IN treating briefly of the architecture of Greece, though there still
exist remains of astonishing magnitude, and of the greatest beauty yet
attained among men, there are, notwithstanding, manifold difficulties
in the attempt to treat historically of its origin and progress.
Whatever information is to be derived from native writers composes
merely incidental notices, mixed up with those wild traditions and
dreamy lore, in which the Greeks, from ignorance or vanity, or both,
seem to have delighted in wrapping up the sources of their knowledge.
It is almost certain, indeed, that they never possessed, on the
present subject, any writings beyond the mere technical treatises
which must have been in the hands of architects. The compilation
of Vitruvius might be supposed amply to supply this defect of more
original materials; but, as respects the history of the art, this is
not the case. His accounts of the state of architecture in his own
time, that of Augustus, and the various scientific details into which
he enters, are excellent; they show him to have probably possessed all
the requisites which he enumerates as necessary to form an accomplished
architect, high as he rates the profession. The historical department
of his work, again, is extremely defective, not only in point of
research, but in the fanciful nature of the theories. He entirely keeps
out of view all reference to skill anterior to the arts of Greece;
while, with the incredible fables received in that country, he mixes
up no less groundless notions of his own. To these difficulties in the
more ancient sources of information, there is to be added the obscurity
arising from modern hypothesis.
Under these circumstances, and while the present limits preclude
lengthened discussion on any topic, the most eligible and useful
procedure appears to offer in a plain narrative of facts, illustrated
by a description of actual remains, by reference to ancient authors,
particularly Homer, and by analogies drawn from the state of society
and manners. Here there can be given only the general results of such
an inquiry.
The earliest architectural remains in Greece appear to have been
military erections, or at least constructions for the purposes of
defence. This corresponds with the condition of a country, peopled,
as we know this portion of Europe to have been, when first noticed
in history, by different tribes, hostile, generally speaking, to
each other, and in all instances fearing and feared by the rude and
fierce aboriginal possessors. In the instances where comparison can be
instituted, the gigantic elements of these structures, and the manner
of their union, refer us to Egypt, or the cognate style of Syria; most
probably, however, to the former, by way of Crete, which, as already
shown, formed the intervening station in the progress of civilization.
The traditions, whether poetical, or merely narrative, connected with
these monuments--whether they be ascribed to the labours of the gods,
or to the arts of the Cyclops, whence their common appellation--all
point to a foreign origin, and to imported skill. This knowledge, too,
must have been brought from a distance. Even on the adjacent shores of
Asia, we find the walls of Troy ascribed by Homer to celestial skill--a
clear proof that in his time there existed, neither in Greece, nor in
the neighboring regions, experience adequate to such a work.
Of these fortresses, the most celebrated, and probably the most
ancient, is Tiryrns, in the plain of Argos, and attributed to the
Lycians, about six generations prior to the Trojan war. This cyclopean
wall includes a circuit of about a quarter of a mile, enclosing an
inconsiderable elevation above the general level of the plain. Thus
have evidently been composed the defences of the included town; but the
disproportion between the means of security and the object protected
appears amazing, and must have been considered as wonderful even in the
age of Homer, who, in his catalogue, distinguishes this city by the
epithet 'well-walled,' or, as Pope has rendered the passage,
Whom strong Tyrenthé's lofty walls surround.
Indeed, of all the characteristics added to the Grecian confederates,
the distinction of their walled cities is by far the most frequent.
Of all these, however, the one now mentioned only retains a degree of
regularity seeming to bid defiance to further dilapidation from time,
and capable of being overturned only by a force equal to that employed
in the construction. Several entrances are yet to be traced, one of
which has, opening into it, a gallery formed in the thickness of the
wall. It is worthy of remark, that the top of this passage is covered,
exactly as in the great pyramid, by immense stones, placed one on each
side, and meeting at an acute angle in the centre. Near in point of
situation, but somewhat later in time, are the walls of the 'proud
Mycenæ' of Homer, an interesting ruin in the age of Thucydides, four
hundred years before our era. These remains show evident correspondence
with the style of Egypt. The very gateway, described by the author just
mentioned, and subsequently by Pausanius, still remains; formed of
single blocks, the jambs incline narrowing upwards to eight feet, and
support a lintel twelve feet in length.[D]
Next in point of antiquity and preservation to the preceding are those
singular remains in Greece; to which the name of Treasury has been
given, on the supposition, that as the former were constructed as
defences against hostile violence, the latter were erected as places
of security for valuable property. From the frequent mention of such
structures during the heroic age, and from the preservation of the
names, true or false, of two architects, Agamides and Trophonius,
most eminent in their construction, they seem to have been regarded
as of no ordinary importance. We are informed that both states and
individuals had such places of safe custody, before temples either
existed or were employed as repositories for treasure. Of these
buildings, one of the most perfect, and indeed the most interesting
relic of those earliest times, is the treasury of Atreus amid the ruins
of Mycenæ. Externally it presents the appearance of a mound of earth;
but the interior is found to be a magnificent structure, circular,
fifty feet in diameter, and rather more in height, composed of stones
of great size, each course projecting inwards and over the one below,
till, meeting in a small aperture at top, the whole is shut in by a
mass of very large dimensions. The general form is thus a hollow cone,
or paraboloid, the surface of which appears to have been coated with
plates of metal, as brazen nails still remain in many parts. These
defences, both for person and property, prepared with such skill and
solicitude, afford a very striking view of the turbulent and dangerous
state of society. They are, in fact, records, lasting almost as the
Iliad itself, of an age capable of such outrages as gave foundation
to that divine poem, and to whose verisimilitude they thus supply
unequivocal testimony.
Into the condition of domestic architecture during the same period,
neither the poems of Homer, nor any collateral source, afford much
insight. Both in the Iliad and Odyssey, palaces are described, but
in an extremely general as well as indefinite manner. Between these
loose accounts and the graphic delineations which the same author
has given of sculptured ornaments, as in the shield of Achilles, it
is easy to perceive the difference of a description without a model,
and from reality. Sculpture, as a regular art, had already made
progress; the science of architecture was yet unknown. These palaces,
which appear to have answered all purposes of public edifices, are
described as very capacious, as containing numerous apartments, and as
very rich in doors of ivory and gold, with posts of silver; but not
the slightest impression occurs indicative of any regular order of
architectonic ornament or design. Magnificence and lavish profusion of
splendor are everywhere confounded with beauty and grace and regular
art. During the Homeric age, then, it is plain that the orders were
yet unknown--a deduction exactly tallying with the state of art in
Egypt, where from the inspection of existing monuments, it is evident,
that a system or order was in like manner undiscovered. True, the
Egyptian edifices resemble each other in general character, and even
to their measurements agree; but the same building rises into endless
multiplicity of subordinate parts and forms. So Homer heaps riches
upon riches, ornament above ornament, making that fine which he cannot
render great. This affords more valuable evidence of his veracity than
it detracts from his genius. Even the palace of Troy, though Paris
himself is represented as a great architect, is described in the same
general terms:
And now to Priam's stately courts he came,
Raised on arch'd columns of stupendous frame;
O'er these a range of marble structure runs,
The rich pavilion of his fifty sons,
In fifty chambers lodged; and rooms of state,
Opposed to these, where Priam's daughters sat;
Twelve domes for them, and their loved spouses shone,
Of equal beauty, and of polished stone.
This, and indeed almost every other passage referring to the practical
arts of antiquity, is very incorrectly translated. From a comparison
of various original descriptions of palatial buildings, a tolerable
idea of the highest efforts of architecture during the Homeric and
succeeding ages may be obtained. They appear universally to have been
placed so as to enclose a court, along the sides of which ran an open
corridore, formed by pillars; for the word corresponding to column
does not once occur in the Iliad. These pillars, as may still be seen
in Egyptian buildings, were united by flat epistylia or architraves,
for the phrase, 'arched columns,' is nonsense. During the times of the
Iliad, no division of stories appears to have been practised; and the
expression lofty chamber, so often occurring, seems to imply that the
whole was open to the roof; for the apartments, with the exception of
the great hall, do not otherwise induce the idea of great magnitude. In
the Odyssey again, to this mode of division distinct reference is made,
a circumstance which, with many others respecting the arts, points
to a later as the age of that poem. The roof itself may be inferred
from incidental remarks to have been pointed, composed of wooden beams
inclined towards each other, and supported in the central angle by
columns or shafts of wood; for wherever the word occurs in the early
poetical literature of Greece, an internal member is implied, and from
the casual introduction, one of necessity, not ornament, the only
adjunct being lofty or tall, exactly corresponding with the distinction
here supposed.
It is evident, then, that we must examine elsewhere for the origin of
ornamental architecture in Greece. And the only other department of the
art refers to buildings for sacred purposes. But even here, mighty and
graceful as are the existing ruins, many ages elapse before we reach
the era of the temple--where
The whole so measured true, so lessen'd off,
By fine proportion that the marble pile,
Form'd to repel the still or stormy waste
Of rolling ages, light as fabrics look'd,
That from the magic wand aerial rise.
Throughout the whole of the Iliad no mention occurs of a temple in
Greece, except in the second book, evidently incidental, and the
interpolation of some vainly patriotic Athenian rhapsodist. The
passage, indeed, might be condemned, on the grounds of philological
discussion, but it contradicts both the history of art and of religion
in that country. In Troy, the temple of Minerva appears to have been a
mere shrine, in which a statue was enclosed, and probably, in Tenedos,
a temple of Apollo is merely alluded to. During the age of Homer,
then, the primeval altar, common both to Europe and Asia, was the only
sacred edifice known. This differed little from a common hearth; the
sacrifice being in fact a social rite, the victim, at once an offering
to heaven, and the food of man, was prepared by roasting; the first
improvement upon this simple construction appears to have been the
addition of a pavement, an obvious means of cleanliness and comfort.
Yet even this appears to have constituted a distinction at least not
common, since, in particular instances, the pavement is mentioned as a
peculiar ornament. Subsequently, in order to mark in a more conspicuous
manner, and with more dignity, the sacred spot, while the rites should
be equally exposed to the spectators, an open colonnade was added,
enclosing the altar and pavement. Thus the roofless temple might be
said to be finished; but whether this primeval structure existed in
his native country during the age of Homer, does not appear. We remark
here a very striking resemblance between the ancient places of devotion
in Greece, and the Druidical temple of the more northern regions. In
fact, the astonishing remains at Stonehenge present the best known,
and perhaps one of the most stupendous examples ever erected of the
open temple. This species of religious erection appears to have been
co-extensive with the spread of the human race, and not, as generally
supposed, limited to the northern portion of the globe.
The revolutions in Greece, which abolished the regal, while they
respected and increased the pontifical authority, the gradual additions
of magnificence and convenience to the places of sacrifice, producing
at length the regular temple; the change of design from the circle
to the quadrangle; all these can now only be conjectured as to their
causes and progressive vicissitudes. One thing appears certain,
that the earliest approaches to the perfect temple were erections
of wood; and this materially contributed to fix the character of
later architecture: yet there still remain temples of stone, whose
date transcends the epochs of known history. During this interval,
Grecian architecture assumed regularity and science, for the earliest
dawnings of authentic information light us to monuments of a systematic
style, differing from the Egyptian in the rejection of all variety of
ornament, yet, like it, solemn, massive, and imposing. This is the
order which, subsequently, under the name of Doric, extended over the
whole of Greece and her colonies. To this the most ancient species
of the art, various origin has been assigned; but from our imperfect
knowledge of contemporary events, and from the impossibility of
extending research, it is plain that nothing can with certainty be
known. The most ably supported, but not less improbable theory, is
that of Dr Wilkins, already referred to, who supposes the order to
have been directly introduced from Syria, and Solomon's temple; his
reasonings and calculations on this subject present a rare combination
of ingenuity, learning, and practical science. The premises, however,
are assumed, namely, that the word translated 'chapiter' in the
common version of the book of Kings, means not only the capital, but
includes the entablature also; a gratuitous assumption, opposed by the
dimensions still visible in the parent source of Egyptian columns,
and which, even granted, would not prove an identity in purpose and
proportion with the Greek order. The hypothesis of Vitruvius is
fanciful, namely, that the proportion of the human foot to the height
of the body, was adopted as the rule for the proportion of the base
to the elevation of the column. The most probable view seems to be,
that this order sprung up as the fruit of continued observation on
the practice of Egyptian art, as compared with the methods of wooden
erection employed among the early Greeks themselves. This would
necessarily give an intermediate style in simplicity and lightness;
the pine, common in the ancient forests of Greece, truncated for any
purpose, gives at once a very near approximation to the shaft; the
same tree converted into a squared beam, gives the horizontal binding
or architrave; the merely ornamental or subordinate members would be
suggested in progressive operations of experience, or they might be
introduced by selection; for, as already noted, every ornament of
succeeding art, though not under the same combinations, is to be found
in the Egyptian modes. The whole history of taste, even as touched
upon in these pages, favors this slow and native growth of an art
among every people remarkable for its successful cultivation. The
three orders--the Doric, the Ionic, and the Corinthian, exhibit also
this gradual process of discovery and advance to perfection. It is
historically, as well as poetically true, that
----First, unadorn'd,
And nobly plain, the manly Doric rose;
The Ionic then with decent matron grace
Her airy pillar heaved; luxuriant last
The rich Corinthian spread her wanton wreath.
The character of genius in Greece likewise favors these views, more
exquisitely alive to beauty, to propriety, to decorous simplicity and
grandeur, than distinguished for those qualities that more decisively
belong to invention--fire, impetuosity, wild irregularity, or rude
majesty.
Neither then were the primitive elements invented, and thence without
aid of more ancient knowledge, the orders or systems of architecture
brought to perfection in Greece; nor was any one of these introduced
wholly or at once in a state approaching to perfect symmetry and
arrangement. In this, as in all their arts, no less than in their
literature, the Greeks borrowed, imitated, selected,--and yet they
created--they assimilated discordant variety to one solemn breathing
harmony--they brought out every latent germ of beauty that lay
overwhelmed in the mass of more ancient thought. From the dark yet
mighty accumulations of Eastern knowledge and skill, their genius spake
forth that light and that perfection which, in human wisdom and taste,
still guides, corrects, and animates. Yet their improvements were but
so many--important indeed--intermediate gradations in the universal
system of obligation which nations owe to each other. But while sound
judgment constrains the rejection of the exclusive pretensions of
the Greek writers on the particular subject in question, it must be
confessed there is in these something more than pleasing. They are
not selfish; they are deeply connected with the sympathies and the
feelings--the truest, best associations in objects of art. Though we
find all the elements of composition in Egyptian architecture, and must
believe that the Greek orders were in their origin thence derived;
yet the very idea, that the sedate grandeur of the Doric borrowed
its majesty from imitation of man's vigorous frame and decorous
carriage; or that the chaste proportions of the graceful Ionic were but
resemblances of female elegance and modesty,--the belief of all this,
so carefully cherished, was calculated to produce the happiest effect
upon living manners. So also, though the origin of the Corinthian
capital is apparent in an object emblematic over the whole East,
and not unknown even in some Christian forms, the mysterious lotus,
whose leaves so frequently constitute the adornment of the Egyptian
column; still, how dear to the heart the thought of most perfect skill
receiving its model from the humble tribute of affection placed on the
grave of the Corinthian maid, round which nature had by chance thrown
the graceful acanthus! If, in the sober inquiries of history, such
opinions are removed, the act is done with regret. Yet in this onward
path of truth, if one blossom planted there by human feeling must be
beaten down, how grateful the incense even of the crushed flower!
The three orders now mentioned constitute the whole system of Greek
architecture. The Doric appears to have been the most ancient,
and continued down to the period of the Roman conquest to be most
extensively employed in the European states of Greece, as these were
colonized chiefly by the Dorians--hence the name. Of this order are the
most celebrated remains of ancient art, which may be divided into two
great classes, namely, those of Greece, and of the Greek settlements
in Sicily and Southern Italy. The first class of buildings comprehends
a space extending from the earliest traditions, when Æachus, in the
commencement of the tenth century before Christ, is reported to have
built the temple of Jupiter still remaining in Ægina, to the erection
of the Parthenon, the noblest monument of this order, which, from its
beauty, and the predilection in its favor, has been termed the Grecian.
Subsequently, decline appears so early as the era of the Macedonian
empire; but the latest erection is supposed coeval with the reign of
Augustus. Within the ten centuries thus comprehended between the first
and last application of the Doric order, must have been erected those
magnificent structures whose ruins still adorn Greece. The probable
ages of these are as follow: commencing with the Æginetic ruin just
mentioned, whose date is lost in remote antiquity, and which seems to
have formed the second remove only in the march of art westward from
its primeval sources, to Crete, Ægina, Greece. Next, the celebrated
four columns near Corinth. The temple of Jupiter at Olympia either
precedes or follows, the architect Libon, and the roof, the first of
the kind, formed of marble tiles, the invention of Byzes of Naxos. An
interval occurs here, carrying us forward to the Athenian structures,
the most ancient of which, the temple of Theseus, belongs to a much
later period than any of the preceding. The date of the Propylea and
the Parthenon crowning the Acropolis, and placed in situation as in
excellence eminently conspicuous, is fixed by the most splendid names
in Grecian art;--they were built under the direction of Phidias, the
former by Mnesicles, the latter by Ictinus, encouraged by the patronage
of Pericles.
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--
----without o'erflowing--full.
Whether the Ionic order of architecture originated merely as a
variation on the 'Dorian mode,' or as a separate invention, it is not
easy, and not of much importance, to determine. The two ideas may be
reconciled; remains of Ionic are found coeval with the earliest certain
accounts of the Doric edifices; so far the former was independent,
and having arisen among the Ionian states, where subsequently it
continued to be employed in preference, it thus obtained a distinct
name and character. Afterwards, however, on being brought into use in
European Greece, architects appear to have studied its capabilities,
chiefly in contrast with the corresponding proprieties of the Doric.
Here something like an encroachment was made on its separate identity;
or rather, the artists of those times contemplated each system as a
modification, in part, of one great whole, bearing a relation only to
the emotions of grandeur and beauty. This is still the proper view
in which the orders are to be regarded in reference to excellence
in architectural composition. Now, indeed, the moderns possess the
advantage of a principle then unknown--the principle of association,
which both limits the field of choice, and increases the beauty of a
just selection.
Of the Ionic order, few remains are extant in Greece or her
colonies--few, we mean, as compared with the amazing structures just
considered. The Temple of Juno, in the Isle of Samos, raised about
the first Olympiad by Ræchus and Theodorus, already noticed as the
founders of the Samian School of Sculpture, supplies the earliest
specimen. This, in the age of Herodotus, was the grandest building in
Greece. How rapidly the order must have improved! Many archaisms, not
to say barbarous inventions, occur. Next in age has been placed the
singular but not ungraceful monument at Agrigentum, called the Tomb of
Theron. Here we discover, indeed, Ionic columns, but everything else is
Doric--proofs, first, of the antiquity of the monument; and secondly,
of the truth of our opinion, more than once hinted in these pages, that
the Dorian colonies in Sicily were original settlements from the East,
little or no intermediate connexion having taken place between them
and the Dorians of the Peloponnesus, who affected to be considered as
the mother country. If pursued to the full extent of its consequences,
this position would go far to explain several doubts, in regard to the
early power and arts of the Sicilian and Lucanian cities. The earliest
example of the true Ionic, is the Temple of Bacchus at Teos, erected,
most probably, soon after the Persian invasion, or not later than fifty
years after, or about 440 B. C. At Athens, however, in the temples of
Minerva, Polias, and Erectheus, is to be found the most perfect remain
of this order, but of what precise date is uncertain,--probably about
the era of the Peloponnesian war. Near Miletus, the Temple of Apollo,
erected by the architects Peonius and Daphnis, brings us down to that
of Minerva at Priene, by Pitheas, in the age of Alexander; after which
no specimens are to be found more ancient than the Roman conquest, with
the exception of some in different parts of Asia Minor, whose dates
cannot be ascertained.
In these two orders, now described, almost every beauty of composition
had been attained, except facility of arrangement, with that extreme
simplicity in which the taste of 'early Greece' seems to have placed
the very perfection of the art. In the Doric, the triglyphs broke in
upon the unity of the entablature viewed in perspective, producing also
complexity in the intervals, or difficulty of managing them. The Ionic,
by removing the divisions of the zoophorus, left the guiding lines of
the horizontal members of the order unbroken, and with greater aptitude
for the introduction of ornament; still the capital deviated from the
simple harmony--the object contemplated by the artist, as it presented
different aspects viewed in front or in flank, and also was not equally
adapted to all situations in the same range. By the invention of the
Corinthian, the beauties of the former orders were combined, while
their defects were also obviated; the removal of the triglyphs left
the arrangement unembarrassed, while the circular capital presented
always the same outline, and adapted itself equally to all positions.
The system of Greek architecture, the most perfect combination of the
necessities of science with forms most pleasing to the eye, that ever
did, or, we may venture to say, will exist, was completed. When this
perfection was attained is doubtful, as we have elsewhere shown;[E]
but the question is of less importance, since it is known that the
Corinthian order was employed by Scopas in the magnificent temple of
Minerva at Tegea, erected between the 94th and 104th Olympiad, or
nearly 400 years before the Christian era.
Of the remaining monuments of this order, few can be ascribed to
the best ages of Grecian taste. It became the favorite style after
Alexander, and especially of the Romans, to whom is to be attributed
by far the greater part of the Corinthian remains now in Greece. The
circular erection of Lysicrates, commonly termed, from the occasion
commemorated, the Choragic Monument, built 342 B. C.; the octagonal
edifice of Andronicus Cyrrhestes, apparently not much later; most
probably the magnificent remains of the temple of the Olympian Jupiter;
and, according to Stuart, another ruin, which he calls the _Poikele
Stoa_, or painted portico, compose the sole remains of the order prior
to the Roman conquest. The first is one of the most exquisite and
perfect gems of architectural taste, and the purest specimen of the
order, that has reached our time, whose minuteness and unobtrusive
beauty have preserved it almost entire amid the ruins of the mightiest
piles of Athenian art. The second is curious in its contrivance to
supply ignorance of the arch. The fourth is of doubtful antiquity; but
of the third, the columns, at least, are of the best age of Greece.
These, composed of the finest white marble, and of the most perfect
workmanship, with an elevation of nearly sixty feet, and belonging
to an edifice four hundred long, awaken emotions of regret, of
magnificence, and of beauty, difficult to comprehend or to impart.
In thus briefly following out the history of the orders, as far as
researches can be authenticated by remaining examples, the narrative
has conducted us to the death of Alexander, A. C. 324, while it has
included the consideration of every essential principle, for the
Greeks never widely deviated from their established modes. The caryatic
supports of the Temples of the Nymph Pandrosos, still almost perfect
at Athens, and the Persian portico said to have been at Sparta, form
the only exceptions to this observation. These, however, were never
imitated--they were suffered as individual fantasies--not allowed as
models. The period just considered, comprehending a space of about 113
years from Pericles to Alexander, was occupied almost exclusively with
the perfecting and application of the Ionic and Corinthian orders. The
art had now attained, in all its modes, the highest character of purity
and magnificence.
For more than two successive centuries, the history of the art would
conduct to consideration of the labours of the Greek princes in the
East, when Asia received back the early information given to Europe.
How vast the interval of obligation! But of all the labours of those
times, great as they must have been, when one alone of the Seleucidan
dynasty founded forty cities, only a few remains in Ionia, with one or
two in Greece, are known, or have been explored. To this period are
doubtless to be referred ruins in the Greek style, said to exist in
Syria and Persia, while, as already noticed, the Romans justly claim
those more commonly visited; but over all these hangs an obscurity
perhaps now impenetrable. Innovations upon the severe purity of ancient
taste were now certainly introduced; still the art had not suffered any
lapse; the essential principles appear to have been fully understood,
and sufficiently respected. This, indeed, is the case, to a degree of
veneration not generally supposed, at least in the remains of Asia
Minor, while now, in complete possession of a new and mighty element
of design--the arch; never before had architecture exhibited so great
capabilities, or powers adequate to the most gigantic works, whether of
use or magnificence.
In this state the art passed into the hands of the Romans, when
universal conquest had left them masters of the world. Thence commences
a new era in the history of architecture, distinguished, however,
rather by new applications than by fresh inventions. The art continued
essentially Greek, for, though to the Etruscans, and subsequently to
the early Romans, an order has been ascribed, no specimen of this
Tuscan capital has come down to our times, and consequently there
exist no means of tracing the narrative or descriptions of Vitruvius.
But by the account even of this native writer, the public buildings
of the regal and consular times were rude enough, exhibiting a state
of the science as already described among the early nations of the
East--vertical supports of stone, with wooden bearers. This continued
to be their style of design and practice, till extending empire brought
the Romans acquainted with the arts of the Dorian settlements on the
east and southern shores of Italy. The situation of the capital,
however, distant from accessible materials, the simplicity--not to say
homeliness of manners--and the constant bent of the national genius
towards foreign conquest, at first denied power to profit by accession
of science, or subsequently diverted attention away from its pleasures
and its advantages. Down to the conquest of Asia and the termination
of the republic, Rome continued a 'city of wood and brick.' Only with
the establishment of the empire and the reign of Augustus, with the
wealth of the world at command, and the skill of Greece to direct the
application, commences the valuable history of architecture among the
Romans.
This, the last period of Classic Art, comprehends a space of about 350
years, terminating with the transference of the seat of empire by
Constantine, A. D. 306. Of this interval, however, only the smaller
portion must be given to a taste even comparatively pure; for, great
as were its resources, symptoms of the decay of art, continually
increasing, are detected even from the first years of the imperial
government. Without entering minutely into these gradations, the death
of Hadrian, A. D. 138, may be assumed as including both the noblest
erections and the better taste of the empire. That to this date,
the essential characteristics of elegance and purity continued in a
degree untainted, there is evidence in the works of Hadrian at Athens.
Thus, during an interval of not less than 574 years, from Pericles
to the last mentioned emperor, architecture, in this respect more
fortunate than either sculpture or painting, flourished in splendor and
excellence not greatly impaired.
Of all the fine arts--poetry not excepted--architecture is the only one
into which the Roman mind entered with the real enthusiasm of natural
and national feeling. Success corresponded with the exalted sentiment
whence it arose; here have been left for the admiration of future ages,
the most magnificent proofs of original genius. This originality,
however, depends not upon _invention_ so much as upon _application_ of
modes. To the architectonic system, indeed, the Romans claim to have
added two novel elements in their own Doric, or Tuscan, and Composite
orders. But in the restless spirit of innovation which these betray,
the alleged invention discovers a total want of the true feeling and
understanding of the science of Grecian design. In this very desire of
novelty, and in the principles upon which it was pursued, are to be
traced the immediate causes of ruin to the art, while yet its resources
were unimpaired. The Romans unfortunately viewed the constituents
of the Greek orders, and even the orders themselves, as so many
conventional ornaments, which might be changed or superseded on the
laws of association, in the same manner as they were supposed to have
been framed. This it is of importance to mark, for the very same have
been the sources, and are still the operating causes, of inferiority in
modern architecture. But the very opposite of all this is the case. Of
this system, the Greeks, in the course of centuries, had founded what
was conventional upon what is necessary; they had united beauty with
science, by combinations the most pleasing to taste--because of this
very union of effect and principle. Architecture, with them, was thus
not more conventional than is every part of knowledge not immediately
derived from sense--not more, for instance, than geometry; and its
modes, therefore, as constituting one whole, became immutable, being
only conventional, as expressions or representatives of truth.
This harmony, therefore, between the intellectual and the merely
beautiful--the very perfection of the science of taste--the Greeks
sought not by perilous experiments to disturb. Not that among them the
vigor of independent genius was cramped; proper latitude of composition
being allowed, licentiousness of fancy was restrained; each artist
thought, in due subordination to the principles of a system which he
knew to be as unchangeable as the laws that ensured the stability of
his edifice. Hence, in every remain of Greek art, something peculiar is
discoverable--some exquisite adaptation of parts to circumstances--to
proportion--to feeling; but this never obtrudes--never is the general
symmetry, or prevailing character, in the least interrupted. Even the
orders observe the same law of composition. They are but variations of
one grand abstraction of stability and grace, which may be termed the
ideal of architecture. Each varies from another in detail, but the
result is one and the same concord; the proportions in each differ, but
the analogies of proportion are in all cases congenial. Even when, by
addition or absence of parts, there is discriminative form, still the
same final result of purpose or propriety is evident. In all, the same
master lines meet the eye, guide the comprehension over all divisions,
and bind the entire design into one grand harmonious whole. Similar
means and similar harmonies everywhere occur; the same in all is the
last impress on the mind of symmetry and majestic repose--of grace and
dignity--of steadfast tranquillity--of unlaboured elegance--and of rich
simplicity.
The system in this, its perfect wholeness, the Romans never conceived,
and upon this entireness their style first broke. They appear to
have deemed that lightness and grace, here the great objects of
their pursuit, were to be attained not so much by proportion between
the vertical and horizontal, as by comparative slenderness in the
former. Hence, in the very outset, is detected a poverty in the Roman
architecture, even in the midst of profuse ornament, which, as we
advance, continually increases with the practice whence it originated.
The great error was a constant aim to lessen the diameter, while
they increased the elevation, of the columns and supporting members
generally--an error, as remarked by Plutarch, 'to a Greek eye'
perceptible so early as the reign of Domitian. Hence the incongruities
of the Roman orders, which yet are mere plagiarisms from the Greek, and
upon this defective principle.
The massive simplicity and severe grandeur of the ancient Doric,
disappear in the Roman, the characteristics of the order being
frittered down into a multiplicity of minute members. This division is
not only in itself injurious to the simple idea of strength, but the
parts are separately composed in ignorance of the primitive intention.
To their two more refined orders, the Ionic and Corinthian, the Greeks
always added a base, to unite them sweetly and gracefully with the
plinth step, or floor; to the Doric, this accessory was always denied,
that strong contrast might lead the eye at once from the support to
the firm position of the vertical shaft--thus apparently still more
securely planted, as resting immediately on the solid platform of the
building. In opposition to these obvious principles, the Romans used
the Doric always with a base, composed, too, of various members; while
in the capital they erred still more against propriety. The Doric
capital of the Greeks is a masterpiece of composition;--formed of
few and bold, yet graceful parts, it leads by degrees of increasing
strength to the surmounting entablature, which, with its triglyphs
and sculptured metopes, seems to the eye yet more ponderous--ready to
crush the starved and fluttering members, fillet above fillet, which
compose the capital of the Roman pillar. The Corinthian is the only
order which the Romans have employed with almost the undiminished
grace of the original; but even here is distinctly to be traced the
pernicious effects of their system. In the Ionic, they have left
comparatively few examples, while, still following out their principle,
they added to the length of the shaft, and flattened the capital, thus
losing much of the simple yet stately elegance which distinguishes
this order. Their own Composite is in some measure a combination of
the Ionic and the Corinthian, having the volutes of the former and the
foliage of the latter, upon which it is anything but an improvement,
since it contradicts the character, and in a great degree opposes the
advantages, of the primitive. As far, then, as concerns the invention
of forms, and the just conception of the elemental modes of Greece,
the Romans failed. Their architecture was imperfect, both as a system
of symmetry, and as a science founded upon truth and upon taste.
But when their labours are viewed as regards the practice of the art,
their merits are presented under a far different aspect. Whether the
magnitude, the utility, the varied combinations, or the novel and
important evidences of their knowledge, be considered, the Romans, in
their practical works, are yet unrivalled. They here created their own
models, while they have remained examples to their successors. Though
not the inventors of the arch, they, of all the nations of antiquity,
first discovered and boldly applied its powers; nor is there one
dignified principle in its use which they have not elicited. Rivers
are spanned; the sea itself, as at Ancona, is thus enclosed within the
cincture of masonry; nay, streams were heaved into air, and, borne
aloft through entire provinces, poured into the capital their floods
of freshness, and health. The self-balanced dome, extending a marble
firmament over head, the proudest boast of modern skill, has yet its
prototype and its superior in the Pantheon--
Relic of nobler days and noblest arts!
Despoil'd, yet perfect, with thy circle spreads
A holiness appealing to all hearts--
To art a model.
The same stupendous and enduring character pervaded all the efforts of
Roman art, even in those instances where more ancient principles only
were brought into action. Where the Greeks were forced to call the
operations of nature in aid of the weakness of art, availing themselves
of some hollow mountain side for the erection of places of public
resort, the imperial masters of Rome caused such mountains to be reared
of masonry, within their capital, for the Theatre, Amphitheatre, and
Circus. Of these vast structures, where assembled multitudes might
sit uncrowded, the Colosseum--the mightiest indeed, yet only one of
the labours of the reign in which it was raised--contains more solid
material, brought too from far, and exquisitely wrought, than all
the works of either Louis XIV., or the Czar Peter--the two greatest
builders among the sovereigns of modern times:
From its mass,
Walls, palaces, half cities, have been rear'd;
Yet oft the enormous skeleton ye pass,
And marvel where the spoil could have appear'd.
Palaces--Temples--Baths--Porticos--Arches of Triumph--Commemorative
Pillars--Basilica, or Halls of Justice--Fora, or
Squares--Bridges--without mentioning the astonishing highways,
extending to the extremities of the empire--all were constructed
on the same grand and magnificent plan. The art, in every part of
its practice, partook of the national character of the people. Its
applications were great, substantial, and useful--beautiful in
execution, but this beauty dignified yet more as subservient to
utility. The highest conceivable grandeur seemed but necessary, as
commensurate with the wants and the durability of a dominion which
was to be universal and eternal. Roman art has, in these respects, a
character almost of moral dignity beyond all relics of antiquity. The
records of their dead, though erections of more equivocal usefulness,
partake of the same style, and, like the pyramids of Egyptian kings,
have ceased to be monuments save of their own greatness. Some, and
those but of individuals, or even a woman's grave, as towers of
strength have rolled back the shock of feudal warfare; and the tomb of
an emperor, turned into a palace, or a fortress, still overawes the
city of the Cæsars.
But, alas! the passing briefness of all things sublunary! The spirit's
homage to this mightiness of mind and power, is due only to the labours
of little more than a century and a half. The very greatness of these
edifices proved a source of after corruption, by withdrawing attention
from the delicacies of composition, and by substituting brute mass for
the refinements of science. Even under the Antonines, decline from the
age of Hadrian is perceptible--though more in taste than in practice.
Under Commodus, architecture suffered most decided degradation--another
proof how steadily the arts reflect, not only the mental, but the
moral energies of the times. The downward impulse hurries onwards,
occasionally stayed by the personal virtues or activities of the
reigning prince. Severus has thus left evidence how far his age
had fallen, and yet how superior to those that follow! between his
triumphal arch and that of Titus, how great the difference!--yet, in
point of design, far less than between his and Constantine's. The last
splendours of Roman skill were elicited by the talents of Dioclesian,
and great appear still to have been the practical resources of
architecture--greater than usually admitted. The circular Hall in his
Baths is inferior only to the Pantheon, and awakened the enthusiasm
of Michael Angelo; his Dalmatian Palace was the finest building
undertaken for twelve succeeding centuries. Few of the qualities which
can ennoble the art, as an object of taste, survived this period. The
works of Constantine, not excepting the founding of a capital, prove
how complete was the lapse, since even his zeal could call forth only
attempts to ungraceful and ineffective.