e stood, so that the companionship, sympathy, and
guardianship of Hermes became associated with most of the
manifestations of conjunct life at Athens, political, social,
commercial, or gymnastic. Moreover the quadrangular fashion of these
statues, employed occasionally for other gods besides Hermes, was a
most ancient relic handed down from the primitive rudeness of
Pelasgian workmanship; and was popular in Arcadia, as well as
peculiarly frequent in Athens.

About the end of May 415 B.C., in the course of one and the same
night, all these Hermae, one of the most peculiar marks of the city,
were mutilated by unknown hands. Their characteristic features were
knocked off or leveled, so that nothing was left except a mass of
stone with no resemblance to humanity or deity. All were thus dealt
with in the same way, save and except very few; nay, Andocides affirms
(and I incline to believe him) that there was but one which escaped
unharmed.

It is of course impossible for any one to sympathize fully with the
feelings of a religion not his own; indeed, the sentiment with which,
in the case of persons of different creed, each regards the strong
emotions growing out of causes peculiar to the other--is usually one
of surprize that such trifles and absurdities can occasion any serious
distress or excitement. But if we take that reasonable pains, which is
incumbent on those who study the history of Greece, to realize in our
minds the religious and political associations of the Athenians--noted
in ancient times for their superior piety, as well as for their
accuracy and magnificence about the visible monuments embodying that
feeling--we shall in part comprehend the intensity of mingled dismay,
terror, and wrath which beset the public mind on the morning after
this nocturnal sacrilege, alike unforeseen and unparalleled. Amidst
all the ruin and impoverishment which had been inflicted by the
Persian invasion of Attica, there was nothing which was so profoundly
felt or so long remembered as the deliberate burning of the statues
and temple of the gods.

If we could imagine the excitement of a Spanish or Italian town, on
finding that all the images of the Virgin had been defaced during the
same night, we should have a parallel to what was now felt at
Athens--where religious associations and persons were far more
intimately allied with all civil acts and with all the proceedings of
every-day life--where, too, the god and his efficiency