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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



overpowers one ; it is like being in a 

 conservatory open to the sky. Yet this 

 sunken garden was once the sacrificial 

 altar of a nation, where 9,000 proud 

 Athenians were prisoners and slaves.* 



THE) EAR OP DIONYSIUS 



In the Latomia del Paradiso is the 

 cavern called the ear of Dionysius, from 

 its resemblance to the human ear and 

 the use to which it was said to be put. 

 The story goes that Dionysius (the elder) 

 caused this cavern to be cut, with cun- 

 ningly contrived acoustic galleries, and 

 high on one side, in a small aperture, 

 the tyrant used to sit listening to the 

 prisoners in their rocky cell below, glean- 

 ing their political secrets. The British 

 antiquarian Holm believes that on the 

 summit of this latomia Dionysius built 

 a palace, from whence he could see and 

 hear all that passed in the Greek theater 

 below, as Louis XIV heard mass in his 

 ante-chamber! But I cannot find upon 

 what he bases his theory. 



There was a tradition that some of the 

 captives purchased their release by re- 

 peating the verses of Euripides, of which 

 Lord Byron says : 



"When Athens' armies fell at Syracuse, 

 And fetter'd thousands bore the yoke of war, 

 Redemption rose up in the Attic muse, 

 Her voice their only ransom from afar; 

 See ! As they chant their tragic hymn, the car 

 Of the o'er-mastered victor stops ; the reins 

 Fall from his hands, his idle scimitar 

 Starts from its belt; he rends his captives' 

 chains, 



And bids them thank the bard for freedom 

 and his strains." 



Out on the rough hillside lie huge frag- 

 ments, like a rampart of Cyclopean de- 

 fense, in reality remains of a great altar 

 for the sacrifice of oxen to Jupiter — the 

 greatest altar in the world except that 

 of Pergamus, in Asia Minor, which 

 ranked among the wonders of the world. 

 Its vast size was not exactly due to ex- 

 cessive piety on the part of Syracusans, 

 but rather a tardy expression of gratitude 

 to Jupiter for deliverance from the tyrant 

 Thrasybulus. 



* See "Picturesque Sicily." By W. A. Paton. 

 Harpers. 



The beauty-loving Greeks built always 

 on some high and spacious site, on a 

 mighty sea-terrace or the verge of a vast 

 open plain. How unlike the Roman ! 

 Just below Jupiter's great altar, but 

 entirely without prospect, and enclosed 

 by solid walls, are the ruins of the Roman 

 circus. It is a large amphitheater, but 

 is much less perfect than those of Pozzu- 

 oli, Verona, or Avignon, and possesses 

 no special charm. The Roman lacked the 

 epicurean spirit of the Greek, which de- 

 manded nature and art together to 

 enthrall the senses. The Roman reveled 

 in slaughter and delighted in carnage, 

 and beauties of land and sea were naught 

 to him. The mind of man is written in 

 his nation's monuments; they are the 

 records of a nation's qualities as much 

 as is its history. 



AN E)NCHANTE)D GARDE)N 



In a limited sketch of a lovely land it 

 is difficult to give a hint of all the beau- 

 ties, where myth and history crowd close. 

 Acres of blue lupins, rosy sea-pinks, 

 yellowness of genesta mingle with the 

 black lava streams of Etna, as fact and 

 fancy are mingled in this old-world 

 island. You see the rocks which Poly- 

 phemus hurled after Ulysses as he was 

 putting out to sea, and then beyond, the 

 bay where Alcibiades came sailing in 

 with his Athenian fleet. 



Not far from Palermo is Phoenician 

 Solunto, a miniature Pompeii, and its 

 situation is hardly surpassed by anything 

 in Sicily, placed as it is between the wild 

 heights of Monte Griffone and the curv- 

 ing coast, where Capo ZafTarano juts 

 boldly seaward. Solunto must not be 

 confounded with Selinunto, those tremen- 

 dous ruins five hours away from Pal- 

 ermo. Selinunto was a city 628 B. C, 

 and was destroyed by the Carthaginians 

 409 B. C. Its great ruins are in two 

 groups, the Acropolis and its surrounding 

 temples, and the three important temples 

 on the opposite or eastern hill. They are 

 all Doric, chaotic, and colossal, but bare 

 and lonely; Virgil's "palmosa Selinus" is 

 now sublime desolation. 



