledge advancing to better things, they are evident corruptions of ancient simplicity. Both these are to be referred to a period posterior to the Roman conquest of the city, which occurred in the 481st year of Rome, that is, not three centuries before our era. Of the same age are the walls, remaining in considerable entireness, especially the eastern gate, as represented in the vignette, where the voussoirs, or arch-stones, still span the entrance.
Here it may be proper, without going into the particular facts and reasonings upon which the inference is founded, merely to state, that, regarding the introduction of the arch into classic architecture, the weight of evidence is against any knowledge of its use or construction prior to the era of Alexander. Indeed, the arch is contrary to the whole genius of the Greek system, which delights in the simplicity of horizontal and perpendicular lines, to which the contrasts, minute divisions, and constantly recurring breaks of arched building, are most directly opposed. During the pure ages of truly Grecian taste, the very improvements and changes which successively ensued, all tended to guide invention farthest from the arch. To add elevation to the column, and to increase the unbroken length of the entablature, were objects most directly pursued. The greater richness or variety of ornament thus admitted, was an advantage rather incidental than contemplated, though with exquisite skill rendered available—