Archbishop of Canterbury enthroned in the central stall.

The theatre at Athens is not open night by night, nor even day by day.
Dramatic performances take place only at certain high festivals of
Dionysos in winter and spring. It is, again, as though the modern
theatre was open only at the festivals of the Epiphany and of Easter.
Our modern, at least our Protestant, custom is in direct contrast. We
tend on great religious festivals rather to close than to open our
theatres. Another point of contrast is in the time allotted to the
performance. We give to the theatre our after-dinner hours, when work is
done, or at best a couple of hours in the afternoon. The theatre is for
us a recreation. The Greek theatre opened at sunrise, and the whole day
was consecrated to high and strenuous religious attention. During the
five or six days of the great _Dionysia_, the whole city was in a state
of unwonted sanctity, under a _taboo_. To distrain a debtor was illegal;
any personal assault, however trifling, was sacrilege.

Most impressive and convincing of all is the ceremony that took place on
the eve of the performance. By torchlight, accompanied by a great
procession, the image of the god Dionysos himself was brought to the
theatre and placed in the orchestra. Moreover, he came not only in human
but in animal form. Chosen young men of the Athenians in the flower of
their youth--_epheboi_--escorted to the precinct a splendid bull. It was
expressly ordained that the bull should be "worthy of the god"; he was,
in fact, as we shall presently see, the primitive incarnation of the
god. It is, again, as though in our modern theatre there stood,
"sanctifying all things to our use and us to His service," the human
figure of the Saviour, and beside him the Paschal Lamb.

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