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many Torie3 seemed a crime. On the sad night on which Addison was laid in the chapel of Henry VIX, the Westminster boys remarked that Atterbury read the funeral service with a peculiar tenderness and solemnity. The favourite companions, however, of the great Tory prelate were, as might have been expected, men whose politics had at least a tinge of Toryism. He lived on friendly terms with Swift, Arbuthnot, and Gay. With Prior he had a close intimacy, which some misunderstanding about public affairs at last dissolved. , Pope found in Atterbury not only a warm admirer, but a most faithful, fearless, and judicious adviser. The poet was a frequent guest at the episcopal palace among the elms of Bromley, and entertained not the slightest suspicion that his host, now declining in years, confined to an easy chair by gout, and apparently devoted to literature, was deeply concerned in criminal and perilous designs against the Government.
The spirit of the Jacobites hod been cowed by the events of 1715. It revived in 1721. The failure of the South Sea project, the panic in the money market, the downfall of great commercial houses, the distress from which no part of the kingdom was exempt, had produced general discontent. It seemed not improbable that at such a moment an insurrection might be successful. An insurrection was planned. The streets of London were to be barricaded; the Tower and the Bank were to be surprisedj King George, his family, and his chief captains and councillors wero to be arrested, and King James was to be proclaimed. The design became known to tho duke of Orleans, regent of France, who was on terms of friendship with tho house of Hanover. He put the English Government on its guard. Some of the chief malcontents were committed to prison; and among them was Atterbury. No bishop of the Church of England had been taken into custody since that memorable day when the applauses and prayers of all London had followed the seven bishops to the gate of the Tot.-er. The Opposition entertained somo hope that it might be possible to excite among the people an enthusiasm resembling that of their fathers, who rushed into the waters of the Thames to implore th"1 blessing of Bancroft. Pictures of the heroic confessor in his cell wero exhibited at the shop windows. Verses in his praise were sung about the streets. The restraints by which he was prevented from communicating with his accomplices were represented as cruelties worthy of the dungeons of the Inquisition. Strong appeals were made to the priesthood. Would they tarriely permit so gross an insult to be offered to their cloth 1 Would they suffer the ablest, the most eloquent member of their profession, the man who had so often stood up for their rights against the civil power, to be treated like the vilest of mankind) There was considerable excitement; but it was allayed by a temperate and artful letter to the clergy, the work, in all probability, of Bishop Gibson, who stood high in the favour of Walpole, and shortly after became minister for ecclesiastical affairs.
Atterbury remained in close confinement during some months. He had carried on his correspondence with the exiled family so cautiously that the circumstantial proofs of his guilt, though sufficient to- produce entire moral conviction, were not sufficient to justify legal conviction. He could be reached only by a bill of pains and penalties. Such a bill the Whig party, then decidedly predominant in both Houses, was quite prepared to support. Many hot-headed members of that party were eager to follow the precedent which had been set in the case of Sir John Pen wick, and to pass an act for cutting off the bishop's head. Cadogan, who commanded the army, a brave soldier, but a headstrong politician, is said to have exclaimed with great vehemence, "Fling him to the lions in the Tower." But the wiser and more humane Walpole was
always unwilling to shed blood, and his influence prevailed. When Parliament met, the evidence against the bishop was laid before committees of both Houses. Those committees reported that his guilt was proved. In the Commons a resolution prononncing him a traitor was carried by nearly two to one A bill was then introduced which provided that he should be deprived of his spiritual dignities, that he should be banished for life, and that no British subject should hold any intercourse with him except by the royal permission. This bill passed the Commons with little difficulty; for the bishop, though invited to defend himself, chose to reserve his defence for the assembly of which he was a member. In the Lords the contest was sharp. The voung duke of Wharton, distinguished by his parts, his dissoluteness, and his versatility, spoke for Atterbury with great effect; and Atterbury's own voice was heard for the last time by that unfriendly -audience which had so often listened to him with mingled aversion and uelight He produced few witnesses, nor did those witnesses say much that could be of service to him. Among them was Pope. He was called to prove that, while he was an inmate of the palace at Bromley, the bishop's time was completely occupied by literary and domestic matters, and that no leisure was left for plotting. But Pope, who was quite unaccustomed to speak in public, lost his head, and, as he afterwards owned, though he had only ten words to say, made two or three blunders.
The bill finally passed the Lords by eighty-three Votes to forty-three. The bishops, with a single exception, were in the majority. Their conduct drew on them a sharp taunt from Lord Bathurst, a warm friend of Atterbury and a zealous Tory. "The wild Indians," he said, "give no quarter, because they believe that they shall inherit the skill and prowess of every adversary whom they destroy. Perhaps the animosity of the right reverend prelates to their brother may be explained iD the same way."
Atterbury took leave of these whom he loved with a dignity and tenderness worthy of a better man. Three fine lines of his favourite poet were often in his mouth—
"Some natural tear* he dropped, bat wiped them seon:
At parting he presented Pope with a Bible, and said, with a disingemiousncss of which no man who had studied the Bible to much purpose would have been guilty, "If ever you learn that I have any dealings with the Pretender, I give you leave to say that my punishment is just." Pope at this time really believed the bishop to be an injured man. Arbuthnot seems to have been of the same opinion. Swift, a few months later, ridiculed with great bitterness, in the Voyage to Lapute, the evidence which had satisfied the two Houses of Parliament Soon, however, the most partial friends of the banished prelate ceased to assert his innocence, and contented themselves with lamenting and excusing what they could not defend. After a short stay at Brussels he had taken up his abode at Paris, and had become tho leading man among the Jacobite refugees who were assembled there. He was invited to Rome by the Pretender, who then held his mock court under the immediate protection of the Pope. But Atterbury felt that a bishop of the Church of England would be 'strangely out of place at the Vatican, and declined the invitation. During some months, however, he might flatter himself that he stood high in the good graces of James. The correspondence between the master and the servant was constant Atterbury's merits were warmly acknowledged, his advice was respectfully received, and he was, as Bolingbroke had been before him, the prime minister of a king without a kingdom. Bat the new favourite found, as Boliogbroke had found before him, that it was quits as hard to keep the shadow of power under a vagrant and mendicant prince as to keep the reality of power at Westminster. Though James kid neither territories nor revenues, neither army nor navy, tisre was more faction and more intrigue among his courtiers than among those of his successful rival Atterbaiy soon perceived that his counsels were disregarded, if not distrusted. His proud spirit was deeply wounded. He quitted Paris, fixed his residence at lloutpellier, gave up politics, and devoted himself entirely to letters. In the tilth year of his exile he had so severe an illness that his daughter, herself in very, delicate health, determined to run all risks that she might see him once more. Having obtained a licence from the English Government, she went bj sea to Bordeaux, but landed there in such a state that ike could travel only by boat or in a litter. Her father, 12 spite of his infirmities, set out from Montpellier to meet ker; and she, with the impatience which is often the sign ot approaching death, hastened towards him. Those who vare about her in vain implored her to travel slowly, ah* said that every hour was precious, that she only wished to we her papa and to die. She met him at Toulouse, eahraced him, received from his hand the sacred bread lad wine, and thanked God that they had passed one day ia each other's society before they parted for ever. She aied that night. It was some time before even the strong mind of Atterrecovered from this cruel blow. As soon as he was iuaself again he became eager for action and conflict; for zr.ti. which disposes gentle natures to retirement, to inaction, and to meditation, only makes restless spirits more restless. The Pretender, dull and bigoted as he was, had bond out that he had not acted wisely in parting with one who, though a heretic, was, in abilities and accomplishments, the foremost man of the Jacobite party. The bishop was courted back, and was without much difficulty induced to return to Paris, and to become once more the pkutoin minister of a phantom monarchy. But his long •ad troubled life was drawing to a close. To the last, however, his intellect retained all its keenness and vigour. He learned, in the ninth year of his banishment, that he had been accused by Oldmixon, as dishonest and malignant * scribbler as any that has been saved from oblivion by tat Dunciad, of having, in concert with other Christ Churchmen, garbled Clarendon's Hi»tory of tht Rtbellion. The charge, as respected Atterbury, had not the slightest f~«ndation; for he was not one of the editors of the Httcry, and never saw it till it was printed.. He published a short vindication of himself, which is a model is its kind, luminous, temperate, and dignified. A copy of this little work he sent to the Pretender, with a letter ■agnlarly eloquent and graceful. It was impossible, the old man said, that he should write anything on such a •abject without being reminded of the resemblance between ha own fate and that of Clarendon. They were the only two English subjects that had ever been banished from tkeir country and debarred from all communication with their friends by Act of Parliament. But here the resemblance ended. One of the exiles had been so happy to bear a chief part in the restoration of the royal house. AU that the other could now do was to die asserting the rights of that house to the last. A few,- weeks after this letter was written Atterbury died. He had just completed his seventieth year.
His body was brought to England, and laid, with great fancy, under the nave of Westminster Abbey. Only tares mourners followed the coffin. No inscription marks tie grave. That the epitaph with which Pope honoured the nemory of his friend does not anoear on the walls of
the great national cemetery is no subject of regret, fx nothing worse was ever written by Colley Cibber.
Those who wish for more complete information abont Atterbury may easily collect it from his sermons and his controversial writings, from the report of tho parliamentary proceedings against him, which will be found in the Stats Trials; from the fire volumes of his correspondence, edited by Mr Nichols, and from the first volume of the Stuart papers, edited by Mr Glover. A very indulgent but a very interesting account of the bishop's political career will bo found in Lord Stanhope's valuable History of England, (M.)
ATTICA, the most famous district of ancient Greece, is a triangular piece of ground projecting in a south-easterly direction into the jEgcan Sea, the base line being formed by the continuous chain of Mounts Cithasron and Fames, the apex by the promontory of Sunium. It is washed on
two sides by the sea, and this feature seems to have given rise to the name; for, notwithstanding the unusual letterchange, 'attiici) probably stands for 'ajctuoj, since Strabo and other ancient writers inform us that the country originally bore both this name and that of 'Aa-nj. The latter designation was frequently used by the Greeks to describe an extensive tract reaching into the sea, especially when, as iu the case of Attica and the Argolic Acte, it was joined to the continent by a broad base. The coast is broken up into numerous small bights and harbours, which, however, are with few exceptions exposed to the south wind; the irregularity of the outline accounts for its great length in comparison of the superficial area of the country. The surface of Attica, as of the rest of Greece, is very mountainous, and between the mountain chains lie several plains of no great size, open on one side to the sea. On the west its natural boundary is the Corinthian Gulf, so that it would include the district of Megaris; and, as a matter of fact, before the Dorian invasion, which resulted in the foundation of Megara, the whole of this country was politically one, being in the hands of the Ionian race. This is proved by the column which, as we learn from Strabo, once stood on the Isthmus of Corinth, bearing on one side the inscription, "This land is Peloponnesus, not Ionia "—
ri£ jfrl TltKov&tnnivos, ofca lotyfa— and on the other, "This land is not Peloponnesus, but Ionia"—
III. — 8
The central position of Attica in Greece was ono main cause of its historical importance. When K. O. Muller compares Greece to a body, whose members are different in form, while a mutual connection and dependence naturally exist between them, he speaks of Attica as one of the extremities which served as the active instruments of the body of Greece, and by which it was kept in constant connection with other countries. Hence in part arose the maritime character of its inhabitants; and when they had ence taken to the sea,, the string of neighbouring islands, Ceos, Cythnos, and others, some of which lay within sight of their coasts, and from ono to another of which it was possible to sail without losing sight of land, served to iempt them on to further enterprises. Similarly on land, the post it occupied between Northern Greece and the Peloponnese materially influenced its relation to other states, both in respect of its alliances, such as that with Thessaly, towards which country it was drawn by mutual hostility to Bceotia, which lay between them,—a friendship of great service to Athens, because it brought to her aid the Thessalian cavalry, an arm with which she herself was feebly provided; and also in' respect of offensive combinations of other powers, as that between Thebes and Sparta, which throughout an important part of Greek history were closely associated in their politics, through mutual dread of their powerful neighbour.
The mountains of Attica, which form its most characteristic feature, are to be regarded as a continuation of that i.'hain which, starting from Mount Tymphrestus at the southern extremity of Pindus, passes through Fhocis and Bceotia under the well-known names of Parnassus and Helicon; from this proceeds the range which, as Cithseron in its western and Parries in its eastern portion, separates Attica from Bceotia, throwing off spurs southward towards the Saronic Gulf in jEgaleos and Hymettus, which bound the plain of Athens. Again, the eastern extremity of Parnea is joined by another line of hills, which, separating from Mount CEta, skirts the Euboic Gulf, and, after entering Attica, throws up the lofty pyramid of Pentelicus, overlooking the plain of Marathon, and then sinks towards the sea at Sunium to rise once more in the outlying islands. Finally, at the extreme west of the whole district, Cithaeron is bent round at right angles in the direction of the isthmus, at tho northern approach to which it abuts against the mighty mass of Mount Geraneia, which is interposed between the Corinthian and the Saronic Gulf. The elevation reached by some of these is considerable, both Cithaeron and Parnes being about 4600 feet, Hymettus 3360, and Pentelicus 2560, while jEgaleos does not rise higher than 1536 feet. At the present day they are extremely bare, and, to one who is accustomed to Italian scenery, their severity is apt at first to be almost repellent; but after a time the eye is delighted with the delicacy of the outlines, the minute articulation of the minor ridges and valleys, and the symmetrical way in which nature has grouped the Boveral mountains so as to form a balance between them. The appearance thus produced can -be best described as classical
The soil of Attica is light and thin, and requires very careful agriculture to develop its produce. This feature belongs not only to the rocky mountain aides, but to some extent also to the maritime plains, and had considerable influence on the development of the inhabitants, both by enforcing industrious habits, and in leading them at an early period to take to the sea. Still, the level ground was sufficiently fertile to form a marked contrast to the rest of the district, and this fact is represented in the mythical genealogy of the early kings, which embodies several geographical features. Thus, while first we find the name of Acteus or Acteeon, who represents tho d/trij or sca-coast,
later on occurs Cranaus, a personification of tho rocky ground, whence both Pindar and Aristophanes apply the epithet Kparaai to Athens; ' and further we meet with Erichthonius, whose name is inte ided to express the fruitful plains. Thucydides attributes to tho nature of the thin soil (i. 2, To \cm6ytwv), which presented no attraction to invaders, the permanence of the same inhabitants in the country, whence arose the claim to indigenousness on which the Athenians so greatly prided themselves; while at tho same time the richer ground fostered that fondness for country life, which is proved by the enthusiastic terms in which it is always spoken of by Aristophanes, and by the discontent of the people of Attica at being forced to betake themselves to the city at the commencement of the Peloponncsian War. That we are not justified in judging of the ancient condition of the soil by the aridity which prevails at the present day, is shown by the fact that out of the 174 demes into which Attica was divided, at least onetenth were named from trees or plants.
But whatever drawbacks the people of Attica experienced in respect of the soil were more than compensated by the fineness of the climate. In this point they enjoyed a great advantage over their neighbours the Boeotians; and while at the present day travellers speak of the excessive heat in summer and cold in winter which they have experienced in Boeotia, Attica has always been famous for its mildness. In approaching this district from the north, a change of temperature is felt as soon as a person descends from Cithseron or Parnes, and the sea breeze, which in modern times is called 6 c/tySar^, or that which sets towards shore, moderates the heat in summer. Both the Attic comedians and Plato speak with enthusiasm of their native climate, and the fineness of the Athenian intellect was attributed to the clearness of the Attic atmosphere. It was in the neighbourhood of Athens itself that the air was thought to bo purest. This is what Euripides refers to in the well-known passage where he describes the inhabitants as "ever walking gracefully through the most luminous aether" (Med., 829); and Milton, who is always an admirable exponent of Greek literature, in like manner says—
"Whore, on the J£gean shore, a city stands.
Thus it is hardly hyperbole in Xenophon to say "one would not err in thinking that this city is placed near the centre of Greece—nay, of the civilised world,—because, the farther removed persons are from it, tho severer is the cold or heat they merit with" (YectigaX., i. 6). To the clearness of tho atmosphere must be referred the distinctness with which distant objects can be discerned, for from the Acropolis the lines of white marble that streak the sides of Pentelicus are visible, and also the brilliant colouring which is so conspicuous in an Athenian sunset. Thus Dean Stanley speaks of "the flood of fire with which the marble columns, the mountains, and the sea are all bathed and penetrated;" "the violet hue which Hymettus .assumes in the evening sky, in contrast to tho glowing furnace of the rock of Lycabettus, and the rosy pyramid of Pentelicus." And M. Bursian says—" Amongst the most beautiful natural scenes that I have beheld I reckon the sight of Hymettus from Athens at sunset, whilst the entire range, as soon as the sun begins to sink, quivers with the loveliest rosy red, which gradually passes through the most varied gradations into the deepest violet. No one who has not enjoyed this spectacle can understand the purpureas collet florcntu Hymctti of Ovid." This otherwise perfect climate is slightly marred by the prevalence of the north wind This is expressed on the Horologium of Antonius Cyrrhestcs, called the Temple or Tower of tho Winds, at Atieos, where Boreas is represented as a bearded man of sSero aspect, thickly clad, and wearing strong buskins; he Wows into a conch shell, which he holds in his hand as a sign of his tempestuous character. This also explains the don connection between him and this country in mythology, especially in the legend of Orithyia, who is the dicghter of the Cephisus, thus representing the mists that rise from the streams, and whom he carries off with him izi makes his wife One of their offspring is called Chionc, or tie Snow Maiden.
When we turn to the vegetation of Attica, the olive first ciDj for onr attention. This tree, we learn from Herodotus (v. 82), was thought at one time to have been found in that country only; and the enthusiastic praises of Sophocles ((Ed. Col., 700) teach us that it was the land in which it flourished best. So great was the esteem in which it was held, that in the early legend of the struggle between the gods of sea and land, Poseidon and Athena, for the paironage of the country, the sea-god is represented as saving to retire vanquished before the giver of the olive; tad at a later period the evidences of this contention were foand in an ancient olive tree in the Acropolis, together vita three holes in the rock, said to have been made by the trident of Poseidon, and to be connected with a salt nil hard by. The fig also found its favourite home in tint country, for Demeter was said to have bestowed it as t gift on the Eleusinian Phytalus, i.e., "the gardener." Both Cithseron and Fames must have been wooded in israsz times; for on the former are laid the picturesque Rilvin scenes in the Baccha of Euripides, and it was from tii latter that the wood came which caused the neighbouric| deme of Acharna? to be famous for its charcoal—the ZrSpexn Uaprqa-ioi of the Axharniantoi Aristophanes (348). It was the thymy slopes of Hyraettus, too, from which came the famous Hymettisn honey. Among the other products w<e must notice the marble—both that of Pentescos, which afforded a material of unrivalled purity and whiteness for building the Athenian temples, and the blue Barbie of Hymettus—the trabu Bymettia of Horace— •hieh used to be transported to Rome for the construction of palaces. But the richest of all the sources of wealth in Attica was the silver mines of Laureium, the yield of which m so considerable as to render silver the principal medium of exchange in Greece, so that "a silver piece" (ipyvpiov) was lie Greek equivalent term for money. Hence JSschylus speaks of the Athenians as possessing a " fountain of silver" [fin., 235), and Aristophanes makss his chorus of birds premise the audience that, if they show him favour, owls from Laureium, i.e., silver pieces with the emblem of Aliens, shall never fail them (Av., 1106). InStrabo's time, .hough the mines had almost ceased to yield, silver was obtained in considerable quantities from the scoria; and it tie present day a large amount of lead is obtained in tie same way, the value of what was exported in 18C9 string been £177,000 sterling.
Having thus noticed the general features of the country, !et as proceed to examine it somewhat more in detail. It Lis been already mentioned that the base line is formed by tie chain ot Cithseron and Parnes, running from west to east; and that from this transverse chains run southward, priding Attica into a succession of plains. The westernBest of these, which is separated from the innermost bay cf tie Corinthian Gulf, called the Mare Alcyouium, by an G&hoot of Cithseron, and is bounded on the east by a ridge which ends towards the Saronic Gulf in a striking two-horned peak called Kerata, is the plain of Megara. It iioaly for geographical purposes that we include this district under Attica, for both the Dorian race of the intsbitante, and iti dangerous proximity to Athens, caused 2 to be at perpetual feud with that city; but its position
as an outpost for the Peloponnesians, together with the fact of its having once been Ionian soil, sufficiently explains the bitter hostility of the Athenians towards the Megariars. The great importance of Megara arose from its commanding all the passes into the Peloponnese. These were three in number: one along the shores of the Corinthian Gulf, which, owing to the nature of the ground, makes a long detour; the other two starting from Megara, and passing, the one by a lofty though gradual route over the ridge of Geraneia, the other along the Saronic Gulf, under the dangerous precipices of the Scironian rocks. The town of Megara, which was built on and between two low hills rising out of the plain rather more than a mile from the sea, had the command of both gulfs by means of its two ports—that of Pegae on the Corinthian, and that of Nicsea on the Saronic. The necessities of the case occasionally brought the Megarians and their powerful neighbours together; for the former greatly depended on Athens for their supplies, as we see from their famished state, as described by Aristophanes in the Acharniaiu (729 ft;.), when excluded from the ports and markets of that country.
C To the east of the plain of Megara lies that of Eleusis, bounded on the one side by the chain of Kerata, and on the other by that of .£galeos, through a depression in which was the line of the sacred way, where the torchlight processions from Athens used to descend to the coast, the "brightly-gleaming shores" (Aa/iirdo« a«mu) of Sophocles ((Ed. Col., 1049). Here a deep bay runs into the land, opposite to which, and separated from it by a strait, which forms a succession of graceful curves, was the rocky island of Salamis, at all times an important possession to tha Athenians on account of its proximity to their city. The scene of the battle of Salamis was the narrowest part of this channel, where the island approaches the extremity of iEgaleos; and it was on the last declivities of that mountain that—
"A king sate on the rocky brow
The eastern portion of this plain was called the Thriasian plain, and the city of Eleusis was situated in the recesses of the bay. The coast-line of this part, between the sanctuary of Poseidon at the isthmus, which was originally Ionian, and Athens, is the principal scene of the achievements of Theseus, a hero who holds the same relation to the Ionians of Greece proper as Hercules does to the Greeks at large, viz., that of being the great author of improvements in the country. In this instance his feats seem to describe the establishment of a safe means of communication. On the isthmus itself he destroys the monster Sinis, the " ravager," otherwise called Pityocamptes, or the "pine-bender," which names imply that he is the embodiment of a violent wind, though the legend grew up that he fastened his victims to the bent branches of two pines, by the rebound of which they were torn in sunder. His next exploit is near Crommyon, where he destroys a wild sow, called Phsea, or "the dusky," which probably means that he checked a torrent, since violent watercourses are often represented by that animal in Greek mythology. Then follows the struggle with the brigand Sciron, who signifies the dangerous wind, which blows with such violence in this district that at Athens the north-west wind received the name of Sciron from the neighbouring Scironian rocks; the pass, which skirts the sea at the base of the cliffs, is now known by the ill-omened title of Kake Scala, and is still regarded as a perilous transit. Finally, between Eleusis and Athens, Theseus overcomes Procrustes, or " the racker," who apparently represents the dangers of the pass between Eleusis and Athens, now called Daphne; for the ridge of Mount .lEgaleos hard by was is ancient tunes called Corydallss, and this, we are told by Diodorus (iv. 69), was the scene of the contest
Next in order to the plain of Elcusis came that of Athens, which is the most extensive of all, reaching from the foot of Parnes to the sea, and bounded on the west by jEgalcos, and on the east by Hymettus. Its most con' spicuous feature is the broad lino of dark green along its J western side, formed by the olive-groves of Colonus and the gardens of the Aca^emus, which owe their fertility to the waters of the Cephisus, by w''ich they are irrigated. TJhis river is fed by copious sources on the side of Mount Parnes, and thus, unlike the other rivers of Attica, has a constant supply of water; but it does not reach the sea, nor did it apparently in classical times, having been diverted, then as now, into the neighbouring plantations; for this is what Sophocles means when he speaks of M the sleepless fountains of Cephisus, which stray forth from their channels" ((Ed. Col., 688 seq.) The position of Colonus itself is marked by two bare knolls of lightcoloured earth, which caused the poet in the same chorus to apply the epithet "white" (&pyTjra) to that place. On the opposite side of the plain runs the other river, the Hissus, which risc3 from a beautiful fountain in Mount Hymettus, and skirts the eastern extremity of the city of Athens; but this, notwithstanding its celebrity, is a mere brook, which stands in pools a great part of the year, and in summer is completely dry. Tho situation of Athens relatively to the surrounding objects is singularly harmonious; for, while it forms a central point, so as tu bo the eyo of the plain, and while tho al ar-rock of the Acropolis and the hills by which it is surrounded are conspicuous from every point of view, theie is no such exactness in its position u> to give formality, since it is nearer to • the sea than to Fames, and nearer ,o Hymettus than to jEgaleos. Tho most striking summit in the neighbourhood of tho city is that of Lycabettus, now Mount St George, on the north-eastern side; and the variety is still further increased by the continuation of the ridgo which it forms for some distance northwards through tho plain. Three roads lead to Athens from ihe Bccotian frontier over tho intervening mountain barrier—iho easternmost over Parnes, from Delium and Oropus by Dcceleia, which was the usual route of the invading Lacedaemonians during the Peloponncsian War; tho westernmost over Cithaeron, by the pass of Dryoscephalse, or tho "Oakheads," leading from Thebes by Platssa to Elousis, and so to Athens, which we hear of in connection with tho battlo of Plateea, and with the escape of the Plata»ns at the time of tho siego of that city in the Peloponncsian War; the third, midway between the two, by the pass of Phyle, near the summit of which, on a rugged height overlooking the Athenian plain, is the fort occupied by Thrasybulus in the days of the Thirty Tyrants. On the sea-coast to the south-west of Athens rises the hill of Munychio, a mass of rocky ground, forming tho acropolis of tho town of Piraeus, which was once separated from the mainland; for Strabo (i. 3, § 18) speaks of it as having been formerly an island. On one side of this, towards Hymettus, lay the open roadstead of Phalcrum, on the other tho harbour of Piraeus, a completely land-locked inlet, safe, deep, and spacious, the approach to which was still further narrowed by moles. The eastern side of the hill was further indented by two small but commodious havens, which were respectively called Zea and Munychia,
The north-eastern boundary of the plain of Athens is formed by the graceful pyramid of Pentelicus, which received its naino from the dome of Pentelo at its foot, but was fir more commonly known as Brilessus in ancient times. This inouatain did not form a continuous chain with Hymettus, for between them intervenes a level space of ground two miles in width, which formed the entrance to the
Mesogsea, an elevated undulating plain in the midst of ti t mountains, reaching nearly to Sunium. At the extremity of Hymettus, where it projects into the Saronic Gulf, waa the promontory of Zoster, or "the Girdle," which was to called because it girdles and protects the neighbouring harbour; bub in consequence of the name, a legend was attached to it, to the effect that Latona had loosed hor girdle there. From this promontory to Sunium there runs a lower line of mountains, and between these and the sea a fertile strip of land intervenes, which was called the Paralu. Beyond Sunium, on the eastern coast, were two safe ports, that of Thoricus, which is defended by the island of Helene, forming a natural breakwater in front of it, and that of Prasiae, now called Porto Raphti, or " the Tailor," from a statue at the entrance to which the natives have given that name. But it still remains to mention the most famous spot of ground in Attica, the little plain of Marathon, which lay in the north-east corner, encircled on three sides by Parnes and Pentelicus, while the fourth faces the sea and the opposite coast of Eubcea. It was on the mountain slopes that the Greeks were stationed, while the Persians with their ships occupied the coast; and on the two sides the marshes may still be traced by which the movements of the invader's host were impeded The mound, which at once attracts the eye in the centre of the level plain, is probably the burial-place of tho Athenians who fell in the battle. The bay in front is sheltered by Eubcea, and is still more protected from the north by a projecting tongue of land, called Cynosure, The mountains in the neigh bourhood were the seat of one of the political parties in Attica, the Diacrii or Hypcracrii, who, being poor mountaineers, and having nothing to lose, were the principal advocates of change; while, on the other hand, the Pedieis, or inhabitants of the plains, being wealthy landholders, formed the strong conservative element, and the Parali, oi occupants of the sea-coast, representing the mercantile in terest, held an intermediate position between the two Finally, there was one district of Attica, that lay without its natural boundaries, the territory of Oropus, which properly belonged to Bceotia, as it was situated to the north of Fames; but on this the Athenians always endeavoured to .retain a linn hold, because it facilitated their communications with Eubcea. The command of that island was ot the utmost importance to them; for, if .£gina could rightly be called "the eyesore of the Piraeus," Eubcea was quite as truly a thorn in the side of Attica; for we learn from Demosthenes (/'(• Cor., p. 307) that at one period tho pirates that made it their headquarters so infested the neighbouring sea as to prevent all navigation.
Of tho condition of Attica in mediteval and modem times little need be said, for it has followed for the most part the fortunes of Athens. The population, however, has undergone a great change, independently of the large admixture of Slavonic blood that has affected tho Greeks of the mainland generally, by the immigration of Albanian colonists, who now occupy a great part of tho country. The most important of the classical ruins that remain outsido Athens are those of the temple of Athena at Sunium, which form a conspicuous object as_ they surmount the headland, and gave rise to the name which it bore, until lately, of Cape Colonnie; it is in the Doric style, of white marble, and 13 columns of the temple and a pilaster are now standing. At Elcusis the foundations of the propyUna of the great templo of Demeter and other buildings have been laid bare by excavation; at Thoricus there are remains of an ancient theatro; and at Bhamnus, northward from Marathon, at a little distance from the sea, are tha basements and some of the columns of two temples in the same enclosure, which were dedicated to Nemesis and Themis. (a. r. r.)