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tinction between the second and the third class, and it is possible that none such existed. The distance which separated both from the first was so great, that all slighter gradations may have been lost in it. Accordingly, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, comparing the early institutions of Rome and Athens, notices only two classes in the latter, one corresponding to the Roman patricians, the other to the plebeians.” We may, perhaps, safely conclude from analogy, that even while the power of the nobles was most absolute, a popular assembly was not unknown at Athens, and the example of Sparta may suggest a notion of the limitations which might prevent it from endangering the privileges of the ruling body. So long as the latter reserved to itself the office of making or declaring, of interpreting and administering the laws, as well as the ordinary functions of government, it might securely intrust many subjects to the decision of the popular voice. Its first contests were waged, not with the people, but with the kings. Even in the reign of Theseus himself the legend exhibits the royal power as on the decline. Menestheus, a descendant of the ancient kings, is said to have engaged his brother nobles in a conspiracy against Theseus, which finally compelled him and his family to go into exile, and placed Menestheus on the throne. After the death of this usurper, indeed, the crown is restored to the line of Theseus for some generations. But his descendant, Thymoetes, is compelled to abdicate in favour of Melanthus, a stranger, who has no claim but his superior merit. After the death of Codrus, the nobles, taking advantage, perhaps, of the opportunity afforded by the dispute between his sons, are said to have abolished the title of king, and to have substituted for it that of archon. This change, however, seems to have ocen important, rather as it indicated the new, precarious tenure by which the royal power was held, than as it immediately affected the nature of the office. It was, indeed, still held for life; and Medon, the son of Codrus, transmitted it to his posterity,f though it would appear that, within the house of the Medontids, the succession was determined by the choice of the nobles. It is added, however, that the archon was deemed a responsible magistrate, which implies that those who elected had the power of deposing him ; and, consequently, though the range of his functions may not have been narrower than that of the king's, he was inore subject to control in the exercise of them. This indirect kind of sway, however, did not satisfy the more ambitious spirits; and we find them steadily, though gradually, advancing towards the accomplishment of their final object — a complete and equal participation of the sovereignty. After twelve reigns, ending with that of Alcmaeon,t the duration of the office was limited to ten years; and through the guilt or calamity of Hippomenes, the fourth decennial archon.o the house of Medon was deprived of - no.s. t Paus, iv., 5, 10. : The successors of Medon were Acastus, Archippus, or eroppus. Phorbas, Megacles, Diognetus, Pherecles, anthrots. * Agamestor, Æschylus, Alcmeon (Ol. * ***** were Charops, Esimedes, Clidicus; he was succeeded by Leocrates, Apsander, and Eryxias. to reon, the first annual archon, enters upon his office B.C. go.
its privilege, and the supreme magistracy was thrown open to the whole body of nobles. This change was speedily followed by one much more important. When Tlesias, the successor of Eryxias, had completed the term which his predecessor had left unfinished, the duration of the archonship was again reduced to a single year; and, at the same time, its branches were severed, and distributed among nine new magistrates. Among these, the first in rank retained the distinguishing title of the archon, and the year was marked by his name." He represented the majesty of the state, and exercised a peculiar jurisdiction—that which had belonged to the king as the common parent of his people, the protector of families, the guardian of orphans and heiresses, and of the general rights of inheritance. For the second archon the title of king, if it had been laid aside, was revived,f as the functions assigned to him were those most associated with ancient recollections. He represented the king as the highpriest of his people; he regulated the celebration of the mysteries and the most solemn festivals; decided all causes which affected the interests of religion, and was charged with the care of protecting the state from the pollution it might incur through the heedlessness or impiety of individuals. The third archon bore the title of polemarch,t and filled the place of the king, as the leader of his people in war, and the guardian who watched over its security in time of peace. Connected with this character of his office was the jurisdiction he possessed over strangers who had settled in Attica under the protection of the state, and over freedmen. The remaining six archons received the common title of thesmothetes,' which literally signifies legislators, and was probably applied to them, as the judges who determined the great variety of causes which did not fall under the cognizance of their colleagues; because, in the absence of a written code, those who declare and interpret the laws may be properly said to make them. These successive encroachments on the royal prerogatives, and the final triumph of the nobles, are almost the only events that fill the meager annals of Attica for several centuries. Here, as elsewhere, a wonderful stillness suddenly follows the varied stir of enterprise and adventure, and the throng of interesting characters that present themselves to our view in the heroic age. Life seems no longer to offer anything for poetry to celebrate, or for history to record. Are we to consider this long period of apparent tranquillity as one of public happiness, of pure and simple manners, of general harmony and content, which has only been rendered obscure by the absence of the crimes and the calamities which usually leave the deepest traces in the page of history? We should willingly believe this if it were not that, so far as the veil is withdrawn which conceals the occurrences of this period from our sight, it affords us * Q "Apxo', 'Apxww.iravuuos, or b Erovaos: t"Apxow Bagoto. Wachsmuth suspects, with great probability, that the title had never been dropped. # IIoMéuapxos (commander-in-chief). W 0tauðtral. 6tauot is used for laws in the ancient oath of the Attic soldier, Pollux, viii., 105, which was prob
ably earlier than Solon, whose laws are commonly said to have been distinguished by the name of wéuot, from Draco's
glimpses of a very different state of things. In the list of the magistrates who held the undivided sovereignty of the state, the only name with which any events are connected is that of Hippomenes, the last archon of the line of Codrus. It was made memorable by the shame of his daughter, and by the extraordinary punishment which he inflicted on her and her paramour.” Tradition long continued to point out as accursed ground the place where she was shut up to perish from hunger, or from the fury of a wild horse, the companion of her confinement. The nobles, glad, perhaps, to seize an opportunity so favourable to their views, deposed Hippomenes, and razed his house to the ground. This story would seem, indeed, to indicate the austerity, as well as the hardness of the ancient manners; but, on the other hand, we are informed that the father had been urged to this excess of rigour by the reproach that had fallen upon his family from the effeminacy and dissoluteness of its members. Without, however, drawing any inference from this insulated story, we may proceed to observe that the accounts transmitted to us of the legislation of Draco, the next epoch when a dream of light breaks through the obscurity of the Attic history, do not lead us to suppose that the people had enjoyed any extraordinary measure of happiness under the aristocratical government, or that their manners were peculiarly innocent and mild, The immediate occasion which led to Draco's legislation is not recorded, and even the motives which induced him to impress it with that character of severity to which it owes its chief celebrity are not clearly ascertained. We know, however, that he was the author of the first written laws of Athens; and as this measure tended to limit the authority of the nobles, to which a customary law, of which they were the sole expounders, opposed a much feebler check, we may reasonably conclude that the innovation did not proceed from their wish, but was extorted from them by the #.",. of the people. On the other hand, Draco undoubtedly framed his code as much as possible in conformity to the spirit and the interests of the ruling class, to which he himself belonged; and hence we may fairly infer that the extreme rigour of its penal enactments was designed to overawe and repress the popular movement which had produced it. Aristotle observes that Draco made no change in the Constitution, and that there was nothing remarkable in his laws except the severity of the penalties by which they were sanctioned. It must, however, be remembered, that the substitution of law for custom, of a written code for a fluctuating and flexible tradition, was itself a step of great importance; and we also learn that he introduced some changes in the administration of criminal justice by transferring cases of murder, or of accidental homicide, from the cognizance of the archons to the magistrates called ephetes it though it is not clear whether he instituted, or
only modified or enlarged their jurisdiction. Demades was thought to have described the character of his laws very happily when he said that they were written, not in ink, but in blood. He himself is reported to have justified their severity by observing that the least offences deserved death, and that he could devise no greater punishment for the worst. This sounds like the language of a man who proceeded on higher grounds than those of expediency, and who felt himself bound by his own convictions to disregard the opinions of his contemporaries. Yet it is difficult to believe that Draco can have been led by any principles of abstract justice to confound all gradations of guilt, or, as has been conjectured" with somewhat greater probability, that, viewing them under a religious rather than a political aspect, he conceived that in every case alike they drew down the anger of the gods, which could only be appeased by the blood of the criminal. It seems much easier to understand how the ruling class, which adopted his enactments, might imagine that such a code was likely to be a convenient instrument in their hands for striking terror into their subjects, and stifling the rising spirit of discontent which their cupidity and oppression had provoked. We are, however, unable to form a well-grounded judgment on the degree in which equity may have been violated by his indiscriminate rigour; for though we read that he enacted the same capital punishment for petty thests as for sacrilege and murder, still, as there were some offences for which he provided a milder sentence, the must have framed a kind of scale, the wisdom and justice of which we have no means of estimating. The danger which threatened the nobles at length showed itself from a side on which they probably deemed themselves most secure. Twelve years after Draco's legislation,t a conspiracy was formed by one of their own number for overthrowing the government. Cylon, the author of this plot, was eminent both in birth and riches. His reputation, and, still more, his confidence in his own fortune, had been greatly raised by a victory at the Olympic Games; and he had farther increased the lustre and influence of his family by an alliance with Theage. nes, the tyrant of Megara, whose daughter he married. This extraordinary prosperity elated his presumption, and inflamed his ambition with hopes of a greatness which could only be attained by a dangerous enterprise. He conceived the design of becoming master of Athens. He could reckon on the cordial assistance of his father-in-law, who, independently of their affinity, was deeply interested in establishing at Athens a form of government similar to that which he himself had founded at Megara; and he had also, by his personal influence, ensured the support of numerous friends and adherents. Yet it is probable that he would not have relied on these resources, and that his scheme would never have suggested itself to his mind, if the general disaffection of the people towards their rulers, the impatience produced by the evils for which Draco had provided so inadequate a remedy, and by the irritating nature of the remedy itself, and the ordinary signs of an ap
* The precise nature of the extraordinary I inflicted on the seducer can only be conjectured from the description of Heraclides Ponticus, 1, who says that Hippomenes put him to death by yoking him to a chariot. The occurrence is mentioned by Æschines, Timarch., 182.
t 'Epérat (Pollux, viii., 125). Courts of appeal: opies; épictuds.
* Wachsmuth, ii., 1, p. 240.
t Loss of franchise for an attempt to change one of his laws. Demosth., Aristocr., p. 640: a mulct of the value of ten oxen, Pollux, ix., 61.
f Ol. 42, 1. Draco's archonship, in which his laws were enacted, is placed Ol. 39.1, B.C. 624.
roaching change, the need of which began to [. universally felt, had not appeared to favour his aims. At this period scarcely any great enterprise was undertaken in Greece without the sanction of an oracle; yet we cannot but feel some surprise when we are informed by Thucydides that Cylon consulted the Delphic god on the means by which he might overthrow the government of his country, and still more at the answer he is said to have received : that he must seize the citadel of Athens during the principal festival of Zeus. Cylon naturally interpreted the oracle to mean the Olympic Games, the scene of his glory; and Thucydides thinks it worth observing that the great Attic festival in honour of the same god occurred at a different season. At the time, however, which appeared to be prescribed by his infallible counsellor, Cylon proceeded to carry his plan into effect. With the aid of a body of troops furnished by Theagenes, and of his partisans, he made himself master of the citadel. We hear nothing more of his Megarian auxiliaries, and perhaps, when his first object was accomplished, he dismissed them, relying on the favourable dispositions of the people. But the insurrection seems not to have been judiciously concerted. Those who had most cause to wish for a change had no reason to believe that this was designed for their benefit, and the co-operation of the foreigners was sufficient to deter all patriotic citizens from espousing his cause. Cylon and his friends soon found themselves besieged by the forces which the government called in from all parts of the country. The greater part of these were soon dismissed, as the blockade proved tedious, and only a small body was left under the command of the nine archons, to wait till famine should compel the insurgents to surrender. In the mean while Cylon and his brother effected their escape. Their adherents seem never to have entertained any hopes of mercy. When their provisions were all spent, and some had died of hunger, the remainder abandoned the defence of the walls, and took refuge in the temple of Athené. The archon Megacles and his colleagues, seeing them reduced to the last extremity of weakness, began to be alarmed lest the sanctuary should be profaned by their death. To avoid this danger, they induced them to surrender on condition that their lives should be spared. Thucydides simply relates that the archons broke their promise, and put their prisoners to death when they had quitted their asylum, and that some were even killed at the altars of the dread goddesses, as the Eumenides, or Furies, were called, to which they had fled in the tumult. Plutarch adds a feature to the story, which seems too characteristic of the age to be considered as a later invention. More effectually to ensure their safety, the suppliants, before they descended from the citadel, fastened a line to the statue of Minerva, and held it in their hands as they o". through the midst of their enemies.
ut the line chancing to break as they were passing by the sanctuary of the Eumenides, Megacles, with the approbation of his colleagues, declared that they were no longer un
der the safeguard of the goddess, who had thus visibly rejected their supplication, and immediately proceeded to arrest them. His words were the signal of a general massacre, from which even the awful sanctity of the neighbouring altars did not screen the fugitives: none escaped but those who found means of imploring female compassion.* If the conduct of the principal actors in this bloody scene had been marked only by treachery and cruelty, it would never have exposed them to punishment, perhaps not even to reproach. But they had been guilty of a flagrant violation of religion; and Megacles and his whole house were viewed with horror, as men polluted with the stain of sacrilege. All public disasters and calamities were henceforth construed into signs of the Divine displeasure; and the surviving partisans of Cylon did not fail to urge that the gods would never be appeased until vengeance should have been taken on the offenders. Yet if this had been the only question which agitated the public mind, it might have been hushed without producing any important consequences. But it was only one ingredient in the ferment which the conflict of parties, the grievances of the many, and the ambition of the few, now carried to a height that called for some extraordinary remedy. Hence Cylon's conspiracy and its issue exercised an influence on the history of Athens which has rendered it forever memorable, as the event which led the way to the legislation of Solon. Solon, son of Execestides,t was sprung from the line of Codrus. His father had reduced his fortune by his imprudent liberality; and Solon, in his youth, is said to have been compelled, in order to repair the decay of his patrimony, to embark in commercial adventures: a mode of acquiring wealth which was not disdained by men of the highest birth, as it frequently afforded them the means of forming honourable alliances in foreign countries, and even of raising themselves to princely rank as the founders of colonies. It was, however, undoubtedly not more the desire of affluence than the thirst of knowledge that impelled Solon to seek distant shores; and the most valuable fruit of his travels was the experience he collected of men, manners, and institutions. We are unable to ascertain the precise time at which he returned to settle in Athens; but if, as is most probable, it was in the period following Cylon's conspiracy, the found his country in a deplorable condition, distracted within by the contests of exasperated parties, and scarcely able to resist the attacks of its least powerful neighbours. Even the little state of Megara was at this time a formidable enemy. It had succeeded in wresting the island of Salamis from the Athenians, who had been repeatedly baffled in their attempts to recover what they esteemed their rightful possession. The losses they had sustained in this tedious war had broken their spirit, and had driven them to the resolution of abandoning forever the assertion of their claims. A decree had been passed, which, under penalty of death, forbade any one so much as to propose the renewal of the desperate undertaking. Solon, who was himself a native of Salamis, and was, perhaps, connected by various ties with the island, was indignant at this pusillanimous policy, and he devised an extraordinary plan for rousing his countrymen from their despondency. He was endowed by nature with a happy poetical talent, of which some specimens are still extant in the fragments of his numerous works, which, though they never rise to a very high degree of beauty, possess the charm of a vigorous and graceful simplicity. He now composed a poem on the loss of Salamis, which Plutarch praises as one of his most ingenious productions. To elude the prohibition, he assumed the demeanour of a madman; and rushing into the market-place, mounted the stone from which the heralds were used to make their proclamations, and recited his poem to the by-standers. It contained a vehement expostulation on the disgrace which the Athenian name had incurred, and a summons to take the field again, and vindicate their right to the lovely island. The hearers caught the poet's enthusiasm, which was seconded by the applause of his friends, and particularly by the eloquence of his young kinsman Pisistratus. The restraining law was repealed, and it was resolved once more to try the fortune of arms. Solon not only inspired his countrymen with hope, but led them to victory, aided in the camp as in the city by the genius of Pisistratus. The stratagem with which he attacked the Megarians is variously related; but he is said to have finished the campaign by a single blow, and certainly succeeded in speedily recovering the island. We may even conclude that the Athenians at the same time made themselves masters of the port of Megara, Nisaea, since it is said to have been soon after reconquered by the Megarians.” The reputation which Solon acquired by this enterprise was heightened, and more widely diffused throughout Greece, by the part he took in the sacred war, which ended with the destruction of Cirrha.f. But already before this he had gained the confidence of his fellowcitizens, and had begun to exert his influence in healing their intestine divisions. The outcry against Megacles and his associates in the massacre had risen so high, that it became evident that quiet could never be restored until they had expiated their offence, and had delivered the city from the curse which they seemed to have brought upon it. Solon, with the assistance of the most moderate nobles, prevailed on the party of Megacles to submit their cause to the de
* Plut., Sol., 12. Herodotus, v. 71, tells the story somewhat differently. According to him, the magistrates called prytanes of the Naucranes (spuravis row vauxpipwy), of whose power he speaks in terms very similar to those which urydides, i., 126, applies to the archons (Evenov rare ras'A9hvas—rdre ra roof row roMirikov orpaedov), entered into the engagement with the suppliants, who were afterward murdered by the Alcmaeonids. Wachsmuth (l. i., p. 246) ingeniously reconciles these accounts by the supposition that the magistrates mentioned by Herodotus were assessors of the first archon, and were therefore, in ublic proceedings, identified with him and his colleagues. F. Arnold's explanation. Thuc., i, p. 664, seems to create new difficulties, and to fail in recouciling Herodotus with Thucydides. t Only one writer, of little note, called him the son of Euphorion, Pluto, Sol., 1. : As he can scarcely have been born much earlier or later than B.C. 638, he would be about twenty-six at the time of the conspiracy, B.C. 612. See Clinton's Fasti, i., p. 301.
cision of an impartial tribunal. An extraordinary court of Three Hundred persons, chosen from their own order, was commissioned to try them. Under such circumstances their con-demnation was inevitable: those who had survived went into exile, and the bones of the deceased were taken out of their graves, and transported beyond the frontier. In the mean while the Megarians had not relinquished their pretensions to Salamis, and they took advantage of the troubles which occupied the attention of the Athenians to dislodge their garrison from Nisaca, and to reconquer the island, where five hundred Athenian colonists, who had voluntarily shared Solon's first expedition, had been rewarded with an allotment of lands, which gave them a predominant influence in the government. It seems probable that it was after this event that the two states, seeing no prospect of terminating by arms a warfare subject to such vicissitudes, and equally harassing to both, now that their honour had been satisfied by alternate victories, agreed to refer their claims to arbitration. At their request the Lacedaemonians appointed five commissioners to try the cause. Solon, who was the chief spokesman on the side of the Athenians, maintained their title on the ground of ancient possession by arguments which, though they never silenced the Megarians, appear to have convinced the arbitrators. The strongest seem to have been derived from the Athenian customs, of which he pointed out traces in the mode of interment observed in Salamis, as well as inscriptions on the tombs, which attested the Attic origin of the persons they commemorated. He is also said to have appealed to the authority of the Homeric catalogue of the Grecian fleet, and to have resorted to a patriotic fraud, by forging a line which described Ajax as ranging the ships which he brought from Salamis in the Athenian station; and he interpreted some oracular verses which spoke of Salamis as an Ionian island in a similar sense. Modern criticism would not have been much better satisfied with the plea, which he grounded on the Attic tradition, that the sons of the same hero had settled in Attica, and had been adopted as Athenian citizens, and, in return, had transferred their hereditary dominion over the island to their new countrymen. The weight, however, of all these arguments determined the issue in favour of the Athenians; and it seems more probable that the Megarians acquiesced in a decision to which they had themselves appealed, than that, as Plutarch represents, they almost immediately renewed hostilities. Party feuds continued to rage with unabated violence at Athens. The removal of the men whom public opinion had denounced as objects of the divine wrath was only a preliminary step towards the restoration of tranquillity, but the evil was seated much deeper, and required a different kind of remedy, which was only to be found in a new organization of the state. This, it is probable, Solon already meditated, as he must long have perceived its necessity. But he saw that, before it could be accomplished, the minds of men must be brought into a frame fitted for its reception, and that this could only be done with the aid of religion. There were superstitious fears to be stilled, angry passions to be soothed, barbarous usages, hallowed by long prescription, to be abolished; and even the authority of Solon was not of itself sufficient for these purposes. He therefore looked abroad for a coadjutor, and fame directed his view to a man peculiarly qualified to meet this emergency. Crete at this time boasted of a person whom his contemporaries regarded as a being of a superior nature, and who even to us appears in a mysterious, or at least an ambiguous light, from our inability to decide how far he himself partook in the general opinion which ascribed to him an intimate communion with higher powers. This was Epimenides," a native, it is said, of the town of Phaestus, but, as his history seems to show, a citizen of Cnossus, the ancient capital of Minos. His origin seems to have been obscure, for, like the ancient sage Musaeus, he was said to be the son of a nymph, a kind of parentage which in both cases implies the popular belief of inspired wisdom in those to whom it was ascribed. His youth, and even a great part of his manhood, according to a legend which seems to have been current even in his own time, passed away in a preternatural slumber: he had been sent by his father to fetch a sheep from the country, but having turned aside into a cave for shelter from the noontide heat, he was overtaken by sleep. He woke unconscious of any change, and it was only by that which he gradually discovered in the persons and things around him that he found more than half a century had elapsed since he left his father's house. Many of the ancients perceived that this marvellous tale was not without a meaning, though they were not unanimous in their interpretation of it. The greater part of them, however, drew from it the probable inference that Epimenides had spent the early part of his life in obscurity—either that of voluntary seclusion or of distant travel—and that the time during which he thus withdrew himself from the eyes of his countrymen was employed in acquiring those stores of knowledge by which he afterward excited their astonishment. He seems to have studied the healing virtues of plants, and thus to have made some proficiency in an art which enabled him to confer solid benefits upon mankind. But this was not the main foundation of his same, nor probably that which he himself considered as the most precious result of his solitary meditations. is rude attempts to explore the secrets of nature, by opening new sources of wonder to his inquisitive mind, served, perhaps, to nourish that credulous enthusiasm, from which some of the greatest, intellects of this period were not exempt, and which was rather strengthened than sobered by the first essays of philosophical speculation. He sought a more direct road to knowledge in the favour of the gods, which he strove to win, both by the diligent practice of old observances, and by the institution of new and more acceptable rites. Thus, in the opinion of his countrymen, and probably in his own, he rose to the dignity of a priestly seer, profoundly learned in mystic ordinances, eminently skilled in the art of propitiating the anger of heaven when provoked by impiety or neglect, and honoured with frequent revelations of the Divine
* On the history of Epimenides there is a useful little work by Heinrich: Epimenides aus Kreta,
will, if not endowed with the faculty of penetrating, as often as he wished, into the depths of futurity. He was a poet, too, as well as a prophet, and the descriptions given of his works attest the fecundity of his genius. It seems, however, that he did not disdain to heighten the respect which these advantages procured for him, by assuming an exterior which distinguished him from the rest of mankind, and by affecting an Oriental austerity of habits. It was said that no one ever saw him eat, and when he appealed in public the awful gravity of the sage was announced by the length of his flowing hair. This venerated person was now publicly invited to Athens, to exert his marvellous powers in behalf of the distracted city. His visit to Athens, as it was the most memorable event of his life, is also that which gives us the clearest. view of his character, and shows that, though he may not have a claim to the title of a philosopher, it would be equally unjust to consider him as a juggler and an impostor. The measures he adopted on his arrival consisted in great part of religious rites, which, as they finally allayed the fears of the superstitious, were undoubtedly as efficacious as any that could have been devised. We regret, indeed, to find that, among other propitiations, he prescribed the sacrifice of a human victim : it was, perhaps, demanded by the public opinion, in which he may himself have partaken. A youth, named Cratinus, voluntarily devoted himself for his country, and was joined in death by his friend Aristodemus.* A still more significant and important act was the foundation of a temple to the Eumenides, on the Areopagus—a hill already hallowed by the most ancient court of criminal justice—and the consecration of two altars to appease the baneful Powers, whose malignant influence had stifled in the breasts of the citizens the respect they owed to each other and to the laws.t. But Epimenides appears not merely as a founder of sacred rites and monuments; he also introduced some regulations, which, though not wholly foreign to religion, had manifestly a political object, and were probably framed either at the suggestion of Solon, or in order to meet his views. They imposed restraints on the profuse expense with which private persons celebrated the worship of the gods, and on the wild and unseemly signs of grief which the women had been accustomed to display at funerals. These, to us, may seem trifles, but Solon thought them worthy objects of his legislation; and as the last was perhaps not unconnected with the cause of the disorders which had called for the presence of Epimenides, so no less an authority may have been requisite for innovations which seemed to encroach upon the most sacred privileges. Epimenides had been received with a reverence which ensured the success of his beneficent work, and when it was accomplished he was dismissed with tokens of the warmest gratitude. The Athenians decreed gold and signal honours to their benefactor, but he had too high a sense of the sanctity of his office to ac"Athenæus, p. 602. Diogenes Laertius, i., 110, names Cratanus and Ctesibius. * Tropis and’Avaíðeta, insolence and impudence. Contumelia and impudentia, in Cicero, De Leg., ii., 11, who of a temple; other authors know only of altars.