History of Phoenicia (page 2)

the north-west, in Lat. 34º 27´ nearly, for the distance of a mile, and is about half a mile wide. The site is “well adapted for a haven, as a chain of seven small islands, running out to the north-west, affords shelter in the direction from which the most violent winds blow.”[68] The remotest of these islands is ten miles distant from the shore.[69] We are told that the colonists who founded Tripolis did not intermix, but had their separate quarters of the town assigned to them, each surrounded by its own wall, and lying at some little distance one from the other.[70] There are no present traces of this arrangement, which seems indicative of distrust; but some remains have been found of a wall which was carried across the isthmus on the land side.[71] Tripolis is now Tarabolus.

Aphaca, the only inland Phœnician town of any importance, is now Afka, and is visited by most travellers and tourists. It was situated in a beautiful spot at the head of the Adonis river,[72] a sacred stream fabled to run with blood once a year, at the festival which commemorated the self-mutilation of the Nature-god Adonis. Aphaca was a sort of Delphi, a collection of temples rather than a town. It was dedicated especially to the worship of the Syrian goddess, Ashtoreth or Venus, sometimes called Beltis or Baaltis, whose orgies were of so disgracefully licentious a character that they were at last absolutely forbidden by Constantine. At present there are no remains on the ancient site except one or two ruins of edifices decidedly Roman in character.[73] Nor is the gorge of the Adonis any richer in ancient buildings. There was a time when the whole valley formed a sort of “Holy Land,”[74] and at intervals on its course were shown “Tombs of Adonis,”[75] analogous to the artificial “Holy Sepulchres” of many European towns in the middle ages. All, however, have disappeared, and the traveller looks in vain for any traces of that curious cult which in ancient times made Aphaca and its river one of the most noted of the holy spots of Syria and a favourite resort of pilgrims.

Twenty-three miles south of Byblus was Berytus, which disputed with Byblus the palm of antiquity.[76] Berytus was situated on a promontory in Lat. 33º 54´, and had a port of a fair size, protected towards the west by a pier, which followed the line of a ridge of rocks running out from the promontory towards the north. It was not of any importance during the flourishing Phœnician period, but grew to greatness under the Romans,[77] when its harbour was much improved, and the town greatly extended.[78] By the time of Justinian it had become the chief city of Phœnicia, and was celebrated as a school of law and science.[79] The natural advantages of its situation have caused it to retain a certain importance, and in modern times it has drawn to itself almost the whole of the commerce which Europe maintains with Syria.

Arka, or Arqa, the home of the Arkites of Genesis,[80] can never have been a place of much consequence. It lies at a distance of four miles from the shore, on one of the outlying hills which form the skirts of Lebanon, in Lat. 34º 33, Long. 33º 44´ nearly. The towns nearest to it were Orthosia, Simyra, and Tripolis. It was of sufficient consequence to be mentioned in the Assyrian Inscriptions,[81] though not to attract the notice of Strabo.

Ecdippa, south of Tyre, in Lat. 33º 1´, is no doubt the scriptural Achzib,[82] which was made the northern boundary of Asher at the division of the Holy Land among the twelve tribes. The Assyrian monarchs speak of it under the same name, but mention it rarely, and apparently as a dependency of Sidon.[83] The old name, in the shortened form of “Zeb,” still clings to the place.

Still further to the south, five miles from Ecdippa, and about twenty- two miles from Tyre, lay Akko or Accho, at the northern extremity of a wide bay, which terminates towards the south in the promontory of Carmel. Next to the Bay of St. George, near Beyrout, this is the best natural roadstead on the Syrian coast; and this advantage, combined with its vicinity to the plain of Esdraelon, has given to Accho at various periods of history a high importance, as in some sense “the key of Syria.” The Assyrians, in their wars with Palestine and Egypt, took care to conquer and retain it.[84] When the Ptolemies became masters of the tract between Egypt and Mount Taurus, they at once saw its value, occupied it, strengthened its defences, and gave it the name of Ptolemaïs. The old appellation has, however, reasserted itself; and, as Acre, the city played an important part in the Crusades, in the Napoleonic attempt on Egypt, and in the comparatively recent expedition of Ibrahim Pasha. It had a small port of its own to the south-east of the promontory on which it stood, which, like the other ports of the ancient Phœnicia, is at the present time almost wholly sanded up.[85] But its roadstead was of more importance than its port, and was used by the Persians as a station for their fleet, from which they could keep watch on Egypt.[86]

South of Accho and south of Carmel, close upon the shore, which is here low and flat, was Dor, now Tantura, the seat of a kingdom in the time of Joshua,[87] and allotted after its conquest to Manasseh.[88] Here Solomon placed one of his purveyors,[89] and here the great Assyrian monarch Tiglath-pileser II. likewise placed a “governor,” about B.C. 732, when he reduced it.[90] Dor was one of the places where the shell-fish which produced the purple dye were most abundant, and remained in the hands of the Phœnicians during all the political changes which swept over Syria and Palestine to a late period.[91] It had fallen to ruin, however, by the time of Jerome,[92] and the present remains are unimportant.

The extreme Phœnician city on the south was Japho or Joppa. It lay in Lat. 32º 2´, close to the territory of Dan,[93] but continued to be held by the Phœnicians until the time of the Maccabees,[94] when it became Jewish. The town was situated on the slope of a low hill near the sea, and possessed anciently a tolerable harbour, from which a trade was carried on with Tartessus.[95] As the seaport nearest to Jerusalem, it was naturally the chief medium of the commerce which was carried on between the Phœnicians and the Jews. Thither, in the time of Solomon, were brought the floats of timber cut in Lebanon for the construction of the Temple and the royal palace; and thither, no doubt, were conveyed “the wheat, and the barley, and the oil, and the wine,” which the Phœnicians received in return for their firs and cedars.[96] A similar exchange of commodities was made nearly five centuries later at the same place, when the Jews returned from the captivity under Zerubbabel.[97] In Roman times the foundation of Cæsaræa reduced Joppa to insignificance; yet it still, as Jaffa or Yáfa, retains a certain amount of trade, and is famous for its palm- groves and gardens.

Joppa towards the south was balanced by Ramantha, or Laodicea, towards the north. Fifty miles north of Aradus and Antaradus (Tortosa), in Lat. 35º 30´ nearly, occupying the slope of a hill facing the sea, with chalky cliffs on either side, that, like those of Dover, whiten the sea, and with Mount Casius in the background, lay the most northern of all the Phœnician cities in a fertile and beautiful territory.[98] The original appellation was, we are told, Ramantha,[99] a name intended probably to mark the /lofty/ situation of the place;[100] but this appellation was forced to give way to the Greek term, Laodicea, when Seleucus Nicator, having become king of Syria, partially rebuilt Ramantha and colonised it with Greeks.[101] The coins of the city under the Seleucidæ show its semi-Greek, semi- Phœnician character, having legends in both languages. One of these, in the Phœnician character, is read as /l’Ladika am b’Canaan/, i.e. “of Laodicea, a metropolis in Canaan,” and seems to show that the city claimed not only to be independent, but to have founded, and to hold under its sway, a number of smaller towns.[102] It may have exercised a dominion over the entire tract from Mount Casius to Paltos, where the dominion of Aradus began. Laodicea is now Latakia, and is famous for the tobacco grown in the neighbourhood. It still makes use of its ancient port, which would be fairly commodious if it were cleared of the sand that at present chokes it.[103]

It has been said that Phœnicia was composed of “three worlds” with distinct characteristics;[104] but perhaps the number of the “worlds” should be extended to five. First came that of Ramantha, reaching from the Mons Casius to the river Badas, a distance of about fifty miles, a remote and utterly sequestered region, into which neither Assyria nor Egypt ever thought of penetrating. Commerce with Cyprus and southern Asia Minor was especially open to the mariners of this region, who could see the shores of Cyprus without difficulty on a clear day. Next came the “world” of Aradus, reaching along the coast from the Badas to the Eleutherus, another stretch of fifty miles, and including the littoral islands, especially that of Ruad, on which Aradus was built. This tract was less sequestered than the more northern one, and contains traces of having been subjected to influences from Egypt at an early period. The gap between Lebanon and Bargylus made the Aradian territory accessible from the Cœlesyrian valley; and there is reason to believe that one of the roads which Egyptian and Assyrian conquest followed in these parts was that which passed along the coast as far as the Eleutherus and then turned eastward and north-eastward to Emesa (Hems) and Hamath. It must have been conquerors marching by this line who set up their effigies at the mouth of the Nahr-el-Kelb, and those who pursued it would naturally make a point of reducing Aradus. Thus this second Phœnician “world” has not the isolated character of the first, but shows marks of Assyrian, and still more of early Egyptian, influence. The third Phœnician “world” is that of Gebal or Byblus. Its limits would seem to be the Eleutherus on the north, and on the south the Tamyras, which would allow it a length of a little above eighty miles. This district, it has been said, preserved to the last days of paganism a character which was original and well marked. Within its limits the religious sentiment had more intensity and played a more important part in life than elsewhere in Phœnicia. Byblus was a sort of Phœnician Jerusalem. By their turn of mind and by the language which they spoke, the Byblians or Giblites seem to have been, of all the Phœnicians, those who most resembled the Hebrews. King Jehavmelek, who probably reigned at Byblus about B.C. 400, calls himself “a just king,” and prays that he may obtain favour in the sight of God. Later on it was at Byblus, and in the valleys of the Lebanon depending on it, that the inhabitants celebrated those mysteries of Astarte, together with that orgiastic worship of Adonis or Tammuz, which were so popular in Syria during the whole of the Greco-Roman period.[105] The fourth Phœnician “world” was that of Tyre and Sidon, beginning at the Tamyras and ending with the promontory of Carmel. Here it was that the Phœnician character developed especially those traits by which it is commonly known to the world at large–a genius for commerce and industry, a passion for the undertaking of long and perilous voyages, an adaptability to circumstances of all kinds, and an address in dealing with wild tribes of many different kinds which has rarely been equalled and never exceeded. “All that we are about to say of Phœnicia,” declares the author recently quoted, “of its rapid expansion and the influence which it exercised over the nations of the West, must be understood especially of Tyre and Sidon. The other towns might furnish sailors to man the Tyrian fleet or merchandise for their cargo, but it was Sidon first and then (with even more determination and endurance) Tyre which took the initiative and the conduct of the movement; it was the mariners of these two towns who, with eyes fixed on the setting sun, pushed their explorations as far as the Pillars of Hercules, and eventually even further.”[106] The last and least important of the Phœnician “worlds” was the southern one, extending sixty miles from Carmel to Joppa–a tract from which the Phœnician character was well nigh trampled out by the feet of strangers ever passing up and down the smooth and featureless region, along which lay the recognised line of route between Syria and Mesopotamia on the one hand, Philistia and Egypt on the other.[107]

CHAPTER V

THE COLONIES

Circumstances which led the Phœnicians to colonise–Their colonies best grouped geographically–1. Colonies of the Eastern Mediterranean–in Cyprus, Citium, Amathus, Curium, Paphos, Salamis, Ammochosta, Tamisus, and Soli;–in Cilicia, Tarsus;–in Lycia, Phaselis;–in Rhodes, Lindus, Ialysus, Camirus;–in Crete, and the Cyclades;–in the Northern Egean; &c. 2. In the Central and Western Mediterranean–in Africa, Utica, Hippo-Zaritis, Hippo Regius, Carthage, Hadrumetum, Leptis Minor, Leptis Major, and Thapsus;–in Sicily, Motya, Eryx, Panormus, Solocis;–between Sicily and Africa, Cossura, Gaulos, and Melita;–in Sardinia, Caralis, Nora, Sulcis, and Tharros;–in the Balearic Isles;–in Spain, Malaca, Sex, Abdera. 3. Outside the Straits of Gibraltar;– in Africa, Tingis, and Lixus; in Spain, Tartessus, Gades, and Belon–Summary.

The narrowness of the territory which the Phœnicians occupied the military strength of their neighbours towards the north and towards the south, and their own preference of maritime over agricultural pursuits, combined to force them, as they began to increase and multiply, to find a vent for their superfluous population in colonies. The military strength of Philistia and Egypt barred them out from expansion upon the south; the wild savagery of the mountain races in Casius, northern Bargylus, and Amanus was an effectual barrier towards the north; but before them lay the open Mediterranean, placid during the greater portion of the year, and conducting to a hundred lands, thinly peopled, or even unoccupied, where there was ample room for any number of immigrants. The trade of the Phœnicians with the countries bordering the Eastern Mediterranean must be regarded as established long previously to the time when they began to feel cramped for space; and thus, when that time arrived, they had no difficulty in finding fresh localities to occupy, except such as might arise from a too abundant amplitude of choice. Right in front of them lay, at the distance of not more than seventy miles, visible from Casius in clear weather,[1] the large and important island, once known as Chittim,[2] and afterwards as Cyprus, which played so important a part in the history of the East from the time of Sargon and Sennacherib to that of Bragadino and Mustapha Pasha. To the right, well visible from Cyprus, was the fertile tract of Cilicia Campestris, which led on to the rich and picturesque regions of Pamphylia, Lycia, and Caria. From Caria stretched out, like a string of stepping-stones between Asia and Europe, the hundred islets of the Ægean, Cyclades, and Sporades, and others, inviting settlers, and conducting to the large islands of Crete and Eubœa, and the shores of Attica and the Peloponnese. It is impossible to trace with any exactness the order in which the Phœnician colonies were founded. A thousand incidental circumstances– a thousand caprices–may have deranged what may be called the natural or geographical order, and have caused the historical order to diverge from it; but, on the whole, probably something like the geographical order was observed; and, at any rate, it will be most convenient, in default of sufficient data for an historical arrangement, to adopt in the present place a geographic one, and, beginning with those nearest to Phœnicia itself in the Eastern Mediterranean, to proceed westward to the Straits of Gibraltar, reserving for the last those outside the Straits on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean.

The nearest, and probably the first, region to attract Phœnician colonies was the island of Cyprus. Cyprus lies in the corner of the Eastern Mediterranean formed by the projection of Asia Minor from the Syrian shore. Its mountain chains run parallel with Taurus, and it is to Asia Minor that it presents its longer flank, while to Phœnicia it presents merely one of its extremities. Its length from east to west is 145 miles, its greatest width about sixty miles.[3] Two strongly marked mountain ranges form its most salient features, the one running close along the north coast from Cape Kormaciti to Cape S. Andreas; the other nearly central, but nearer the south, beginning at Cape Renaouti in the west and terminating at Cape Greco. The mountain ranges are connected by a tract of high ground towards the centre, and separated by two broad plains,[4] towards the east and west. The eastern plain is the more important of the two. It extends along the course of the Pediæus from Leucosia, or Nicosia, the present capital, to Salamis, a distance of thirty-five miles, and is from five to twelve miles wide. The fertility of the soil was reckoned in ancient times to equal that of Egypt.[5] The western plain, that of Morfou, is much smaller, and is watered by a less important river. The whole island, when it first became known to the Phœnicians, was well wooded.[6] Lovely glens opened upon them, as they sailed along its southern coast, watered by clear streams from the southern mountain-range, and shaded by thick woods of pine and cedar, the latter of which are said to have in some cases attained a greater size even than those of the Lebanon.[7] The range was also prolific of valuable metals.[8] Gold and silver were found in places, but only in small quantities; iron was yielded in considerable abundance; but the chief supply was that of copper, which derived its name from that of the island.[9] Other products of the island were wheat of excellent quality; the rich Cyprian wine which retains its strength and flavour for well nigh a century, the /henna/ dye obtained from the plant called /copher/ or /cyprus/, the /Lawsonia alba/ of modern botany; valuable pigments of various kinds, red, yellow, green, and amber; hemp and flax; tar, boxwood,[10] and all the materials requisite for shipbuilding from the heavy timbers needed for the keel to the lightest spar and the flimsiest sail.[11]

The earliest of the Phœnician settlements in Cyprus seem to have lain upon its southern coast. Here were Citium, Amathus, Curium, and Paphus, the Palæ-paphus of the geographers, which have all yielded abundant traces of a Phœnician occupation at a very distant period. Citium, now Larnaka, was on the western side of a deep bay, which indents the more eastern portion of the southern coast, between the promontories of Citi and Pyla. It is sheltered from all winds except the south-east, and continues to the present day the chief port of the island. The Phœnician settlers improved on the natural position by the formation of an artificial basin, enclosed within piers, the lines of which may be traced, though the basin itself is sanded up.[12] A plain extends for some distance inland, on which the palm-tree flourishes, and which is capable of producing excellent crops of wheat.[13] Access to the interior is easy; for the mountain range sinks as it proceeds eastward, and between Citium and Dali (Idalium), on a tributary of the Pediæus, is of small elevation. There are indications that the Phœnicians did not confine themselves to the coast, but penetrated into the interior, and even settled there in large numbers. Idalium, sixteen miles north-west of Citium, and Golgi (Athiénau), ten miles nearly due north of the same, show traces of having supported for a considerable time a large Phœnician population,[14] and must be regarded as outposts advanced from Citium into the mountains for trading, and perhaps for mining purposes. Idalium (Dali) has a most extensive Phœnician necropolis; the interments have a most archaic character; and their Phœnician origin is indicated both by their close resemblance to interments in Phœnicia proper and by the discovery, in connection with them, of Phœnician inscriptions.[15] At Golgi the remains scarcely claim so remote an antiquity. They belong to the time when Phœnician art was dominated by a strong Egyptian influence, and when it also begins to have a partially Hellenic character. Some critics assign them to the sixth, or even to the fifth century, B.C.[16]

West of Citium, also upon the south coast, and in a favourable situation for trade with the interior, was Amathus. The name Amathus has been connected with “Hamath;”[17] but there is no reason to suppose that the Hamathites were Phœnicians. Amathus, which Stephen of Byzantium calls “a most ancient Cyprian city,”[18] was probably among the earliest of the Phœnician settlements in the island. It lay in the bay formed by the projection of Cape Gatto from the coast, and, like Citium, looked to the south-east. Westward and south-westward stretched an extensive plain, fertile and well-watered, shaded by carob and olive-trees,[19] whilst towards the north were the rich copper mines from which the Amathusians derived much of their prosperity. The site has yielded a considerable amount of Phœnician remains–tombs, sarcophagi, vases, bowls, pateræ and statuettes.[20] Many of the tombs resemble those at Idalium; others are stone chambers deeply buried in the earth. The mimetic art shows Assyrian and Egyptian influence, but is essentially Phœnician, and of great interest. Further reference will be made to it in the Chapter on the Æsthetic Art of the Phœnicians.

Still further to the west, in the centre of the bay enclosed between the promontories of Zeugari and Boosoura, was the colony of Curium, on a branch of the river Kuras. Curium lay wholly open to the south- western-gales, but had a long stretch of sandy shore towards the south-east, on which vessels could be drawn up. The town was situated on a rocky elevation, 300 feet in height, and was further defended by a strong wall, a large portion of which may still be traced.[21] The richest discovery of Phœnician ornaments and objects of art that has yet been made took place at Curium, where, in the year 1874, General Di Cesnola happened upon a set of “Treasure Chambers” containing several hundreds of rings, gems, necklaces, bracelets, armlets, ear- rings, bowls, basins, jugs, pateræ, &c., in the precious metals, which have formed the principal material for all recent disquisitions on the true character and excellency of Phœnician art. Commencing with works of which the probable date is the fifteenth or sixteenth century B.C., and descending at least as far as the best Greek period[22] (B.C. 500- 400), embracing, moreover, works which are purely Assyrian, purely Egyptian, and purely Greek, this collection has yet so predominant a Phœnician character as to mark Curium, notwithstanding the contrary assertions of the Greeks themselves,[23] for a thoroughly Phœnician town. And the history of the place confirms this view, since Curium sided with Amathus and the Persians in the war of Onesilus.[24] No doubt, like most of the other Phœnician cities in Cyprus, it was Hellenised gradually; but there must have been many centuries during which it was an emporium of Phœnician trade and a centre of Phœnician influence.

Where the southern coast of Cyprus begins to trend to the north-west, and a river of some size, the Bocarus or Diorizus, reaches the sea, stood the Phœnician settlement of Paphos, founded (as was said[25]) by Cinyras, king of Byblus. Here was one of the most celebrated of all the temples of Astarté or Ashtoreth,[26] the Phœnician Nature-Goddess; and here ruled for many centuries the sacerdotal class of the Cinyridæ. The remains of the temple have been identified, and will be described in a future chapter. They have the massive character of all early Phœnician architecture.

Among other Phœnician settlements in Cyprus were, it is probable, Salamis, Ammochosta (now Famagosta), Tamasus, and Soli. Salamis must be regarded as originally Phœnician on account of the name, which cannot be viewed as anything but another form of the Hebrew “Salem,” the alternative name of Jerusalem.[27] Salamis lay on the eastern coast of the island at the mouth of the main river, the Pediæus. It occupied the centre of a large bay which looked towards Phœnicia, and would naturally be the place where the Phœnicians would first land. There is no natural harbour beyond that afforded by the mouth of the Pediæus, but a harbour was easily made by throwing out piers into the bay; and of this, which is now sanded up, the outline may be traced.[28] There are, however, no remains, either at Salamis or in the immediate neighbourhood, which can claim to be regarded as Phœnician; and the glories of the city belong to the history of Greece.

Ammochosta was situated within a few miles of Salamis, towards the south.[29] Its first appearance in history belongs to the reign of Esarhaddon (B.C. 680), when we find it in a list of ten Cyprian cities, each having its own king, who acknowledged for their suzerain the great monarch of Assyria.[30] Soon afterwards it again occurs among the cities tributary to Asshur-bani-pal.[31] Otherwise we have no mention of it in Phœnician times. As Famagosta it was famous in the wars between the Venetians and the Turks.

Tamasus, or Tamassus, was an inland city, and the chief seat of the mining operations which the Phœnicians carried on in the island in search of copper.[32] It lay a few miles to the west of Idalium (Dali), on the northern flank of the southern mountain chain. The river Pediæus flowed at its feet. Like Ammochosta, it appears among the Cyprian towns which in the seventh century B.C. were tributary to the Assyrians.[33] The site is still insufficiently explored.

Soli lay upon the coast, in the recess of the gulf of Morfou.[34] The fiction of its foundation by Philocyprus at the suggestion of Solon[35] is entirely disproved by the occurrence of the name in the Assyrian lists of Cyprian towns a century before Solon’s time. Its sympathies were with the Phœnician, and not with the Hellenic, population of the island, as was markedly shown when it joined with Amathus and Citium in calling to Artaxerxes for help against Evagoras.[36] The city stood on the left bank of the river Clarius, and covered the northern slope of a low hill detached from the main range, extending also over the low ground at the foot of the hill to within a short distance of the shore, where are to be seen the remains of the ancient harbour. The soil in the neighbourhood is very rich, and adapted for almost any kind of cultivation.[37] In the mountains towards the south were prolific veins of copper.

The northern coast of the island between Capes Cormaciti and S. Andreas does not seem to have attracted the Phœnicians, though there are some who regard Lapethus and Cerynia as Phœnician settlements.[38] It is a rock-bound shore of no very tempting aspect, behind which the mountain range rises up steeply. Such Phœnician emigrants as held their way along the Salaminian plain and, rounding Cape S. Andreas, passed into the channel that separates Cyprus from the mainland, found the coast upon their right attract them far more than that upon their left, and formed settlements in Cilicia which ultimately became of considerable importance. The chief of these was Tars or Tarsus, probably the Tarshish of Genesis,[39] though not that of the later Books, a Phœnician city, which has Phœnician characters upon its coins, and worshipped the supreme Phœnician deity under the title of “Baal Tars,” “the Lord of Tarsus.”[40] Tarsus commanded the rich Cilician plain up to the very roots of Taurus, was watered by the copious stream of the Cydnus, and had at its mouth a commodious harbour. Excellent timber for shipbuilding grew on the slopes of the hills bounding the plain, and the river afforded a ready means of floating such timber down to the sea. Cleopatra’s ships are said to have been derived from the Cilician forests, which Antony made over to her for the purpose.[41] Other Phœnician settlements upon the Cilician coast were, it is probable, Soli, Celenderis, and Nagidus.

Pursuing their way westward, in search of new abodes, the emigrants would pass along the coast, first of Pamphylia and then of Lycia. In Pamphylia there is no settlement that can be with confidence assigned to them; but in Lycia it would seem that they colonised Phaselis, and perhaps other places. The mountain which rises immediately behind Phaselis was called “Solyma;”[42] and a very little to the south was another mountain known as “Phœnicus.”[43] Somewhat further to the west lies the cape still called Cape Phineka,[44] in which the root Phœnix ({phoinix}) is again to be detected. A large district inland was named Cabalis or Cabalia,[45] or (compare Phœn. and Heb. /gebal/, mod. Arab. /jebel/) the “mountain” country. Phaselis was situated on a promontory projecting south-eastward into the Mediterranean,[46] and was reckoned to have three harbours,[47] which are marked in the accompanying chart. Of these the principal one was that on the western side of the isthmus, which was formed by a stone pier carried out for more than two hundred yards into the sea, and still to be traced under the water.[48] The other two, which were of smaller size, lay towards the east. The Phœnicians were probably tempted to make a settlement at the place, partly by the three ports, partly by the abundance of excellent timber for shipbuilding which the neighbourhood furnishes. “Between Phaselis and Cape Avora, a little north of it,” says a modern traveller, “a belt of large and handsome pines borders the shore for some miles.”[49]

From Lycia the Asiatic coast westward and north-westward was known as Caria; and here Phœnician settlements appear to have been numerous. The entire country was at any rate called Phœnicé by some authors.[50] But the circumstances do not admit of our pointing out any special Phœnician settlements in this quarter, which early fell under almost exclusive Greek influence. There are ample grounds, however, for believing that the Phœnicians colonised Rhodes at the south-western angle of Asia Minor, off the Carian coast. According to Conon,[51] the earliest inhabitants of Rhodes were the Heliades, whom the Phœnicians expelled. The Phœnicians themselves were at a later date expelled by the Carians, and the Carians by the Greeks. Ergeias, however, the native historian, declared[52] that the Phœnicians remained, at any rate in some parts of the island, until the Greeks drove them out. Ialysus was, he said, one of their cities. Dictys Cretensis placed Phœnicians, not only in Ialysus, but in Camirus also.[53] It is the conclusion of Kenrick that “the Phœnician settlement in Rhodes was the first which introduced civilisation among the primeval inhabitants, and that they maintained their ascendancy till the rise of the naval power of the Carians. These new settlers reduced the Phœnicians to the occupancy of three principal towns”–i.e. Lindus, Ialysus, and Camirus; but “from these too they were expelled by the Dorians, or only allowed to remain at Ialysus as the hereditary priesthood of their native god.”[54] Rhodes is an island about one-fourth the size of Cyprus, with its axis from the north-east to the south-west. It possesses excellent harbours, accessible from all quarters,[55] and furnishing a secure shelter in all weathers. The fertility of the soil is great; and the remarkable history of the island shows the importance which attaches to it in the hands of an enterprising people. Turkish apathy has, however, succeeded in reducing it to insignificance.

The acquisition of Rhodes led the stream of Phœnician colonisation onwards in two directions, south-westward and north-westward. South- westward, it passed by way of Carpathus and Casus to Crete, and then to Cythera; north-westward, by way of Chalcia, Telos, and Astypalæa, to the Cyclades and Sporades. The presence of the Phœnicians in Crete is indicated by the haven “Phœnix,” where St. Paul’s conductors hoped to have wintered their ship;[56] by the town of Itanus, which was named after a Phœnician founder,[57] and was a staple of the purple- trade,[58] and by the existence near port Phœnix of a town called “Araden.” Leben, on the south coast, near Cape Leo, seems also to have derived its name from the Semitic word for “lion.”[59] Crete, however, does not appear to have been occupied by the Phœnicians at more than a few points, or for colonising so much as for trading purposes. They used its southern ports for refitting and repairing their ships, but did not penetrate into the interior, must less attempt to take possession of the whole extensive territory. It was otherwise with the smaller islands. Cythera is said to have derived its name from the Phœnician who colonised it, and the same is also reported of Melos.[60] Ios was, we are told, originally called Phœnicé;[61] Anaphé had borne the name of Membliarus, after one of the companions of Cadmus;[62] Oliarus, or Antiparos, was colonised from Sidon.[63] Thera’s earliest inhabitants were of the Phœnician race;[64] either Phœnicians or Carians had, according to Thucydides,[65] colonised in remote times “the greater part of the islands of the Ænean.” There was a time when probably all the Ægean islands were Phœnician possessions, or at any rate acknowledged Phœnician influence, and Siphnus gave its gold, its silver,[66] and its lead,[67] Cythera its shell-fish,[68] Paros its marble, Melos its sulphur and its alum,[69] Nisyrus its millstones,[70] and the islands generally their honey,[71] to increase the wealth and advance the commercial interests of their Phœnician masters.

From the Sporades and Cyclades the advance was easy to the islands of the Northern Ægean, Lemnos, Imbrus, Thasos, and Samothrace. The settlement of the Phœnicians in Thasos is attested by Herodotus, who says that the Tyrian Hercules (Melkarth) was worshipped there,[72] and ascribes to the Phœnicians extensive mining operations on the eastern shores of the island between Ænyra and Cœnyra.[73] A Phœnician occupation of Lemnos, Imbrus, and Samothrace is indicated by the worship in those islands of the Cabeiri,[74] who were undoubtedly Phœnician deities. Whether the Phœnicians passed from these islands to the Thracian mainland, and worked the gold-mines of Mount Pangæus in the vicinity of Philippi, may perhaps be doubtful, but such seems to have been the belief of Strabo and Pliny.[75] Strabo also believed that there had been a Semitic element in the population of Eubœa which had been introduced by Cadmus;[76] and a Phœnician settlement in Bœotia was the current tradition of the Greek writers upon primitive times, whether historians or geographers.[77]

The further progress of the Phœnician settlements northward into the Propontis and the Euxine is a point whereon different opinions may be entertained. Pronectus, on the Bithynian, and Amastris, on the Paphlagonian coast, have been numbered among the colonies of the Phœnicians by some;[78] while others have gone so far as to ascribe to them the colonisation of the entire countries of Bithynia, Mariandynia, and Paphlagonia.[79] The story of the Argonauts may fairly be held to show[80] that Phœnician enterprise early penetrated into the stormy and inhospitable sea which washes Asia Minor upon the north, and even reached its deepest eastern recess; but it is one thing to sail into seas, and, landing where the natives seem friendly, to traffic with the dwellers on them–it is quite another thing to attempt a permanent occupation of portions of their coasts. To do so often provokes hostility, and puts a stop to trade instead of encouraging it. The Phœnicians may have been content to draw their native products from the barbarous tribes of Northern Asia Minor and Western Thrace–nay, even of Southern Scythia–without risking the collisions that might have followed the establishment of settlements.

As with the Black Sea, so with the Adriatic, the commercial advantages were not sufficient to tempt the Phœnicians to colonise. From Crete and Cythera they sent their gaze afar, and fixed it midway in the Mediterranean, at the western extremity of the eastern basin, on the shores of Sicily, and the vast projection from the coast of North Africa which goes forth to meet them. They knew the harbourless character of the African coast west of Egypt, and the dangers of the Lesser and Greater Syrtes. They knew the fertility of the Tunisian projection, the excellence of its harbours, and the prolificness of the large island that lay directly opposite. Here were the tracts where they might expand freely, and which would richly repay their occupation of them. It was before the beginning of the eleventh century B.C.–perhaps some centuries before–that the colonisation of North Africa by the Phœnicians was taken in hand:[81] and about the same time, in all probability, the capes and isles about Sicily were occupied,[82] and Phœnician influence in a little time extended over the entire island.

In North Africa the first colony planted is said to have been Utica. Utica was situated a little to the west of Carthage, at the mouth of the Mejerda or Bagradas river.[83] It stood on a rocky promontory which ran out into the sea eastward, and partially protected its harbour. At the opposite extremity, towards the north, ran out another promontory, the modern Ras Sidi Ali-el-Mekki, while the mouth of the harbour, which faced to the south-east, was protected by some islands. At present the deposits of the Mejerda have blocked up almost the whole of this ancient port, and the rocky eminence upon which the city stood looks down on three sides upon a broad alluvial plain, through which the Mejerda pursues a tortuous course to the sea.[84] The remains of the ancient town, which occupy the promontory and a peninsula projecting from it, include a necropolis, an amphitheatre, a theatre, a castle, the ruins of a temple, and some remains of baths; but they have nothing about them bearing any of the characteristics of Phœnician architecture, and belong wholly to the Roman or post-Roman period. The neighbourhood is productive of olives, which yield an excellent oil; and in the hills towards the south-west are veins of lead, containing a percentage of silver, which are thought to bear traces of having been worked at a very early date.[85]

Near Utica was founded, probably not many years later, the settlement of Hippo-Zaritis, of which the name still seems to linger in the modern Bizerta. Hippo-Zaritis stood on the west bank of a natural channel, which united with the sea a considerable lagoon or salt lake, lying south of the town. The channel was kept open by an irregular flux and reflux, the water of the lake after the rainy season flowing off into the sea, and that of the sea, correspondingly, in the dry season passing into the lake.[86] At the present time the lake is extraordinarily productive of fish,[87] and the sea outside yields coral;[88] but otherwise the advantages of the situation are not great.

Two degrees further to the west, on a hill overlooking the sea, and commanding a lovely prospect over the verdant plain at its base, watered by numerous streams, was founded the colony of Hippo Regius, memorable as having been for five-and-thirty years the residence of St. Augustine. The Phœnicians were probably attracted to the site by the fertility of the soil, the unfailing supplies of water, and the abundant timber and rich iron ore of the neighbouring mountains.[89] Hippo Regius is now Bona, or rather has been replaced by that town, which lies about a mile and a half north of the ancient Hippo, close upon the coast, in the fertile tract formed by the soil brought down by the river Seybouse. The old harbour of Hippo is filled up, and the remains of the ancient city are scanty; but the lovely gardens and orchards, which render Bona one of the most agreeable of Algerian towns, sufficiently explain and justify the Phœnician choice of the site.[90]

In the same bay with Utica, further to the south, and near its inner recess, was founded, nearly three centuries after Utica, the most important of all the Phœnician colonies, Carthage. The advantages of the locality are indicated by the fact that the chief town of Northern Africa, Tunis, has grown up within a short distance of the site. It combined the excellences of a sheltered situation, a good soil, defensible eminences, and harbours which a little art made all that was to be desired in ancient times and with ancient navies. These basins, partly natural, partly artificial, still exist;[91] but their communication with the sea is blocked up, as also is the channel which connected the military harbour with the harbours of commerce. The remains of the ancient town are mostly beneath the surface of the soil, but modern research has uncovered a portion of them, and brought to light a certain number of ruins which belong probably to the very earliest period. Among these are walls in the style called “Cyclopian,” built of a very hard material, and more than thirty-two feet thick, which seem to have surrounded the ancient Byrsa or citadel, and which are still in places sixteen feet high.[92] The Roman walls found emplaced above these are of far inferior strength and solidity. An extensive necropolis lies north of the ancient town, on the coast near Cape Camart.

Another early and important Phœnician settlement in these parts was Hadrumetum or Adrymes,[93] which seems to be represented by the modern Soûsa. Hadrumetum lay on the eastern side of the great Tunisian projection, near the southern extremity of a large bay which looks to the east, and is now known as the Gulf of Hammamet. Its position was upon the coast at the edge of the vast plain called at present the “Sahel of Soûsa,” which is sandy, but immensely productive of olive oil. “Millions of olive-trees,” it is said, “cover the tract,”[94] and the present annual exportation amounts to 40,000 hectolitres.[95] Ancient remains are few, but the Cothon, or circular harbour, may still be traced, and in the necropolis, which almost wholly encircles the town, many sepulchral chambers have been found, excavated in the chalk, closely resembling in their arrangements those of the Phœnician mainland.

South of Hadrumetum, at no great distance, was Leptis Minor, now Lemta. The gulf of Hammamet terminates southwards in the promontory of Monastir, between which and Ras Dimas is a shallow bay looking to the north-east. Here was the Lesser Leptis, so called to distinguish it from the larger city of the same name between the Lesser and the Greater Syrtis; it was, however, a considerable town, as appears from its remains. These lie along the coast for two miles and a half in Lat. 35º 43´, and include the ruins of an aqueduct, of a theatre, of quays, and of jetties.[96] The neighbourhood is suited for the cultivation of the olive.

The Greater Leptis (Leptis Major) lay at a considerable distance from the Lesser one. Midway in the low African coast which intervenes between the Tunisian projection and the Cyrenaic one, about Long. 14º 22´ E. of Greenwich, are ruins, near a village called Lebda, which, it is generally agreed, mark the site of this ancient city. Leptis Major was a colony from Sidon, and occupied originally a small promontory, which projects from the coast in a north-easterly direction, and attains a moderate elevation above the plain at its base. Towards the mainland it was defended by a triple line of wall still to be traced, and on the sea-side by blocks of enormous strength, which are said to resemble those on the western side of the island of Aradus.[97] In Roman times the town, under the name of Neapolis,[98] attained a vast size, and was adorned with magnificent edifices, of which there are still numerous remains. The neighbourhood is rich in palm-groves and olive-groves,[99] and the Cinyps region, regarded by Herodotus as the most fertile in North Africa,[100] lies at no great distance to the east.

Ten miles east, and a little south of Leptis Minor,[101] was Thapsus, a small town, but one of great strength, famous as the scene of Julius Cæsar’s great victory over Cato.[102] It occupied a position close to the promontory now known as Ras Dimas, in Lat. 35º 39´, Long. 11º 3´, and was defended by a triple enclosure, whereof considerable remains are still existing. The outermost of the three lines appears to have consisted of little more than a ditch and a palisaded rampart, such as the Romans were accustomed to throw up whenever they pitched a camp in their wars; but the second and third were more substantial. The second, which was about forty yards behind the first, was guarded by a deeper ditch, from which rose a perpendicular stone wall, battlemented at top. The third, forty yards further back, resembled the second, but was on an enlarged scale, and the wall was twenty feet thick.[103] Such triple enclosures are thought to be traceable in other Phœnician settlements also;[104] but in no case are the remains so perfect as at Thapsus. The harbour, which lay south of the town, was protected from the prevalent northern and north-eastern winds by a huge mole or jetty, carried out originally to a distance of 450 yards from the shore, and still measuring 325 yards. The foundation consists of piles driven into the sand, and placed very close together; but the superstructure is a stone wall thirty-five feet thick, and still rising to a height of ten feet above the surface of the water.[105]

It is probable that there were many other early Phœnician settlements on the North African seaboard; but those already described were certainly the most important. The fertile coast tract between Hippo Regius and the straits is likely to have been occupied at various points from an early period. But none of these small trading settlements attained to any celebrity; and thus it is unnecessary to go into particulars respecting them.

In Sicily the permanent Phœnician settlements were chiefly towards the west and the north-west. They included Motya, Eryx, Panormus (Palermo), and Soloeis. That the Phœnicians founded Motya, Panormus, and Soloeis is distinctly stated by Thucydides;[106] while Eryx is proved to have been Phœnician by its remains. Motya, situated on a littoral island less than half a mile from the western shore, in Lat. 38º nearly, has the remains of a wall built of large stones, uncemented, in the Phœnician manner,[107] and carried, like the western wall of Aradus, so close to the coast as to be washed by the waves. It is said by Diodorus to have been at one time a most flourishing town.[108] The coins have Phœnician legends.[109]

Eryx lay about seven miles to the north-east of Motya, in a very strong position. Mount Eryx (now Mount Giuliano), on which it was mainly built, rises to the height of two thousand feet above the plain,[110] and, being encircled by a strong wall, was rendered almost impregnable. The summit was levelled and turned into a platform, on which was raised the temple of Astarte or Venus.[111] An excellent harbour, formed by Cape Drepanum (now Trapani), lay at its base. There were springs of water within the walls which yielded an unfailing supply. The walls were of great strength, and a considerable portion of them is still standing, and attests the skill of the Phœnician architects. The blocks in the lower courses are mostly of a large size, some of them six feet long, or more, and bear in many cases the well-known Phœnician mason-marks.[112] They are laid without cement, like those of Aradus and Sidon, and recall the style of the Aradian builders, but are at once less massive and arranged with more skill. The breadth of the wall is about seven feet. At intervals it is flanked by square towers projecting from it, which are of even greater strength than the curtain between them, and which were carried up to a greater height. The doorways in the wall are numerous, and are of a very archaic character, being either covered in by a single long stone lintel or else terminating in a false arch.[113] The commercial advantages of Eryx were twofold, consisting in the produce of the sea as well as in that of the shore. The shore is well suited for the cultivation of the vine,[114] while the neighbouring sea yields tunny-fish, sponges, and coral.[115]

Panormus (now Palermo) occupies a site almost unequalled by any other Mediterranean city, a site which has conferred upon it the title of “the happy,” and has rendered it for above a thousand years the most important place in the island. “There is no town in Europe which enjoys a more delicious climate, none so charming to look on from a distance, none more delightfully situated in a nest of verdure and flowers. Its superb mountains, with their bare flanks pierced along their base with grottoes, enclose a marvellous garden, the famous ‘Shell of Gold,’ in the midst of which are seen the numerous towers and domes, the fan-like foliage of the palms, the spreading branches of the pines, and Mount Reale on the south towering over all with its vast mass of convents and churches.”[116] The harbour lies open to the north; but the Phœnician settlers, here as elsewhere, no doubt made artificial ports by means of piers and moles, which have, however, disappeared on this much-frequented site, where generation after generation has been continually at work building and destroying. Panormus has left us no antique remains beyond its coins, which are abundant, and show that the native name of the settlement was Mahanath.[117] Mahanath was situated about forty miles east of Eryx, on the northern coast of the island.

Solus, or Soloeis, the Soluntum of the Romans (now Solanto), lay on the eastern side of the promontory (Cape Zafferana) which shuts in the bay of Palermo on the right. It stood on a slope at the foot of a lofty hill, overlooking a small round port, and was fortified by a wall of large squared blocks of stone,[118] which may be still distinctly traced. The site has yielded sarcophagi of an unmistakably Phœnician character,[119] and other objects of a high antiquity which recall the Phœnician manner;[120] but the chief remains belong to the Greco-Roman times.

The islands in the strait which separates the North African coast from Sicily were also colonised by the Phœnicians. These were three in number, Cossura (now Pantellaria), Gaulos (now Gozzo), and Melita (now Malta). Cossura, the most western of the three, lay about midway in the channel, but nearer to the African coast, from which it is distant not more than about thirty-five miles. It is a mass of igneous rock, which was once a volcano, and which still abounds in hot springs and in jets of steam.[121] There was no natural harbour of any size, but the importance of the position was such that the Phœnicians felt bound to occupy the island, if only to prevent its occupation by others. The soil was sterile; but the coins, which are very numerous,[122] give reason to suppose that the rocks were in early times rich in copper.

Gaulos (now Gozzo) forms, together with Malta and some islets, an insular group lying between the eastern part of Sicily and the Lesser Syrtis. It is situated in Lat. 36º 2´, Long. 12º 10´ nearly, and is distant from Sicily only about fifty miles. The colonisation of the island by the Phœnicians, asserted by Diodorus,[123] is entirely borne out by the remains, which include a Phœnician inscription of some length,[124] coins with Phœnician legends,[125] and buildings, believed to be temples, which have Phœnician characteristics.[126] Some of the blocks of stone employed in their construction have a length of nearly twenty feet,[127] with a width and height proportionate; and all are put together without cement or mortar of any kind. A conical stone of the kind known to have been used by the Phœnicians in their worship was found in one of the temples.[128] Gaulos had a port which was reckoned sufficiently commodious, and which lay probably towards the south-east end of the island.

Melita, or Malta, which lies at a short distance from Gozzo, to the south-east, is an island of more than double the size, and of far greater importance. It possesses in La Valetta one of the best harbours, or rather two of the best harbours, in the world. All the navies of Europe could anchor comfortably in the “great port” to the east of the town. The western port is smaller, but is equally well sheltered. Malta has no natural product of much importance, unless it be the honey, after which some think that it was named.[129] The island is almost treeless, and the light powdery soil gives small promise of fertility. Still, the actual produce, both in cereals and in green crops, is large; and the oranges, especially those known as mandarines, are of superior quality. Malta also produced, in ancient as in modern times, the remarkable breed of small dogs[130] which is still held in such high esteem. But the Phœnician colonisation must have taken place rather on account of the situation and the harbour than on account of the products.

From Sicily and North Africa the tide of emigration naturally and easily flowed on into Sardinia, which is distant, from the former about 150 and from the latter about 115 miles. The points chosen by the Phœnician settlers lay in the more open and level region of the south and the south-west, and were all enclosed within a line which might be drawn from the coast a little east of Cagliari to the northern extremity of the Gulf of Oristano.[131] The tract includes some mountain groups, but consists mainly of the long and now marshy plain, called the “Campidano,” which reaches across the island from Cagliari on the southern to Oristano on the western coast. This plain, if drained, would be by far the most fertile part of the island; and was in ancient times exceedingly productive in cereals, as we learn from Diodorus.[132] The mountains west of it, especially those about Iglesias, contain rich veins of copper and of lead, together with a certain quantity of silver.[133] Good harbours exist at Cagliari, at Oristano, and between the island of S. Antioco and the western shore. It was at these points especially that the Phœnicians made their settlements, the most important of which were Caralis (Cagliari), Nora, Sulcis, and Tharros. Caralis, or Cagliari, the present capital, lies at the bottom of a deep bay looking southwards, and has an excellent harbour, sheltered in all weathers. There are no remains of Phœnician buildings; but the neighbourhood yields abundant specimens of Phœnician art in the shape of tombs, statuettes, vases, bottles, and the like.[134] Caralis was probably the first of the settlements made by the Phœnicians in Sardinia; it would attract them by its harbour, its mines, and the fertility of its neighbourhood. From Caralis they probably passed to Nora, which lay on the same bay to the south-west; and from Nora they rounded the south-western promontory of Sardinia, and established themselves on the small island now known as the Isola di San Antioco, where they built a town which they called Sulchis or Sulcis.[135] Sulcis has yielded votive tablets of the Phœnician type, tombs, vases, &c.[136] The island was productive of lead, and had an excellent harbour towards the north, and another more open one towards the south. Finally, mid-way on the west coast, at the northern extremity of the Gulf of Oristano, the Phœnicians occupied a small promontory which projects into the sea southwards and there formed a settlement which became known as Tharras or Tharros.[137] Very extensive remains, quite unmistakably Phœnician, including tombs, cippi, statuettes in metal and clay, weapons, and the like, have been found on the site.[138]

The passage would have been easy from Sardinia to Corsica, which is not more than seven miles distant from it; but Corsica seems to have possessed no attraction for the Phœnicians proper, who were perhaps deterred from colonising it by its unhealthiness, or by the savagery of its inhabitants. Or they may have feared to provoke the jealousy of the Tyrrhenians, off whose coast the island lay, and who, without having any colonising spirit themselves, disliked the too near approach of rivals.[139] At any rate, whatever the cause, it seems to have been left to the Carthaginians, to bring Corsica within the range of Phœnician influence; and even the Carthaginians did little more than hold a few points on its shores as stations for their ships.[140]

If from Sardinia the Phœnicians ventured on an exploring voyage westward into the open Mediterranean, a day’s sail would bring them within sight of the eastern Balearic Islands, Minorca and Majorca. The sierra of Majorca rises to the height of between 3,000 and 4,000 feet,[141] and can be seen from a great distance. The occupation of the islands by “the Phœnicians” is asserted by Strabo,[142] but we cannot be sure that he does not mean Phœnicians of Africa, i.e. Carthaginians. Still, on the whole, modern criticism inclines to the belief that, even before the foundation of Carthage, Phœnician colonisation had made its way into the Balearic Islands, directly, from the Syrian coast.[143] Some resting-places between the middle Mediterranean and Southern Spain must have been a necessity; and as the North African coast west of Hippo offered no good harbours, it was necessary to seek them elsewhere. Now Minorca has in Port Mahon a harbour of almost unsurpassed excellence,[144] while in Majorca there are fairly good ports both at Palma and at Aleudia.[145] Ivica is less well provided, but there is one of some size, known as Pormany (i.e. “Porta magna”), on the western side of the island, and another, much frequented by fishing-boats,[146] on the south coast near Ibiza. The productions of the Balearides were not, perhaps, in the early times of much importance, since the islands are not, like Sardinia, rich in metals, nor were the inhabitants sufficiently civilised to furnish food supplies or native manufactures in any quantity. If, then, the Phœnicians held them, it must have been altogether for the sake of their harbours.

The colonies of the Mediterranean have now been, all of them, noticed, excepting those which lay upon the south coast of Spain. Of these the most important were Malaca (now Malaga), Sex or Sexti, and Abdera (now Adra). Malaca is said by Strabo to have been “Phœnician in its plan,”[147] Abdera is expressly declared by him to have been “a Phœnician settlement,”[148] while Sexti has coins which connect it with early Phœnician legends.[149] The mountain range above Malaca was anciently rich in gold-mines;[150] Sexti was famous for its salt- pans;[151] Abdera lay in the neighbourhood of productive silver- mines.[152] These were afterwards worked from Carthagena, which was a late Carthaginian colony, founded by Asdrubal, the uncle of Hannibal. Malaga and Carthagena (i.e. New-Town) had well-sheltered harbours; but the ports of Sexti and Abdera were indifferent.

Outside the Straits of Gibraltar, on the shores of the Atlantic, were two further sets of Phœnician colonies, situated respectively in Africa and in Spain. The most important of those in Africa were Tingis (now Tangiers) and Lixus (now Chemmish), but besides these there were a vast number of staples ({emporia}) without names,[153] spread along the coast as far as Cape Non, opposite the Canary Islands. Tingis, a second Gibraltar, lay nearly opposite that wonderful rock, but a little west of the narrowest part of the strait. It had a temple of the Tyrian Hercules, said to have been older than that at Gades;[154] and its coins have Phœnician legends.[155] The town was situated on a promontory running out to the north-east at the extremity of a semicircular bay about four miles in width, and thus possessed a harbour not to be despised, especially on such a coast. The country around was at once beautiful and fertile, dotted over with palms, and well calculated for the growth of fruit and vegetables. The Atlas mountains rose in the background, with their picturesque summits, while in front were seen the blue Mediterranean, with its crisp waves merging into the wilder Atlantic, and further off the shores of Spain, lying like a blue film on the northern horizon.[156]

While Tingis lay at the junction of the two seas, on the northern African coast, about five miles east of Cape Spartel, Lixus was situated on the open Atlantic, forty miles to the south of that cape, on the West African coast, looking westward towards the ocean. The streams from Atlas here collect into a considerable river, known now as the Wady-el-Khous, and anciently as the Lixus.[157] The estuary of this river, before reaching the sea, meanders through the plain of Sidi Oueddar, from time to time returning upon itself, and forming peninsulas, which are literally almost islands.[158] From this plain, between two of the great bends made by the stream, rose in one place a rocky hill; and here the Phœnicians built their town, protecting it along the brow of the hill with a strong wall, portions of which still remain in place.[159] The blocks are squared, carefully dressed, and arranged in horizontal courses, without any cement. Some of them are as much as eleven feet long by six feet or somewhat more in height. The wall was flanked at the corners by square towers, and formed a sort of irregular hexagon, above a mile in circumference.[160] A large building within the walls seems to have been a temple;[161] and in it was found one of those remarkable conical stones which are known to have been employed in the Phœnician worship. The estuary of the river formed a tolerably safe harbour for the Phœnician ships, and the valley down which the river flows gave a ready access into the interior.

In Spain, outside the Pillars of Hercules, the chief Phœnician settlements were Tartessus, Agadir or Gades, and Belon. Tartessus has been regarded by some as properly the name of a country rather than a town;[162] but the statements of the Greek and Roman geographers to the contrary are too positive to be disregarded. Tartessus was a town in the opinions of Scymnus Chius, Strabo, Mela, Pliny, Festus Avienus, and Pausanias,[163] who could not be, all of them, mistaken on such a point. It was a town named from, or at any rate bearing the same name with, an important river of southern Spain,[164] probably the Guadalquivir. It was not Gades, for Scymnus Chius mentions both cities as existing in his day;[165] it was not Carteia, for it lay west of Gades, while Carteia lay east. Probably it occupied, as Strabo thought, a small island between two arms of the Guadalquivir, and gradually decayed as Gades rose to importance. It certainly did not exist in Strabo’s time, but five or six centuries earlier it was a most flourishing place.[166] If it is the Tarshish of Scripture, its prosperity and importance must have been even anterior to the time of Solomon, whose “navy of Tarshish” brought him once in every three years “gold, and silver, and ivory, and apes, and peacocks.”[167] The south of Spain was rich in metallic treasures, and yielded gold, silver, copper, iron, lead, and tin;[168] trade along the west coast of Africa would bring in the ivory and apes abundant in that region; while the birds called in our translation of the Bible “peacocks” may have been guinea-fowl. The country on either side of the Guadalquivir to a considerable distance took its name from the city, being called Tartessis.[169] It was immensely productive. “The wide plains through which the Guadalquiver flows produced the finest wheat, yielding an increase of a hundredfold; the oil and the wine, the growth of the hills, were equally distinguished for their excellence. The wood was not less remarkable for its fineness than in modern times, and had a native colour beautiful without dye.”[170] Nor were the neighbouring sea and stream less bountiful. The tunny was caught in large quantities off the coast, shell-fish were abundant and of unusual size,[171] while huge eels were sometimes taken by the fishermen, which, when salted, formed an article of commerce, and were reckoned a delicacy at Athenian tables.[172]

Gades is said to have been founded by colonists from Tyre a few years anterior to the foundation of Utica by the same people.[173] Utica, as we have seen, dated from the twelfth century before Christ. The site of Gades combined all the advantages that the Phœnicians desired for their colonies. Near the mouth of the Guadalete there detaches itself from the coast of Spain an island eleven miles in length, known now as the “Isla de Leon,” which is separated from the mainland for half its length by a narrow but navigable channel, while to this there succeeds on the north an ample bay, divided into two portions, a northern and a southern.[174] The southern, or interior recess, is completely sheltered from all winds; the northern lies open to the west, but is so full of creeks, coves, and estuaries as to offer a succession of fairly good ports, one or other of which would always be accessible. The southern half of the island is from one to four miles broad; but the northern consists of a long spit of land running out to the north- west, in places not more than a furlong in width, but expanding at its northern extremity to a breadth of nearly two miles. The long isthmus, and the peninsula in which it ends, have been compared to the stalk and blossom of a flower.[175] The flower was the ancient Gades, the modern Cadiz. The Phœnician occupation of the site is witnessed to by Strabo, Diodorus, Scymnus Chius, Mela, Pliny, Velleius Paterculus, Ælian and Arrian,[176] and is further evidenced by the numerous coins which bear the legend of “Agadir” in Phœnician characters.[177] But the place itself retains no traces of the Phœnician occupation. The famous temple of Melkarth, with its two bronze pillars in front bearing inscriptions, has wholly perished, as have all other vestiges of the ancient buildings. This is the result of the continuous occupation of the site, which has been built on successively by Phœnicians, Carthaginians, Romans, Vandals, Moors, and Spaniards. The space is somewhat confined, and the houses in ancient times were, we are told, closely crowded together,[178] as they were at Aradus and Tyre. But the advantages of the harbour and the productiveness of the vicinity more than made up for this inconvenience. Gades may have been, as Cadiz is now said to be, “a mere silver plate set down upon the edge of the sea,”[179] but it was the natural centre of an enormous traffic. It had easy access by the valley of a large stream to the interior with its rich mineral and vegetable products; it had the command of two seas, the Atlantic and the Mediterranean; it trained its sailors to affront greater perils than any which the Mediterranean offers; and it enjoyed naturally by its position an almost exclusive commerce with the Northern Atlantic, with the western coasts of Spain and Gaul, with Britain, North Germany, and the Baltic.

Compared with Gades and Tartessus, Belon was an insignificant settlement. Its name[180] and coins[181] mark it as Phœnician, but it was not possessed of any special advantages of situation. The modern Bolonia, a little south of Cadiz, is thought to mark the site.[182]

We have reached now the limits of Phœnician colonisation towards the West. While their trade was carried, especially from Gades, into Luisitania and Gallæcia on the one hand, and into North-western Africa on the other, reaching onward past these districts to Gaul and Britain, to the Senegal and Gambia, possibly to the Baltic and the Fortunate Islands, the range of their settlements was more circumscribed. As, towards the north-east, though their trade embraced the regions of Colchis and Thrace, of the Tauric Chersonese, and Southern Scythia, their settlements were limited to the Ægean and perhaps the Propontis, so westward they seem to have contented themselves with occupying a few points of vantage on the Spanish and West African coasts, at no great distance from the Straits, and from these stations to have sent out their commercial navies to sweep the seas and gather in the products of the lands which lay at a greater distance. The actual extent of their trade will be considered in a later chapter. We have been here concerned only with their permanent settlements or colonies. These, it has been seen, extended from the Syrian coast to Cyprus, Cilicia, Rhodes, Crete, the islands and shores of the Ægean and Propontis, the coasts of Sicily, Sardinia, and North Africa, the Balearic Islands, Southern Spain, and North-western Africa as far south as Cape Non. The colonisation was not so continuous as the Greek, nor was it so extensive in one direction,[183] but on the whole it was wider, and it was far bolder and more adventurous. The Greeks, as a general rule, made their advances by slow degrees, stealing on from point to point, and having always friendly cities near at hand, like an army that rests on its supports. The Phœnicians left long intervals of space between one settlement and another, boldly planted them on barbarous shores, where they had nothing to rely on but themselves, and carried them into regions where the natives were in a state of almost savagery. The commercial motive was predominant with them, and gave them the courage to plunge into wild seas and venture themselves among even wilder men. With the Greeks the motive was generally political, and a safe home was sought, where social and civil life might have free scope for quiet development.

CHAPTER VI

ARCHITECTURE

Origin of the architecture in rock dwellings–Second style, a combination of the native rock with the ordinary wall–Later on, the use of the native rock, discarded–Employment of huge blocks of stone in the early walls–Absence of cement–Bevelling– Occurrence of Cyclopian walls–Several architectural members comprised in one block–Phœnician shrines–The Maabed and other shrines at Amrith–Phœnician temples–Temple of Paphos–Adjuncts to temples–Museum of Golgi–Treasure chambers of Curium–Walls of Phœnician towns–Phœnician tombs–Excavated chambers–Chambers built of masonry–Groups of chambers–Colonnaded tomb–Sepulchral monuments–The Burdj-el-Bezzâk–The Kabr Hiram–The two Méghâzil– Tomb with protected entrance–Phœnician ornamentation–Pillars and their capitals–Cornices and mouldings–Pavements in mosaic and alabaster–False arches–Summary.

The architecture of the Phœnicians began with the fashioning of the native rock–so abundant in all parts of the country where they had settled themselves–into dwellings, temples, and tombs. The calcareous limestone, which is the chief geological formation along the Syrian coast, is worked with great ease; and it contains numerous fissures and caverns,[1] which a very moderate amount of labour and skill is capable of converting into fairly comfortable dwelling-places. It is probable that the first settlers found a refuge for a time in these natural grottos, which after a while they proceeded to improve and enlarge, thus obtaining a practical power of dealing with the material, and an experimental knowledge of its advantages and defects. But it was not long before these simple dwellings ceased to content them, and they were seized with an ambition to construct more elaborate edifices–edifices such as they must have seen in the lands through which they had passed on their way from the shores of the Persian Gulf to the seaboard of the Mediterranean. They could not at once, however, divest themselves of their acquired habits, and consequently, their earliest buildings continued to have, in part, the character of rock dwellings, while in part they were constructions of the more ordinary and regular type. The remains of a dwelling-house at Amrith,[2] the ancient Marathus, offer a remarkable example of this intermixture of styles. The rock has been cut away so as to leave standing two parallel walls 33 yards long, 19 feet high, and 2 1/2 feet thick, which are united by transverse party-walls formed in the same way.[3] Windows and doorways are cut in the walls, some square at top, some arched. At the two ends the main walls were united partly by the native rock, partly by masonry. The northern wall was built of masonry from the very foundation, the southern consisted for a portion of its height of the native rock, while above that were several courses of stones carrying it up further. At Aradus and at Sidon, similarly, the town walls are formed in many places of native rock, squared and smoothed, up to a certain height, after which courses of stone succeed each other in the ordinary fashion. It is as if the Phœnician builders could not break themselves of an inveterate habit, and rather than disuse it entirely submitted to an intermixture which was not without a certain amount of awkwardness.

Another striking example of the mixed system is found at a little distance from Amrith, in the case of a building which appears to have been a shrine, tabernacle, or sanctuary. The site is a rocky platform, about a mile from the shore. Here the rock has been cut away to a depth varying from three to six yards, and a rectangular court has been formed, 180 feet long by 156 feet wide, in the centre of which has been left a single block of the stone, still of one piece with the court, which rises to a height of ten feet, and forms the basis or pedestal of the shrine itself.[4] The shrine is built of a certain number of large blocks, which have been quarried and brought to the spot; it has a stone roof with an entablature, and attains an elevation above the court of not less than twenty-seven feet. The dimensions of the shrine are small, not much exceeding seventeen feet each way.[5]

From constructions of this mixed character the transition was easy to buildings composed entirely of detached stones put together in the ordinary manner. Here, what is chiefly remarkable in the Phœnician architecture is the tendency to employ, especially for the foundations and lower courses of buildings, enormous blocks. When the immovable native rock is no longer available, the resource is to make use of vast masses of stone, as nearly immovable as possible. The most noted example is that of the substructions which supported the platform whereon stood the Temple of Jerusalem, which was the work of the Phœnician builders whom Hiram lent to Solomon.[6] These substructions, laid bare at their base by the excavations of the Palestine Exploration Fund, are found to consist of blocks measuring from fifteen to twenty-five feet in length, and from ten to twelve feet in height. The width of the blocks at the angles of the wall, where alone it can be measured, is from twelve to eighteen feet. At the south-west angle no fewer than thirty-one courses of this massive character have been counted by the recent explorers, who estimate the weight of the largest block at something above a hundred tons![7]

A similar method of construction is found to have prevailed at Tyre, at Sidon, at Aradus, at Byblus, at Leptis Major, at Eryx, at Motya, at Gaulos, and at Lixus on the West African coast. The blocks employed do not reach the size of the largest discovered at Jerusalem, but still are of dimensions greatly exceeding those of most builders, varying, as they do, from six feet to twenty feet in length, and being often as much as seven or eight feet in breadth and height. As the building rises, the stones diminish in size, and the upper courses are often in no way remarkable. Stones of various sizes are used, and often the courses are not regular, but one runs into another. A tower in the wall of Eryx is a good specimen of this kind of construction.[8]

Where the stones are small, mortar has been employed by the builders, but where they are of a large size, they are merely laid side by side in rows or courses, without mortar or cement of any kind, and remain in place through their own mass and weight. In the earliest style of building the blocks are simply squared,[9] and the wall composed of them presents a flat and level surface, or one only broken by small and casual irregularities; but, when their ideas became more advanced, the Phœnicians preferred that style of masonry which is commonly regarded as peculiarly, if not exclusively, theirs[10]–the employment of large blocks with deeply bevelled edges. The bevel is a depression round the entire side of the stone, which faces outwards, and may be effected either by a sloping cut which removes the right-angle from the edge, or by two cuts, one perpendicular and the other horizontal, which take out from the edge a rectangular bar or plinth. The Phœnician bevelling is of this latter kind, and is generally accompanied by an artificial roughening of the surface inside the bevel, which offers a strong contrast to the smooth and even surface of the bevel itself.[11] The style is highly ornamental and effective, particularly where a large space of wall has to be presented to the eye, unbroken by door or window.[12]

Occasionally, but very rarely, and only (so far as appears) in their remoter dependencies, the Phœnicians constructed their buildings in the rude and irregular way, which has been called Cyclopian, employing unhewn polygonal blocks of various sizes, and fitting them roughly together. The temples discovered in Malta and Gozzo have masonry of this description.[13]

A peculiarity in Phœnician architecture, connected with the preference for enormous blocks over stones of a moderate size, is the frequent combination in a single mass of distinct architectural members; for instance, of the shaft and capital of pillars, of entire pediments with a portion of the wall below them, and of the walls of monuments with the cornice and architrave. M. Renan has made some strong remarks on this idiosyncrasy. “In the Grecian style,” he says, “the beauty of the wall is a main object with the architect, and the wall derives its beauty from the divisions between the stones, which observe symmetrical laws, and are in agreement with the general lines of the edifice. In a style of this kind the stones of a wall have, all of them, the same dimension, and this dimension is determined by the general plan of the building; or else, as in the kind of work which is called ‘pseud-isodomic,’ the very irregularity of the courses is governed by a law of symmetry. The stones of the architrave, the metopes, the triglyphs, are, all of them, separate blocks, even when it would have been perfectly easy to have included in a single block all these various members. Such facts, as one observes frequently in Syria, where three or four architectural members are brought out from a single block, would have appeared to the Greeks monstrous, since they are the negation of all logic.”[14]

In cannot be denied that the habit of preferring large to small blocks, even in monuments of a very moderate size, involved the Phœnician architects in awkwardnesses and anomalies, which offend a cultivated taste; but it should be remembered, on the other hand, that massiveness in the material conduces greatly to stability, and that, in lands where earthquakes are frequent, as they are along all the Mediterranean shores, not many monuments would have survived the lapse of three thousand years had the material employed been of a less substantial and solid character.

Among the Phœnician constructions, of which it is possible to give some account at the present day, without drawing greatly on the imagination, are their shrines, their temples, the walls of their towns, and, above all, their tombs. Recent researches in Phœnicia Proper, in Cyprus, Sicily, Africa, and the smaller Mediterranean islands, have brought to light numerous remains previously unknown; the few previously known remains have been carefully examined, measured, and in some cases photographed; and the results have been made accessible to the student in numerous well-illustrated publications. When Movers and Kenrick published their valuable works on the history of Phœnicia, and the general characteristics of the Phœnician people, it was quite impossible to do more than form conjectures concerning their architecture from a few coins, and a few descriptions in ancient writers. It is now a matter of comparatively little difficulty to set before the public descriptions and representations which, if they still leave something to be desired in the way of completeness, are accurate, so far as they go, and will give a tolerably fair idea of the architectural genius of the people.

One very complete and two ruined shrines have been found in Phœnicia Proper, in positions and of a character which, in the judgment of the best antiquaries, mark them as the work of the ancient people. All these are situated on the mainland, near the site of Marathus, which lay nearly opposite the island of Ruad, the ancient Aradus. The shrine which is complete, or almost complete, bears the name of “the Maabed” or “Temple.” Its central position, in the middle of an excavated court, and its mixed construction, partly of native rock and partly of quarried stone, have been already described. It remains to give an account of the shrine or tabernacle itself.[15] This is emplaced upon the mass of rock left to receive it midway in the court, and is a sort of cell, closed in on three sides by walls, and open on one side, towards the north. The cell is formed of four quarried blocks, which are laid one over the other. These are nearly of the same size, and similarly shaped, each of them enclosing the cell on three sides, towards the east, the south, and the west. The fourth, which is larger than any of the others, constitutes the roof. It is a massive stone, carefully cut, which projects considerably in front of the rest of the building, and is ornamented towards the top with a cornice and string- course, extending along the four sides.[16] Internally the roof is scooped into a sort of shallow vault. The height of the shrine proper is about seventeen feet, and the elevation of the entire structure above the court in which it stands appears to be about twenty-seven feet. M. Renan conjectures that the projecting portion of the roof had originally the support of two pillars, which may have been either of wood, of stone, or of metal, and notes that there are two holes in the basement stone, into which the bottoms of the pillars were probably inserted.[17] He imagines that the court was once enclosed completely by the construction of a wall at its northern end, and that the water from a spring, which still rises within the enclosure, was allowed to overflow the entire space, so that the shrine looked down upon a basin or shallow lake and glassed itself in the waters.[18] An image of a deity may have stood in the cell under the roof, dimly visible to the worshipper between the two porch pillars.

The two ruined tabernacles lie at no great distance from the complete one, which has just been described. One of them is so injured that its plan is irrecoverable; but M. Renan carefully collected and measured the fragments of the other, and thus obtained sufficient data for its restoration.[19] It was, he believes, a monolithic chamber, with a roof slightly vaulted, like that of the /Maabed/, having a length of eight feet, a breadth of five, and a height of about ten feet, and ornamented externally with a very peculiar cornice. This consisted of a series of carvings, representing the fore part of an uræus or basilisk serpent, uprearing itself against the wall of the shrine, which were continued along the entire front of the chamber. There was also an internal ornamentation of the roof, consisting of a winged circle of an Egyptian character–a favourite subject with the Phœnician artists[20]–the circle having an uræus erect on either side of it, and also of another winged figure which appeared to represent an eagle.[21] The monolithic chamber was emplaced upon a block of stone, ten feet in length and breadth, and six feet in height, which itself stood upon a much smaller stone, and overhung it on all sides. A flight of six steps, cut in the upper block at either side, gave access to the chamber, which, however, as it stood in a pool of water, must have been approached by a boat. The entire height of the shrine above the water must have been about eighteen feet.

Some other ruined shrines have been found in the more distant of the Phœnician settlements, and representations of them are common upon the /stelæ/, set up in temples as votive offerings. On these last the uræus cornice is frequently repeated, and the figure of a goddess sometimes appears, standing between the pillars which support the front of the shrine.[22] There is a decided resemblance between the Phœnician shrines and the small Egyptian temples, which have been called /mammeisi/, the chief difference being that the latter are for the most part peristylar.[23] M. Renan says of the /Maabed/, or main shrine at Amrith:–“L’aspect général de l’édifice est Egyptian, mais avec une certaine part d’originalité. Le bandeau et la corniche sur les quatre côtés de la stalle supériere en sont le seul ornement. Cette simplicité, cette sévérité de style, jointes à l’idée de force et de puissance qu’éveillent les dimensions énormes des matériaux employés, sont des caractères que nous avons déjà signalés dans les monumens funéraires d’Amrith.”[24]

From the shrines of the Phœnicians we may now pass to their temples, of which, however, the remains are, unfortunately, exceedingly scanty. Of real temples, as distinct from shrines, Phœnicia Proper does not present to us so much as a single specimen. To obtain any idea of them, we must quit the mother country, and betake ourselves to the colonies, especially to those island colonies which have been less subjected than the mainland to the destructive ravages of barbarous conquerors, and the iconoclasm of fanatical populations. It is especially in Cyprus that we meet with extensive remains, which, if not so instructive as might have been wished, yet give us some important and interesting information.

The temple of Paphos, according to the measurements of General Di Cesnola,[25] was a rectangular building, 221 feet long by 167 feet wide, built along its lower corners of large blocks of stone, but probably continued above in an inferior material, either wood or unbaked brick.[26] The four corner-stones are still standing in their proper places, and give the dimensions without a possibility of mistake. Nothing is known of the internal arrangements, unless we attach credit to the views of the savant Gerhard, who, in the early years of the present century, constructed a plan from the reports of travellers, in which he divided the building into a nave and two aisles, with an ante-chapel in front, and a sacrarium at the further extremity.[27] M. Gerhard also added, beyond the sacrarium, an apse, of which General Di Cesnola found no traces, but which may possibly have disappeared in the course of the sixty years which separated the observations of M. Gerhard’s informants from the researches of the later traveller. The arrangement into a nave and two aisles is, to a certain extent, confirmed by some of the later Cyprian coins, which certainly represent Cyprian temples, and probably the temple of Paphos.[28] The floor of the temple was, in part at any rate, covered with mosaic.[29]

This large building, which extended over an area of 36,800 square feet, was emplaced within a sacred court, surrounded by a /peribolus/, or wall of enclosure, built of even larger blocks than the temple itself, and entered by at least one huge doorway. The width of this entrance, situated near a corner of the western wall, was nearly eighteen feet.[30] On one side of it were found still fixed in the wall the sockets for the bolts on which the door swung, in length six inches, and of proportionate width and depth. The peribolus was rectangular, like the temple, and was built in lines parallel to it. The longer sides measured 690 and the shorter 530 feet. One block, which was of blue granite and must have come either from Asia Minor or from Egypt, measured fifteen feet ten inches in length, with a width of seven feet eleven inches, and a depth of two feet five inches.[31] It is thought that the court was probably surrounded by a colonnade or cloister,[32] though no traces have been at present observed either of the pillars which must have supported such a cloister or of the rafters which must have formed its roof. Ponds,[33] fountains, shrubberies, gardens, groves of trees, probably covered the open space between the cloister and the temple, while well-shaded walks led across it from the gates of the enclosure to those of the sanctuary.

If we allow ourselves to indulge our fancy for a brief space, and to complete the temple according to the idea which the coins above represented naturally suggest, we may suppose that it did, in fact, consist of a nave, two aisles, and a cell, or “holy of holies,” the nave being of superior height to the aisles, and rising in front into a handsome façade, like the western end of a cathedral flanked by towers. Through the open doorway between the towers might be seen dimly the sacred cone or pillar which was emblematic of deity; on either side the eye caught the ends of the aisles, not more than half the height of the towers, and each crowned with a strongly projecting cornice, perhaps ornamented with a row of uræi. In front of the two aisles, standing by themselves, were twin columns, like Jachin and Boaz before the Temple of Solomon. The aisles were certainly roofed: whether the nave also was covered in, or whether, like the Greek hypæthral temples, it lay open to the blue vault of heaven, is perhaps doubtful. The walls of the buildings, after a few courses of hewn stone, were probably of wood, perhaps of cedar, enriched with the precious metals, and the pavement was adorned with a mosaic of many colours, “white, yellow, red, brown, and rose.”[34] Outside the temple was a mass of verdure. “In the sacred precinct, and in its dependencies, all breathed of voluptuousness, all spoke to the senses. The air of the place was full of perfumes, full of soft and caressing sounds. There was the murmur of rills which flowed over a carpet of flowers; there was, in the foliage above, the song of the nightingale, and the prolonged and tender cooing of the dove; there were, in the groves around, the tones of the flute, the instrument which sounds the call to pleasure, and summons to the banquet chamber the festive procession and the bridal train. Beneath the shelter of tents, or of light booths with walls formed by the skilful interlacing of a green mass of boughs, through which the myrtle and the laurel spread their odours, dwelt the fair slaves of the goddess, those whom Pindar called, in the drinking-song which he composed for Theoxenus of Corinth, ‘the handmaids of persuasion.'”[35] Here and there in the precincts, sacred processions took their prescribed way; ablutions were performed; victims led up to the temple; votive offerings hung on the trees; festal dances, it may be, performed; while in the cloister which skirted the peribolus, dealers in shrines and images chaffered with their customers, erotic poets sang their lays, lovers whispered, fortune-tellers plied their trade, and a throng of pilgrims walked lazily along, or sat on the ground, breathing in the soft, moist air, feasting their eyes upon the beauty of upspringing fountain and flowering shrub, and lofty tree, while their ears drank in the cadences of the falling waters, the song of the birds, and the gay music which floated lightly on the summer breeze.

Phœnician temples had sometimes adjuncts, as cathedrals have their chapter-houses and muniment rooms, which were at once interesting and important. There has been discovered at Athiénau in Cyprus–the supposed site of Golgi–a ruined edifice, which some have taken for a temple,[36] but which appears to have been rather a repository for votive offerings, a sort of ecclesiastical museum. A picture of the edifice, as he conceives it to have stood in its original condition, has been drawn by one of its earliest visitants. “The building,” he says,[37] “was constructed of sun-dried bricks, forming four walls, the base of which rested upon a substruction of solid stone-work. The walls were covered, as are the houses of the Cypriot peasants of to-day, with a stucco which was either white or coloured, and which was impenetrable by rain. Wooden pillars with stone capitals supported internally a pointed roof, which sloped at a low angle. It formed thus a sort of terrace, like the roofs that we see in Cyprus at the present day. This roof was composed of a number of wooden rafters placed very near each other, above which was spread a layer of rushes and coarse mats, covered with a thick bed of earth well pressed together, equally effective against the entrance of moisture and against the sun’s rays. Externally the building must have presented a very simple appearance. In the interior, which received no light except from the wide doorways in the walls, an immovable and silent crowd of figures in stone, with features and garments made more striking by the employment of paint, surrounded, as with a perpetual worship, the mystic cone. Stone lamps, shaped like diminutive temples, illumined in the corners the grinning /ex-votos/ which hung upon the walls, and the curious pictures with which they were accompanied. Grotesque bas-reliefs adorned the circuit of the edifice, where the slanting light was reflected from the white and polished pavement-stones.”[38] In length and breadth the chamber measured sixty feet by thirty; the thickness of the basement wall was three feet.[39] Midway between the side walls stood three rows of large square pedestals–regularly spaced, and dividing the interior into four vistas or avenues, which some critics regard as bases for statues, and some as supports for the pillars which sustained the roof.[40] Two stone capitals of pillars were found within the area of the chamber; and it is conjectured that the entire disappearance of the shafts may be accounted for by their having been of wood,[41] the employment of wooden shafts with stone bases and capitals being common in Cyprus at the present time.[42] Against each of the four walls was a row of pedestals touching each other, which had certainly been bases for statues, since the statues were found lying, mostly broken, in front of them. The figures varied greatly in size, some being colossal, others mere statuettes. Most probably all were votive offerings, presented by those who imagined that they had been helped by the god of the temple to which the chamber belonged, as an indication of their gratitude. The number of pedestals found along one of the walls was seventy-two,[43] and the original number must have been at least three times as great.

Another Cyprian temple, situated at Curium, not far from Paphos, contained a very remarkable crypt, which appears to have been used as a treasure-house.[44] It was entered by means of a flight of steps which conducted to a low and narrow passage cut in the rock, and giving access to a set of three similar semi-circular chambers, excavated side by side, and separated one from another by doors. Beyond the third of these, and at right angles to it, was a fourth somewhat smaller chamber, which gave upon a second passage that it was found impossible to explore.[45] The three principal chambers were fourteen feet six inches in height, twenty-three feet long, and twenty-one feet broad. The fourth was a little smaller,[46] and shaped somewhat irregularly. All contained plate and jewels of extraordinary richness, and often of rare workmanship. “The treasure found,” says M. Perrot, “surpassed all expectation, and even all hope. Never had such a discovery been made of such a collection of precious articles, where the material was of the richest, and the specimens of different styles most curious. There were many bracelets of massive gold, and among them two which weighed a pound apiece, and several others of a weight not much short of this. Gold was met with in profusion under all manner of forms–finger-rings, ear-rings, amulets, flasks, small bottles, hair-pins, heavy necklaces. Silver was found in even greater abundance, both in ornaments and in vessels; besides which there were articles in electrum, which is an amalgam of silver with gold. Among the stones met with were rock-crystals, carnelians, onyxes, agates, and other hard stones of every variety; and further there were paste jewels, cylinders in soft stone, statuettes in burnt clay, earthen vases, and also many objects in bronze, as lamps, tripods, candelabra, chairs, vases, arms, &c. &c. A certain amount of order reigned in the repository. The precious objects in gold were collected together principally in the first chamber. The second contained the silver vessels, which were arranged along a sort of shelf cut in the rock, at the height of about eight inches above the floor. Unfortunately the oxydation of these vessels had proceeded to such lengths, that only a very small number could be extracted from the mass, which for the most part crumbled into dust at the touch of a finger. The third chamber held lamps and fibulæ in bronze, vases in alabaster, and, above all, the groups and vessels modelled in clay; while the fourth was the repository of the utensils in bronze, and of a certain number which were either in copper or in iron. In the further passage, which was not completely explored, there were nevertheless found seven kettles in bronze.”[47]

In the construction of the walls of their towns, especially of those which were the most ancient, the feature which is most striking at first sight is that on which some remarks have already been made, the attachment of the lower portion of the wall to the soil from which the wall springs. At Sidon, at Aradus, and at Semar-Gebeil, the /enceinte/ which protected the town consisted, up to the height of ten or twelve feet, of native rock, cut to a perpendicular face, upon which were emplaced several courses of hewn stone. The principle adopted was to utilise the rock as far as possible, and then to supplement what was wanting by a superstructure of masonry. Large blocks of stone, shaped to fit the upper surface of the rock, were laid upon it, generally endways, that is, with their smallest surface outwards, their length forming the thickness of the wall, which was sometimes as much as fifteen or twenty feet.[48] The massive blocks, once placed, were almost immovable, and it was considered enough to lay them side by side, without clamps or mortar, since their own weight kept them in place. It was not thought of much consequence whether the joints of the courses coincided or not; though care was taken that, if a coincidence occurred in two courses, it should not be repeated in the third.[49] The elevation of walls does not seem to have often exceeded from thirty to forty feet, though Diodorus makes the walls of Carthage sixty feet high,[50] and Arrian gives to the wall of Tyre which faced the continent the extraordinary height of a hundred and fifty feet.[51]

If we may generalise from the most perfect specimens of Phœnician town-walls that are still fairly traceable, as those of Eryx and Lixus,[52] we may lay it down, that such walls were usually flanked, at irregular intervals, by square or rectangular towers, which projected considerably beyond the line of the curtain. The towers were of a more massive construction than the wall itself, especially in the lower portion, where vast blocks were common. The wall was also broken at intervals by gates, some of which were posterns, either arched or covered in by flat stones,[53] while others were of larger dimensions, and were protected, on one side or on both, by bastions. The sites of towns were commonly eminences, and the line of the walls followed the irregularities of the ground, crowning the slopes where they were steepest. Sometimes, as at Carthage and Thapsus, where the wall had to be carried across a flat space, the wall of defence was doubled, or even tripled. The restorations of Daux[54] contain, no doubt, a good deal that is fanciful; but they give, probably, a fair idea of the general character of the so-called “triple wall” of certain Phœnician cities. The outer line, or {proteikhisma}, was little more than an earthwork, consisting of a ditch, with the earth from it thrown up inwards, crowned perhaps at top with a breastwork of masonry. The second line was far more elaborate. There was first a ditch deeper than the outer one, while behind this rose a perpendicular battlemented wall to the height, from the bottom of the ditch, of nearly forty feet. In the thickness of the wall, which was not much less than the height, were chambers for magazines and cisterns, while along the top, behind the parapet, ran a platform, from which the defenders discharged their arrows and other missiles against the enemy. Further back, at the distance of about thirty yards, came the main line of defence, which in general character resembled the second, but was loftier and stronger. There was, first, a third ditch (or moat, if water could be introduced), and behind it a wall thirty-five feet thick and sixty feet high, pierced by two rows of embrasures from which arrows could be discharged, and having a triple platform for the defenders. This wall was kept entirely clear of the houses of the town, and the different storeys could be reached by sloping ascents or internal staircases. It was flanked at intervals by square towers, somewhat higher than the walls, which projected sufficiently for the defenders to enfilade the assailants when they approached the base of the curtain.

The tombs of the Phœnicians were, most usually, underground constructions, either simple excavations in the rock, or subterranean chambers, built of hewn stone, at the bottom of sloping passages, or perpendicular shafts, which gave access to them. The simpler kinds bear a close resemblance to the sepulchres of the Jews. A chamber is opened in the rock, in the sides of which are hollowed out, horizontally, a number of caverns or /loculi/, each one intended to receive a corpse.[55] If more space is needed, a passage is made from one of the sides of the chamber to a certain distance, and then a second chamber is excavated, and more /loculi/ are formed; and the process is repeated as often as necessary. But chambers thus excavated were apt to collapse, especially if the rock was of the soft and friable nature so common in Phœnicia Proper and in Cyprus; on which account, in such soils, the second kind of tomb was preferred, sepulchural chambers being solidly built,[56] either singly or in groups, each made to hold a certain number of sarcophagi. The most remarkable tombs of this class are those found at Amathus, on the south coast of Cyprus, by General Di Cesnola. They lie at the depth of from forty to fifty-five feet below the surface of the soil,[57] and are square chambers, built of huge stones, carefully squared, some of them twenty feet in length, nine in breadth, and three in thickness, and even averaging a length of fourteen feet.[58] Two shapes occur. Some of the tombs are almost perfect cubes, the upright walls rising to a height of twelve or fifteen feet, and being then covered in by three or four long slabs of stone. Others resemble huts, having a gable at either end, and a sloping roof formed of slabs which meet and support each other. A squared doorway, from five to six feet in height, gives entrance to the tombs at one end, and has for ornament a fourfold fillet, which surrounds it on three sides. Otherwise, ornamentation is absent, the stonework of both walls and roofs being absolutely plain and bare. Internally the chambers present the same naked appearance, walls and roofs being equally plain, and the floor paved with oblong slabs of stone, about a foot and a half in length.

The grouped chambers are of several kinds. Sometimes there are two chambers only, one opening directly into the other, and not always similarly roofed. Occasionally, groups of three are found, and there are examples of groups of four. In these instances, the exact symmetry is remarkable. A single doorway of the usual character gives entrance to a nearly square chamber, the exact dimensions of which are thirteen feet four inches by twelve feet two inches. Midway in the side and opposite walls are three other doorways, each of them three foot six inches in width, which lead into exactly similar square chambers, having a length of twelve feet two inches, and a width of ten feet nine.[59]

Chambers of the character here described contain in almost every instance stone sarcophagi. These are ranged along the walls, at a little distance from them. The chambers commonly contain two or three; but sometimes one sarcophagus is superimposed upon another, and in this way the number occasionally reaches to six.[60] Mostly, the sarcophagi are plain, or nearly so, but are covered over with a sloping lid. Sometimes, however, they are elaborately carved, and constitute works of art, which are of the highest value. An account will be given of the most remarkable of these objects in the chapter on Phœnician Æsthetic Art.

Another distinct type of Phœnician tomb is that which is peculiar to Nea-Paphos, and which is thought by some to have been employed exclusively by the High Priests of the great temple there.[61] The peculiarity of these burial-places is, that the sepulchral chambers are adjuncts of a quadrangular court open to the sky, and surrounded by a colonnade supported on pillars.[62] The court, the colonnade, the pillars, the entablature, and the chambers, with their niches for the dead, are all equally cut out of the rock, as well as the passage by which the court is entered, at one corner of the quadrangle. The columns are either square or rounded, the rounded ones having capitals resembling those of the Doric order; and the entablature is also a rough imitation of the Doric triglyphs, and guttæ. The entrances to the sepulchral chambers are under the colonnade, behind the pillars;[63] and the chambers contain, beside niches, a certain number of bases for sarcophagi, but no sarcophagi have been found in them. The quadrangle is of a small size, not more than about eighteen feet each way.

Thus far we have described that portion of the sepulchral architecture of the Phœnicians which is most hidden from sight, lying, as it does, beneath the surface of the soil. With tombs of this quiet character the Phœnicians were ordinarily contented. They were not, however, wholly devoid of those feelings with respect to their dead which have caused the erection, in most parts of the world, of sepulchral monuments intended to attract the eye, and to hand on to later ages the memory of the departed. Well acquainted with Egypt, they could not but have been aware from the earliest times of those massive piles which the vanity of Egyptian monarchs had raised up for their own glorification on the western side of the valley of the Nile; nor in later days could such monuments have escaped their notice as the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus[64] or the Tomb of the Maccabees.[65] Accordingly, we find them, at a very remote period, not merely anxious to inter their dead decently and carefully in rock tombs or subterranean chambers of massive stone, but also wishful upon occasions to attract attention to the last resting-places of their great men, by constructions which showed themselves above the ground, and had some architectural pretensions. One of these, situated near Amrith, the ancient Marathus, is a very curious and peculiar structure. It is known at the present day as the Burdj-el-Bezzâk,[66] and was evidently constructed to be, like the pyramids, at once a monument and a tomb. It is an edifice, built of large blocks of stone, and rising to a height of thirty-two feet above the plain at its base, so contrived as to contain two sepulchral chambers, the one over the other. Externally, the monument is plain almost to rudeness, being little more than a cubic mass, broken only by two doorways, and having for its sole ornament a projecting cornice in front. Internally, there is more art and contrivance. The chambers are very carefully constructed, and contain a number of niches intended to receive sarcophagi, the lower having accommodation for three and the upper for twelve bodies.[67] It is thought that originally the cubic mass, which is all that now remains, was surmounted by a pyramidical roof, many stones from which were found by M. Renan among the débris that were scattered around. The height of the monument was thus increased by perhaps one-half, and did not fall much short of sixty-five feet.[68] The cornice, which is now seen on one side only, and which is there imperfect, originally, no doubt, encircled the entire edifice.

The other constructions erected by the Phœnicians to mark the resting- places of their dead are simple monuments erected near, and generally over, the tombs in which the bodies are interred. The best known is probably that in the vicinity of Tyre, which the natives call the Kabr-Hiram, or “Tomb of Hiram.”[69] No great importance can be attached to this name, which appears to be a purely modern one;[70] but the monument is undoubtedly ancient, perhaps as ancient as any other in Phœnicia.[71] It is composed of eight courses of huge stones superimposed one upon another,[72] the blocks having in some cases a length of eleven or twelve feet, with a breadth of seven or eight, and a depth of three feet. The courses retreat slightly, with the exception of the fifth, which projects considerably beyond the line of the fourth and still more beyond that of the sixth. The whole effect is less that of a pyramid than of a stelé or pillar, the width at top being not very much smaller than that at the base. The monument is a solid mass, and is not a square but a rectangular oblong, the broader sides measuring fourteen feet and the narrower about eight feet six inches. Two out of the eight courses are of the nature of substructions, being supplemental to the rock, which supplies their place in part; and it is only recently that they have been brought to light by means of excavation. Hence the earlier travellers speak of the monument as having no more than six courses. The present height above the soil is a little short of twenty-five feet. A flight of steps cut in the rock leads down from the monument to a sepulchral chamber, which, however, contains neither sepulchral niche nor sarcophagus.

But the most striking of the Phœnician sepulchral monuments are to be found in the north of Phœnicia, and not in the south, in the neighbourhood, not of Tyre and Sidon, but of Marathus and Aradus. Two of them, known as the Méghâzil,[73] form a group which is very remarkable, and which, if we may trust the restoration of M. Thobois,[74] must have had considerable architectural merit. Situated very near each other, on the culminating point of a great plateau of rock, they dominate the country far and wide, and attract the eye from a long distance. One seems to have been in much simpler and better taste than the other. M. Renan calls it “a real masterpiece, in respect of proportion, of elegance, and of majesty.”[75] It is built altogether in three stages. First, there is a circular basement story flanked by four figures of lions, attached to the wall behind them, and only showing in front of it their heads, their shoulders, and their fore paws. This basement, which has a height of between seven and eight feet, is surmounted by a cylindrical tower in two stages, the lower stage measuring fourteen and the upper, which is domed, ten feet. The basement is composed of four great stones, the entire tower above it is one huge monolith. An unusual and very effective ornamentation crowns both stages of the tower, consisting of a series of gradines at top with square machicolations below.

The other monument of the pair, distant about twenty feet from the one already described, is architecturally far less happy. It is composed of four members, viz. a low plinth for base, above this a rectangular pedestal, surmounted by a strong band or cornice; next, a monolithic cylinder, without ornaments, which contracts slightly as it ascends; and, lastly, a pentagonal pyramid at the top. The pedestal is exceedingly rough and unfinished; generally, the workmanship is rude, and the different members do not assort well one with another. Still it would seem that the two monuments belong to the same age and are parts of the same plan.[76] Their lines are parallel, as are those of the subterranean apartments which they cover, and they stand within a single enclosure. Whether the same architect designed them both it is impossible to determine, but if so he must have been one of the class of artists who have sometimes happy and sometimes unhappy inspirations.

Both the Méghâzil are superimposed upon subterranean chambers, containing niches for bodies, and reached by a flight of steps cut in the rock, the entrance to which is at some little distance from the monuments.[77] But there is nothing at all striking or peculiar in the chambers, which are without ornament of any kind.

Another tomb, in the vicinity of the Méghâzil, is remarkable chiefly for the care taken to shelter and protect the entrance to the set of chambers which it covers.[78] The monument is a simple one. A square monolith, crowned by a strong cornice, stands upon a base consisting of two steps. Above the cornice is another monolith, the lower part squared and the upper shaped into a pyramid. The upper part of the pyramid has crumbled away, but enough remains to show the angle of the slope, and to indicate for the original erection a height of about twenty feet. At the distance of about ten yards from the base of the monument is a second erection, consisting of two tiers of large stones, which roof in the entrance to a flight of eighteen steps. These steps lead downwards to a sloping passage, in which are sepulchral niches, and thence into two chambers, the inner one of which is almost directly under the main monument. Probably, a block of stone, movable but removed with difficulty, originally closed the entrance at the point where the steps begin. This stone ordinarily prevented ingress, but when a fresh corpse was to be admitted, or funeral ceremonies were to be performed in one of the chambers, it could be “rolled”[79] or dragged away.

Phœnician architects were, as a general rule, exceedingly sparing in the use of ornament. Neither the pillar, nor the arch, much less the vault, was a feature in their principal buildings, which affected straight lines, right-angles, and a massive construction, based upon the Egyptian. The pillar came ultimately to be adopted, to a certain extent, from the Greeks; but only the simplest forms, the Doric and Ionic, were in use, if we except certain barbarous types which the people invented for themselves. The true arch was scarcely known in Phœnicia, at any rate till Roman times, though false arches were not infrequent in the gateways of towns and the doors of houses.[80] The external ornamentation of buildings was chiefly by cornices of various kinds, by basement mouldings, by carvings about doorways,[81] by hemispherical or pyramidical roofs, and by the use of bevelled stones in the walls. The employment of animal forms in external decoration was exceedingly rare; and the half lions of the circular Méghâzil of Amrith are almost unique.

In internal ornamentation there was greater variety. Pavements were sometimes of mosaic, and glowed with various colours;[82] sometimes they were of alabaster slabs elaborately patterned. Alabaster slabs also, it is probable, adorned the walls of temples and houses, excepting where woodwork was employed, as in the Temple of Solomon. There is much richness and beauty in many of the slabs now in the Phœnician collection of the Louvre,[83] especially in those which exhibit the forms of sphinxes or griffins. Many of the patterns most affected are markedly Assyrian in character, as the rosette, the palm- head, the intertwined ribbons, and the rows of gradines which occur so frequently. Even the Sphinxes are rather Assyrian than Egyptian in character; and exhibit the recurved wings, which are never found in the valley of the Nile. In almost all the forms employed there is a modification of the original type, sufficient to show that the Phœnician artist did not care merely to reproduce.

On the whole the architecture must be pronounced wanting in originality and in a refined taste. What M. Renan says of Phœnician art in general[84] is especially true of Phœnician architecture. “Phœnician art, which issued, as it would seem, originally from mere troglodytism, was, from the time when it arrived at the need of ornament, essentially an art of imitation. That art was, above all, industrial; that art never raised itself for its great public monuments to a style that was at once elegant and durable. The origin of Phœnician architecture was the excavated rock, not the column, as was the case with the Greeks. The wall replaced the excavated rock after a time, but without wholly losing its character. There is nothing that leads us to believe that the Phœnicians knew how to construct a keyed vault. The monolithic principle which dominated the Phœnician and Syrian art, even after it had taken Greek art for its model, is the exact contrary of the Hellenic style. Greek architecture starts from the principle of employing small stones, and proclaims the principal loudly. At no time did the Greeks extract from Pentelicus blocks at all comparable for size with those of Baalbek or of Egypt; they saw no use in doing so; on the contrary, with masses of such enormity, which it is desired to use in their entirety, the architect is himself dominated; the material, instead of being subordinate to the design of the edifice, runs counter to the design and contradicts it. The monuments on the Acropolis of Athens would be impossible with blocks of the size usual in Syria.”[85] Thus there is always something heavy, rude, and coarse in the Phœnician buildings, which betray their troglodyte origin by an over-massive and unfinished appearance.

There is also a want of originality, more especially in the ornamentation. Egypt, Assyria, and Greece have furnished the “motives” which lie at the root of almost all the decorative art that is to be met with, either in the mother country or in the colonies. Winged disks, uræi, scarabs, sphinxes, have been adopted from Egypt; Assyria has furnished gradines, lotus blossoms, rosettes, the palm-tree ornament, the ribbon ornament, and the form of the lion; Greece has supplied pillars, pediments, festoons, and chimæras. Native talent has contributed little or nothing to the ornamentation of buildings, if we except the modification of the types which have been derived from foreign sources.

Finally, there is a want of combination and general plan in the Phœnician constructions where they fall into groups. “This is sensibly felt,” according to M. Renan, “at Amrith, at Kabr-Hiram, and at Um-el- Awamid. In the remains still visible in these localities there are many fine ideas, many beautiful details; but they do not fall under any general dominant plan, as do the buildings on the Acropolis of Athens. One seems to see a set of people who are fond of working in stone for its own sake, but who do not care to arrive at a mutual understanding in order to produce in common a single work, since they do not know that it is the conception of a grand whole which constitutes greatness in art. Hence the incompleteness of the monuments; there is not a tomb to which the relations of the deceased have deemed it fitting to give the finishing touches; there is everywhere a certain egotism, like that which in later times prevented the Mussulman monuments from enduring. A passing pleasure in art does not induce men to finish, since finishing requires a certain stiffness of will. In general, the ancient Phœnicians appear to have had the spirit of sculptors rather than of architects. They did not construct in great masses, but every one laboured on his own account. Hence there was no exact measurement, and no symmetry. Even the capitals of the columns at Um-el-Awamid are not alike; in the portions which most evidently correspond the details are different.”[86]

CHAPTER VII

ÆSTHETIC ART

Recent discoveries of Phœnician artistic remains–Phœnician sculpture–Statues and busts–Animal forms–Bas-reliefs–Hercules and Geryon–Scenes on sarcophagi–Phœnicians metal castings– Jachin and Boaz–Solomon’s “Molten Sea”–Solomon’s lavers– Statuettes in bronze–Embossed work upon cups and pateræ–Cup of Præneste–Intaglios on cylinders and gems–Phœnician painting– Tinted statues–Paintings on terra-cotta and clay.

Phœnician æsthetic art embraced sculpture, metal-casting, intaglio, and painting to a small extent. Situated as the Phœnicians were, in the immediate neighbourhood of nations which had practised from a remote antiquity the imitation of natural forms, and brought into contact by their commercial transactions with others, with whom art of every kind was in the highest esteem–adroit moreover with their hands, clever, active, and above all else practical–it was scarcely possible that they should not, at an early period in their existence as a nation, interest themselves in what they found so widely appreciated, and become themselves ambitious of producing such works as they saw everywhere produced, admired, and valued. The mere commercial instinct would lead them to supply a class of goods which commanded a high price in the world’s markets; while it is not to be supposed that they were, any more than other nations, devoid of those æsthetic propensities which find a vent in what are commonly called the “fine arts,” or less susceptible of that natural pleasure which successful imitation evokes from all who find themselves capable of it. Thus, we might have always safely concluded, even without any material evidence of it, that the Phœnicians had an art of their own, either original or borrowed; but we are now able to do more than this. Recent researches in Phœnicia Proper, in Cyprus, in Sardina, and elsewhere, have recovered such a mass of Phœnician artistic remains, that it is possible to form a tolerably complete idea of the character of their æsthetic art, of its methods, its aims, and its value.

Phœnician sculpture, even at its best, is somewhat rude. The country possesses no marble, and has not even any stone of a fine grain. The cretaceous limestone, which is the principal geological formation, is for the most part so pierced with small holes and so thickly sown with fossil shells as to be quite unsuited for the chisel; and even the better blocks, which the native sculptors were careful to choose, are not free from these defects, and in no case offer a grain that is satisfactory. To meet these difficulties, the Phœnician sculptor occasionally imported his blocks either from Egypt or from the volcanic regions of Taurus and Amanus;[1] but it was not until he had transported himself to Cyprus, and found there an abundance of a soft, but fairly smooth, compact, and homogeneous limestone, that he worked freely, and produced either statues or bas-reliefs in any considerable number.[2] The Cyprian limestone is very easy to work. “It is a whitish stone when it comes out of the quarry, but by continued exposure to the air the tone becomes a greyish yellow, which, though a little dull, is not disagreeable to the eye. The nail can make an impression on it, and it is worked by the chisel much more easily and more rapidly than marble. But it is in the plastic arts as in literature and poetry–what costs but little trouble has small chance of enduring. The Cyprian limestone is too soft to furnish the effects and the contrasts which marble offers, so to speak, spontaneously; it is incapable of receiving the charming polish which makes so strong an opposition to the dark shadows of the parts where the chisel has scooped deep. The chisel, whatever efforts it may make and however laboriously it may be applied, cannot impress on such material the strong and bold touches which indicate the osseous structure, and make the muscles and the veins show themselves under the epidermis in Greek statuary. The sculptor’s work is apt to be at once finikin and lax; it wants breadth, and it wants decision. Moreover, the material, having little power of resistance, retains but ill what the chisel once