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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



the stylite who then dwelt on the column 

 and who would let down a hasket to re- 

 ceive the offerings of visitors. 



ATHENS HONORED VICTORS IN CONTESTS 

 OF THE ARTS 



We retraced our steps through the Arch 

 of Hadrian by a narrow street known as 

 the Street of Lysicrates and which is 

 probably the site of the ancient Street of 

 the Tripods. 



In the age of Pericles, apart from the 

 athletic contests which took place at the 

 Olympic and other games, there were con- 

 tests in Oratory, in Poetry, and in Music. 

 At Athens the victor in one of these games 

 was given a brass tripod, with the privi- 

 lege of erecting a pedestal on which to 

 place it, somewhere in the city. 



At the end of the little street down 

 which we walked stands, in almost pris- 

 tine loveliness, perhaps the only surviving 

 monument of this character. It is the 

 exquisite little structure — the oldest ex- 

 tant — erected by an Athenian, Lysicrates, 

 on which to place the tripod awarded him 

 as the organizer of a choir of young men 

 which won a prize in vocal music in one 

 of the games in the fourth century B. C. 



This little structure was built into a 

 convent in medieval times and was thus 

 preserved from destruction. The convent 

 was standing in Byron's day and he was a 

 guest there in 1811 ; it was not until some 

 years later that the monument was re- 

 stored at the expense of the French Gov- 

 ernment. 



IN THE THEATER OF DIONYSUS 



It is but a stone's throw from the Mon- 

 ument of Lysicrates to the Theater of 

 Dionysus, or Bacchus, to give it its Ro- 

 man name (see pages 597 and 598). 



Like most Greek theaters, the tiers of 

 seats are built into the hillside, while its 

 arrangement is such that the spectators 

 viewing the actors had in the distance the 

 sea ; so that as Tragedy, "in scepter'd pall, 

 came sweeping by," there was ever pres- 

 ent to the eye an expanse of land and 

 water to heighten the effect produced by 

 the action of the play. 



And what names this place calls up — 

 iEschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Aristoph- 

 anes — the long roll of the great ones of 

 Greece ! 



It is related of Socrates that once, when 

 he was being lampooned and burlesqued 

 in this theater, lie rose gravely from his 

 seat and stood for a little space, until the 

 audience could make a comparison be- 

 tween the original and the copy. 



The theater of to-day is Roman; the 

 site only is from the earliest period. It 

 will be recalled that the Romans intro- 

 duced the stage in the modern sense; the 

 Greek actors wore a high-laced boot with 

 a thick sole, called a cothurnus, to raise 

 them above the chorus. 



the: fragments of the exquisite 

 temple of wingless victory 



Leaving the theater, we walked slowly 

 to our goal, passing on the right the pre- 

 cincts of yEsculapius and various remains, 

 including the charming Odeion built by 

 Herod of Attica, another Roman bene- 

 factor, of the second century A. D., on to 

 the iron gates which mark the lower pre- 

 cincts of the Acropolis. Passing through 

 these and walking up the long incline, we 

 came to a turning on the right and saw 

 before us the gates, or Propylaea, of the 

 Acropolis. 



High up on the right was the little Tem- 

 ple of the Wingless Victory, while a cor- 

 ner of the Parthenon could be descried 

 over the retaining wall. My impatience 

 was such that I broke into a run, bound- 

 ing up the steep stairway which leads 

 from the outer gate of the Propylaea to 

 the upper level, and arrived panting on the 

 platform on which is the Victory Temple. 



Here we stood and drank in the mar- 

 velous view, and then, turning, ran our 

 eyes caressingly over the shrine. Nothing 

 can exceed in delicacy and charm this ex- 

 quisite little structure. Four Ionic col- 

 umns, each some thirteen feet in height, 

 support the architrave, but so perfect are 

 their proportions that it is only when 

 standing beside them that one realizes that 

 they are twice the height of a tall man. 



This diminutive, yet perfect, edifice was 

 demolished by the Turks in order to build 

 a bastion, and was later reconstructed with 

 the fragments of the original building. 



A pleasing tradition which dies hard 

 was that Victory had so constantly 

 perched on the Athenian banner that she 

 had lost her pinions and had come perma- 

 nently to reside at Athens. However, 

 learned and cruel men have shown that 



