I / i • < I GREECE IN THE TIMES OF HOMER. AN ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, CUSTOMS, AND HABITS OF THE GREEKS DURING THE HOMERIC PERIOD. BY T. T. TIMAYENIS, ""J * ' MEMBER OF THE ORDER OF THE ROYAL CROSS OF GREECE, AND AUTHOR OF “a history of GREECE FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE PRESENT,” ETC. NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. I, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET. 1885. ''JSTON COL.'.LC-f HIU . . ; Copyright, 1885, By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. V ' / / 131707 THIS WORK IS DEDICATED TO JOHN D. ROCKEFELLER, IN RECOGNITION OF THE GENEROUS SYMPATHY AND ASSISTANCE EXTENDED BY HIM TO THE CAUSE OF EDUCATION, AND AS A TOKEN OF ADMIRATION FOR THE MANY NOBLE QUALITIES THAT ADORN HIS PRIVATE LIFE. PREFACE. k- Repeated requests from readers of my “ His¬ tory of Greece ” for a book on the Homeric times, which, as a matter of necessity, were briefly treated in the history, have induced me to undertake the present work. There is, per¬ haps, no page in the whole history of the Hel¬ lenic race so interesting and instructive as the Homeric age. An irresistible charm has always drawn me to that period. When we consider that centuries before Christ, when the rest of the world was steeped in barbarism, the Hellenic peo¬ ple enjoyed a civilization in many respects un¬ surpassed to this day, that they transported large armies across the sea, that they first of all found¬ ed institutions which have elevated mankind, that they produced a poet who alone is sufficient to glorify a nation, we may well feel an interest in investigating more fully such an age. In the preparation of the present volume, I have conscientiously examined nearly every book VI PREFACE. —Greek, French, German, or English—written on Homer. But my great teacher and guide has been Homer himself, and I have not hesitated to base my judgment upon the poems, as consti¬ tuting the highest authority. This work is, of course, not intended for specialists. My aim has been to reach that vast class of intelligent read¬ ers who have neither time nor inclination to search the voluminous books which thus far have appeared on the Homeric age, and which, as a general thing, are written in too heavy and diffuse a style. I have taken care to tell the story as simply as possible, and to avoid all terms which would be unintelligible to the average reader. The entire Homeric life, from the birth of the hero to his death, is unfolded in a single volume of less than three hundred pages. Scholars are wont to place the Germans at the head of all commentators or expositors of Homer and the Homeric age. This idolatry of everything that springs on German soil is so blind that the most absurd statement that might be made by one of the savants of Gottingen or of Berlin becomes at once a sort of axiom, and alas for him who shall dare to offer a contrary opinion! I am far from wishing to belittle the almost Herculean labors of the Germans in the field of Grecian literature. Their patience, re¬ search, and investigation are much to be admired. But I protest most emphatically against those PREFACE. • • Vll who seek to ridicule American scholarship, tram¬ mel American investigation in the field of classi¬ cal literature, and scoff at everything that may be antagonistic to Teutonic ideas. Of all the books that have yet appeared on Homer, the best, in my opinion, has been written by a modern Greek, Mr. Kleon R. Rangabd. His work, “'O KA&' OMHPON OIEJAKOS BIOS;* has already rendered the name of the author immortal; and not only do I acknowledge my obligations to the work of Mr. Rangabe, but I frankly confess that during the preparation of the present work the KAQ' OMHPON OIKJAKOS BIOS ” has never left my side (see note at the end of the book). I have used Bryant’s translation—the prince of the translators of Homer—in quoting pas¬ sages from the poet. T. T, Timayenis, New York School of Languages, December i, 1884, CONTENTS. PART FIRST. « THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. CHAPTER 1 . PAGE The house and its architecture—The house in general—The Homeric house—Architecture—Materials of construction and the tools in use.i CHAPTER II. General divisions of the Homeric house—Terms and names of the parts of the house in Homer—The court—The wall around the court—The court-gate—Glistening inner walls—The house of the watch-dog—Stoae—Prothyron, or the space before the door—Orsothyre, or posterior door—Laura, or a narrow passage—Doma, or men’s room—Dourodoke, or stand for spears—The throne of the singer—The eschara, or the hearth—Thalamos, or women’s apartment—Apotheke, or the store-room—The marriage-chamber—The tholos, or the vault—The keys. 25 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER III. ^ PAGE The furniture—The seats—Chests for storage—Lamps— Vases, carpets, etc.63 CHAPTER IV. Gardens—The garden of Alkinoos, and of Kalypso . .75 PART SECOND. THE FAMILY. CHAPTER I. Man—woman.82 CHAPTER II. Love.114 CHAPTER III. Marriage—Courtship—The gifts—The nuptials—Second mar¬ riage—Marital faithlessness—Blood-marriages—Concu¬ bines .121 \ CHAPTER IV. Children—Education—Amusements.158 CONTENTS, XI / CHAPTER V. • PAGE Parental love—Brotherly love—Illegitimate children—Slavery —The value of slaves—The number of slaves—Hired do¬ mestics .i86 PART THIRD. DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. CHAPTER I. Clothing—Apparel of women—The hair—Sandals—Gloves —Ornaments.226 CHAPTER II. Baths—Anointing—Washing the feet—Banquets—Food and drink—Table furniture.241 CHAPTER III. Diseases—Wounds—Physicians and surgeons—Women as physicians—Death—After death .... 263 > j * I 1 PART FIRST. THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. CHAPTER I. The house and its architecture—The house in general—The Ho¬ meric house—Architecture—Materials of construction and the tools in use. The House and its Architecture. —The ex¬ humed city of Pompeii is one of the most interest¬ ing relics of antiquity. Situated in the fertile plain of Campania, it was reckoned among the finest and richest cities of the ancient world. Its gardens and villages, regardless of danger, stretched to the very summit of its terrible neighbor, Vesuvius, which had long been deemed dead. The traces of former de¬ struction, visible on the fertile plains and on the coast of the Bay of Naples, were attributed to the battles between Zeus and the Titans. Suddenly, on the i6th of February, a. d. 63, a fearful earthquake destroyed a part of the city, thus reminding the improvident inhabitants that the giant had only slumbered. The warning was soon forgot- 2 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. ten, and the city was rebuilt more beautiful than before. The following year, another earthquake de¬ stroyed the theatre of Naples, a few moments after a noted public singer had finished a ribald and blasphe¬ mous song. But this calamity was attributed to the wrath of the gods against the blasphemer, and the for¬ mer carelessness reigned again supreme. On the 24th of August, in the year 79, a deaf¬ ening detonation awoke the careless people from their lethargy. The sky became dark, the mountains roared and sent forth burning ashes, hot water, and cataracts of lava, followed by a flaming wave which completely enveloped the surrounding plains. Pliny the Elder was at that time near by, on board a tri¬ reme, and forthwith' hastened to render assistance to the inhabitants, who from all sides were fleeing to the coast; but on disembarking he met his death, and the great physiologist thus fell a victim to his phil¬ anthropic disposition. In the mean time the detonations and explosions continued, and the lava came in torrents thick and fast. Pliny the Younger, who, with his mother, re¬ mained at a village not far distant, ran from his crumbling home, unable to rest anywhere from fear of being buried under the burning ashes. In the morning, when the evil abated and the darkness began to be dispelled, the first streak of THE HOUSE AND ITS ARCHITECTURE. 3 light fell over a great desert, and in vain sought the mirth-loving Pompeii. The entire city, in the fullness of its life, wherein still throbbed, as it were, the en¬ tire archaic mode of living, was covered, as if by a supernatural hand, under a mass of thick lava, where¬ in it remained for centuries hermetically sealed, to re¬ appear anew in after-ages, untouched and unbroken, before the eyes of the modern world. A little more than fifty years ago, the plow of a farmer struck against a hewn marble, which accident gave rise to excavations, and the buried city, with all its amphitheatres, temples, markets, ancient homes, and almost with its inhabitants, was again revealed to the light of the sun. Pompeii is an unbroken whole—it is a century of antiquity, the first one during and after Christ that was preserved, and now appears before our eyes. Under it lies the life of that epoch in all its splen¬ dor and minuteness. If the archaeologist, or even the simple traveler, on reaching the summit of the hill overlooking the ancient city, should, after repressing his first feelings of wonder, enter through the He- rakleian gate and go over the Street of the Tombs, he will gradually, after divorcing himself from the present, see displayed before him, in all its splendor, that magnificent picture. His first visit will certainly be to the Forum Civile^ 4 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. or the city market, where stood the magnificent Tem¬ ple of Zeus. Following the same road straight on, he will come to the Amphitheatre, and, farther on, to the Odeon, where he will unconsciously recall to his imagination, on the one hand, the turbulent meetings of old, together with the famous games, and, on the other, the sacrifices performed in honor of the gods. As the evening advances, the stranger leaves those magnificent edifices and, passing from the public to the private life, comes to less pretentious but none the less curious buildings. On entering this or that house, he still sees the furniture in the same position as it stood before it was engulfed. There are couches around the symposium-table, waiting for the convivi- alists ; here are seats, around the hearth, for even¬ ing conversation; and, elsewhere, the marble bath with a tripod lying by, on which are vials and other cosmetic pieces, to which the fair bather may reach out her white hand. If the sun by this time is setting behind the hills, and the twilight suc¬ ceeds, he may see, as in a dream, all that past life reappearing and moving before him — the houses filled, charming family scenes, archaic in type, like a beautiful expressive statue, uncovered before his sight. Such an unbroken monument is Homer also, a true Pompeii of the pan-archaic centuries of Hellas, THE HOUSE A HD ITS ARCHITECTURE. 5 a whole period, great and august, wonderfully pre¬ served and developed before our eyes. The won¬ derful society of the heroes and of the demigods is reflected from the poems in all its magnificence and simplicity. As in Pompeii one looks first for the temples and theatres, so in Homer we will search first of all for generalities, for the religion, the govern¬ ment, the public and political relations. But when,' afterward, we descend from the public into the pri¬ vate life, when we penetrate into the family circle, which existed thirty centuries ago, we shall be amply rewarded for our trouble. We shall find a wonder¬ ful grace and simplicity characterizing the so-called mythical epoch, and behold the enchanting descrip¬ tions of the Homeric scenes unfolded before our very eyes. On one hand, the impudent suitors behave in¬ decorously, supping and drinking with the female servants in the court of Odysseus; on the other, Al- kinoos sits in his magnificent apartments, in the midst of his nobles, listening to divine songs ; now the wise Penelope languishes in her chamber, surrounded by her female attendants, and converses about her ab¬ sent lord, weaving those costly carpets and the fine linen with which the Homeric storehouses abounded. Then, again, the young and refreshing sight of Nau- sikaa, the prototype of maidenly grace and purity, in 6 • THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. her enchanting simplicity, illumes the darkness of that long-past epoch. He who has occupied him¬ self only with the battle-scenes of the “ Iliad,” which, it is true, form some of the most magnificent descrip¬ tions in Homer, wonders at the sweet picture of the maiden, drawn by the same hand with a perfection equaled only by that of Raphael. But, on examin¬ ing still more closely the theme, we find it full of unexpected charms, and are convinced that in that great epopee wherein we see the gods acting with the heroes, and under the clang of arms, the pomp and military tactics, there appears an entire line of inimi¬ table pictures from which may be deduced with the utmost minuteness the family life of those years. The House in general. —The exact knowledge of the ancient house, and the positive arrangement of its various parts, whose names only are usually found among writers, have long been one of the most difficult archaeological problems. The scarcity of passages throwing light upon this subject, the different use and application of the terms mentioned by various writers, the great confusion of testimony prevalent among scholiasts and lexicog¬ raphers, and the complete non-existence of ruins— excepting one found in Delos—have rendered well- nigh impossible an accurate description; so that, al¬ though the very last garment, as it were, of family THE HOUSE AND ITS ARCHITECTURE. 7 life has been ascertained, concerning the house, and the family hearth, we have only confused facts. Fur¬ ther investigation is needed to make our knowledge satisfactory. Investigators generally agree that the house was composed of the doorway, the court, the men’s apart¬ ments, and the women’s apartments; but where each one of these was situated, and how they were all con¬ nected, for the completion of the whole, are by no means positively determined. Many writers follow closely the account left by Vitruvius, who, as it is well known, speaks quite ex¬ tensively of the Greek houses of his epoch, and who is, in fact, one of the chief sources from which our knowledge on this subject is derived. He is not, however, a safe guide, for many inaccuracies mar his works, as, for instance, when he places — and most strangely so — the women’s apartments in the front part of the house, through which it would have been necessary to pass in order to go into the inner rooms. He is, besides, in direct antagonism with everything mentioned in ancient writers concerning the women and the women’s apartments ; yet the admirers of Vi¬ truvius continually bring forth arguments to reconcile his arrangement. Others, again, basing their opinions upon the anomalies and the munificence which characterize 8 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. the house described by Vitruvius, maintain that the Roman architect had in view some of the magnificent edifices belonging to the Alexandrine epoch, rather than to the Hellenic house of the classic times, when the temples and the public edifices only, in which the Hellene principally passed his day, were magnificent; while the private houses, which served merely as an asylum for the family, and where the master spent the night only, were simple and, for the most part, cheap. Hence,' rejecting the statements of Vitruvius, they place the women’s apartments behind those of the men. Becker, the best of the writers on this subject, in his work entitled “Charikles,” a wonderful store¬ house of ancient knowledge, gave us a more thorough description than any of his predecessors. But, al¬ though there is still much incompleteness in his work, and the peplum covering the house is not fully up¬ lifted, the sketch drawn by Becker is considered, if not perfect, at least the one nearest to the truth. Hermann, who wrote after Becker, we pass over, because he speaks little on the subject, and most of his information is derived from his famous prede¬ cessor. The Homeric House. —The aspect, however, is altogether different as respects the Homeric house. The divine poet, while singing of lofty subjects, often THE HOMERIC HOUSE. 9 tells, in few words, much of other things. Besides the descriptions of the palaces of Odysseus, Menelaos, Priamos, and Alkinods ; besides the tent of Achilles, which was pitched in the shape of a house, and the caves of Kalypso and Kirke ; in many other passages of the ** Iliad,” and especially of the “ Odyssey,” we find, scattered here and there, much valuable infor¬ mation respecting the house. By collecting and col¬ lating these statements, we acquaint ourselves with the principal and characteristic details of the homes of that period. It is claimed that Homer sings of an epoch older than himself — in our opinion, not more than fifty years older—and he especially mentions royal man¬ sions. But, excepting the palaces of Alkinods, or which he evidently seeks to arouse our admiration, and which were worthy of the King of the Phaekeans —a relative of the gods—and were certainly more costly than any other existing edifice of the kind, there is nothing unusual, and even the residences of Odysseus and Priamos were clearly delineated after prototypes which the poet himself had before him. Respecting the minute details he offers, they were, to a great extent, probably the offspring of his imagi¬ nation, which not unfrequently adorned and lighted up his pictures : but it can not, on the other hand, be denied that, as respects the principal characteristics 10 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE, of a house, he speaks the exact truth, even as regards the palaces of Alkinods, because his contemporaries had ready means of ascertaining the truth of his de¬ scriptions, and no radical changes in architecture could have been effected in so short a time. A clear proof of the foregoing is that, notwith¬ standing the lack of testimony existing for many hun¬ dred years, concerning the shape of the house, from the Homeric poems down to the Peloponnesian War, we find not fifty or a hundred years, but whole cent¬ uries after the capture of the Troas, the houses simi¬ lar in their main characteristics to those described by Homer. The manner, also, with which Homer expresses himself seems an evident proof of our position, be¬ cause he mentions everything as if it were well known to all, never deeming any additional explanations in the least necessary. Now, if the subjects of the poems existed only in the fancy of the poet, and were not familiar to the hearers, in fact, not before their very eyes, the com¬ prehension of the poems of Homer would have been unintelligible even to his contemporaries, who heard but the names of non-existing things. Accordingly, if we delineate a house such as the poet describes in several places in his poems, it re¬ sults that we present not any imaginative invention THE HOMERIC HOUSE. II of the Homeric genius, but an actual building such as was erected in those years. Nowhere is it clearly mentioned by how much, or in what way, the private house differed from the royal; but it is natural that, as there were no architects devising new and original plans for the more costly residences, the latter were distinguished only by the greater cost and munifi¬ cence as regards details, the general plan remaining unchanged. This statement is, of course, applicable only to a certain extent, for we find no trace whatever of a diagram of the house of Odysseus or Priamos, or the hut of the swineherd Eumaeos. But, from the mo¬ ment the house began to be distinguished from the hut, the principal characteristics commenced also to appear, such as the court, the chamber, the main- room—all of which were developed in proportion to the wealth and taste of the occupant. Having said so much, we now return to our prin¬ cipal theme, the Homeric house, concerning which we have no other important source of information ex¬ cepting the poet. The testimony of Homer himself is, if not rare, at least incidental, just touching upon the subject, so that it furnishes a slight assurance, and gives rise to many difficulties. The different use, also apparent in the poems, of the same terms and names, engenders many other doubts, on account of which it 12 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. was deemed a great achievement when Voss, about the beginning of the present century, having fitted to¬ gether the information scattered through the “Iliad” and the “ Odyssey,” produced one whole, and added, at the end of his classical translation of the* poems of Homer, a diagram of a house. Unfortunately, he left the matter too open for the imagination, when¬ ever certainty lacked; but, having made the first step, he is justly considered as having accomplished more than half the work. Hirt, who wrote twenty years later, copied Voss almost verbatim. J. G. Schneider, in his second edi¬ tion of the “ Memorabilia ” of Xenophon (Leipsic, 1801-1808), corrected many errors of his predeces¬ sors. Since his time there have been issued upon this theme many works of considerable importance, those of Payne, Knight, Schreiber, Caumann, Gell, and, best of all, those of Eggers. The large and brilliant work of Rumpf, in three parts, issued at three differ¬ ent epochs by the gymnasium of Giessen, according to the German custom, justly obtained, as regards the Homeric house, the place which that of Becker held for the house of the classical epoch. But, unfortu¬ nately, the work is limited to special topics, particu¬ larly the orsothyra^ or the back-door, and the me- sodmae^ or small spaces opening into the palace ; so that the hope is left to us that, in framing a general ARCHITECTURE. 13 whole, we do not attempt an altogether useless under¬ taking. Another work—that of Krause (1863)—has since its issue obtained no inconsiderable celebrity. Besides the Homeric poems, there remains a relic, bearing the same testimony in regard to the house of the heroic times which the ruins existing in Delos bear to the classical period. The former relic is worthy of especial notice, because, having been discovered in Ithaka, it is reputed to have been the very house of Odysseus. In truth, only the foundations are extant, but the parts of the house are clearly distinguished, and the divisions in nearly everything agree with those given by Homer, while throughout its entire periphery the peribolos of the court is clearly visible. That these curious remains belong to some house, similar to those described by the poet, and prob¬ ably of the Homeric period, is an undisputed fact. Whether that particular house is really that of Odys¬ seus—which scholars like Zell and Schreiber main¬ tain—setting forth that it lies in that very part of the island in which, according to probable conject¬ ures and the description of the poet, the residence of the king was situated, seems to us a fruitless argu¬ ment and of secondar}’- importance, since the very existence of Odysseus is problematical. Architecture. — Architecture during the Ho¬ meric epoch was an important and most esteemed 2 14 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. art. The erection of a shelter for the family proper, was deemed one of the first duties of every citizen, and it was considered no disgrace for nobles, heroes, and kings, to work with their own hands in the erec¬ tion of their houses : “. . . Hector was hastening to the sumptuous home Of Alexander, which that prince had built With aid of the most cunning architects In Troy the fruitful, by whose hands were made The bedchamber and hall and ante-room.” “. . . Well do I remember thee. As thou wert in the day when thy good ship Bore thee from Ithaca. Bestir thyself. Dame Eurycleia, and make up with care A bed without the chamber, which he framed With his own hands; bear out the massive bed And lay upon it seemly coverings. Fleeces and mantles for his nightly rest.” “ . . . What man goes ever forth To bid a stranger to his house, unless The stranger be of those whose office is To serve the people, be he seer, or leech. Or architect, or poet heaven-inspired. Whose song is gladly heard ? . . .” ' The architect is mentioned as one of the most useful of artisans, the dearest and most honored of friends, and was placed in the same rank as the soothsayer, the physician, and the singer. This fact in itself seems an evident proof of the development MATERIALS AND TOOLS IN USE. 15 which architecture had attained during the Homeric epoch, because, if it were still in its swaddling-clothes, as Stieglitz professes, the honors bestowed upon the architects would appear difficult to be understood. Wherefore, we believe that the above-mentioned writ¬ er is in error in attributing to the poetic imagination of Homer all that he relates concerning the houses and the magnificence of the various places. Materials of Construction and the Tools IN Use. —The building-materials mentioned by Ho¬ mer are wood, stone, tiles, and metals. Of wood we have the ash, the cypress, the cedar : “ . . . He sat him down On the ashen threshold, just within the doors,” “. . . He descended next Into a fragrant chamber, cedar-lined. High-roofed, and stored with many things of price,” Much use was made of stone, and the mode of fashioning and dressing it was well known to the ancients. We read often of smoofh polished stones : “ And then he came to Priam’s noble hall,— A palace built with graceful porticoes. And fifty chambers near each other, walled With polished stone, the rooms of Priam’s sons And of their wives. . . .” “ The people clamored for both sides, for both Had eager friends ; theffieralds held the crowd THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. i6 In check; the elders, upon polished stones Sat in a sacred circle. . . “ Soon as the daughter of the dawn appeared The rosy-fingered Morning, Nestor left His bed and went abroad, and took his seat On smooth white stones, before his lofty doors That glistened as with oil. . . .” The potter’s art was well understood. In the “ Iliad ” a round or “ circular ” dance is compared to a potter’s wheel : “ The maids wore wreaths of flowers ; the young men swords Of gold in silver belts; they bounded now In a swift circle—as a potter whirls With both his hands a wheel to try its speed. . . The word “ keramos,” tile^ is given in the Iliad ” also to a kind of prison, either because, according to Friedreich, it was constructed of tiles, or because the prisoner was inclosed in it, as it is also related in the Scriptures, in a sort of Eastern vessel: "... First it was the fate Of Mars to suffer, when Aloeus’ sons, Otus and mighty Ephialtes, made Their fetters fast upon his limbs. He lay Chained thirteen months within a brazen cell.” The first of these suppositions seems untenable, from the following phrase found in Homer, “ metal¬ lic tiles,” from which it is manifest that the walls of the aforesaid prison were covered by metallic plates. MA TERIALS AND TOOLS IN USE. 17 The materials most often spoken of in Homer are the metals, and the frequency with which they are mentioned is somewhat strange. In fact, it ap¬ pears that the metals in the Homeric epoch were more used than to-day, when the perfected arts in various ways find substitutes for them ; but it is prob¬ able, on the other hand, that the poet, in order to describe the houses of his kings and heroes as more magnificent than they actually were, often surpassed the limits of accurate truthfulness, at least as respects the usual application of metals. The justice of this remark may be seen from the description of the palaces of Alkinods, which, on account of their magnificence and the multitude of the metals whereby they shone resplendent, certainly approaches the boundaries of myth; **. . . For, on every side, beneath The lofty roof of that magnanimous king, A glory shone as of the sun or moon. There on the threshold, on each side, were walls Of brass that led toward the inner rooms. With blue steel cornices. The doors within The massive building were of gold, and posts Of silver on the brazen threshold stood; And silver was the lintel; and above Its architrave was gold, and on each side Stood gold and silver mastiffs, the rare work Of Vulcan’s practiced skill; placed there to guard The house of great Alcinoiis, and endowed With deathless life, that knows no touch of age.” 18 the homes of the people. However common the use of the metals may have been, we can hardly believe that entire walls and doors were constructed from them, so that the above statements are, perhaps, poetical exaggerations, allow¬ able in describing the residences intended for super¬ human beings and descendants of'the gods, but not necessarily similar to those of ordinary mortals. Or it is possible the poet refers not to solid or cast metal, but to metallic plates covering portions of the palaces. The house of Hephaestos is described in a similar way : “ . . . Silver-footed Thetis came Meanwhile to Vulcan’s halls, eternal, gemmed With stars, a wonder to th’ immortals, wrought Of brass by the lame god.” That this, which reminds one of Phoenician art, belonged really to the time or condition of that epoch, is conjectured from the Chalkioikos Athene in Sparta, as well as from the still extant subterranean tomb in Mykenae. This tomb, known under the ap¬ pellation of the “ Treasury of Atreus,” or 'more com¬ monly the ^‘Tomb of Agamemnon,” bears everywhere on the wall small holes, occasioned very probably by the nails holding together the plates with which evi¬ dently the wall was covered. The working of metals was in an advanced state during the heroic times. A curious picture of a black¬ smith’s shop is found in the Iliad,” where Hepha- MATEJ^IALS AND TOOLS IN USE, 19 estos is represented fashioning the famous arms of Achilles : “ So speaking he withdrew, and went where lay The bellows, turned them toward the fire, and bade The work begin. From twenty bellows came Their breath into the furnaces,—a blast Varied in strength as need might be; for now They blew with violence for a hasty task. And then with gentler breath, as Vulcan pleased And as the work required. Upon the fire He laid impenetrable brass, and tin. And precious gold and silver.” The joining together of different metals, and their combination into various useful alloys, were also well understood at that early age : *‘. . . I will give a cup Wrought all of silver, save its brim of gold.” “ . . . I present A goblet all of silver, save the lips. And they are bound with gold.” “ . . . I give The brazen corselet which my arm in war Took from Asteropaeus, edged around With shining tin.” The manner, also, of rendering metals bright was known : “ Again Pelides placed before the host A mass of iron, shapeless from the forge.” 20 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. Gold was, of course, esteemed above all other met¬ als. Telemachos admires its abundance in the house of Menelaos : “ See, son of Nestor, my beloved friend. In all these echoing rooms the sheen of brass. Of gold, of amber, and of ivory. Such is the palace of Olympian Jove Within its walls. How many things are here Of priceless worth! I wonder as I gaze.” Odysseus also adorns his bed with precious met¬ als : “ . . . I bored the wood With wimbles, placed on it the frame, and carved The work till it was done, inlaying it With silver, gold, and ivory.” It would appear, also, that gold was beaten out into small threads, because we find mentioned a golden crest of helmet: “ It glittered like a star. And all the shining tufts and golden thread. With which the maker’s hand had thickly set Its cone, were shaken. ” The coloring of metals was very probably effected by some mixture, because, in the description of the shield of Achilles, there appears a golden vine, the grapes of which were of a deeper hue : “ A vineyard also on the shield he graved. Beautiful, all of gold, and heavily MATERIALS AND TOOLS IN USE. 21 Laden with grapes. Black were the clusters all; The vines w'ere stayed on rows of silver stakes.” Silver was used especially in ornamenting furni¬ ture : “ One spread the thrones with gorgeous coverings; Above was purple arras, and beneath Were linen webs ; another, setting forth The silver tables just before the thrones. Placed on them canisters of gold.” “ . . . Beside the hearth they placed for her The throne where she was wont to sit, inlaid With ivory and silver.” Iron is seldom mentioned as a material for build¬ ing. But this metal was polished, and hence it is often accompanied by the adjective fire-colored, fiery : “ He fell among the dust of earth, as falls A poplar growing in the watery soil Of some wide marsh,—a fair, smooth bole, with boughs Only on high, which with his gleaming axe Some artisan has felled, to bend its trunk Into the circle of some chariot-wheel; Withering it lies upon the river’s bank.” The tempering of iron, by dipping it into cold water, was well understood; as was, also, the making of kyanoSy or blue steel: “ As when a smith, in forging axe or adze. Plunges, to temper it, the hissing blade Into cold water, strengthening thus the steel.” 22 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. Hence Bacon is in error when he says : “ The ex¬ periment of rendering iron hard by cooling it is a modern invention ; that is to say, the hardening of metals by repeated heating and extinction of the heat in cold.”* The working of iron, however, presented much difficulty, wherefore we often meet the phrase— “ Brass, gold, and tempered steel.” On the other hand, the art of working copper seems to have been much more advanced than it is to-day. Arms and various utensils were fashioned from this metal, possessing a strength which modern craftsmen seek in vain. Many suppose that some method was then in vogue for its tempering, which modern art has lost. Herodotos mentions the fact that brass among the Messanatae entirely took the place of iron. Among the metals at that time in use tin, also, is mentioned : “ At last he forged him greaves of ductile tin.” “ Ten were its bars of tawny bronze, and twelve Were gold, and twenty tin; and on each side Were three bronze serpents stretching toward the neck, * “ Experimentum indurationis per frigus hodie inventum est; metalla scillicet repetita ex calefactione, et extinctione in frigido indurescire.” MATERIALS AND TOOLS IN USE. 23 Curved like the colored bow which Saturn’s son Sets in the clouds, a sign to men.” “ . . . All bright with tin And gold, the car rolled after them.” A conclusive proof of the skill and experience of the ancients in metallurgy is presented to us in the shield of Achilles, in which Herakleides of Pontos, Philostratos the Younger, and Demon the philosopher, claim to find the representation of the entire universe. It is, of course, true that that wonderfully artistic production, the work of a superhuman artificer, owes much to the imagination of the poet, but there must have existed some foundation of truth, as in the case of the house, for Homer always bases his pictures on fact, and then enlarges and beautifies them. The orophos a sort of reed, was also a material employed in construction, and it was especially used for roofs. , As the word orophe means in Greek “roof,” the name given to it, from the material that covers the same, shows that its use was exceedingly com¬ mon. Finally, working - tools of metal are mentioned : among others, the axe (the great^ the bronze^ the double- edged)f the adze (the well-polished^ the sharp - cutting)y used for delicate work, and the rule^ for cutting straight: 24 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. ** Twenty in all [trees] he brought to earth and squared Their trunks with the sharp steel, and carefully He smoothed their sides and wrought them by a line. “ And leaned against a shaft of cypress-wood Which some artificer had skillfully Wrought by a line and smoothed.” CHAPTER II. General divisions of the Homeric house—Terms and names of the parts of the house in Homer—The court—The wall around the court—The court-gate—Glistening inner walls— The house of the watch-dog—Stoae—Prothyron, or the space before the door—Orsothyre, or posterior door—Laura, or a narrow passage—Doma, or men’s room—Dourodoke, or stand for spears—The throne of the singer—The eschara, or the hearth—Thalamos, or women’s apartment—Apotheke, or the store-room—The marriage-chamber—The tholos, or the vault —The keys. General Divisions of the Homeric House.— That the Homeric house was composed of three prin¬ cipal parts, the poet himself shows when he says that Paris built a house in Troy, with the aid of the best architects of the time, and had made “ The bedchamber and hall and anteroom.” The fact that this phrase is general for the entire house we also ascertain from another passage, where it is applied almost literally to the palace of Odysseus. After the slaughter of the suitors, the death of the 26 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. faithless servants, and the mutilation of Melanthios, Odysseus seeks from Eurykleia sulphur, ^‘the cure of noxious air,” and fire, that he may purge the house, polluted by the murderous scenes therein enacted. The old nurse obeyed, and Odysseus steeped in smoke the palace— “ Both court and hall.” The phrase used on that occasion by Odysseus was, “ that I may purge the palace ” (megaron)^ which word evidently meant the entire house. Terms and Names of the Parts of the House IN Homer. —It has already been stated that one of the greatest difficulties in the study of Homer is the application he makes of the same names and terms to various and often altogether diametrically opposite objects. Even for the principal parts of the house there is no fixedness whatever in Homer. Thus, in the example above, in one verse he uses the word thalamos — “ room,” “ bedchamber ” — and immedi¬ ately after we have the word megaron^ house,” evidently used in precisely the same signification as thalamos. The cause of this is easily understood, nor is anything more usual than to give to the part the title of the whole, and to the whole the title of the part. But modern interpreters, ignoring the true signifi- •'^STON roll Z'~r ir , , '-i^TNUT i;. . GENERAL EXPLANATION 27 cation of the words, have caused a confusion which has resulted in not a few difficulties. Accordingly, we deem it indispensable, before proceeding further, to examine the meaning of the three terms, as well as the customary application of each. In the former of the two verses above quoted, we have, according to our opinion, the three principal expressions, in their literal signification. First of all, the word thalatnos means, we believe, that part of the habitation which belonged exclusively to women— i. e., the women’s part of the house—and, in brief, the main part of the house : “ As thus he pondered, Helen, like in form To Dian of the golden distaff, left Her high-roofed chamber, where the air was sweet With perfumes.” “ The chaste Penelope now left her bower ” [thalamos]. Passing over the conflicting opinions of the scho¬ liasts, let us briefly examine the varying use of terms, and the disagreements found in the poet himself. The following passage, for instance, seems opposed to the position we have taken : “ Go, nurse, and see the women all shut up In their own place, while in our own inner room \thala- mos] I lay away my father’s beautiful arms.” 28 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE, All, not even Rumpf excepted, agree in maintain¬ ing that, in this particular passage, by the term tha- lamos, is meant some upper room belonging to Odys¬ seus, because there we find the arms kept. But does it not rather mean here the “ store-house,” which, as we shall in due time see, was situated behind the women’s apartments, and often under it ? Accept¬ ing this view, the meaning of the word thalamos be¬ comes here clear and proper. After the departure of Odysseus, his arms—or rather those which belonged to the family, since the hero carried with him to Troy his own particular arms—remained scattered in the large, open, main room. But, when Telemachos grew up, and had become acquainted with the use of arms, he noticed that these were injured by the smoke, and had them placed elsewhere. Now, Odysseus not having returned, and being supposed to be dead, it is probable that Telemachos had the disused arms carried to the store-house, where the superfluous furniture was kept. Notice, however, the following passage : “ And fifty chambers near each other, walled , With polished stone, the rooms of Priam’s sons And of their wives ; and opposite to these Twelve chambers for his daughters, also near Each other; and with polished marble walls. The sleeping-rooms of Priam’s sons-in-law And their unblemished consorts.” GENERAL EXPLANATION. 29 The word thalamos seems to mean the entire habi¬ tation of each of the sons-in-law and sons of Priam. Such might have been the case, in fact, because in¬ contestably we find the word used elsewhere in that meaning, although, in our opinion, it is not its proper signification, as, for instance, when it is said of the quarters of Telemachos : ** While to his lofty chamber [thalamos] in full view, Built high in that magnificent palace home, Telemachus went up.” In this case, it must be confessed also that another interpretation, incompatible with our own, is possible. Of what parts, perchance, were the habitations of the sons and sons-in-law of Priam composed ? Had each habitation a particular room and a private main room, where the men lived ? Certainly not, since fifty such rooms were found in line within one and the same court. It is far more probable that all the men who belonged to the family used to assemble in the common sitting-room, the doma^ the main room of the great house, where they spent the day, supped, and only in the evening came to the quarters in the court where the women lived with the maid-servants. If such was the case, it is not at all to be wondered at that these quarters were called thalafnoiy having proba¬ bly a bridal-room attached to them. Still, there exists 30 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. no wrong use of the word here, even if the whole was called by the most important part. Now, as the word thalamos refers both to the women’s apartments, and to the main room occupied by them, in the same way the word doma means, we think, the men’s quarters as well as the main room therewith: “ And go and bid Penelope come down. With her attendant women, and command That all the handmaids of the household come.” * As to the word aule court ” there is no confusion whatever, and there are many phrases with the same interpretation, as the feeding-place of the court-yard; the wall round the court-yard; and often only the wall around. This latter name is due to the wall or hedge inclosing the court. Rumpf, Eggers, and others, how¬ ever, more distinctly attribute the name to the small court lying behind the house. It is, indeed, true that the verse— ^‘. . . Within my court There grew an olive-tree, with full-leaved boughs— A tall and flourishing tree.” indisputably bears out the opinion of the above-named scholars ; but often the same term is found to desig¬ nate the court proper, and, accordingly, this distinc¬ tion seems to us unfounded ; and we regard the ex- * Into the doma. GENERAL EXPLANATION. 31 pression hcrkos “ hedge ” as general, and indifferently applied. But what does the word megaron mean, which we noticed above, used instead of thalamos? The question is a difficult one, because there is no term in Homer employed in a more multifarious sense. Thus, in— “ He spake, and entering that fair dwelling-place, Passed through to where the illustrious suitors sat ” — we find the word megaron in the Greek text given to the men’s quarters ; but, in— “ Go, nurse, and see the women all shut up In their own place ”— the term is applied to the women’s apartments ; and in— “ She spake, the aged dame went forth to bear The message, and to bring the women back ” ; and in— “ She spake, and from the royal bower w’ent down. Yet not alone; two maidens went with her ”— the term is also applied to the upper part of the house. Nevertheless, it is our opinion that this is the most general of the Homeric expressions, and properly means the house itself—that is to say, the tout en¬ semble of the Homeric habitation, with all its adjuncts. It is certainly most frequently found with that sig¬ nification ; THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. “ Yet, whether he return or not to take Vengeance, in his own palace, on this crew Of wassailers, rests only with the gods.” “ Let her return to where her father dwells.” “ What she shall deem the fairest of the robes. And amplest, in her palace, and the one She prizes most, and lay it on the knees Of the bright-haired Minerva.” “ Hippodameia, eldest-bom of all His daughters, whom her parents, while she dwelt With them, loved dearly.” “ Thou goest down to Hades, and the depths Of earth, and leavest me in thine abode Widowed, and never to be comforted.” Again, the poet usually employs the word, when he speaks in a general way of the house, without dis¬ tinction as to a definite part. Thus, concerning the teiit of Achilles: “ Forth went the train with torches in their hands. And quickly spread two couches.” Of the hut of Eumaeos: “ Ulysses knew her meaning and came forth. And passed the great wall of the court, and there Stood near to Pallas, who bespake him thus.” Of the house of Laertes : “. . . These, when at the board They saw Ulysses, and knew who he was. Stopped in the hall astonished.” \ GENERAL EXPLANATION. 33 Of the cavern of Kalypso : “ . . . I saw him in an isle, And in the same cavern-palace of the nymph.” But, even the varying use of the word seems to us to show its general signification, because names pass readily from the whole to a part, but with much greater difficulty from one part to another. In fact, when the word is found in another sig¬ nification, its application at the same time to the en¬ tire house is possible. Thus, in the passage where it would seem that “ the upper rooms" are referred to, we still find that Penelope wove her web in the palace. It is not to be doubted, of course, that the queen worked in the upper part, but there exists no proof whatever that the poet used in this instance any spe¬ cial term, and not a general expression, simply mean¬ ing that she was weaving in her palace. Homer, in composing his immortal poems, in no wise had in view the criticism of modern ages, which searches after their accurate architectural information. They for whom he was creating accurately grasped his statements, and the beauty of his delineated pict¬ ures was his special care ; so that mere chance repe¬ titions, which offer to us so many difficulties to-day, when closely examined, appear as the result of the very nature of the things themselves. 34 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. The Court.—T he court was an open place in front of the building: . Go thou forth Out of the slaughter to the open court. Thou and the illustrious bard, and sit there. While here within I do what yet I must.” “ . . . When his hands were washed, he took The goblet from the queen, and then, in prayer. Stood in the middle of the court, and poured The wine, and, looking heavenward, spake aloud.” Voss calls the court of Odysseus ‘‘paved,’’ forming his opinion from the following passage : “ ... In the space Before the palace of Ulysses stood The suitors, pleased with hurling quoits and spears On the smooth pavement, where their inclosure So oft was seen . . .” In our opinion, however, Voss is in error, because, if the court had been really paved, Homer would have mentioned it by some distinctive adjective. The phrase, however, smooth pavement^ we find only in one or two passages, when the suitors amused themselves by hurling quoits and spears. It appears to us more probable that the epithet “ paved ” refers to some par¬ ticular spot, situated, perhaps, in the court itself, and especially intended as a place for throwing the quoit, etc. THE WALL AROUND THE COURT 35 Besides the principal court, situated in front of the house, there was another in the rear, which, according to Rumpf, was the one really called herkos —“ hedge inclosure ” ; and another on one side. Voss, Hirt, Schreiber, Friedreich, and a few others, maintain that there was only one general court, which surrounded and inclosed the house on all its sides; on the other hand, Eggers and Rumpf scout this opinion, and as¬ sert the existence of various courts—i. e., one in front, another in the rear, and still another on the side. It is, perhaps, natural that Voss and his followers, hav¬ ing noticed that the courts surrounded the house nearly on all sides, united them into one ; but we re¬ gard the opinion of Rumpf more nearly correct, for we find no mention whatever in Homer of one gen¬ eral court. The Wall around the Court. — Around the court was a stone wall, on which were pitched re¬ doubts, as a defense against enemies and robbers; This, however, was probably not always the case ; and the poet, in calling the wall ‘‘an inclosure,” “an ex¬ cellent inclosure,” had very probably reference to its strength : “ Rooms over rooms are here ; around its court Are walls and battlements, and folding-doors Shut fast the entrance; no man may contemn Its strength.” 36 the homes of THE PEOPLE. “. . . They led forth the maids From the fair pile into the space between The kitchen-vault and solid outer wall.” Those accepting the idea of one great court nat¬ urally believe that the wall, which on all sides sur¬ rounded it, formed a regular parallelogram inclosing the house. Those who believe that there existed three separate courts, naturally maintain that there were three walls also, each of which surrounded one of the courts. That the inclosure was as strong in the rear, and probably on the side of the house, as it was in the front, is shown from the fact that the term herkoSy inclosure,” is principally applied to the rear court. Having adopted the view of three courts, we nat¬ urally are in favor of three walls. But, we confess that, contrary to our opinion, in the relic found in Ithaka,^the court appears really surrounding the en¬ tire house, and the wall around it forms an irregular parallelogram. The Court-Gate. Glistening Inner Walls.— In the midst of the lower side of the great outer court there was a strong and double folding-door: “ No man may contemn its strength.” This was the first and principal entrance into the house, and was shut from within : THE BENCHES BELONGING TO THE COURT 37 “ While silently Philoetius hastened forth And locked the portals of the high-walled court, A cable of the bark of Byblos lay Beneath the portico—it once had served A galley—and with this the herdsman tied the portals.” The side-walls of the gate, which were seen on entering from without, appear to have been magnifi¬ cently adorned ; these were the famous shining walls so often mentioned in Homer, and so often the cause of much dispute: “ And close against the shining wall they placed The car, and then they led the guests within ■ The sumptuous palace.” “ . . . The Hours Unyoked them, bound them to the ambrosial stalls. And leaned against the shining walls the car.” The Benches belonging to the Court. —On both sides of the gate belonging to the court, and toward the outside, were usually placed stone seats “ that glistened as with oil.” Much has been written on this subject; but it is not to this day determined whether these seats were actually covered with oil,.or with some preparation designed to make them shine, or whether a simple comparison is intended by the poet. The scholiasts accept the first view, and base their opinion on the want of the particle (hg in Greek, meaning as t/y or 8 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. like. This view seems to us, also, the correct one, since it is known that stones, when covered with oil, obtain a particular luster, while they quickly dry. Constant use was made of these seats, for we find there the suitors conversing before the house of Odys¬ seus ; we find there the Trojans sitting before the gate of Priam; we find there Telemachos relating before the gate of Menelaos his story to the king ; we find there Nestor and Eumaeos, when Odysseus comes to him : " Then were the suitors vexed and sorrowful, And going from the palace, and without The great wall that enclosed the court, sat down Before the gates, and there Eurymachus, The son of Polybus, harangued the throng.” “ . . . They all had met— Men and youths—in council at the gates Of Priam’s mansion.” “ . . . He found him there. Seated beneath the portico, before His airy lodge, that might be seen from far. Well built and spacious, standing by itself.” This last example shows how common were these seats, since they were found in the portico of the herdsman himself. We can not agree with Rumpf as to their position, for he says that they probably were situated within the court itself, before the main edi¬ fice. Homer clearly expresses himself on this point. THE HOUSE OF THE WATCH-DOG. 39 in saying that the suitors came out of the palace beyond the great wall of the court, and there sat before the gates,” and of Nestor “ he sat upon well- wrought stones which were before the lofty gates,” where the expression “ lofty gates ” evidently means the great court-door. The House of the Watch-Dog. —Near the gate, on the inside, was usually placed a small house for the watch-dogs. Notice that magnificent scene where the old dog Argo is depicted : “ . . . The young men oft had led him forth In chase of wild goats, stags, and hares; But now, his master far away, he lay Neglected, just before the stable-doors,”— and, after twenty years of absence, having first of all recognized Odysseus on his return— “ . . . and as he saw Ulysses drawing near, he wagged his tail. And dropped his ears, but found that he could come No nearer to his master ”— died, as if he awaited only’his master’s return. On the space before the doors of the palace of Alkinoos dogs stood, both of gold and of silver—the works of Hephaestos— “ . . . And on each side Stood gold and silver mastiffs, the rare work Of Vulcan’s practiced skill.” 40 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. Such artificial dogs appear to have been common among the ancients, and in after-times we find them among the Romans as well as the Greeks of the classic period. They took their origin, doubtless, from the pre-existing custom of having live dogs kept by the gate: “ . . . And last. Perchance the very dogs which I have fed Here, in my palaces and at my board, The guardians of my doors.” The Stables and the Rooms of the Servants. —In the lower part of the court, on both sides, were probably placed rooms for the servants, and stables for the oxen, the mules, and other household animals. The existence of stables is conclusively proved from the following passages : “. . . They unyoked the sweaty steeds, And bound them to the stables, and gave them oats. With which they mingled the white barley-grains. And close against the shining wall they placed _ The car.” “ I spake, and Circ^ took her wand and went Forth from her halls, and opening the gate That closed the sty, drove forth what seemed a herd Of swine in their ninth year. ” “ Sit there and scare away the dogs and swine.” “ Within these courts are twenty geese that eat Com from the water.” STABLES AND SERVANTS* ROOMS. 41 Some doubt exists whether the rooms of the serv¬ ants were placed there, and especially whether the maid-servants occupied them ; in other words, that the women lived among the men. It would appear, how¬ ever, that such was the case. The maid-servants not only remained there working during the day, but slept there also. Phoenix, when he relates, how dur¬ ing the night he escaped from the palace of his father, says: “ But when upon me rose the tenth dark night, I broke my aptly-jointed chamber-doors, And issued forth, and easily o’erleaped The wall around the palace, quite unseen Of watching men and of the serving-maids.” Eggers adduces another proof—the beginning of the twenty-third book of the “Odyssey.” The hero, Odysseus, having lain down on the portico before the house, shortly afterward pass by him, laughing and acting indecorously, the maid-servants who had espoused the cause of the suitors. Eggers claims that the maid-servants were just then going from the palace to their own rooms in the court: “. . . There he lay awake, And meditated how he yet should smite The suitors down. Meantime, with cries of mirth And laughter, came the women forth to seek The suitors’ arms.” Notice, however, the following passage : 42 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE, “ Penelope, thus having spoken, went Up to her royal bower, but not alone; Her maids went with her.” It is also said of Nausikaa : “. . . Near her lay. And by the portal, one on either side. Fair as the Graces, two attendant maids.” It must, however, be remembered that all such passages have reference to chamber-maids or domes¬ tics, like the aged nurse Eurykleia; in other words, to privileged servants, or those of higher rank. It would seem, in fact, that these, by exception, slept in or near the apartments of their mistresses, while the others, who resembled the fifty kept in the palace of Odysseus, had their own rooms in the lower part of the court. Voss claims that there existed a separate court, in which were placed the rooms of the servants. As he has no evident proof of this, he certainly came to this conclusion from a feeling of excessive refine¬ ment, so to speak, and he accordingly shut off the oxen and other animals from the court proper, where the family often remained, and which Voss also sup¬ poses to be paved. Considering, however, that we have to deal with patriarchal times, and an epoch when the very sons of kings were shepherds, we are of opinion that the maintenance of animals under STOAE. 43 the immediate surveillance of their masters was in no wise out of place. In fact, we deem this style of life clearly Homeric, and common to every pan- archaic epoch. We often read of the family seated in the upper part of the court, and toward even-tide looking down upon the flocks as they returned from pasture and passed to their respective stalls. Such a sight not only did not disturb the sentiments of the paterfamilias of old, but, on the contrary, if his flocks were abundant, it delighted him, as they con¬ stituted his principal support and main joy. Stoae. —In the lower part of the court, in front of the servants’ rooms and stables, as well as in the upper part, before the edifice proper, there existed covered stoae {porticos), supported by pillars. In the stoae or colonnade, before the stables, the carriages were kept : “ And close against the shining walls they placed The car, and then they led the guests within The sumptuous palace.” But in the stoae, before the edifice proper, the beds of the guests were usually placed : “. . . Meanwhile the son Of Atreus lay within an inner room Of that magnificent pile, and near to him The glorious lady, long-robed Helen, slept.” According to Friedreich, rooms opening upon the colonnade are here referred to, because he deems it 44 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE, incredible that men should sleep there, in a place open on all sides. He, however, forgets that we find Elpinor sleeping on the roof itself: “ He forgot to come By the long staircase; headlong from the roof He plunged." • That this custom of sleeping in the open air is not only possible in the warm climate of the East, but was very common among the ancients, is beyond ques¬ tion. To the Greeks of to-day this practice appears in accordance with the simplicity of the Homeric epoch. Although much has been written concerning the two colonnades, the whole question is still greatly confused. The difficulty, however, arises from Homer himself, for in the “ Odyssey ” he says that Helen ordered the maid-servants “To make up couches in the portico " for the strangers, and immediately afterward he adds : “There in the vestibule, Telemachus, The hero, and with him the eminent son Of Nestor, took their rest.” Thus the words portico {aldovoa) and vestibule (jTpodofiog) are attributed here to one and the same stoa, the one before the house. The same confusion is found in the “ Iliad ”— STOAE. 45 “ Achilles bade the attending men and maids Place couches on the porch (aWova-av), And then King Priam and the herald went To sleep within the porch (7rpo5o/xos), but wary still ”— where it refers to Achilles and his strangers. Else¬ where, th*e appellation portico is given to the stoa be¬ fore the stables : . The women came lamenting loud, With many tears, and carried forth the dead, Leaning upon each other as they went. And placed them underneath the portico Of the walled court." And, again, in the following verses the two appel¬ lations are found in opposition : “ . . . Nor even were the fires Put out; one blazed beneath the portico Of the fair hall, and near the chamber-door Another glimmered in the vestibule." Rumpf, noticing this passage, recognizes the con-^ fusion existing in Homer, but considers it probable that aWovoa (portico) means the place toward the lower part of the court, and npoSofiog (vestibule) the place before the house proper. Among the ancient scholiasts we find much writ¬ ten on this point, but of little value. In our opinion, the term’ aMovoa is a generic term, meaning simply stoa, and indifferently attributed 46 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. to both colonnades, while npodofiog is a particular term applied only to the one before the edifice proper and distinguishing it from the other. Prothyron, or the Space before a Door.— Crossing the court, we proceed toward the house proper. After the vestibule, we first of all meet the prothyron, i. e., an empty space before the door of the house. It was on this spot that the battle be¬ tween Odysseus and Iros took place: “ . . . While Ulysses seized his feet, And drew him o’er the threshold to the court And the porch-doors, and then, beside the wall. Let him to lean against it.” On one side of this prothyron was situated the bath-house, and on the other the room especially in¬ tended for the mill-house : “. . . The attendant maids, who at the bath Had ministered, anointing them with oil, Arrayed the stranger guests in fleecy cloaks And tunics.” “. . . Eurynome, The matron of the palace, meantime took Magnanimous Ulysses to the bath In his own dwelling, smoothed his limbs with oil. And threw a gorgeous mantle over him.” Now, that the “ mills ” were situated somewhere near at hand, is evident from the fact that Odysseus, who, as a stranger, was sleeping in the portico, heard LAURA, OR A NARROIV PASSAGE. 47 one of the mill-grinders foretelling the destruction of the suitors from the thunder, which she sought as a sign from Zeus. Before this chamber where the mills were placed, or perhaps facing directly the bath-house, there ex¬ isted a passage-way leading to a small door, the fa¬ mous orsothyre^ or postern-door, which opened upon the equally famous laura^ or side small court: “In the strong wall there was a postem-door, And, near the outer threshold of the pile, A passage from it to a narrow lane Closed with well-fitting doors.” Orsothyre, or Postern-Door. —Of no part of the Homeric house has there been more written than of the orsothyre —owing, perhaps, to the fact that of nothing else does the poet speak so sparingly. Rumpf, who devotes to this subject the greater part of his book, after having corrected, revised, and united the various opinions, proved that the orsothyre was where we have placed it, and that it was simply a door leading to the side-court. Laura, or a Narrow Passage. —Many maintain that the laura was a narrow passage-way which pro¬ longed the side of the house, and was also independ¬ ent of it. This opinion seems to us erroneous, and we think it far more probable that by this appella¬ tion was designated the side-court which was used to 48 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. facilitate communication, and the work of the house¬ hold. Rumpf advocates this view, for he says, “The laura was not a public way, but a narrow lane by the very side of the house itself, surrounded by a wall.” Doma — Men’s Room. —On leaving the prothyron One entered into “ the great chamber of the men,” through a door which was always magnificently carved, and which in the palace of Odysseus was made of wrought cypress, and in that of Alkinods of gold and silver. This room, where the men sat, and prominent citizens assembled to greet the kings, and where the banquets were spread, was the most important and imposing part of the house. It was in this room that we are shown the suitors feasting in the house of Odysseus ; in this room we find Alkinods seated on his throne, with the leading Phaekeans and Queen Arete, at the knees of whom the hero threw himself. The ceiling of the room was formed of wooden beams, and columns extending in two lines support¬ ed it. Sometimes small columns were placed around the wall. If we consider now that this room occu¬ pied the entire breadth of the house and more than half its depth, we recreate it in our imagination, and we are struck by the already advanced civiliza¬ tion of that far-distant epoch. THE THRONE OF THE SINGER. 49 Dourodoke, or Stand for Spears. — Between two of the smaller pillars mentioned just above there •w'as a place intended for resting the spears. The phrase in Homer, “ He rested the spear, leaning it against the long column,” gave reason to many to suppose that it was here said of one of the pillars in the midst of the room, which, having about it wrought places or grooves, was used as a dourodoke. Eustathius says, “ They grooved the pillars, and there placed the spears,” but we believe that the other view is preferable. The Throne of the Singer. — Near another pillar in the midst of the room was placed a throne for the singer, and on all diagrams we find specified a place called “ the seat of the singer.” However, in opposition to the above, we find— “. . . Pantonoiis, 'mid the guests, Placed for the bard a silver-studded throne.” Now, if the seat was immovable, as it is claimed, how does it happen that Pantonoiis placed a throne for the bard ? It would seem, therefore, that the fixing of a permanent position for the throne in the diagrams is at any rate a presumption. Again, notice that in the following passage no mention is made either of the pillar or the throne: “ . . . And then a herald brought A shapely harp, and gave it to the hands 50 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE, Of Phemius, who had only by constraint Sung to the suitors.” The Eschara, or the Hearth. —In the men’s main room there was also the hearth, for warming the room, and, as we shall hereafter see, for cooking the meals : “ . . . The other maids Of the fair palace of Ulysses woke, And came together, and upon the hearth Kindled a steady fire.” It would seem that the hearth was also used as the sacred fireside of the house. According to all probability, the hearth was a hol¬ low place dug in the wall, and communicating with “ a smoke-escape.” Voss and a few others assert that the smoke of the hearth escaped through an opening in the roof. To be sure, Homer makes no mention whatever of “ a smoke-escape,” but neither does he speak of any such opening. Hirt rightly states that no doubt there ought to have existed a smoke-escape, in a century where we find architecture so much ad¬ vanced. If Telemachos carries his arms into the chamber in order to prevent them getting besmeared with smoke— “ I have put them where there comes no smoke ”— he certainly meant the little smoke which usually escapes even from the most finished hearths; neither THE SIDE^DOORS IN THE MEN'S ROOM. 51 0 is the supposition admissible that all the smoke aris¬ ing from the wood and the cooking was freely let into the magnificent Homeric rooms, which thereby were liable to great damage, as most of the ornaments in them were of metal. Many doubts exist as to the position of the hearth. A few claim that it was in the middle of the room, and they further assert that it also served as ski al¬ tar, and the smoke escaped through a hole in the roof. But this is very improbable, and we believe that the hearth was placed within one of the walls. For a more definite determination of its plan, we ac¬ cept the opinion of Rumpf, “ The hearth was near that part of the house which is commonly called fivxogy” the inner part. On the right of the entrance into the men’s room there was a place where the goblets were kept: " Rise, one by one, my friends, from right to left, Begin where he begins who pours the wine.” “ ... He placed His sweet harp on the floor, between the cup And silver-studded seat, and went and clasped The hero’s knees.” The Side-Doors in the Men’s Room.—B esides the entrance-door into the men’s apartments, and through it into the thala ? nos —the women’s apartments —two other doors existed on the side, which, by means 52 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. of stairs, communicated with the rooms above the men’s main room. In these rooms, which were used as store-rooms, were kept furniture, arms, supplies, and other such things : “ Thus having said, the keeper of the goats, Melanthius, climbed the palace stairs and gained The chamber of Ulysses. Taking thence .Twelve shields, as many spears, as many helmets Of brass, with each its heavy horse-hair plume, He came, and gave them to the suitors’ hands.” According to Voss, in the houses where such rooms did not exist, as, for instance, in those of Kirke, the afore-mentioned stairs led to the roof, and Elpenor, having there missed his footing, fell and was killed. The roof of the Homeric house, as that of most of the Eastern nations, was flat, wherefore Elpenor passed the night there. In the houses without such upper rooms, doubtless the said doors and stairs were also wanting. Thalamos, or Women’s Apartments. — Until lately, before the poems of Homer were more thor¬ oughly examined, it was believed that above the doma^ the dwelling-place of the men, there was some upper loft, called the thalamos^ in which the women lived. Feith, Terpstra, and many writers of old, assert the above. It is strange, however, that Hermann, THALAMOS, OR WOMEN*S APARTMENTS. 53 who recently wrote a work justly admired, is satis¬ fied with this erroneous idea, and brings in testimony a passage from Eustathius which is far from accurate. If we examine the subject carefully, we find Penelope and other women often said to come down from “ the upper loft,” but they also appear in “ the doma ” with¬ out mention of any upper room, stairs, or descent. Hence, it is evident that, besides “ the upper room,” there existed on the very same floor with the doma another chamber where the women usually dwelt. Opposite the principal entrance leading into the doma there was another door having a stone threshold. This door led into a room similar in many respects to the doma, though probably less luxuriously fur¬ nished. This room we have elsewhere noticed was generally called “ thalamos,” and was used as a sit¬ ting-room for the women throughout the day. There the mistress of the house worked in the midst of her female attendants; there we meet Andromache, Penel¬ ope, Helen. It was through this door that Nausikaa came to Odysseus, and Penelope to the suitors, and through it on every occasion the women came forth to share in the pleasures and joys of the doma: “ . . . She sat In a recess of those magnificent halls, And wove a twofold web of brilliant hues, On which were scattered flowers of rare device.” 54 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. “Ye maidens of a sovereign absent long, Withdraw to where your high-born mistress sits.” “ In his room he there Found Paris, busied with his shining arms— Corselet and shield; he tried his curved bow; While Argive Helen with the attendant maids Was sitting, and appointed each a task.” “ Nausikaa, goddess-like in beauty, stood Beside a pillar of that noble roof. And looking on Ulysses as he passed. Admired, and said to him in winged words.” “ . . . When the glorious lady reached The threshold of the strong-built hall, where sat The suitors, holding up a delicate veil.” The roof of the thalamos was, like that of the doma, supported by pillars, and there was also a hearth in it: “ When thou art once within the court and hall. Go quickly through the palace till thou find My mother, where she sits beside the hearth, Leaning against a column in its blaze.” Of the upper rooms, those situated above the tha¬ lamos, we have already spoken in detail. There the mistress, in the absence of her lord, sought refuge; there Penelope passed most of her time, from fear that she might be disturbed in her mourning, and that she might weave in peace the famous web ; there, finally, the maidens had their-own private sleeping- rooms : THALAMOSy OR WOMEN^S APARTMENTS. 55 “ Now to his palace, planning the return Of the magnanimous Ulysses, came The blue-eyed goddess, Pallas, entering The gorgeous chamber where a damsel slept— Nausicaa, daughter of the large-souled king, Alcinoiis, beautiful in form and face As one of the immortals.” We can not accept the idea of Voss, who placed the room of Nausikaa in the court where that of Tele¬ machos was ; nor the position of Friedreich, who main¬ tains that there were rooms for the servants in those upper lofts, inasmuch as we have seen that only the trusted chambermaids slept there ; and we are besides informed, from the example of Nausikaa, that these slept in the same room with their mistress. We further surmise that stairs led to these upper lofts, accessible through doors which opened on the sides of the thalamos, as in the case of the doma. These stairs are often mentioned, but nothing is said as to their position : , “ . . . From her chamber o'er the hall The daughter of Icarius, the sage Queen Penelope, had heard the heavenly strain. And knew its theme. Down by the lofty stairs She came, but not alone.” “ This none but thou must know. Let all these things Be brought together; then as night shuts in. When to her upper chamber, seeking rest. My mother shall withdraw, I come and take What thou providest for me.” THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE, 56 Apotheke, or the Store-Room. —In the inner part of the thalamos^ and under it, the apotheke was situated, in which were kept all the valuables and the furniture not required for daily use. This was a sort of cellar, inasmuch as one had to descend into it, and against the walls were placed boards containing pegs, on which hung the various objects. Thus, in the store-room of Odysseus, among other things, was his bow, which Penelope, taking and bitterly weeping over in remembrance of her husband, brings to the suitors that they may endeavor to bend it: "... Reaching forth her hand. The queen took dowm the bow that hung within Its shining case, and sat her down, and laid The case upon her knees, and, drawing forth The monarch’s bow, she wept aloud.” The door of this store-house is praised by Homer, and its threshold is called “ oaken,” and hence it would appear that its door was thicker than that of any other room: “ Now when the glorious lady reached the room And stood upon the threshold, wrought of oak, And polished by the workman’s cunning hand. Who stretched the line upon it, and set up Its posts, and hung its shining doors, she loosed With a quick touch the thong that held the ring. Put in the key, and, with a careful aim, Struck back the sounding bolts. As when a bull THE MARRIAGE-CHAMBER. 57 Roars in the field, such sound the beautiful doors Struck with the key gave forth, and instantly They opened to her.” The key of the store-house the mistress herself kept; but generally the one having the management and care of the store-room was some faithful servant, like the old nurse Eurykleia in the house of Odysseus. Although we have in the “ Odyssey ” three detailed descriptions of the store-house, and of the things kept in it, we know nothing more concerning it than what has been stated. The Marriage-Chamber. —It has already been noticed that, when the husband was absent, the wife usually slept in the upper room; but when her lord -v^was present, she dwelt with him in a particular room— Those who maintain that the women lived exclu¬ sively in the upper rooms, and that the Homeric '^ouse was composed only of these and the doma, naturally place the marriage-chamber also in the up¬ per part. But the fallacy of this position is clearly shown from the example of Odysseus, who had his marriage-chamber built around a fig-tree found in the herkos (inclosure) ; or, in other words, his rear court, and had the fig-tree made into a bed. Indeed, we surmise from this that this chamber was situated be¬ hind the thalamos^ and communicated with it by a 58 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. door, which, although nowhere mentioned, must have been opposite to the one leading into the doma. The principal passages in Homer agree with the aforementioned arrangement. Thus : “. . . Meantime Achilles slept Within the tent’s recess, and by him lay Phorbas’s daughter, whom he carried off From Lesbos—Diomede, rosy-cheeked. “ And now the twain withdrew to a recess Deep in the vaulted cave, where, side by side. They took their rest.” “ While, in the inner room of that tall pile. The monarch slumbered on a bed of state. Decked for him by the labors of his queen.” “. . . Meanwhile the son Of Atreus lay within an inner room Of that magnificent pile, and near to him The glorious lady, long-robed Helen, slept.” The Rooms in the Court. —The sons and rela¬ tives of the family had a particular place assigned to them in the house : “ And then he came to Priam’s noble hall,— A palace built with graceful porticos. And fifty chambers near each other, walled With polished stone, the rooms of Priam’s sons And of their wives; and opposite to these Twelve chambers for his daughters, also near Each other; and, with polished marble walls. The sleeping-rooms of Priam’s sons-in-law And their unblemished consorts.” THE ROOMS IN THE COURT, 59 These rooms seem to have been placed on both sides of the court; yet a few commentators express doubts as to this. Eggers claims that the rooms were placed in the hall or vestibule, some on the right and others on the left of the entrance. But how can this be ? Fifty rooms near one another on one side of the house and twelve on the other ! This is antagonistic to the laws of symmetry, inasmuch as thus the width of the house becomes monstrous. Again, Homer clearly says, within the court,” which was suffi¬ ciently long to allow fifty rooms to be built on one side of it, and twelve opposite to these; no unsymme¬ try thus existed, inasmuch as the surrounding wall de¬ fined the form of the court, and its regularity in no¬ wise depended upon the greater or less number of the rooms. Our position is the more reasonable, when we consider, as it will hereafter be shown, that these rooms were built, not when the house was originally erected, but by each member of the family, imme¬ diately after his marriage. In like manner we see the sons and sons-in-law of Nestor setting out from the doma and proceeding to their homes, i. e., each to his particular chamber. Telemachos, also, had such a room : “ While to his lofty chamber, in full view, Built high in that magnificent palace home, 6o THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. Telemachus went up, and sought his couch, Intent on many thoughts.” When he retires, we find him going forth from the main building, and returning to it in the morning: “. . . Telemachus Rose from his bed, in presence like a god, Put on his garments, hung his trenchant sword Upon his shoulder, tied to his fair feet The shapely sandals, took his massive spear Tipped with sharp brass, and, stopping as he reached The threshold, spake to Eurycleia thus.” The Tholos, or the Vault. —To complete what ' has be'en said concerning the house, the mention of the vault seems imperative. The tholos^ like the orsothyre, is only once mentioned, and consequently affords ample opportunity for conjecture. In pre¬ paring to hang the faithless maid-servants. Telema¬ chos stretched a rope, one end of which he tied upon the wall of the court, and the other, as Homer says, “he wound about the vault.” We learn there¬ by that the vault was placed in the court, inasmuch as the hanging took place there, but we are still igno¬ rant of its use. Payne, Knight, and Hirt, suppose that the vault contained the bath-house, and this supposi¬ tion is perhaps due to the shape of the vault. But it has been noticed that, whenever any one is men¬ tioned as bathing, he is said to do this in a room near the entrance. Schreiber thinks that in the THE KEYS. 6l vault was placed the kitchen. But this view is also erroneous, inasmuch, as we shall hereafter notice, no kitchen existed in the Homeric house, and the meals were prepared upon the hearth. Others, again, main¬ tain that the vault was, according to the expression of one of them, “ a spot which is hard to be named," and which must have existed somewhere in the house. Against this comical opinion w^e have nothing to say, though it seems improbable that such a spot was adorned with pillars ; and, in fact, we prefer in this case the explanation offered by the old scholiasts. Hysichius says, The vault was really a room wherein were placed the banquet-utensils." Eustathius says, “The vault was a round building, in which were placed the useful utensils, such as plates, goblets, and drinking-cups. The Keys. —We learn from many passages that the doors during the Homeric epoch were locked with keys, but of what sort they were to this day remains doubtful, inasmuch as the poet everywhere uses the following obscure expression : “. . . She loosed With a quick touch the thong that held the ring, Put in the key, and with a careful aim Struck back the sounding bolts." The key which Penelope is said to have used was made of brass, and had an ivory handle: 4 62 THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. “So she climbed the lofty stair. Up from the hall, and took in her plump hand The fair carved key ; its wards were wrought of brass. And ivory was the handle.” The key, according to all probability, was a sort of metallic hook, just fitting into the key-hole, and fashioned exactly after its shape—wherefore its se¬ curity. First of all, a leathern strap was loosened, which covered the aforementioned key-hole, for what reason is not known. When the key entered, there seems to have been drawn by the hook itself some inside bolt, and thus the door was opened, which then creaked according to the expression of the poet: ^‘... As when a bull Roars in the field, such sound the beautiful doors. Struck with the key, gave forth, and instantly They opened to her.” According to some scholiasts, by this simile is meant that then, as in the classical times, the doors were opened toward the outside, and were so con¬ structed that they creaked in order to give informa¬ tion to the passer-by. MAN, 83 thus expresses himself: “ There are three relations essential to household authority—that of the master, the husband, and the father. • A husband should rule over his wife and children, without forgetting their proper freedom. He should rule the former politi¬ cally, the latter royally. . Different is the way that a master governs his slaves, the husband his wife, and the father his children. The slave does not have the privilege of counseling, while the wife and the chil¬ dren, to some degree, necessarily possess it.” It is evident that the above relations are positively different from those existing among the savage Ky- klops, where the man was absolute ruler both of his family and dependents. The above description of Aristotle is closely appli¬ cable to the Homeric epoch. The gentleness and no¬ bleness of family ties in Hellas, in an epoch when the rest of the world was steeped in barbarism, form one of the most remarkable pages in the social history of Greece. The Homeric hero was the admitted head of the house and of the family. He administered justice, attended to outside matters, and looked after the common interests of all. A strong feeling of love bound him to his wife and children, and he was equally loved by them in return. In time of war he left with sorrow his beloved family, to obey the voice 84 THE FAMILY. of his country, and in peace his household interests were his principal care. Hunting, bodily exercise, and political duties, occupied a secondary place. Before his marriage, the Homeric hero filled also an important position, and in the absence of his father assumed the direction of the household. At times he exercised himself in the art of war, and often spent his leisure in hunting. Thus Telemachos, during the long absence of his father Odysseus, though only just entering manhood, was recognized as the chief of the family, and his mother, the wise Penelope, first of all respected his authority. On the other hand, the liberal pursuits were in no wise neglected. In a hero, not only bodily strength and dexterity were honored, but eloquence and wis¬ dom were pre-eminently esteemed. In order that one might be called a perfect man,” he should be “In words an orator, in warlike deeds An actor.” Nestor was called happy because he had brave and intelligent sons. On the other hand, Elpenor was blamed for being deprived of these necessary advan¬ tages. Dancing, and the other refining amusements by which grace and eloquence are gained, were much cultivated: “ Stranger, thou speakest not becomingly, But like a man who recks not what he says. IVOMAN'. 85 The gods bestow not equally on all The gifts that men desire,—the grace of form, The mind, the eloquence.” It must be understood that in the above re¬ marks we have in view the higher classes of society. The laborer was, as a matter of course, occupied with his work, and the artificer with his craft. The family- relations, however, remained unchanged, and the pa¬ terfamilias exercised the same authority, whether he lived in a palace or in a hut. King or herdsman, he was the center about which turned all the family rela¬ tions, and to which all looked, not with fear, but with love and reverence. Woman. —It has already been noticed that the con¬ dition of woman during the Homeric times, and the relation of the two sexes, reveal a refined and cultivated people, and suffice to cause this nation to be pre-emi¬ nently distinguished from any other of the same period. To the keen eye of the philosophy of history, all the future glories of Hellenism become clearly mani¬ fest from the most pan-archaic times, through the un¬ erring characteristics of a people possessing all the seeds of the highest civilization. Nevertheless, phi¬ lologists, instead of just praises, instead of unalloyed admiration, severely attack the Homeric period, and call the family relations of those years barbarous and uncivilized. 5 86 THE FAMILY. It is a wonder, in fact, how men of great scholar¬ ship and of world-wide wisdom have so much de¬ parted from truth, and how, having before them the pictures of Andromache, Penelope, and Arete, they have felt no scruple in saying that the women were nothing more at that time than slaves, held for the gratification of lust, that they looked with trembling on their husbands, like the numerous concubines of an Ottoman pasha, and that their existence was a continued imprisonment and suffering in the wo¬ men’s apartments, similar to the life in an Eastern harem. The statement seems incredible, yet it is a fact that such an opinion has been expressed by De Paw, Meiners, Tholuck, and R. Wood. TruthTlmw?^ ' has had its deiendefi” also, and. Though few in num¬ ber, they proved themselves not unworthy of their task. Among these defenders we mention especially Jacobs, who replied to Tholuck; and Lenz, who re¬ futed the statements of Wood. The authors who have written on the women of the classical period lie beyond the circle of our theme. Suffice to say that it is incontestable, though extremely difficult to explain, that civilization not only made no progress whatever in this direction, from the eighth to the fourth century B. c., but ap¬ pears even to have soniewhat retrograded. Becker, WOMAN. 87 in his addition to the Charikles " of Hermann, con¬ ceals to the best of his ability this'truth, but his very efforts are a proof that he recognizes it. (^The principal censure attached to the Homeric women is, that they were deemed “ lower beings,” liv¬ ing in isolation, and wholly without the respect of their husbands. Nevertheless, facts are opposed to this position, and in many ways the consideration and the honor rendered to women become manifest. The entire Odyssey ” is nothing but a eulogistic hymn of Penelope, while her husband, in the arms of the god¬ dess, has his mind repeatedly directed to his lawful consort, whom he justly honors and worships. And what of Andromache ? Could there exist anything more charming than her relations with Hektor, and is there anywhere mentioned conjugal love purer, more ardent, and more lasting ? Hektor and Astya- nax, the husband and the child, these are the world for the young wife. Yet this best of all motherly love, in this particular case, is only of secondary impor¬ tance, and Andromache cherishes her child rather as the living pledge of her conjugal love. Now, while thus loving, how is she loved in return ? The battle was raging on the field before Ilion, and the Trojans were about to be defeated, and if there was one bar¬ rier to the mad onset of the victors—one powerful barrier—it was Hektor. But where was that famous 88 THE 'FAMILY. hero ? Hektor, whom his endangered country called, that unconquerable warrior, the only hope of the de¬ feated, forgot at that moment his country and honor, and only remembered that he was a husband and a father. Andromache having rushed forth with the infant Astyanax, as soon as the extreme danger be¬ came evident, used every possible allurement to de¬ tain the hero from the battle, of the result of which she had ominous forebodings. He wavered and seemed to see Troy captured, his child an orphan in the hands of cruel conquerors, and his beloved consort, his queen, carried off a slave to foreign climes, dishon¬ ored, and paying by long years of suffering for her brief happiness. He finally breaks away from her lov¬ ing embraces, and rushes where the contest was most hotly fought. The thought that his absence renders still more terrible the danger, inasmuch as he is the best defender of the women and children, urges him on. Hereupon is unfolded by the Skaean gates that heart¬ rending scene of departure that none can read with¬ out being moved. It can not be possible that De Paw and Wood could have had that picture before them when they censured the epoch so harshly. Now, in reminding them of, one expression only of the forsaken wife, we ask whether in it is not found, not only the evidences of a pure and constant affection, but a whole world of love and devotion?— WOMAN. 89 “ Too brave! Thy valor yet will cause thy death. Thou hast no pity on thy tender child. Nor me, unhappy one, who soon must be Thy widow ! . . . ... A happier lot were mine. If I must lose thee, to go down to earth. For I shall have no hope when thou art gone,— Nothing but sorrow. Father have I none. And no dear mother. Great Achilles slew My father when he sacked the populous town Of the Cilicians,—Thebd with high gates. • •••••• Seven brothers had I in my father’s house. And all went down to Hades in one day. . . . Hector, thou Art father and dear mother now to me. And brother, and my youthful spouse besides. In pity keep within the fortress here. Nor make thy child an orphan nor thy wife A widow.” I ‘ Besides this conjugal love, women obtained no small share of esteem and reverence from the world at large. Queen Arete, of the Phaekeans, is wor¬ shiped by all the members of her household, and is honored as a goddess by her subjects. When she ap¬ peared on the street, long-continued shouts followed her. Even in public discussions she took part, ap¬ peasing the passions and offering valuable advice. It was to her that Odysseus, by preference, applied when he sought shelterjt 90 THE FAMILY, “ . . . Then did Ulysses clasp Arete’s knees.” And he did this because, according to the words of her daughter Nausikaa— “. . . If her mood Be kindly toward thee, thou mayst hope to greet Thy friends once more, and enter yet again Thy own fair palace in thy native land.” »-Hekabe likewise was loved and honored by the people. So great, also, was the trust reposed in the virtue of woman, and such was the confidence she ' enjoyed, that, even when she failed, the gods were deemed rather the ones to have been guilty, or at least the immediate cause of drawing her from the path of virtue. Helen scorns her very self, because she brought shame upon her sex : . Hast thou seen, perhaps. That Menelaus, having overpowered The noble Alexander, seeks to bear Me, hated as I must be, to his home ? ” Common opinion, however, casts the blame on Paris, who becomes an ^ect of aversion, deserving of divine punishment: / “ . . . I am* sad at heart to hear The Trojans—they, who suffer for thy sake A thousand hardships—speak so ill of thee.” WOMAN. 91 The aged Priam, out of love for his son, says that the gods are deserving of blame, for they are the cause of so many misfortunes : “. . . I blame thee not; The blame is with the immortals, who have sent The pestilent Greeks against me." Virtuous Penelope herself defends the guilty one : “ The Argive Helen, child of Jupiter, Would ne’er have listened to a stranger’s suit And loved him, had she known that in the years To come, the warlike Greeks would bring her back To her own land. It was a deity Who prompted her to that foul wrong.” r. How preposterous the idea of the imprisonment of woman in the women’s apartments is, becomes evident from the fact that no such thing is mentioned any¬ where in the Homeric poems, while there are many definite passages in which we see the women freely mingling among the men. If the rich had private rooms, wherein they busied themselves with their maid-servants in household occupations, it does not follow that they lived isolated. Indeed, their con¬ tinuous presence in the doma would have been un¬ becoming, where the king or the ruler received his guests and occupied himself with the public affairs. Exactly the same condition of things exists at this day.' 92 THE FAMILY. The women went back and forth from the palace at pleasure. We find this expressly stated of Hekabe, Arete, and Andromache. Indeed, at the Skaean gate gathered a whole assemblage of women and maidens to learn as quickly as possible news from the battle, and the fate of their relatives and friends : And now had Hector reached the Scaean gates And beechen tree. Around him flocked the wives And daughters of the Trojans eagerly; Tidings of sons and daughters they required, And friends, and husbands.” In like manner, the women hasten to view the body of Hektor, brought back by Priam : “ ‘ O Trojan men and women, hasten forth To look on Hector, if ye e’er rejoiced To see him coming from the field alive. The pride of Troy, and all who dwell in him !' She spake, and suddenly was neither man Nor woman left within the city bounds.” / 'That the maidens frequented the streets is evident, not only from the above passages, but also from the /example of Nausikaa, who, accompanied by her maid* Servants, carried to the shore the clothing of the fam¬ ily. ) The daughters even of Keleos, King of Eleusis, in the hymn to Demeter, go forth from the well, and on their return meet with the goddess Demeter her¬ self, whom the princesses find sitting by the road, un- WOMAN. 93 der the garb of an old beggar-woman. The wife, accompanied by a friend or servant, went freely about the streets. Thus Helen goes with Deiphobos to see the wooden horse: “ . . . Thou earnest to the place Moved, as it seemed, by some divinity Who thought to give the glory of the day To Troy. Deiphobus, the godlike chief. Was with thee." It would appear, also, that the women exchanged visits. Hektor finds Hekabe on her way to visit her daughter Laodike: “. . . There he met His gentle mother on her way to seek Her fairest child, Laodice.” r (To Penelope appears in a dream her sister Iph- theme, who seldom visited her, as she was living at a great distance ; but this fact shows, nevertheless, that such visits were made^ “ Why, sister, art thou here, who ne'er before Hast come to me ? The home is far away In which thou dwellest. Thou exhortest me To cease from grieving, and to lay aside The painful thoughts that crowd into my mind And torture me who have already lost A noble-minded, lion-hearted spouse. One eminent among Achaia’s sons For every virtue, and whose fame was spread Through Hellas and through Argos." 94 THE FAMILY. In like manner the daughter of Dymas, the friend and playmate of Nausikaa, appears to her in sleep : “. . . But Pallas came As comes a breath of air, and stood beside The damsel’s head and spake. In look she seemed The daughter of the famous mariner, Dymas, a maiden whom Nausicaa loved, The playmate of her girlhood.” The hospitality which the master and the mis¬ tress lavished on their visitors we see in the visit of Thetis to Charis, the wife of Hephaestos : “. . . Charis, of the snowy veil, The beautiful, whom the great god of fire, Vulcan, had made his wife, beheld, and came Forward to meet her, seized her hand and said: * O Thetis of the flowing robe, beloved And honored, what has brought thee to our home ? Thou dost not often visit us. Come in, That I may pay the honors due a guest.’ ” But although the Homeric women freely went out from their homes, it was within them that they found their peculiar sphere. As wife, mother, and mistress, the consort of the Flomeric hero watched and directed her household affairs, assigned to the slaves their work, and paid attention to the faith¬ ful discharge of their duties. During the hours of toil, she occupied herself in weaving and embroider¬ ing, instructing the ignorant among her maid-servants. WOMAN. 95 and directing the others. It was in these occupations that the Homeric women particularly excelled ; and their work in this respect is minutely described^ Thus Helen made a peplum on which were repre¬ sented the achievements of the Trojans and of the Greeks: “. . . Helen stood Beside the coffers where the embroidered robes Wrought by her hands were laid. The glorious dame Took one and brought it forth, most beautiful In needle-work, and amplest of them all: The garment glittered like a star, and lay Below the other robes. . . .” “. . . Rosy Helen, holding up The robe, drew near, and spake to him and said: ‘ I also bring to thee, dear son, a gift. The work of Helen’s hands, which thou shalt keep In memory of her, until the day Of thy desired espousals, when thy bride Shall wear it.’ ” A similar peplum^ though not so wonderful, An¬ dromache wove: “. . . She sat In a recess of those magnificent halls. And wove a twofold web of brilliant hues. On which were scattered flowers of rare device.” Also Athene : “ Then Pallas, daughter of the god who bears The aegis, on her father’s palace-floor Let fall in dainty folds her flowing robe Of many colors, wrought by her own hand.” 96 THE FAMILY. In similar work Arete was also occupied: “ . . . Her mother sat Beside the hearth with her attendant maids, And turned the distaff loaded with a fleece." Athene herself is reported to have given the Phae- kean women skill in handiwork and beautiful design: “ . . . Some wove the web Or twirled the spindle, sitting, with a quick Light motion, like the aspen’s glancing leaves. The well-wrought tissues glistened as with oil. As far as the Phaeacian race excel In guiding their swift galleys o’er the deep. So far the women in their woven work Surpass all others.’’ According to Hesiod, there existed a superstition that a certain day was the best for such works. In fact, all the fine, soft linen, the garments of the men, the carpets, the abundance of which has already been mentioned, and all beautiful ornaments, the wife her¬ self wrought, assisted by her maid-servants. The rich¬ est pepla were partly dedicated to the gods and partly given as presents by a daughter to her father, or by a wife to her husband. Meiners justly remarks, “ The dress which Andromache gave to him was especially dear to Hektor, as it was a proof of her love for him." Many a time, also, such dresses were kept from genera¬ tion to generation, and were counted among the family treasures. The following verses which Telemachos WOMAN. 97 addresses to Penelope, and Hektor to Andromache, present a brief picture of the duties and labors of the women: “. . . ‘Now withdraw Into thy chamber; ply thy household tasks, The loom, the spindle ; bid thy maidens speed Their work.’ ” One of the chief occupations of women was the education of their children, and above all of the daughters, who learned everything from their mother. They were, indeed, under her immediate care, that they might themselves one day become good mothers and housekeepers, and for this they needed no better instructor. The women also left the family circle in order to take parts in certain feasts, either religious or social: “ ... At once the daughters of the king, And his sons’ wives, and Queen Eurydic6, Nestor’s chaste wife, and daughter eldest bom Of Clymenus, broke forth in shrilly cries.” In like manner, Hekabe, with the other women of Ilion, brings to the Akropolis a peplutn to Athene, and sacrifices twelve bullocks in behalf of the city: “ . . . ‘ But, Hector, thou depart To Troy, and seek the mother of us both. And bid her call the honored Trojan dames To where the blue-eyed Pallas has her fane, 98 THE FAMILY. In the high citadel, and with a key Open the hallowed doors, and let her bring What she shall deem the fairest of the robes, And amplest, in her palace, and the one She prizes most, and lay it on the knees Of the bright-haired Minerva. Let her make A vow to offer to the goddess there Twelve yearling heifers that have never borne The yoke, if she in mercy will regard The city, and the wives and little ones Of its defenders ; if she will protect Our sacred Ilium from the ruthless son Of Tydeus, from whose valor armies flee. And whom I deem the bravest of the Greeks.’ ” The women, of course, took part in the dances which accompanied these feasts, and Hermes is said on such an occasion to have fallen in love with Poly- mele: “. . . For once The mighty Argus-queller saw the maid Among the choir of those who danced and sang At Dian’s festival, the huntress-queen, Who bears the golden shafts ; he saw and loved And, climbing to her chamber, met by stealth The damsel, and she bore a gallant son, Eudorus, swift of foot and brave in war." Likewise Odysseus says to Nausikaa that thrice happy will her parents and brothers be— “ Beholding such a scion of their house Enter the choral dance." WOMAN. 99 It was at such feasts especially that the two sexes met and freely conversed, while both young men and young maidens danced. An instance of such a dance is furnished to us in the embellishment on the shield of Achilles; young men and young maidens danced with the arms joined together. Elsewhere, they ap¬ pear turning round in a circle, and again dancing one opposite the other. Two excellent choristers sang, and a divine musician played on a lute, the old¬ est stringed instrument of the Greeks. The maidens wore transparent veils and wreaths of flowers, while the young men carried golden, short swords: "... Blooming youths And lovely virgins, tripping to light airs, Held fast each other’s wrists. The maidens wore Fine linen robes ; the youths had tunics on Lustrous as oil, and woven daintily. The maids wore wreaths of flowers, the young men swords Of gold, in silver belts. They bounded now In a swift circle. . . . "... Then again they crossed Each other, darting to their former place. A multitude around that joyous dance Gathered, and were amused, while from the crowd Two tumblers raised their song, and flung themselves About among the band that trod the dance." Compared with the married women, the maidens of course had much less liberty, but those who think lOO THE FAMILY. that they were kept under lock and key in the upper rooms, and were ignorant of what transpired about them, are greatly in error. Such an opinion is in every respect fallacious. Not only did they form the very life of the household, dearly loving their parents and brothers and being I dearly loved in return, but they had special work as¬ signed to them, and a special round of amusements. Nausikaa lived with two maid-servants in the upper rooms, but was certainly not restricted to them. On the contrary, she had hardly risen, when we find her on her way to meet her father, addressing him in the words of charming infancy, “Dear papa.” Athene, having appeared to her in a dream, under the guise of her friend the daughter of Dymas, advised her to wash the garments of the family in the river, inas¬ much as the happy hour of her marriage was at hand; but the modest maiden, not mentioning the true cause, assigns as her reason for going to the river the neces¬ sity of cleansing the garments that her father might “ appear at councils in vestments fresh and stainless.” She adds: “ . . . Thou hast also in these halls Five sons, two wedded, three in boyhood's bloom. And ever in the dance they need attire. New from the wash.” But Alkinoos understood his daughter’s true mo¬ tive, and forthwith ordered the chariot to be made WOMAN. lOI ready according to her desire. In it was placed the linen, and the mother of Nausikaa also put in a basket “ full of many pleasant meats and flavored morsels for the day’s repast.” Then we are told that Nausikaa took— “ The scourge and showy reins, and struck the mules To urge them onward ”— with a daring befitting man, and at the same time with maidenly grace, drove the mules toward the beach— “ . . . Yet not alone, For with her went the maidens of her train.” Now let us follow her in this expedition, and let us make a closer acquaintance with this charming Ho¬ meric maiden, the ancestress of the pretty maidens of Kerkyra of to-day. There is no description in either poem that sheds fuller light upon the customs and habits of the epoch. Musing on these wonderful lines, one forgets the present, and imagines that he sees before him Alkinoos and Arete. Following the course of the chariot con¬ taining the fair-haired princess and her blooming at¬ tendants, one directs his steps toward that part of the island where to-day stretches the broad square, and, doubling the ancient harbor, approaches the beach and enjoys the charming spectacle. First the clothes are cleansed in the river and are 102 THE FAMILY. spread upon the beach, in the hot rays of the sun. After this the maidens bathe, and anoint themselves with a fragrant oil which Nausikaa’s mother gave her : “ As her daughter climbed The car, she gave into her hands a cruse Of gold with smooth anointing oil for her And her attendant maids.” Afterward they sup upon the border of the river, and, having finished, they cast the ball, while the white-armed Nausikaa sings: "... As when the archer-queen Diana, going forth among the hills,— The sides of high Taygetus or slopes Of Eurymanthus,—chases joyously Boars and fleet stags, and round her in a throng Frolic the rural nymphs, Latona's heart Is glad, for over all the rest are seen Her daughter’s head and brow, and she at once Is known among them, though they all are fair. Such was this spotless virgin ’midst her maids.” But, while these things were transpiring, there was another looker-on, the blue-eyed Athene, and by her will the ball thrown by Nausikaa to one of her maid- attendants— “ . . . missed and fell into the stream Where a deep eddy whirled. All shrieked aloud.” The noise awoke the wandering hero Odysseus, who was sleeping near by upon the beach, ignorant WOMAN. 103 whether he had been cast by the waves upon a land of savages or of hospitable men, who hold the gods in reverence ? “. . . There are voices in the air, Womanly voices as of nymphs that haunt The mountain-summits and the river-founts, And the moist, grassy meadows." He advances through the thick foliage: “ Then like a mountain-lion he went forth. That walks abroad, confiding in his strength. In rain and wind ; his eyes shoot fire; he falls On oxen, or on sheep, or forest-deer,— For hunger prompts him even to attack The flock within its closely guarded fold. Such seemed Ulysses when about to meet Those fair-haired maidens." Odysseus, on noticing the young girls, stood amazed, but they at his sudden apparition scattered in fear, not because the sight of man was unusual to them, but because the dress of the shipwrecked Odysseus resembled in every respect that of our ancestor Adam : “ Such seemed Ulysses when about to meet Those fair-haired maidens, naked as he was. But forced by strong necessity. To them His look was frightful, for his limbs were foul With sea-foam yet. To right and left they fled Along the jutting river-banks." Nausikaa alone remained— 104 THE FAMILY. “ For Pallas gave her courage, and forbade Her limbs to tremble.” Inborn modesty urged her also at first to seek flight, but, having noticed that the one standing before her « was an unfortunate man in need of aid, she set aside all other feelings, and remained, in obedience to the voice of her philanthropic heart. What gentleness and refinement of character ! To common maid-serv¬ ants foolish flight is permitted, but not to the pru¬ dent princess, whose stay not only does not wound the sentiment of shame, but inspires reverence. Odysseus remained silent before the charming maiden, ponder¬ ing— “ . . . whether to approach The bright-eyed damsel and embrace her knees And supplicate, or, keeping yet aloof. Pray her with soothing words to show the way Townward, and give him garments.” Finally he decided— “ ... to keep at distance still. And use soft words, lest, should he clasp her knees, The maid might be displeased.” He addresses her with graceful flattery, to which the maidens of to-day would hardly turn a deaf ear: “ ‘ O queen, I am thy suppliant, whether thou Be mortal or a goddess. If perchance Thou art of that immortal race who dwell In the broad heaven, thou art, I deem, most like WOAfAN'. 105 To Dian, daughter of imperial Jove, In shape, in stature, and in noble air. If mortal, a dweller of the earth. Thrice happy are thy father and his queen. Thrice happy are thy brothers; and their hearts Must overflow with gladness for thy sake. Beholding such a scion of their house Enter the choral dance. But happiest he Beyond them all, who, bringing princely gifts. Shall bear thee to his home a bride.' ” After relating the various incidents of his wander¬ ings, he finally asks for pity, adding : “ . . . ‘ And may the gods vouchsafe To thee whatever blessing thou canst wish! ’ ” This prayer found a ready response in the heart of the maiden, and, quickly calling her attendants, she says : “ . . . ‘ Stay! whither do ye flee. My handmaids, when a man appears in sight ? ' "— and blames them for their ill-timed fear, saying—ten whole centuries before Christianity— “ . . . ‘ This man comes to us A wanderer and unhappy, and to him Our cares are due. The stranger and the poor Are sent by Jove, and slight regards to them Are grateful.' " She gives the necessary orders that the stranger should receive whatever he might need; io6 THE FAMILY, “. . . ‘ Maidens, give the stranger food And drink, and take him to the river-side To bathe where there is shelter from the wind.’" The handmaids execute this command, bearing to Odysseus a cloak, a tunic, and a golden cruse of limpid oil; but the modest hero asks them to retire : “ ‘ Withdraw, ye maidens, hence, while I prepare To cleanse my shoulders from the bitter brine. And to anoint them; long have these my limbs Been unrefreshed by oil. I will not bathe Before you. I should be ashamed to stand Unclothed in presence of these bright-haired maids.’ ” After having Washed the salt spray of ocean from his back And his broad shoulders in the flowing stream, And wiped away the sea-froth from his brows ”— he anointed himself, and put on “ The garments sent him by the spotless maid.” He arranged his hair— “ Curling like blossoms of the hyacinth,” ■ and then appeared in all his manly beauty: " And, glorious in his beauty and the pride Of noble bearing, sat aloof.” Nausikaa wondered at the sudden transformation, and in her innocence wishes that Fate might give her such a husband : WOMAN. lOJ “. . . When food was placed before him, The patient chief Ulysses ate and drank Full eagerly, for he had fasted long.” After this they again yoked “ the firm-hoofed mules ” which were guided under “ the shining scourge ” of the princess, while the handmaids fol¬ lowed on foot with Ulysses. Thus far matters stood well “ in the fields ” ; but the sight of the stranger, walking with the maids in the streets of the city would have furnished scandal¬ mongers food for talk, a thing which the modest prin¬ cess justly feared: “. . . I would not bring Rude taunts upon myself, for in the crowd Are brutal men. One of the baser sort Perchance, might say, on meeting us : * What man. Handsome and lusty-limbed, is he who thus Follows Nausicaa? Where was it her luck To find him ? Will he be her husband yet ? ’ ” Again, others would say: “ ‘ Perhaps she brings some wanderer from his ship, A stranger from strange lands; for we have here No neighbors; or, perhaps, it is a god Called down, by fervent prayer, from heaven, to dwell Henceforth with her ! 'Tis well if she have found A husband elsewhere, since at home she meets Her many noble wooers with disdain; They are Phaeacians.’ ” I I 08 the family. \ She adds, “ Thus the crowd would say, and it would bring reproach upon my name.” This, how¬ ever, in no wise frightens Nausikaa. Near the wall of the city there was a beautiful grove of poplars, where a crystal brook flowed through a green mead¬ ow. There she leaves the stranger as far from the town as one could hear a shout,” until she might reach the palace and prepare for his reception. This inimitable picture was used as a powerful weapon by writers bent on attacking the Homeric period. How is it, they say, that the simple appearance of Nausikaa in the streets with a stranger could suffice to call forth such scandal ? Here is evident proof that the maidens lived isolated and under strict surveillance. But is it customary for young ladies to go about the streets accompanied by utter strangers ? At any rate, Nausikaa says : “ ‘ I, too, would blame another who should do The like, and while her parents were alive. Without their knowledge should consort with men Before her marriage.’ ” ' Therefore, she regards it unbecoming to associate with strangers, in the absence of her parents or friends ; no one, however, was disposed to object to such a meeting in the presence of her relatives. Such are the results of a superficial examination of facts. Reading for the first time the above pas- WOMAN. 109 sage, one discovers, perhaps, a certain apparently un¬ necessary strictness toward the women—a strictness, however, but little greater than that even now ex¬ isting in many highly civilized European communi¬ ties. A closer study of the scene will, however, re¬ move w'hat might otherwise prove an erroneous im¬ pression. He who treats of the social condition and civilization of a certain epoch, has no right to base his opinions upon isolated passages even of the most distinguished authors. Only the careful study of all the relations existing at the period under considera¬ tion will furnish a correct understanding, and facili¬ tate the just estimation of definite events. The occupations of the maidens were about the same as those of their mothers, with the exception that the mistress had the general oversight and direc¬ tion. As it has been elsewhere noticed, the daughters of King Keleos went themselves to draw water from the spring. So also the daughter of the king of the Laestrigonians : “ . . . On their way they met, Before the town, a damsel with an ewer,— The stately daughter of Antiphates, The Laestrigonian, who was coming down To where Artacia’s smoothly flowing fount Gave water for the city.” Nausikaa and her maid-servants washed the clothes of the family. The mistress of the house herself 6 no THE FAMILY. shared in this duty; and we are told that near Troy there existed springs of cold and warm water : “ . . . They passed the Mount of View, And the wind-beaten fig-tree, and they ran Along the public way by which the wall Was skirted, till they came where from the ground The two fair springs of eddying Xanthus rise,— One pouring a warm stream, from which ascends And spreads a vapor like a smoke from fire; The other, even in summer, sending forth A current cold as hail, or snow, or ice; And there were broad stone basins, fairly wrought. At which, in time of peace, before the Greeks Had landed on the plain, the Trojan dames And their fair daughters washed their sumptuous robes.” It appears that the maidens supped in their own sleeping-rooms, and there the old nurse spread supper for Nausikaa : “ . . . ’Twas she who reared White-armed Nausicaa in the royal halls. Tended her hearth, and dressed her evening meal.” This goes to show that the mistress of the house ate with her husband, inasmuch as, otherwise, the daughters would have shared the meal. It has al¬ ready been noticed that such was really the case with Helen and Penelope; elsewhere we find all the mem¬ bers of the family of Aeolos—male and female—din¬ ing together: WOMAN. Ill “ . . . ‘ I took a herald and a friend, And, hastening to the sumptuous palace-halls Of Aeolus, I found him with his wife And children banqueting.' ” Alkinoos also says to Odysseus: “. . . ‘ Heed my words. And speak of them within thy palace-halls To other heroes when thou banquetest Beside thy wife and children.’ ” Beauty was the general characteristic of the Ho¬ meric women ; and the poet speaks of “ Hellas, full of lovely maids ” ; and of Achaia, famed for lovely dames ” ; and of Sparta, “ the abode of lovely women.” Other terms of praise are, “ the bright-eyed maidens,” “ rosy-cheeked,” long-haired,” “ silver-footed,” etc. The fact that the women preserved their beauty to an advanced age is a convincing proof of the purity of their life during that epoch. Penelope, although long passed her girlhood, is surrounded by suitors ; and, while she complains that her beauty has withered, not through time, but on account of her sorrows, she is, nevertheless, compared to Aphrodite and Artemis. Helen, also, after her return from Troy, is called the most beautiful of women. Meiners blames the Greeks for having waged the entire Trojan war to recover a woman—old and worn out—for such was Helen, he says, at that time. He simply copies Lucian in this opinion. But jesting is one of the characteristics II 2 THE FAMILY, of that author, and we are astonished that Meiners should take seriously the pleasantries of Lucian. The cause of the Trojan expedition was not the desire of recovering the love-beguiled Helen, but the thirst to avenge insulted honor. Again, Meiners is seriously in error in calling Helen a worn-out old woman ; for, after the capture of Troy, she was only about thirty years old. Notice, also, the inimitable scene at the Skaean gates, where we find the city fathers assembled, and so much moved by the divine beauty of the ap¬ proaching Helen, that they say that both they and Troy were justly exposed to the fated destruction on account of such a woman : “ Small blame is theirs, if both the Trojan knights And brazen-mailed Achaians have endured So long so many evils for the sake Of that one woman. She is wholly like In feature to the deathless goddesses.” Intelligence, wit, and vivacity in the women were also much praised. Thus it is said of Arete : “ . . . Never does she fail In wise discernment, but decides disputes Kindly and justly between man and man.” Penelope furnishes us with an example of surpass¬ ing wit and of shrewdness in the invention of the world-renowned web, which for four whole years kept the suitors at bay. Antinoos says of her: WOMAN. 113 “ ‘ But if she still go on to treat the sons Of Greece with such despite, too confident In gifts which Pallas has bestowed on her So richly, noble arts, and faculties Of mind, and crafty shifts, beyond all those Of whom we ever heard that lived of yore. The bright-haired ladies of the Achaian race. Tyro, Alcmena, and Mycen^, famed For glossy tresses, none of them endowed As is Penelope.’ ” On the other hand, the weakness and cowardice of the women are commonly recognized, and Homer usu¬ ally calls them cowards : “ ‘ Leave wars and battle, goddess. Is it not Enough that thou delude weak womankind ? • #••••• Archer and railer! proud of thy smart bow. And ogler of the women! . . . Thou dost idly boast. . . . It is as if a w^oman or a child Had struck me. Lightly falls the w^eapon-stroke Of an unwarlike weakling.’ ” There are, however, many exceptions to this. Thus on the shield of Achilles there was engraved a cap¬ tured city, the walls of which were defended by men, women, and children: “ . . . Their beloved wives meanwhile. And their young children, stood and watched the walls. With aged men among them, while the youths Marched on.” CHAPTER II. Love. Love. —Wood and other authors, who find little to praise in the Homeric epoch, maintain that love in its higher and nobler relations did not then exist, but the coarser instincts alone bound together the two sexes. It will be shown that this censure is scarcely justified. No doubt, in that healthy and heroic pe¬ riod, what is now known as Platonic love was unusual. The so-called “ divine passion,” the passion that ener¬ vates the heart, is a product of more advanced civili¬ zation, and befits rather the knightly centuries de¬ scribed in novels. But, granting this, the result at which Wood has arrived does not follow. Was love unknown during the Homeric or any other epoch ? If so, wherein could have existed the strong ties of society ? Why did Penelope remain firm for twenty years in the face of a thousand dangers, that she might continue faith¬ ful to her husband, and this with a number of suitors « at her feet ? Why did Odysseus himself after so many LOFE. trials and wanderings, remember and yearn for his lawful consort, even in the fond embraces of Kalypso and Kirke ? The mere mention of the pure and un¬ bounded love of Hektor and Andromache, and the heart-rending lamentations of the wife over the body of the fallen hero, suffice, we believe, to demonstrate the fallacy of such a charge. The love of Paris and Helen, the basis itself of the ‘‘Iliad,” what else can it be, asks Wood, than the de¬ sire for unlawful pleasure ? The answer would seem easy, and it may be per¬ mitted to doubt that Helen was actuated by such a motive only. Most bitterly afterward did she repent of her error, in abandoning her husband whom she honored, her child that she adored, her home which she pined for, to run away with a stranger, thus ex¬ changing all the best gifts of life for shame ! Even the many misfortunes which Paris drew upon himself, upon his family and country, can not be otherwise ex¬ plained, unless he was carried away by an all-consum¬ ing love for the most beautiful of women—a love that took root in his heart at the time of his sojourn with her in the absence of her husband ? It is true that the two fugitives during the first days of their flight anchored at the island Kranae, lying off Lakonia, the green and fresh groves of which were best suited for the passionate love that possessed their souls. But ii6 THE FAMILY. why should one wonder at this, and what worshiper of ethereal love could persuade us that, if he had sailed with beautiful Helen along that enchanting coast, there would have been no danger of loitering ? Before thus severely attacking the Homeric period, let the critic compare it with the civilization of to-day which we so much admire. The fact that Paris and Helen were bound together by a true, even if guilty, love, is manifest from their long and faithful living together in the midst of such direful misfortunes. Helen had moments of repentance, and was con¬ stantly troubled by the voice of conscience ; and she thus chides Paris on his return from an unsuccessful combat with Menelaos : “ ‘ Com’st thou from battle ? Rather would that thou Hadst perished by the mighty hand of him Who was my husband ! ’ ” But how does Paris, who sacrifices everything to love, answer her ?— “ . . . ‘ Woman, chide me not Thus harshly. True it is, that, with the aid Of Pallas, Menelaus hath obtained The victory; but I may vanquish him . In turn, for we have also gods with us. Give we the hour to dalliance; never yet Have I so strongly proved the power of love,— Not even when I bore thee from thy home . In pleasant Lacedaemon, traversing LOF£. 117 The deep in my good ships, and in the isle Of Cranae made thee mine,—such glow of love Possesses me, and sweetness of desire.’ ” How many lovers of to-day have such persuasive arguments at their command ! Who can deny that the love of Kleopatra to Phoibos was most sincere ? “. . . The honored pair Within the palace used to call their child Alcyone ; for when the archer-god Apollo, from her husband bore away The mother, Cleopatra sadly wailed. As wails the halcyon ”— or of Ariadne to Theseus ? or of Medea, who sacrificed everything to follow Jason ? Notice, also, the following beautiful lines : “ . . . ‘ Not with him May I hold parley from a tree or rock. As youths and maidens with each other hold Light converse.’ ” What else can Homer mean than clandestine meet¬ ings, under the shade of oak-trees, amid the fresh verdure of the open fields, where graze peacefully the flocks of the two lovers ? The ardent whisper of pas¬ sionate longing, thus beautifully expressed by the words “ light converse,” in no wise softens the stern accuser of the Homeric period. In the relations of Achilles to Briseis, although not limited to Platonic ii8 THE FAMILY. expressions of eternal constancy, can there not be dis¬ cerned a trace of true and suffering love ? His wrath on account of an unjust act, and his dispute with Agamemnon, have certainly contributed to the deadly anger of the king of the Myrmidons. But can the bitter tears which Achilles sheds when the maiden is taken away be explained in this way, or his persist¬ ence in the face of the results of his absence, unless his heart was gnawed by a true and sleepless pas-, sion? There is no doubt that the Homeric period was wanting in the elaborate sentimentality of modern customs, and that, not recognizing the necessity of concealing the meaning under words of different sig¬ nification, it expressed the same in complete simplici¬ ty. But are we, perchance, justified in calling it, for this, immodest and semi-barbarous; and do we not, on the contrary, owe a just tribute of admiration to the complete purity of the sentiments of those times ? Eve was covered with a fig-leaf only after having tasted the fruit of knowledge, and we believe that there was no lack of modesty in the lightly-clad Aphrodite or some other contemporary beauty under her transparent and rich silks. A clear example of the inborn modesty of that epoch Odysseus himself furnished, when he required the maid-servants of Nausikaa to withdraw, although LOF£. 119 the innocent custom of the epoch permitted the con¬ trary. Notice, also, what Hera says, when the love- possessed Zeus carried her toward the peaks of Mount Ida: “ ‘ Importunate Satumius, what is this That thou hast said ? If on the summit height Of Ida we recline, where all around Is open to the sight, how will it be Should any of the ever-living gods Behold us sleeping, and to all the rest Declare it ? I could never, rising thence. Enter again thy palace, save with shame. Yet if thou truly speakest thy desire. Thou hast a marriage-chamber of thine own.’ ” She is finally persuaded to obey the will of Zeus, when the latter promised to conceal the unusual couch with a golden cloud : “. . . ‘I shall throw A golden cloud around us, which the sun Himself can not look through, although his eye Is piercing, far beyond all other eyes.’ ” What inimitable gentleness in the expression of love which the king of the gods addresses to his hesi¬ tating wife : “ . . . ‘ Never yet Did love of goddess or of mortal maid Possess and overcome my heart as now.’ ” On another occasion, when Ares and Aphrodite are captured by crafty Hephaestos, and all the gods 120 THE FAMILY. hasten to his brazen-covered “ doma ” to enjoy the sufferings of the lovers, the goddesses, who were not over-distinguished for modesty, nevertheless remain from shame in their own habitations : “. . . The goddesses, Through womanly reserve, remained at home." We conclude this chapter with the words of Hayne: “ I admire the modesty of the Homeric verses, which, for those times, were indeed extremely pure." CHAPTER III. Marriage—Courtship—The gifts—The nuptials—Second marriage —Marital faithlessness—Blood-marriages—Concubines, Marriage. —When a people accepts lawful mar¬ riage, the foundation of family, and consequently of society, and is content with monogamy, it is justly considered as having attained a high degree of civili¬ zation. We find the above in the Homeric epoch an invio¬ lable custom handed down by tradition. The sacred¬ ness of marriage is manifest throughout the epoch. The gods themselves were deemed protectors of mar¬ riage, and were said to bestow on mortals their wives, and to bless the union of those they loved : “. . . Saturnius has bestowed, Both at the birth-hour and in wedded life. His blessing.” They also were supposed to decide upon the num¬ ber of children to be born in each family, and, accord¬ ing to the poet, they gave these as gifts to the mother: 122 THE FAMILY. “ For not to Helen had the gods vouchsafed Yet other offspring, after she had brought A lovely daughter forth, Hermione, Like golden Venus both in face and form.” Marriage was generally considered a happiness, and we find the greater part of the heroes married: “ . . . Every good man loves And cherishes his spouse.” The marriage of a god was deemed a peculiarly happy event, over which all Nature rejoiced. We have an inimitable example of this in the conversation on Mount Ida, between Zeus and Hera, when there sprouted from the ground the most beautiful flowers, in order to form the divine couch : “ The son of Saturn spake, and took his wife Into his arms, while underneath the pair The sacred Earth threw up her freshest herbs,— The dewy lotus and the crocus-flower. And thick and soft the hyacinth. All these Upbore them from the ground. Upon this couch They lay, while o’er them a bright, golden cloud . Gathered, and shed its drops of glistening dew.” The following lines also, which Odysseus addressed to Nausikaa when he certainly recalled to himself Penelope, are justly considered as the most accurate definition of happy marriage : MARRIAGE. 123 “ ‘ There is no better, no more blessed state. Than when the wife and husband in accord Order their household lovingly. Then those Repine who hate them, those who wish them well Rejoice, and they themselves the most of all.’ " Even Hesiod himself, the inveterate woman-hater, recognizes that there is no more precious treasure than a virtuous wife. The youths and the maidens were married at a blooming age,” whence the expression “ a blooming marriage.” Thus Laertes gives his daughter Ktimene in marriage when still “ in the pleasant years of youth,” and it has already been noticed that while Nausikaa was still a young girl the noblest of the Phaekeans sought her hand. The soundest and best advice which Hesiod gives his brother is that concerning his mar¬ riage—to take a wife as soon as he shall have ap¬ proached his thirtieth year. He adds that, having become enamored of a maiden of thirteen years, and having conducted her to his home, he will do well to marry her. There are mentioned in Homer, however, couples of the same age, and the fact which especially shows that the maiden wife ” was honored, is mani¬ fest from the expression, so frequently met with, law¬ ful or maiden wife.” Another evidence of the purity of the customs of the time is found in the expression ** maiden husband,” the meaning of which is obvious. 124 . THE FAMIL Y, A few have blamed the Homeric period on the ground that the young girl was not at all consulted in the choice of her husband. Jt is true that the latter was chosen by the parents, but nowhere in the poems do we find an instance of opposition from the girl. It is asking too much to claim as a custom in Homer, what to this day is the subject of much doubt, and is not as yet definitely understood. The maidens, believing in the love and enlightened experience of their parents, joyfully accepted the husband chosen by them, and had as their sole object the establishment of his hap¬ piness. We have many examples of this absolute authority of the parents. The King of Lykia gave his daughter to Bellerophon : “ He kept him near him, giv¬ ing him 'to wife his daughter.” Alkinoos proposed Nausikaa to Odysseus, without first consulting her, nor even advising with his wife Arete : “. . . T could wish That, being as thou art, and of like mind With me, thou wouldst receive to be thy bride My daughter, and be called my son-in-law, And here abide.’ ” Achilles also, saying that marriage with any one of the noble-born from among the Achaean women was easy for him, and the suitors maintaining that there were many women in Hellas the possession of whom could be'obtained without difficulty, furnish us ex- MARRIAGE. 125 amples that the consent of the parents only was neces¬ sary for the accomplishment of marriage. Often, however, the acquiescence of the brothers and of the near male relatives was sought for. There are instances, however, which show us that not only for the maidens, but for the sons also, the consent of the parents was required. Thus Menelaos, on one and the same day, gives in marriage his son and daughter. In like manner Achilles, in refusing one of the daughters of Agamemnon, together with the brilliant dowry offered him, says that the choice of a bride rests with his aged father. “ . . . ‘ I will wed No child of Agamemnon. Even though She vied with golden Venus in her charms. And with the blue-eyed Pallas in her skill, I would not wed her. Let him choose among The Greeks a fitter husband,—one whose rule Is wider than my own. For if the gods Preserve me, and I reach my home again, My father, Peleus, will bestow on me A consort.’ ” There is only one passage extant where it is shown that, on exceptional occasions, the preference of the women received due consideration; “ . . . ‘ Send thy mother hence. Requiring that she w'ed the suitor whom Her father chooses or herself prefers.’ ” 126 THE FAMILY. But, as Penelope is meant in the above passage, it is evident that she possessed much more liberty than was usually enjoyed by a single woman. Courtship. —It has been noticed that the maiden “ hardly out of her teens ” was surrounded by suitors. Antiquity furnishes us with many examples. We men¬ tion only that of Penelope, the beautiful Helen, whom the leaders of all of Hellas wooed, and Nausikaa, whom the noblest of the Phaekeans asked in marriage. It is, of course, understood that the number and worth of the suitors depended upon the nobility and beauty of the maiden. We have here an important differ¬ ence between our civilized age and the “ so-called ” semi-civilized Homeric epoch ; and this difference is in nowise flattering to us. Beauty and noble birth are certainly much esteemed to-day—in theory; but, in the eyes of modern folks, Medea, who took the golden fleece from Kolchis, would have been more eligible than the noble-born Nausikaa or the beauti¬ ful Helen. Matters were different ten centuries before Christ. At that time the riches of the bride were of little weight, and the contest among her suitors was waged by means of valuable presents, which they offered either to the maiden herself, or to her parents and relatives, in order to win their good-will and consent. These presents consisted of oxen, or of rich utensils COURTSHIP. 127 wrought of gold. Such were the presents which Penel¬ ope herself claims from those seeking her hand. Besides, it would seem that the suitors were often obliged to win their lady-love by deeds of valor and heroism, like the knights of the middle ages. Thus, Neleus promised his beautiful daughter, Pero, to the one who would drive off from Phylake the oxen of Iphikles : “ She brought forth Pero also, marvellous In beauty, wooed by all the region round ; But Neleus would bestow the maid on none Save him who should drive off from Phylacd The beeves, broad-fronted and with crooked horns, Of valiant Iphicles—a difficult task.” Orthryoneus promises that, if Kassandra should be given him, the Achaians should be driven from Troy; wherefore he is bitterly blamed by Diomedes, after the defeat near the ships : “ He slew Orthryoneus, who just before, Drawn by the rumor of the war, had left Cabesus, and now made a lover's suit For Priam’s fairest daughter. Without dower He sought to wed Cassandra, promising A vast exploit,—to drive the Greeks from Troy, In spite of all their valor.” Penelope also consents to accept the suitor who possessed sufficient strength to bend the bow of Odys¬ seus : 128 THE FAMILY. “ . . . ‘ I bring to you The mighty bow that great Ulysses bore. Whoe’er among you he may be whose hand Shall bend this bow, and send through these twelve rings An arrow, him I follow hence, and leave The beautiful abode of my young years.’ ” The similarity of this Homeric custom to that of the middle ages in Europe both the German and French writers notice, saying that, under this view, Tasso and the other poets of the Latin race become descendants of the Grecian bard. The Gifts. — The responsibilities of the suitor were by no means as yet completed. After the best among the rivals was definitely chosen, he won, final¬ ly, his bride by means of new gifts, much more pre¬ cious than the first : “ . . . ' But happiest he Beyond them all, who, bringing princely gifts. Shall bear thee to his home a bride.’ ” How rich these gifts were is evident from the case of Iphidamas, who offered to his wife one hundred oxen and one thousand sheep and goats : “ Unhappy youth ! he slept an iron sleep,— Slain fighting for his country, far away From the young virgin bride yet scarcely his. For whom large marriage-gifts he made,—of beeves A hundred—and had promised from the flocks That thronged his fields a thousand sheep and goats.” THE GIFTS. 129 It would appear that the value of these marriage- gifts was not of little weight, at least in the eyes of the parents, often securing success to the one most generously disposed, inasmuch as Athene says to Te¬ lemachos that the choice of Eurymachos, as he was the richest of the suitors, will be asked of Penelope by her parents : “ . . . ‘ For now Her father and her brothers counsel her To wed Eurymachus, whose gifts exceed Those of the other suitors, and besides He offers a yet richer bridal dower.’ ” But, on the other hand, noble Penelope, despising mere material advantages, prefers Amphinomos, who was pre-eminent for wisdom and intelligence: “ . . . Penelope Liked best his words, for generous was his thought.” Be it said, to the honor of that age, that virtue alone was often deemed a sufficient advantage, for Odysseus, among the many events which he relates to Eumaeos, says to him that, though a poor man, he married— “ . . . ‘ My valor won A bride, the daughter of a wealthy house,— For I was not an idler, nor in war A coward.’ ” It would seem that parents sometimes furnished dowry for their daughters. An example of such a 130 THE FAMILY. dowry is given in the offers made to Achilles by Agamemnon, who said: " ‘ Nor need he to endow The bride, for I will give an ampler dower Than ever father to his daughter gave,— Seven cities with thronged streets.’ ” The King of the Lykians gives to Bellerophon his daughter and one half of his kingdom : “ He kept him near him, giving him to wife His daughter, and dividing with him all His kingly honors.” Telemachos also says that, if he should dismiss his mother, it would be hard, indeed, to return to her father the dowry ; whereby it may be seen that, in such a case, the dowry was returned to the parents : “ ‘ And should I, on my own accord and will. Dismiss my mother, I must make perforce Icarius large amends, and that were hard.' ” Hephaestos himself also bears witness to this, for, when deceived by Aphrodite, he demands the restora¬ tion of the marriage-gifts which he gave for the fair but false Kytherean : “ . . . ‘ The net and chains Will hold them, still her father shall restore All the large gifts which, on our marriage-day, I gave him to possess the impudent minx. His daughter, who is fair, indeed, but false.’ ” THE NUPTIALS. 131 The Nuptials. The customs which prevailed during the joyful celebration of marriage were as follows : A magnificent banquet was served in the house of the bride’s father, for which, however, the bridegroom furnished the necessary oxen and sheep. Menelaos was busy preparing a banquet of this sort, for the double marriage of his son and daughter, at the time when Telemachos arrived in Sparta. The bride, richly attired, was present at the banquet: “ The glorious Menelaus, whom they found Within, and at a wedding banquet, made Both for his blameless daughter and his son, And many guests.” In like manner, Helen presents, in remembrance, to Telemachos a magnificent peplum, requesting him to adorn with it his future bride. The invited guests came richly attired. Among them were distinguished the particular friends of the bride, and her compan¬ ions, who remained by her and filled the position of bridesmaids. Dancing, to the sound of the lyre and song, fol¬ lowed the banquet. When Odysseus was preparing to kill the suitors, in order that the affair might not become “known throughout the land,” he contrived a happy stratagem, and pretended that a wedding was being celebrated in the palace. The orders which he 132 THE FAMILY. gives to the co-workers of his revenge are especially instructive: “ Then will I tell thee what I deem most wise. First take the bath, and then array yourselves In tunics, bid the palace-maidens choose Fresh garments ; let the godlike bard, who bears The clear-toned harp, be leader, and strike up A melody to prompt the festive dance. That all may say who hear it from without,— Whether the passers-by or dwellers near,— ‘ It is a wedding.’ ” Everything was carried out in accordance with the above instructions : “ The spacious pile resounded to the steps Of men and shapely women in their mirth ”— while those without, caught in the snare, blamed Pe¬ nelope, and said : “ ‘ Some one, no doubt, has made the long-wooed queen His bride at last; a worthless woman she, Who could not, for the husband of her youth. Keep his fair palace till he came again.’ ” In the evening, finally, the bride was conducted in pomp, and covered with a peplum, to the house, or private room, of the bridegroom. Beautiful women carrying lighted torches headed the procession, and crowds of dancers followed in the rear, while children and maidens sang, to the accompaniment of the lyre, lively airs suited for the occasion. THE NUPTIALS, 133 Concerning the apparel, Athene says to Nausikaa : “ . . , ‘ Thy magnificent robes Lie still neglected, though thy marriage-day Is near, when thou art to array thyself In seemly garments, and bestow the like On those who lead thee to the bridal rite.’ ” It may be surmised, from the above, that there were a few who conducted the bride, and upon whom she bestowed suitable garments. Perhaps they sup¬ ported her on either side, as the custom is to this day in Greece. Usually the newly-married couple remained in the paternal mansion, and thus contributed to the establishment of a great patriarchal family. In such a case, as has been already noticed, the young hus¬ band simply erected a private room in the great court. Thus, the newly-wedded sons of Alkinods continued to dwell in the common palace, as did also the sons and sons-in-law of Priam and of Nestor. There were exceptions to the above rule, as the bridegroom often built his own residence. Hektor and Paris each lived in his own private house, though sit¬ uated near the palace of Priam. It would appear that the building of an additional room in the house by the groom was a general custom, which explains the pathetic expression of Homer, in reference to re¬ cently-married people who had fallen in battle, that they had left their abode but half completed. 7 134 THE FAMILY. The following lines addressed by Euphorbos to Menelaos, after the death of Patroklos, describe elo¬ quently the picture of isolation and of mourning which follows such a mishap : “ . . . ‘ Now is my time, Jove-nurtured Menelaus, to avenge My brother, slain by thee, and over whom Thou utteredst such swelling words, whose wife. In her new bridal-chamber thou hast made A widow, and upon her parents brought Mourning and endless sorrow.’ ” There were times, also, when the bride followed her husband to a foreign land. Thus Menelaos, having given in marriage his daughter to the son of Achilles, sends her to his son-in-law in the city of the Myrmidons : “ . . . Her he must send away, Bride of the son of that invincible chief, Achilles.” “ . . . He was now Sending her forth, with steeds and cars, to reach The noble city of the Myrmidons, Where ruled her consort.” It will be perceived, from the above, that the bridegroom was not necessarily present during the ceremony, and that the celebration of the marriage- rite was permitted under exceptional circumstances, even when one of the contracting parties was absent. SECOND MARRIAGE. 135 ;vef- Second Marriage. —There is no doubt whatev that a second marriage was deemed lawful during th/ Homeric times. This is sufficiently shown from the example of Penelope, who, when Odysseus was believed to have perished, was thought to have acquired there¬ by the right to celebrate a second marriage. But Odysseus himself, at the moment of his departure, taking hold of her by the right hand, tells her: “ . . . ‘ When thou shalt see My son a bearded man, take to thyself A husband, whom thou wilt, and leave thy house.’ ” However, although lawful, the second marriage was diametrically opposed to the sentiments of the- Homeric epoch, on which account it was commonly scorned. This sentiment is clearly shown from the example of Helen, who, although she had legalized her bonds with Paris, is pardoned neither by the gods nor by men. At any rate, it was that union which called forth all the subsequent misfortunes, although her pre-existing faithlessness and flight were especially criminal. She who was twice married was thought to show a cruelty of heart, because she so easily forgot the former friend and companion of her youth. The affair was far more serious if children existed by the first marriage. Whoever entered new bonds was considered to commit an injustice toward these 136 THE FAMILY. unfortunate beings, and to rob them of a part of their just rights, by reason of “the new shoots” of the second marriage. This was especially the case as re¬ gards the mother, inasmuch as she, by marrying anew, brought to her husband, and to the children born by him, her entire dowry. The above sentiments Eumaeus vividly describes : “ . . . ‘ What a wife will do Thou knowest. ’Tis her pleasure to increase The riches of the man whom she has wed. Care of her former children she has none, Nor memory of the husband whom she took While yet a maid, and who is in his grave ; Of these she never speaks.’ ” Penelope, also, though urged to a second marriage, even by her own husband, under certain conditions, refuses to accede to this : “. , . keeping still Her constant reverence for her husband’s bed.” The woman contracting a second marriage appears to have first returned to her father, to whom was sur¬ rendered by the sons or other relatives the dowry given to the dead husband. Her father gave her away a second time, the same customs being repeated exactly as in the first marriage. The bride received anew the usual gifts as well as a dowry, and the father prepared the banquet, for which the prospective hus- MARITAL FAITHLESSNESS. 137 band furnished all the necessaries. It is said of Pe¬ nelope : “ . . . ‘ Command The suitors all to separate for their homes ; And if thy mother’s mind be bent to wed, Let her return to where her father dwells, A mighty prince, and there they will appoint Magnificent nuptials, and an ample dower Such as should honor a belovM child.' ” The only difference apparent during this occasion was the diminution of the authority of the parents as to the choice of a husband. No mention whatever is made of a third marriage, while divorce seems to have been entirely unknown. Hephaestos himself, on capturing the faithless Aphro¬ dite, in the very act, demands, indeed, the return of the rich presents which he paid for her, and finally accepts the guarantee of Poseidon; but he does not mention as possible his separation from the laughter- loving Aphrodite. Marital Faithlessness. —From all that has been said concerning marriage, and the refined sentiments which we have found developed to so high a degree during the Homeric period, it may be readily under¬ stood that any violation of its sanctity was considered a revolting crime. Poets in subsequent years took for their theme such crimes, which they developed upon the stage, to the horror of passing generations. THE FAMILY. 138 We have only to recall the case of Klytaemnestra, who withstood all temptations for a long time, but, finally, abandoned by all, lost the protector of her honor, the bard whom her husband Agamemnon had left to watch over her. Being thus deprived of every noble influence, she was left exposed to temptation, and finally succumbed: “ At first The noble Clytaemnestra turned away With horror from the crime, for yet her heart Was right, and by her side there stood a bard With whom Atrides, when he went to Troy, Had left his wife, with many an earnest charge.” But how fearful was the punishment that resulted, how irreconcilable was divine justice, that appeared under the personification of her own son ! The ter¬ rible cry which she uttered when she felt the filial sword plunged into her heart, transmitted by the genius of Sophokles, appears still ringing through the centuries, as the highest expression of tragical suffer¬ ing. Her son Orestes is publicly praised, in the coun¬ cil of the gods, by Zeus and Athene, for the murder of his mother : “ ‘ How strange it is that mortals blame the gods. And say that we inflict the ills they bear. When they, by their own folly, and against The will of Fate, bring sorrow on themselves ! As late Aegisthus, unconstrained by Fate, MARITAL FAITHLESSNESS, 139 Married the queen of Atreus’ son, and slew The husband just returned from war. Yet well He knew the bitter penalty, for we Warned him, . . . Bidding him neither slay the chief nor woo His queen. . . . ... So perish all Guilty of deeds like his! ’ " The act of Klytaemnestra is thus bitterly con¬ demned : “ . . . ‘ The gods Themselves shall frame, for those who dwell on earth. Sweet strains in praise of sage Penelope. Not such was she who treacherously slew The husband of her youth. . . . . . . Her name among mankind Shall be the hateful burden of a song; And great is the dishonor it has brought On women, even the faithful and the good.’ ” Still more terrible is the punishment of Aegisthos, the cause of these evils. His body is left unburied, and is lacerated by dogs and birds of prey. This was the highest expression of punishment among mankind, involving the chastisement of the guilty both during life and after death, for the soul was not permitted to cross the river Achaeron as long as the body remained unburied. Few, indeed, were the crimes upon which such a punishment was inflicted, while the words of Homer depict, in sombre colors, the shudder which 140 THE FAMILY. the entire Hellenic world felt on account of this fear¬ ful crime : “ . . . He had never flung The loose earth on his corpse, but dogs and birds Had preyed upon it, lying in the fields Far from the city, and no woman’s voice Of all the Greeks had raised the wail for him. Great was the crime he plotted." • The punishment of Thyestes, who corrupted the wife of Atreus, was of a different nature, though equally horrible, inasmuch as he was compelled by the wronged husband to eat his own children. Phoenix also, who, at the suggestion of his jealous mother, corrupted his father’s concubine, was persecuted by the Furies : “ ‘ My father knew it, and, with many a curse, Invoked the hateful Furies to forbid That any child, who owed his birth to me, Should ever sit upon his knees.' ” But what need is there to seek further instances, when that of Helen herself stands forth so pre-emi¬ nently? How great was her repentance, and how great the punishment that followed her guilt! The whole of Hellas rushed to arms, and, for many an Olympiad, the noblest blood of two peoples was shed lavishly, that the stain upon the nuptial couch of Menelaos might be washed away. The wronged hus- MARITAL FAITHLESSNESS. 141 band invokes the wrath of the gods against Paris, and even his brother Hektor severely blames the seducer: “ . . . ‘ O luckless Paris, nobly formed, Yet woman-follower and seducer! Thou Shouldst never have been bom, or else at best. Have died unwedded ; better were it far. Than thus to be a scandal and a scorn To all who look on thee. . . . A mischief to thy father and to us. And all the people, to our foes a joy. And a disgrace to thee. . . . Surely the sons of Troy are faint of heart, Else hadst thou, for the evil thou hast wrought. Been laid beneath a coverlet of stone.’ ” The punishment of being stoned to death is still inflicted among Eastern nations upon those who vio¬ late the marriage-bond. In Hellas, however, where the customs were far less barbarous, the one wronged was often satisfied by the payment of money. It has already been noticed that Hephaestos, on a similar occasion, was content with the return to him of all gifts given to the father of his faithless consort. Meiners, who never lets an opportunity of fault-find¬ ing escape, severely censures the lame god for his mercenary act, which he deems a proof of the great license in morals. First of all, however, we remind him that the customs of the gods and those of men are represented by the poet as altogether different. 142 THE FAMILY, It suffices to notice only the contrast between the guilt of Aphrodite and of Helen. Besides, the blame attached to the Homeric period seems altogether un¬ justifiable in regard to a custom which is still extant in modern epochs and among civilized people. Pass¬ ing over other instances, we mention only that of his own country, Germany, and we direct him to the an¬ cient code, “ Karolina,” wherein is stated the fine which, on similar occasions, was paid by the guilty to the wronged husband. It is also curious that the idea that the honor of the husband depends upon the conduct of the wife— an idea which, though scarcely logical, has become so general in society to-day—already existed during the Homeric period. On hearing Hephaestos complain- 'ing— “ ‘Jove’s daughter, Venus, thus dishonors me, Lame as I am, and loves the butcher Mars; For he is well to look at, and is sound Of foot, while I am weakly ”— we are transferred in imagination from Olympos to the midst of Parisian society. Blood-Marriages. —The regulations of modern Christianity and of civilized nations, in regard to mar¬ riage between near relatives, did not exist in the time of Homer. An inborn feeling, however, of what was right, and an abhorrence of everything unbecoming, BLOOD-MARRIA GES. 143 took the place of specific prohibitions, and nowhere in the poems do we find mention of such marriages, ex¬ cepting in the case of the six sons of Aeolos, who married their sisters: ‘ Twelve children in his halls Were bom, six daughters and six blooming sons; He gave his daughters to his sons for wives, And they with their dear father and his queen Banquet from day to day, with endless change Of meats before them. . . . At night the youths beside their modest wives Sleep on fair couches spread with tapestry.’ ” Let us observe, however, that the inhabitants of the mythical floating island, over which ruled the god of the winds, are represented as barbarians, and the fact that such a custom is attributed to them alone shows that it was deemed peculiar to barbarians. As regards, indeed, the events that transpire in Olympos, it is well known that the myths of the gods are far more ancient than the Homeric period, and are rather symbolical representations of physical phe¬ nomena than a true delineation of existing customs. The marriage of Zeus with his sister Hera, by which is represented the absorption by the sun of the vapors in the atmosphere, has simply a mythological meaning, like, in fact, the marriage of the sons and daughters of Adam, concerning which the Church does not offer any explanation. 144 THE FAMILY. The myth of Epikaste, who, in ignorance and by the will of the Fates, married her own son Oedipos, is well known, and the horror which this terrible crime created through many centuries sufficiently testifies the opinion of the epoch on this point. After the departure of Odysseus from the Island of Kirke, he arrived, by the advice of the latter, in the plain where— . Perimedes and Eurylochus Held in their grasp the victims ”— and, having poured libations to all the dead, their souls came thronging round him. He relates how, among others— “ ‘ The mother, too, of CEdipus I saw. Beautiful Epicast^, who in life Had done unwittingly a heinous deed,— Had married her own son! ’ " Oedipos having slain his father— “ In the pleasant town of Thebes bore sway O’er the Cadmeians ; yet in miseiy’^ He lived, for so the offended gods ordained ”— while Epikaste ended her life with her own hands” : « “ She slung a cord upon a lofty beam And perished by it, leaving him to bear Woes without measure, such as on a son The Furies of a mother might inflict.” CONCUBINES. 145 On the other hand, the union of relatives of second degree was extremely common, and was deemed, as it appears, entirely lawful, as it is to-day, among most Christian nations. Thus Arete, the wife of Alkinods, was the daughter of his brother Rhexenoros. Kreses gave in marriage his daughter Theano to his nephew Iphidamas ; while Diomedes married Aigileia, daugh¬ ter of Adrastos, and sister to his own mother. Concubines. —No opinion, perhaps, has taken deeper root than that the men of the Homeric epoch, besides the lawful wife, kept several concubines, much after the Asiatic fashion. Even those who admire the devotion with which women held to their duty, admit that the men were free from every bond, and that, at least in this respect, may be distinguished the semi - civilized character of the epoch. That there are several passages sustaining the above view we admit, but we purpose to examine more accurately their meaning, and we believe that the gloomy pict¬ ure drawn by certain authors can be materially en¬ livened. “ What is the use,” they say, “ of other examples of the complete freedom of men, when Odys¬ seus himself, the hero of the poem, and consequently drawn in vivid colors, who fervently and justly loved his wife, inasmuch as she preserved unalloyed her pledge to him, so easily surrendered himself to the arms of Kirke and Kalypso ? ” 146 THE FAMILY. First of 'all, it is incontestable that, in every epoch and in every clime, man has considered himself possessed of much greater freedom than woman, and, consequently, we plead no exception to this rule as regards the Homeric period. Indeed, if we compare the age with that of to-day, we will easily admit that progress in this respect has been ever since negative. On the other hand, in every age, the good is ever close to the evil; nor are bright colors alone suffi¬ cient for the delineation of a picture. A society pure and unalloyed belongs only to the regions of imagi¬ nation, and such a description would have been un¬ worthy of the pen of Homer, that accurate observer and deep psychologist. Some would say, perchance, that this may be so; but, since the character of the hero was so easily stained, it results that the entire community was in the same condition. This by no means follows. The stories of Kirke and of Kalypso were of poetic necessity for Homer; neither was the constant invention of Laistrygoni and Kyklops pos¬ sible for the development of the poem. The great poet thoroughly understood that the graceful and the pleasant, such as erotic scenes, furnish a necessary relief to the stronger inventions of the imagination, and consequently introduced such myths, like peace¬ ful oases, amid the fervid glow of his wonderful poem. In the case of a hero who had wandered for many CONCUBINES. 147 % years far from his home, episodes of unfaithfulness seem certainly less censurable ; and, indeed, no one criticises Vergil for describing the amours of Aeneas, or Tasso those of Armida. Homer, however, had other views. While subject¬ ing the hero to temptations, he neglects nothing tend¬ ing to justify him, and, accordingly, represents the failing as light as possible. The hero in the arms of Kalypso, who madly loved him, and who offered him immortality if he would consent to live with her— “ And promised him a life that ne’er should know Decay or death ”— remembered, however, his lawful wife, and “wasted his sweet life, and yearned for his home.” But stern Fate obliged him to remain, and— “ . . . Night after night He slept constrained within the hollow cave. The unwilling by the fond.” When, upon the prayer of Athene, Hermes, sent by the gods to free him from this slavery, arrived before the cave of the goddess, he was at once recog¬ nized by her : “ The herald Argus-queller stood, and saw. And marvelled; but, as soon as he had viewed The wonders of the place, he turned his steps. Entering the broad-roofed cave. Calypso there. 148 THE FAMILY. The glorious goddess, saw him as he came, And knew him, for the ever-living gods Are to each other known, though one may dwell Far from the rest.” Later, when the goddess, heavy at heart, searches for him to communicate the joyful tidings of the decis¬ ion of the gods, she finds him seated upon the shore : “. . . Him she found beside the deep. Seated alone, with eyes from which the tears Were never dried ; for now no more the nymph Delighted him; he wasted his sweet life In yearning for his home.” » When the boat was constructed, and everything made ready for the departure, the lovers sat down to their last meal, and again Kalypso tried to beguile him. “ If you know your interests, stay with me,” she said, “ and be immortal ” : " ‘ But couldst thou know the sufferings Fate ordains For thee ere yet thou landest on its shore. Thou wouldst remain to keep this home with me And be immortal, strong as is thy wish To see thy wife,—a wish that day by day Possesses thee. I can not deem myself In face or form, less beautiful than she ; For never with immortals can the race Of mortal dames in form or face compare.’ ” Odysseus recognizes the truth of her words, nor does he compare his wife with the lovely Kalypso: CONCUBINES. 149 “ . . . ‘ Well I know All thou couldst say. The sage Penelope In feature and in stature comes not nigh To thee, for she is mortal,—deathless thou, And ever young; yet day by day I long To be at home once more, and pine to see The hour of my return.’ ” "... The sun went down ; the night came on, And now the twain withdrew to a recess Deep in the vaulted cave, where, side by side, They took their rest.” If, again, he yields to the enticements of Kirke, he is the less to be blamed, inasmuch as he does so by advice of Hermes, and only in order to rescue his companions from the terrible magic of that enchant¬ ress : “ When she shall have touched you with her magic wand, draw your sword, and rush against her ; but, if she should craftily entice you to amorous pleas¬ ures, that she may the easier destroy you, oppose her wiles, until she shall have sworn to you, by the great oath of the blessed gods, your safety and that of your friends.” Everything happened as above stated, and Odysseus simply relates : “ And, after it was uttered and confirmed. Up to her sumptuous couch I went.” But even then, notwithstanding the hospitality of the goddess, and the easy life spent in the magic THE FAMILY, 150 island throughout the winter, spring had hardly ar¬ rived when he resolves to continue his journey; for, indeed, he says : “ I to Circe’s sumptuous couch went up, A suppliant to her knees.” The goddess was not ignorant of his true senti¬ ments, for, while permitting his departure, she adds : “ Ulysses! ye must not remain with me Unwillingly.” We are told, in the narrative from which the above extracts are taken, more of the sorrows and repent¬ ance of the hero than of his amours. All his con¬ versations with both the goddesses have for their theme his longing for home, and his unquenchable thirst to return. The power holding him, contrary to his desire and by the will of the gods, is most vividly described. These incidents vouch more for the morality than for the licentiousness of the age. The art with which the poet justifies the conduct of his hero is a con¬ clusive evidence that he deems it reprehensible. In order that the reader, from the very first, may be pre¬ pared for what is to follow, the poet supposes Athene to say, in the council of the gods, in the very com¬ mencement of the Odyssey ” : CONCUBINES, 151 “ . . . ‘ But I am grieved For sage Ulysses, that most wretched man, So long detained, repining, and afar From those he loves, upon a distant isle, Girt by the waters of the central deep.’ “ . . . ‘ The daughter there detains The unhappy chieftain, and with flattering words. Would win him to forget his Ithaca. Meanwhile, impatient to behold the smokes That rise from hearths in his own land, he pines. And willingly would die. Is not thy heart, Olympius, touched by this ? ' ” A distinction seems necessary, though overlooked by many, in regard to the classes of concubines. Of these there are two distinct and separate classes no¬ ticed in Homer. The one, such as appears in every¬ day life ; the other, called into being by the vices en¬ gendered by military expeditions. Thus, when Nestor says : “* Therefore let no Greek Go home till he possess a Trojan wife ’ ”— he gives utterence rather to a rhetorical expression, than to an actual fact. In a city besieged for ten years, and finally captured, many barbarous and in¬ decorous acts occur, which have nothing in common with the customs of the epoch. However, it can not be denied that, even in the every-day home-life, besides the lawful wife, there were often concubines ; . 152 THE FAMILY, but this custom is erroneously represented as gen¬ eral. The most conspicuous example of such rela¬ tions is that of Priam, who had fifty sons, all killed by the Achaians, nineteen only of whom he had by his lawful spouse, and the rest by other women: “ ‘ Fifty were with me when the men of Greece Arrived upon our coast; nineteen of these Owned the same mother, and the rest were bom Within my palaces.’ ” In this connection, we must not forget Gladstone’s remark that Priam was not a Greek, but a Trojan, and that, as modern Homeric investigation has demon¬ strated, the Trojans are described by the poet as differing in many respects from the Greeks, and as approaching nearer in their customs to the Asiatics. Gladstone, among other examples, mentions the great number of women in the palace of Priam. But, un¬ fortunately, the chief of the Achaians is represented saying : “ ‘ This maiden I release not till old age Shall overtake her in my Argive home, Far from her native land, where her hand Shall throw the shuttle and shall dress my couch.’ ” Further on he says that he prefers her to Klytaem- nestra, his lawful wife : “. . . ‘ ’Twas my choice To keep her with me, for I prize her more CONCUBINES. 153 Than Clytaemnestra, bride of my young years, And deem her not less nobly graced than she, In form and feature, mind, and pleasing arts.’ ” Piscallas, however, observes that, in all the rela¬ tions between Agamemnon and Klytaemnestra, there is noticed a coldness and mistrust, as if foreboding the coming destruction and the fearful crime of the Queen of Mykenae. Her conduct may somewhat excuse the hero, who, as it has been noticed, on departing, manifests his confidence in the virtue of his wife, by leaving with her the bard to watch her. The seven Lesbians are considered as concubines, who, together with Briseis and the other booty, Agamemnon offers to Achilles to appease him. But this, we think, is simply a supposi¬ tion, not wholly justified by the text. It is, indeed, true that, concerning Briseis alone, he says: “. . . ' With them I will send Her whom I took away,—Briseis, pure— I swear it with a mighty oath—as pure As when she left his tent.’ ” But it does not on this account follow that matters stood in a different light with regard to the Lesbians, who, at the time of their capture, are merely charac¬ terized as “ skilled in household arts,” and as “ dam¬ sels in beauty who excel their sex.” Elsewhere, con¬ cerning these same damsels, the poet says : 154 THE FAMILY. “ And led away seven graceful women trained In household arts,—the maid with rosy cheeks, Briseis, was the eighth." It is, accordingly, probable that these were simply numbered among the crowd of maid - servants, with whom the Homeric palace abounded. The oath as to Briseis is explained, by reason of the altogether exces¬ sive value which, on account of the circumstances, she enjoyed in the estimation of Achilles. Be it remarked that Briseis hoped for the legaliz¬ ing of her relations with Achilles, inasmuch as, when the hero carried her off, after killing her husband and plundering the city, she says of Patroklos : “ ‘ Yet thou, when swift Achilles struck to earth My hapless husband, and laid waste the town Of godlike Mynes, wouldst not suffer me To weep despairingly; for thou didst give Thy word to make me yet the wedded wife Of great Achilles, bear me in the fleet To Phthia, and prepare the wedding feast Among the Myrmidons.’ ’’ The noble-born and refined young woman was so grateful for this favor, that when, restored by Aga¬ memnon to Achilles, she saw the body of Patroklos “ lying gashed with wounds ”— “. . . she sprang And threw herself upon the dead, and tore Her bosom, her fair cheeks and delicate neck." CONCUBINES. 155 In like manner Odysseus, in the fantastic biog¬ raphy which he relates to the swine-herd, Eumaeos, says : ‘ I am of the race Who dwell in spacious Crete, a rich man's son, Within whose palace many other sons Were born and reared, the offspring of his wife ; But me a purchased mother, whom he made His concubine, brought forth to him. And yet Castor Hylacides, from whom I sprang. Held me in equal favor with the rest.’ ” Menelaos had also a son Megapenthes, borne by a hand-maiden, but it must be remarked that— " . . . ‘ not to Helen had the gods vouchsafed Yet other offspring.’ ” Since Helen was already advanced in years, there was no hope of a lawful succession. It would seem that, on such occasions, the affair was permissible ; nor are like examples wanting in the Scriptures. The existence of such relations, and the issue of illegiti¬ mate children, have nothing exceptionally peculiar in themselves, but the fact of concubines living under the same roof with the lawful wife is certainly diametri¬ cally antagonistic to our modern notions of refinement. That this custom not only was not prevalent in the Homeric epoch, but was by many condemned, the re¬ lation of Laertes to the hand-maiden Eurykleia con¬ clusively shows : THE FAMILY. 156 . “ . . . The chaste and sage Dame Eurycleia by his side went up With lighted torches. . . . “ . . . Her, in her early bloom, Laertes purchased for a hundred beeves. And in his palace honored equally With his chaste wife ; yet never sought her bed. He would not wrong his queen.” While the picture has its dark colors, there is no doubt that there were families in which the lawful wife had no rival, and, as a beautiful instance, may be mentioned Homer’s delineation of the love of Hektor and Andromache. Nor is it true, as some have claimed, that sin¬ gle men enjoyed more liberty than the married. Achilles certainly fervently loved Briseis, and shed tears when he saw her taken from him. Other writers remark here that Achilles was a Myrmidon, and not a Greek; and that it was wrath, and not love, which called forth the tears on this occasion. But we deem such distinctions altogether unnecessary, as, besides the son of Peleus, Patroklos also, and many other heroes, had certainly their female captives. But what age, especially in time of war, has ever been free from such vices ? On the other hand, the di¬ vine bard, as if foreseeing the censure of aftertimes, drew us the picture of the virtuous Telemachos, to show the ideal prince, reared in the paternal palace. CONCUBINES. 157 before he had mingled in the turbulent life of the camp. From the passages concerning Chryseis and Briseis we learn that most of the concubines were captives, and were deemed the best part of booty. It is true that some were simply bought, but, as it will be seen, in the chapter On Hand-maids,” the number pur¬ chased was small. It results that the Homeric epoch differed little in these respects from subsequent ones. The more one studies the history of man, one finds that, ever since his first appearance upon the earth, he has been little changed, and appears the same through the cent¬ uries. The women of Homer had their virtues as well as their failings. Concerning the licentiousness of the maid-servants and, in general, of the lower classes, enough is said to enlighten us thoroughly on this sub¬ ject. It suffices to recall the attendants of Penelope, who lived openly with the suitors, and who, both by their acts and words, are represented as wholly void of shame, and well deserving the punishment inflicted upon them. 8 CHAPTER IV. Children—Education—Amusements. Children. —A happy marriage was considered as blessed by the gods with the possession of children, while sterility was deemed a misfortune. A large family was the boast of parents, and the statements on this subject often verged upon the mythical. The story of Niobe is a point to the purpose : “. . . Children twelve Perished within her palace,—six young sons And six fair daughters ”— killed, the former by Apollo, and the latter by Ar¬ temis, because Niobe, the mother, in her happiness— “. . . dared To make herself the peer of rosy-cheeked Latona, who, she boastfully proclaimed. Had borne two children only, while herself Had brought forth many.” Hekabe is said to have brought forth nineteen CHILDREN. 159 sons, while Priam is reputed to have been the father of fifty. This “ polyteknia,” or numerous issue of children, is generally regarded as an evidence of the morality of the age. It would seem, also, that the women, even in an advanced age, were blessed in this respect, wherefore the children born in old age were called “late born,” and were more dear to the parents. Agamemnon, on offering one of his three daughters to Achilles, says : “ . . . ‘ He may become to me A son-in-law, and cherished equally With my sole [late bom] son Orestes, who is reared Most royally.’ ” In like manner, Helen, bitterly repenting her mis¬ take, is heart-broken because she followed Paris : “ . . . ‘ Would that cruel death Had overtaken me before I left. To wander with thy son, my marriage-bed. And my dear daughter, and the company Of friends I loved! ’ ” Lucky, indeed, was considered the possession of a son for newly-married couples, for thereby the family was strengthened. On this account, it is said of Rhexenor, who died after the birth of his daughter Arete : "‘... He who bears The silver bow, Apollo, smote to death l5o the family. Rhexenor, newly wedded, in his home; He left no son, and but one daughter, named Aret^.” In fact, he who had not possessed himself of chil¬ dren was called “ a bridegroom.” Children were com¬ monly believed to be born by intercession of the god¬ desses “ Eilythyoe,” who were said to facilitate child¬ birth. Agamemnon, being wounded by Koonos, is repre¬ sented as suffering terrible pain, which inspires Homer with the following comparison : “ As when a woman feels the piercing pangs Of travail brought her by the Ilythian maids. Daughters of Juno, who preside at births. And walk the ministers of bitter pains,— Such anguish seized on Agamemnon's frame.” Also Zeus, the king of gods, announced to all the immortals, upon the birth of Herakles: “ ‘ This day shall Ilithyia, who presides At births, bring into light a prince whose rule The neighboring tribes shall own; he shall be one Who bears the blood of my illustrious race.’ ” But crafty Hera, ^‘darting forth, shot from the Olympian summit, and at once alighted at Achaian I Argos ” : “. . . There She found the noble wife of Sthenelus, The son of Perseus, pregnant with a son CHILDREN. i6i In the seventh month. She caused him to be bom, The number of his months yet incomplete, And kept Alcmena’s hour of childbirth back. And stayed her pangs.” Thus Hera turned the friendship of the son of Kronos from the Herakleidae, and deprived them of their sway over the Argives. Leto is represented in a hymn as fleeing from the wrath of Hera, who envied her the approaching birth of Apollo. Finally, in her wanderings, she reached Delos. This little island offered her an asylum, upon condition that a temple of Phoebos should be erect¬ ed on its shores. This being granted, “ Leto, for nine days and nine nights, was tossed in piercing pains.” Around her were many goddesses, but ^‘the Ily- thian goddess, the childbirth-facilitating,” was absent, out of friendship to Hera, and was seated upon the summit of Olympos, surrounded by golden clouds. But, finally. Iris being sent to her with a magnificent peplum as a present, she was persuaded to come to Leto, and brought about the happy event. The Ilythian goddess lived in a cave near Am- nisos, in Krete, where Odysseus was carried by the storm of the sea; “ . . .A violent wind Had driven him from Maleia, and the course That led to Ilium, and had carried him To Crete, and lodged him in the dangerous port i 62 THE FAMILY. Amnisus, close to Ilithyia’s cave, Where scarce his fleet escaped the hurricane.” As soon as the child was born, it was washed in clear water, and wrapt in a thin white cloth, kept in place by means of a girdle. Fears often arose lest the new-born child should suffer from the evil-eye,” or unskilled washing. But there existed certain secret antidotes against these evil influences, usually known to competent nurses. We are told, for instance, that the turtle was considered as possessing the power to ward off the evil-eye. The birth of male children was considered a most propitious event for the family, and their joy was shared by all the relatives. Autolykos, the grand¬ father of Odysseus, shortly after the birth of the latter, took him upon his knees, and blessed him with many prayers. The old man rejoiced, and promised that, if ever he should be grown to man’s estate, and should come to see him at Parnassos, where he had rich pos¬ sessions, he would— “ . . . bestow A share on him, and send him home rejoiced.” Later, when Odysseus went to receive the prom¬ ised gifts, we are told— “ . . . Autolycus And all his sons received him with kind words, And friendly grasp of hands ”— CHILDREN. 163 while his grandmother, Amphithea— . took him in her arms, And kissed his brow and both his beautiful eyes.” The child usually received its first nourishment from its mother. When Hektor goes forth from the walls of Ilion to meet Achilles, and old Priam in vain tears the hair of his head to restrain him, Hekabe appears, and, showing him the maternal bosom, says: “ ‘ Revere this bosom, Hector, and on me Have pity. If when thou wert but a babe I ever on this bosom stilled thy cries, Think of it now, beloved child; avoid That dreadful chief; withdraw within the walls. Nor madly think to encounter him alone. Son of my love and of my womb ! ’ ” It is said of Penelope, during the departure of Odysseus, she being but recently married : “ . . . ‘ When we went To war, we left her a young bride ; a babe Was at her breast, a boy, who now must sit Among grown men.’ ” Nevertheless, we often find nurses mentioned in Homer. Thus, Eurykleia nursed Odysseus : “ ‘ I have an aged, prudent dame, whose care Reared my unfortunate husband. She received The nursling when his mother brought him forth.’ ” 164 THE FAMILY. Odysseus himself, also, when his nurse recognized him on his return, and hastened to announce the glad tidings to Penelope, says to her : “ ‘ Nurse, wouldst thou ruin me, who'drew long since Milk from thy bosom, and who now return. After much suffering, borne for twenty years. To mine own land ? " Little Astyanax, though fervently loved by Andro¬ mache— “ . . . slumbered, softly cushioned, on a couch And in his nurse’s arms, his heart at ease And satiate with delights. . . . “ She came attended by a maid, who bore A tender child—a babe too young to speak— Upon her bosom—Hector’s only son. Beautiful as a star.” From the above, it is evident that the employment of nurses was common during the Homeric age, and it appears, from the tragic writers, that the custom pre¬ vailed still more in the classical age. To some writers this seems inconsistent with the manners of an archaic period, during which, in their opinion, the observation of the rules of nature would have been more probable, and, on this account, they seek labored explanations of a fact, the denial of which is extremely difficult. Feithe claims that nurses were employed only in CHILDREN. 165 case of sickness or necessity, but that the practice is erroneously considered to have been general. Altogether inadmissible seems to us the opinion of Lenz, that the employment of the nurses is explained by reason of the importance attached to a numerous progeny, and hence they were taken, that the mothers might not early become barren. Such a minuteness of suppositions appears altogether inconsistent with the simplicity of the Homeric epoch; and, besides, we are told that Hekabe, the most productive of the Homeric women, nursed her first - born .son, Hektor, and probably the rest also. The truth is that, in Homeric times, as to-day, nurses were taken for various reasons and under various circumstances. We have noticed that, even when the children were nursed by the mother, the general oversight of them was intrusted to some of the maid-servants. It was in this way that Eurykleia reared Telemachos. But such nurses, besides the care of the babe intrusted to them, had also other duties to perform. Thus, Eurykleia was the overseer of the handmaids, and kept the keys of the store-room. The nurses were rewarded by large emoluments, and in a manner which caused them to be envied by the other domestics. This means nothing' more nor less than that they were free, and received pay. But the mere fact that they had brought up one of the chil- i66 THE FAMILY. dren of the family rendered them honored and re¬ vered. We have, as a constant example of this fact, the nurse Eurykleia, who, having reared Odysseus and Telemachos, was especially honored in the house of Laertes. The presence of the nurse in no wise deprived the babe of the personal care of the mother. Notice the following beautiful lines in which Athene is represented as protecting Menelaos from the missiles : “ ‘ As when a mother, while her child is wrapped In a sweet slumber, scares away the fly. So Pallas turned the weapon from thy breast.’ ” A mother’s heart never changes. Thirty centuries ago, in Europe and in the tropic regions of Africa, the mother, with the same tender care, bent over the slum¬ bering babe, and, forgetting the realities of earthly existence, formed golden dreams for the future. • When Patroklos stood beside his friend, the mighty Achilles— “ And shed hot tears, as when a fountain sheds Dark waters streaming down a precipice ”— with how much grace the King of the Myrmidons compares him to a maiden, running after her mother, seizing her by the garment, and looking at her with tearful eyes, until she shall have taken her to her warm embrace !— CHILDREN. 167 “ ‘ Why weepest thou, Patroclus, like a g^rl,— A little girl that, by her mother’s side Runs, importuning to be taken up. And plucks her by the robe, and stops her way. And looks at her, and cries, until, at last She rests within her arms ? ’ ’ On the other hand, Dione, threatening Diomede, and saying that— “ . . . ‘ no child Shall prattling call him father when he comes Returning from the dreadful tasks of war ” furnishes us with a valuable example that even then the first word of the child was the name of father or of mother. The Homeric babes, like our own, prattled their first syllables on the knees of their parents. In fact, it would seem that paternal love was not less than motherly devotion. How enchanting the pict¬ ure of small Astyanax !— “ Then to his widowed mother shall return Astyanax in tears, who, not long since Was fed, while sitting on his father's lap. On marrow and the delicate fat of lambs.” Who recognizes under this form the great Hektor of the glancing helmet, who, with the customary cru¬ elty of the Homeric heroes, slew every enemy who came in his path ? He whose sight alone put to flight whole legions, holds in his powerful arms, instead of i68 THE FAMILY, a spear, his babe, and prepares its food, until, having fallen asleep, the nurse comes to take it away. The father generally gave the name to the infant. However, we are told, in the case of Arnaeos— “ Arnaeus was the name which, at his birth His mother gave him.” Friedreich deems this an exception, explained by the death or absence of the father. But elsewhere we are told that Autolykos gave to his grandchild, for having wandered in various lands, the name of Odys¬ seus, or the Wanderer. He also says to Laertes and to his wife : “ ‘ Daughter and son-in-law, be his the name ^ That I shall give.’ ” It thus appears that the right of the father was not, as the learned German author thinks, exclusive. Very rarely, indeed, had the given name any relation to that of parents or relatives, but a patronymic was added to it, thus distinguishing those bearing the same name. Thus, Breseis means the daughter of Breseus ; Chry- seis, the daughter of Chryseus; Peleides, the son of Peleus, etc. Friedreich, having counted all the pas¬ sages in which such names are mentioned, has found, we think, sixty in all. But we believe v/e are not mistaken in stating simply that this occurs with nearly EDUCATION. 169 all the heroes mentioned in the poems, as well as with the two women named above. Education. — Educational institutions were un¬ known during the Homeric period. The children were taught in the paternal home, and their education continued from babyhood to the hour of their mar¬ riage. Thus, Eumaeos was brought up by the mother of Odysseus, with her youngest daughter, Ktimene, in the house of Laertes, until he reached manhood, when the maiden was dispatched to her intended husband at Samos, while he, as a goatsherd, was sent to the fields : “ ‘ While yet she lived, great as her sorrow was, I loved to speak with her and hear her words; For she had reared me with her youngest-born,— Her daughter, long-robed Ctimena.' " According to Hesiod, during the silver age, a son was educated for one hundred years in his father’s house. Although education lasted for a long time, it little resembled the one inflicted upon the unfor¬ tunate youth of recent years. The study of lan¬ guages was then unknown, as well as the various sci¬ ences and the other multifarious kinds of knowledge with which we torment the young minds of to-day. Education then consisted in an imitation of practical examples, developing in an equal degree both mind and body, and gradually changing the blooming shoots into leafy and strong trees. 170 THE FAMILY. The education of women seems to have been lim¬ ited. For the maiden, the future matron and mistress, there was no more competent instructor than her mother. Living by her side, listening to her advice, and relieving her in her household occupations, she developed in these respects to a high degree. Never¬ theless, no little time and attention was demanded for all these works, and especially for the manufacture of those wonderful embroideries of which we have al¬ ready spoken. Besides this cultivated aptitude, there was needed a considerable knowledge of drawing, for the blending and weaving of the various patterns with which the costly pepla were usually adorned. It has already been noticed that the peplum given by Helen to Telemachos “shone as a star," by reason of the many-colored and various representations. On the other hand, it is probable that the maid- ens were rarely taught music, since we nowhere find a woman praised as a singer. But great impor¬ tance was attached to the teaching of dancing, be¬ cause, at marriage-feasts and other important festivals, the maidens danced either alone or with the men. Often they developed such grace and art that they called forth the general approbation of the lookers-on. Many were the tender sentiments that thereby arose : “ The mighty Argus-queller saw the maid Among the choir of those who danced and sang EDUCATION’. 171 At Dian’s festival, the huntress-queen, Who bears the golden shafts; he saw and loved.” On the other hand, nowhere do we find maidens exercising in athletic sports. The heroic period did not know the laws of Lykurgos. Nevertheless, due care was taken for the regular development of the body. The young Nausikaa, conducting by her soft hand the fleet mules, is an example ; and the beauty generally attributed to woman furnishes a safe guar¬ antee of the degree in which she was esteemed, and the diligence with which was cultivated everything tending to preserve and develop this beauty. The education of the boys was far more important. The young prince, during the Homeric age, was born a soldier, and had for his sole ambition the possession of a suitable place among the heroes. Courage and devotion to arms in no wise precluded the cultivation of the mind, and eloquence in the assembly; and the tact properly to represent one's interests, was esteemed as greatly as bravery on the field of battle. That eloquence and facility of defending the highest in¬ terests of the state are justly honored by writers as most wonderful in men accustomed to the din of bat¬ tles ; wherefore, the verse— “ In words an orator, in warlike deeds An actor ”— 172 THE FAMILY. has ever been considered as setting forth the two foundations upon which every noble education was based. Courage, wisdom, justice, these were the in¬ dispensable qualities for the young hero, and these were especially praised in him. On this account Nestor is deemed happy, for his sons were “ . . . wise-minded, mighty with the spear.” To achieve this double purpose, as the father alone was unequal to the task, a trainer was taken to com¬ plete the education of the child. Such was Phoenix toward Achilles, who, having run away from his pater¬ nal home, came to Peleus, a distant relative, and was employed by the latter to properly educate young Achilles. Among other things we notice, from this example, that the boy-trainers, during the Homeric period, differed from those constantly met with in the classical epoch. These latter were usually paid slaves, hired domestics, or friends of the family into which they went to escape poverty, or were forced by some other misfortune, and educated the chil¬ dren in exchange for the protection bestowed upon them. It would appear that the boy-trainers or educators were employed from the very infancy of the children, inasmuch as Phoenix, in order to appease the heart of the wrathful Achilles, reminded him how he fed him, EDUCATION, 173 as he sat on his knees, and what unpleasant scenes resulted by reason of his petulant childhood : “ ‘ I loved thee from my soul; thou wouldst not go With any other to the feast, nor take Thy food at home until upon my knees I placed thee, carved thy meats, and gave them thee. And poured thy wine. The tunic on my breast Was often wetted by thee when the wine Gushed, in thy petulant childhood, from thy lips.’ ’’ Few certainly are the nurses who to-day perform their duty with the same attachment and care de¬ scribed in the verses above. Beautiful, indeed, is the picture of the infant which knew no dearer refuge upon earth than the embrace of the old man. This close relation was kept up throughout the much-troubled life of the hero. Phoenix, being al¬ ready well-nigh upon the lips of the grave, recalls those scenes of childhood with tearful eyes. In like manner the sentiments of Achilles are equally strong toward the guardian and guide of his youthful years, for he gladly divides with him his kingdom and the honors bestowed upon him : “ . . . ‘ Reign thou equally with me. And share my honors.’ ” The children intrusted to the trainer remained continually under his care, and were taught by him, both by example and advice, what was useful. 174 THE FAMILY, On account of the want of writing, we know little in regard to the mental training of the child. But the matter stands differently with regard to exercise of the body. Athletic exercises were an indispensable charac¬ teristic of the Hellenic race, and wherever a Hellenic people is spoken of we find such exercises mentioned by Homer, who, however, never refers to them in con¬ nection with barbarians. The description of the brilliant obsequies of Pa- troklos, and of the contests which took place among the Phaekeans, furnishes us with an accurate idea of these athletic exercises. Many of them were so diffi¬ cult, that there is no doubt whatever as to the great development of the body during the Homeric times. It was through wrestling, boxing, running, and other exercises, that the body was strengthened, and the boy inured from infancy to the various hardships which were later in store for him. Hunting was followed, also, with the same end in view, and was the favor¬ ite amusement of the young. When Odysseus visit¬ ed his grandfather, the latter went forth with his sons to hunt: “ . . . Forth issued the young men. The children of Autolycus, with hounds. To hunt.” Odysseus, on that occasion, killed a huge wild- EDUCATION. 175 boar, which was lying near by within a thicket, but in return the boar gashed his foe above the knee.” Strange to say, music appears to have been culti¬ vated, during this epoch, more by the men than by the women. Well-nigh all of the heroes are famous for their ability and dexterity in playing upon some musical instrument, an accomplishment not always possessed by the women. The ambassadors, sent by Agamemnon to appease Achilles, found him drawing solace “ . . . from the music of a harp Sweet-toned and shapely, in a silver frame. Part of the spoil he took when he o’erthrew Eetion’s town. To soothe his mood, he sang The deeds of heroes. By him sat alone Patroclus, silent till the song should cease.” The young men as well as the maidens were taught to dance, and they often sang to the sound of the in¬ struments that accompanied their movements. However, these accomplishments were deemed of secondary importance, and were more in vogue among the peaceful people of the Phaekeans than with the warlike Achaians. To the young heroes, who were frequently exposed to danger, both in hunting and in war, the acquisition of some elementary knowledge of medicine and sur¬ gery was deemed indispensable. Thus Cheiron, the 176 THE FAMILY. most just of the Kentaurs, is said to have taught Achilles how to treat wounds : “ . . . ‘ Give now thine aid, And take me to my ship, and cut away The arrow from my thigh, and from the part Cleanse with warm water the dark blood, and shed Soothing and healing balms upon the wound, As taught thee by Achilles, who had learned The art from Chiron, righteous in his day Beyond all other Centaurs.’ ” The sons of Autolykos healed the wound of Odys¬ seus inflicted by the wild-boar : “ . . . Then around their guest The kindly children of Autolycus Came and bound up with care the wound, and stanched With spells the dark blood of the blameless youth. And hastened with him to their father’s home. And when Autolycus and they his sons Had seen him wholly healed, they loaded him With presents, and, rejoicing for his sake. Sent him rejoicing back to Ithaca.” Besides the instructor Phoenix, Achilles had also another companion and guardian of his youth, Patro- klos. Having become enraged against the son of Amphidamas, with whom he was playing at dice, and having killed him in a moment of wrath, he was sent by his father Menoetius to Peleus. The latter took him as an assistant for the education of his son, by whom he was called a companion: EDUCATION. 177 “ . . . ‘As we were reared Under thy roof together, from the time When first Menoetius brought thee, yet a boy. From Opus, where I caused a sorrowful death ;— For by my hand, when wrangling at the dice. Another boy, son of Amphidamas, Was slain without design,—and Peleus made His halls my home, and reared me tenderly. And made me thy companion ;—so at last. May one receptacle, the golden vase Given by thy gracious mother, hold our bones.’ ” Being older than Achilles, and regarded as a friend as well as an instructor, he followed him everywhere, and, by good and noble examples, led him in the path of virtue. Menoetius himself, giving his son the ne¬ cessary instructions, clearly defines the circle of his activity : “ ‘ My son, Achilles is the nobler bom. But thou art elder. He surpasses thee By far in warlike might, but thou must prompt His mind with prudent counsels; thou must warn And guide him ; he will hearken to thy words Meant for his good.’ ” In fact, so strongly was the influence of Patroklos preserved, that even later Nestor invokes it to appease the wrath of Achilles : “ . . . ‘ Thou perchance mayst bend His will—who knows ?—by thy persuasive words; For wholesome are the warnings of a friend.’ ” 178 THE FAMILY. How close the friendship was which, in the course of time, sprang up between these two young com¬ panions, all who have read the poems well know. These contain no more pathetic passage than that in which there appears to the mourning Achilles, in his sleep, the spirit of his dead friend, recalling past associations, and giving him the last embrace, before finally descending into Hades: “ ‘ Give me thy hand, I pray ; for never more Shall I return to earth when once the fire Shall have consumed me.’ ” But, we are told that, as Achilles “. . . stretched His longing arms to clasp the shade—in vain ; Away, like smoke it went, with gibbering cry, Down to the earth.” When a boy had passed his infancy, he sometimes followed his father to the cultivation of his estates, and was there taught the first elements of botany and agriculture, which he turned into practice by caring for the young trees and plants. The father often pre¬ sented to him, as a recompense, some of those of which the young man had especially taken care. Odysseus, already an old man, reminds his father Laertes, when he visits him, of those youthful occupa¬ tions, and enumerates still the trees presented to him. As the young man grew up, he was sent to visit AMUSEMENTS} 179 his relatives. We have already alluded to the visit of Odysseus to his grandfather Autolykos. The re¬ ception offered to him was hearty, and a magnificent repast was placed before him in his honor, and to refresh him after his long journey. When, after hav¬ ing distinguished himself in hunting, and having re¬ ceived the splendid gifts bestowed upon him, he re¬ turned to Ithaka— “ His father and his gracious mother there Rejoiced in turn, and asked him of the scar, And how it came, and he related all.” There is no doubt that the children in Homer^s time possessed all the “ playfulness ” and “ vivacity ” of those of to-day. They collected in small groups, and searched for the nests of hornets, and often dearly paid for their daring, because those winged insects suddenly caused them “a severe pain.” But scenes far more lamentable often occurred during the playing of the children, as the example of Patroklos has taught us. Amusements. —There are three games mentioned in Homer, played not only by the children, but often also by the men. The first of these was the “ astra- galoe,” or the jack-stones. These were pieces of bones from the ankles of animals. Authors generally remark that, as Homer says nothing in explanation of i8o THE FAMILY. this game, there is no way of arriving at a perfect understanding of it. Annotators of Homer do not seem to know that there is still extant, among the Greeks of to-day, a widely-known game, which, if not the very one mentioned in Homer, is at any rate its genuine descendant, strangely preserved through cent¬ uries among the lower classes, and we thus have posi¬ tive information as to its pan-archaic ancestor. The game is played as follows: Those about to engage in it sit in a circle, and each throws up in turn the bones ; in accordance with the position which the pieces assume on* falling on the back of the hand some honorary or disgraceful name is given to the one throwing, and a stated number of blows is applied to the losers, at the discretion of those who have shared in the honors. It would appear that usually the ankle of the ox was preferred, because otherwise it would be hard to understand the murder of the son of Amphidamas. If this game is, as we unhesitatingly believe, simi¬ lar to the one in use during the Homeric period, the Germans give it a wrong title in the word “ Wiirfel- spiel'^ We also consider that Becker is in error in claiming that the Homeric game was exactly similar to the dice-throwing of modern times. * During the classical age there were two kinds of “ankle-bone throwing”—the matching and the throw- AMUSEMENTS. i8i ing five pieces at once. The matching, which was also called ‘‘ odd and even,” is fully described in the fol¬ lowing passage: “ ‘How many teeth have you?’ he said ; instead of * How many walnuts ? ’ For this is the game : One, taking nuts in his closed hand, and stretching it forth, asks, ‘ How many ? ’ In case he succeeds in divining the number, he wins as many nuts as there are in the hand ; but, if he should be wrong in his answer, he pays the same number.” The game was called ankle-bone throwing,” be¬ cause anciently small ankle-bones were used. In the course of time nuts or other small objects were substi¬ tuted for these. In like manner, there has been preserved un¬ changed to our day the well-known game of five peb¬ bles. We find in Polydeukes a description which corresponds exactly with the game played to-day in Hellas. This description is as follows : “ There were used five small stones, or even ankle- bones, which, being placed in the palm of the hand, were quickly thrown up so as to fall on the back of it; in case all did not remain on the top of the hand, it was necessary to catch up those which had fallen, by opening the fingers, without, however, let¬ ting go the pieces which already were on the hand.” Of this game, which was also called “ ankle-bone 9 i 82 THE FAMILY. throwing/' a diagram is preserved in the well-known picture representing the visit of Niobe to I.eto. The second and most important of the Homeric games was known as the translated draughts or checkers!' Learned treatises have been written on this subject, but the game is so complex that its de¬ tails are neither fully nor clearly understood, espe¬ cially as the passages which refer to it are few in number. Palamedes is said to have invented the game, and, on this account, he is represented, in Euripides, as playing it with Protesilaos. In like manner, Ajax and Achilles are said to play it, so that the game is generally admitted to have originated in the mythical times. But fortune again wonderfully assists us, inasmuch as there is still to be found in Greece a game which probably has at least a partial resemblance to the pessoe. We refer to the well-known Greek game of nine-pins.” The accurate preservation of match¬ ing ” and five pebbles ” among the people of Hellas justifies us in searching for the beginning of most of our popular games in the ancient times. In fact, on the steps of the Parthenon there was found inscribed a representation of “the nine-pins.” Aphion, the Alex¬ andrian, says, according to Athenaeos, that he has learned from Ktesias, the Ithakesean, that the Ho¬ meric pessoe, as played by the suitors, was a sort of AMUSEMENTS. 183 divining game, invented by them to conjecture the success or non-success of their suit. This happened as follows : Each of the sixty-eight suitors placed a pesson^ or pin, upon one of two opposite lines, each of which, accordingly had thirty-four pins. In the midst, where a vacant spot was left, there was another pin placed, called Penelope, against which in turn was thrown the pin of each player. In case of success, he placed in that central spot his own piece, by which he deemed himself as the one likely to win Penelope. In case he succeeded a second time, he was declared a vic¬ tor, and entertained sweet hopes as to the success of his suit. The above seems to be altogether mythical, inas¬ much as the silence of Homer upon this subject ap¬ pears difficult to explain. Granting that this game was widely known during the Homeric age, it is im¬ probable that it would have been mentioned without some hint that its intention was to forecast the destiny of Penelope. The aforementioned passage of Athe- naeos doubtless refers to some more modern game, which’perhaps took the Homeric name. In like manner, certain authors claim that Ajax and Achilles, and the other heroes, by means of this game, sought not only diversity, but some favorable omen concerning the capture of Troy. But all these 184 THE FAMILY, assumptions, founded upon no extant passage of Homer, must be considered as pure conjectures. The third Homeric game is twice mentioned by the poet: First, in the excursion of Nausikaa to the shore, which has already been described. The court of Alkinoos furnishes the second example. After the song of the bard, the two best dancers of the Phae- keans, Halios and Laodamas, whom “ none of all others equaled,’' engaged in a dance, which consisted in the artistic throwing of a ball by the one and the skillful catching of it by the other. The passage is as fol¬ lows : “ Then taking a fair purple ball, the work Of skillful Polybus, and, bending back. One flung it toward the shadowy clouds on high ; The other springing upward, easily Grasped it before he touched the ground again." Friedreich makes a distinction between the two passages, and, basing his deductions upon the verse in which it is said that Nausikaa, having thrown the ball toward one of the attendants, and having missed her aim, awoke Odysseus, who was sleeping near by— maintains that the game of Halios and Laodamas was the true one, while that of the young women consisted simply in throwing the ball to each other. In other words, it was the “ ball-practice " usual among the school-boys of to-day. But this exercise is so violent AMUSEMENTS. 185 that it seems to us ill-suited for girls. Again, how can the following verse bear out the above conjecture ?— “ . . . Nausikaa, the white-armed, Began a song.” How could she sing in a game which renders even breathing difficult ? The supposition is more probable that, on this occasion also, the very same game or dance is referred to as when Halios and Laodamas danced ; and, if Nausikaa throws the ball to the at¬ tendant, she probably does this after finishing the dance, and “ . . . when they were about to move for home, With harnessed mules and with the shining robes.” Thus, it seems likely that this Homeric game was the same mentioned in the first instance, and fully described in the second. It is in this game that the source of modern ball-playing is found. Fried¬ reich, to reconcile everything, says, *‘With both kinds of this game of ball, the dance was also closely linked " ; but this remark has no importance what¬ ever. CHAPTER V. Parental love—Brotherly love—Illegitimate children—Slavery— The value of slaves—The number of slaves—Hired domes¬ tics. Parental .Love. —We have already noticed how strong the feeling of parental love was during the Pan-archaic years. As its eternal type stands Niobe, who, according to tradition, sheds unceasing tears at the loss of her children. The love of the children toward their parents was also exceptionally strong, so that both the parental and filial relations have much that is noble and lofty in the Homeric age. When Priam, at the feet of Achilles, pleads for the body of his son Hektor, instead of other prayers, he reminds the hero of his own father : “ ‘ Think of thy father, an old man like me. Godlike Achilles ! On the dreary verge Of closing life he stands, and even now Haply is fiercely pressed by those who dwell- Around him, and has none to shield his age From war and its disasters. Yet his heart PARENTAL LOVE. 187 Rejoices when he hears thou yet dost live, And every day he hopes that his dear son Will come again from Troy. My lot is hard, For I was father of the bravest sons In all wide Troy, and none are left me now ! ’ " He knew well that this was the best way to move Achilles. Indeed, the words of the old man caused the hero to burst into tears, and he delivered to the unhappy father the body of his son. Now, if else¬ where Achilles says, lamenting the death of Patrcklos— . ‘ No worse calamity Could light on me, not even should I hear New's of my father’s death ’ ”— this not only is 'not contrary to what has been ex¬ pressed before, but it shows, in fact, that the loss of a father was deemed the most irreparable of all ca¬ lamities. Nestor, when he tries to rally the fleeing Achaians, conjures them by the memory of their parents, as the most sacred remembrance of all: “. . . ‘ Think each one of his children and his wife. His home, his parents, living yet or dead.’ ” Elpenor, beseeching Odysseus, on his return from Hades, not to leave him unwept and unburied, but to erect a tomb for him by the shore of the sea, says : “. . . ‘I conjure thee now, by those Whom thou hast left behind and far away. i88 THE FAMILY. Thy consort and thy father,—him by whom Thou when a boy wert reared,—and by thy son Telemachus, who in thy palace halls Is left alone— . . . leave me not when thou departest thence Unwept, unburied, lest I bring on thee The anger of the gods. But bum me there With all the armor that I wore, and pile, Close to the hoary deep, a mound for me.'" How sorrowful, indeed, are the expressions of Achilles, weeping at the memory of his aged father Peleus! How tearful the conversation between Odys¬ seus and the shade of the hero in Hades, which in that dark realm yearns for news of his aged father, and grieves at the thought that he is perhaps deprived of the honor and care due to him !— “ ‘ And tell me also if thou aught hast heard Of blameless Peleus,—w^hether he be yet Honored among his many Myrmidons, Or do they hold him now in small esteem In Hellas and in Phthia, since old age Unnerves his hands and feet, and I no more Am there, beneath the sun, to give him aid. “. . . Could I come again. But for a moment, with my former strength. Into my father s palace, I would make That strength and these unconquerable hands A terror to the men who do him wrong, And rob him of the honor due a king.' ” Heart-rending also was the mourning of old Laer¬ tes on account of the absence of his beloved son ; and PARENTAL LOVE. 189 when finally Odysseus returns, after an absence of twenty years, and, secretly entering his palace, finds his aged father alone— “ Wasted with age and sorrow-worn," the heart of the hero sinks at his appearance : “. . .he stopped Beside a lofty pear-tree’s stem and wept, And pondered whether he should kiss and clasp His father in his arms, and tell him all. How he had reached his native land and home. Or question first and prove him.” But upon consideration, and in order, before mak¬ ing himself known, to find out all that had occurred in Ithaka during his absence, he fabricates a story, in which he introduces certain of his own wanderings: " He spake, and a dark cloud of sorrow came Over Laertes. With both hands he grasped The yellow dust, and over his white head Shed it with piteous groans.” Then finally, Odysseus, casting aside the mask— "... sprang And kissed and clasped him in his arms, and said:— ‘ Nay, I am he, my father; I myself Am he of whom thou askest. . . . But calm thyself, refrain from tears, and grieve No more.’ ” But perhaps still more moving is the first meeting between Odysseus and Telemachos. The latter, re- THE FAMILY. 190 turning from Pylos, after his vain search for his father, comes to the old swine-herd, by whom also Odysseus was found. As he, according to his habit, relates to his son certain mythical stories concerning himself, he is changed by the will of Athene, and appears to the astonished eyes of the youth so brilliant and so young, that at first Telemachos took him to be a god; but finally, persuaded as to the truth— • . Telemachus Around his glorious father threw his arms, And shed a shower of tears. Both felt at heart A passionate desire to weep; they wept Aloud,—and louder were their cries than those Of eagles, or the sharp-clawed vulture tribe. Whose young the hinds have stolen, yet unfledged. - Still flowed their tears abundantly; the sun Would have gone down and left them weeping still, Had not Telemachus at length inquired ”... But there is another love more sympathetic than all others, ethereal as the mind and limitless as mat¬ ter—the love of the mother; and the great poet does not ignore this truth. While, from the beginning to the end of the poems, many beauties evince the lof¬ tiest genius, there are few passages more divine than those in which such relations are described ; and it is manifest, even to the indifferent reader, that the poet himself had strongly experienced a feeling of this kind. ..Those who have read the “ Odyssey,” even in a cur- PARENTAL LOVE. 191 sory way, have undoubtedly discovered the connection between it and Dante’s “ Divine Comedy.” In the Odyssey,” it is true, there is one passage only, one glorious page, which may be regarded as the source from which Dante drew his inspiration and elaborated his more complete poem, describing not only known worlds, but creating others still more weird in the lurid depths of his own imagination. Just as, in the “ Divine Comedy,” the fate of Francesca and of Paolo causes even the deepest recesses of the reader’s heart to vibrate, thus in the world below, the conversation of Odysseus with the spirit of his mother forms one of the most wonderful pictures which ever human im¬ agination conceived and described. The wandering hero, on leaving the Island of Kirke, came by the advice of the sorceress to the farthest confines of the ocean, where the Kimmerians, a northern people, dwelt : “ There lies the land, and there the people dwell Of the Cimmerians, in eternal cloud And darkness. Never does the glorious sun Look on them with his rays, when he goes up Into the starry sky, nor when again He sinks from heaven to earth. Unwholesome night O erhangs the wretched race.” We have quoted the above verses, because it is evident from them that, during the Homeric age, there already existed certain undeveloped ideas about the 192 THE FAMILY. countries to the north, and the fact that a six months" night enveloped those lands was well known. There Odysseus dug a trench in the ground, and, filling it first with milk and honey, then with rich wine and wa¬ ter, and, having scattered white meal upon the sur¬ face, kneeling, he began to pray “ to the troop of airy forms ” that he might at last come to Ithaka. Having thus worshiped with prayer, he cut the throats of the sacred sheep, let the dark blood flow into the hollow trench, and then— “ . . . ‘ thronging round me came Souls from the dead, from Erebus,—young wives And maids unwedded, men worn out with years And toil, and virgins of a tender age In their new grief, and many a warrior slain In battle, mangled by the spear, and clad In bloody armor, who about the trench Flitted on every side, now here, now there. With gibbering cries, and I grew pale with fear.’ ” But, recalling the instructions given him by Kirke, he drew his sword, and kept the souls away from the blood, that the spirit of the seer Teiresias might first drink. While he was speaking with the shadowy form of Elpenor, suddenly “ . . . ‘ the soul of Anticleia came,— My own dead mother. . . . “ . . . ‘ Her I left Alive, what time I sailed for Troy, and now I wept to see her there, and pitied her. PARENTAL LOVE. 193 And yet forbade her, though with grief, to come Near to the blood,—till I should first accost Tiresias.’ ” Finally, when the soul of King Teiresias had spoken to him, and passed to the abode of Pluto, the spirit of Antikleia drank of the dark blood, and forthwith she recognized her son: “. . . ‘ She knew me suddenly, And said, in piteous tones, these winged words :— “ How didst thou come, my child, a living man, Into this place of darkness ? Difficult It is for those who breathe the breath of life To visit these abodes, through which are rolled Great rivers^ fearful floods ! . . . Hast thou come hither on thy way from Troy, A weary wanderer, with thy ship and friends ? And hast thou not been yet at Ithaca, Nor in thine island palace seen thy wife ? ” ’ ” Odysseus explains the cause of his descent into the dark abodes, but one idea above all possesses him, the desire to hear of the loved ones left at home. He immediately asks for news of his father and son, wheth¬ er they still hold the authority intrusted to them, and whether his wife keeps unbroken her pledge to the absent one. The answers of the phantom pour bal¬ sam on his wounds, inasmuch as Penelope has ever remained faithful in the palace : “. . . ‘ Weary days and nights And tears are hers.’ ” 194 THE FAMILY, She also informs him— “ . . . ‘ No man has taken yet Thy place as ruler, but Telemachus Still has the charge of thy domain. . . . “ . . . ‘ In the fields Thy father dwells, and never in the town Is seen; nor beds nor cloaks has he, nor mats Of rich device, but, all the winter through. He sleeps, where sleep the laborers, on the hearth. Amid the dust, and wears a wretched garb ; And when the summer comes, or autumn days Ripen the fruit, his bed is on the ground. And made of leaves that everywhere are shed In the rich vineyards. There he lies and grieves, And, cherishing his sorrow, mourns thy fate, And keenly feels the misenes of age.’ ” The phantom adds that, in like manner, was also freed of my miserable existence. No cruel dis¬ ease carried me away, nor did I endure any other cruel suffering ”— “ ‘ But constant longing for thee, anxious thoughts Of thee, and memory of thy gentleness, Ulysses, made an end of my sweet life.’ ” -On hearing this, the hero became frantic with sorrow : “. . . ‘ I longed to take into my arms The soul of my dead mother. Thrice I tried. Moved by a strong desire, and thrice the form Passed through them, like a shadow or a dream.’" PARENTAL LOVE. 195 We have mentioned Dante, and now we come to a more modern poet, Shakespeare. The wonderful in¬ vocation of Hamlet to the phantom of his father is wholly contained in the heart - moving expressions that the hero Odysseus addressed to the spirit, which vanishes despite his vain appeals : “ ‘ Beloved mother, why wilt thou not keep Thy place, that I may clasp thee, so that here, In Pluto’s realm and in each other’s arms We each might in the other soothe the sense Of misery ? Hath mighty Proserpine Sent but an empty shade to meet me here. That I might only grieve and sigh the more } ’ ” But the mother tells him— ** ‘ Believe not that Jove’s daughter Proserpine Deceives thee. 'Tis the lot of all our race When they are dead. No more the sinews bind The bones and flesh, when once from the white bones The life departs. Then, like a dream the soul Flies off, and flits about from place to place.’ ” Dante passes from Hades to Paradise, and, in his wonderful poem, darkness succeeds to paradisical light. The transition is somewhat similar in Homer, if, after the subterranean meeting we have described, we recall Achilles invoking on the shore the appear¬ ance of the white goddess to whom he owed his life. On one side we have gloom and tears, bleached bones, and vain clasping of phantoms; on the other, the 196 THE FAMILY. golden rays of the morning sun dance upon the sum¬ mit of the waves, and illume the bright hair of the goddess, who emerges from the water at the call of her son. .How poetic and how tender this relation of the beautiful Nereis and the unconquerable hero, her own child ! When the embassy of Agamemnon had carried away Briseis, Achilles, deeply wounded at heart, first of all remembered his mother, and hastened to her, to pour forth the suffering of his soul, and to obtain con¬ solation : “. . . gazed On the black deep beyond, and stretched his hands. And prayed to his dear mother, earnestly.” Somewhere in the deep-blue depths his mother dwelt. But broad was the bosom of the ocean, and who could tell in what part she then lived ? Perchance she was following the chariot of Poseidon in the black Euxine, or the blue Propontis ; or playing with other Nereids, by the light of the full moon, on some dis¬ tant shore; or sitting in the palace of her father, re¬ ceiving the compliments of admiring Tritons. In fact, she was “ Sitting within the ocean deeps, beside Her aged father.” But, on hearing the wailings of her son— PARENTAL LOVE. 197 “ . . . swiftly from the waves Of the gray deep emerging like a cloud, She sat before him as he wept, and smoothed His brow with her soft hand, and kindly said : ‘ My child, why weepest thou ? What grief is this ? Speak, and hide nothing, so that both may know.’ " Though less poetic, the relations of Telemachos and Penelope were most tender. With how much de¬ votion he consoles her, and cares for everything in the absence of his father ! When he finally resolves upon setting out, how earnestly he enjoins silence upon the aged nurse Eurykleia for at least twelve days, lest his mother might grieve were she to know of his absence— “ . . . and she weep. And stain with tears the beauty of her face.” But if all else were wanting, it would be sufficient to recall that wonderful picture in which the joy of Odysseus, at the calm which followed the storm, is compared to the joy felt by children on the recovery of their parents from a dangerous disease : “ And as a father’s life preserved makes glad His children’s hearts, when long time he has lain Sick, wrung with pain, and wasting by the power Of some malignant genius, till at length The gracious gods bestow a welcome cure. So welcome to Ulysses was the sight Of woods and fields. ” 198 THE FAMILY. Besides filial love, obligations of gratitude and of duty imposed upon them by society, united the children to their parents. To those who had taken care of them during infancy, who had earnestly watched over them and brought them up to the age of manhood, the chil¬ dren owed the same unceasing care. Many examples • of this may be found in the Homeric poems. The sons of Nestor, of Alkinoos, and of Priam, busied themselves with household affairs, to the relief of their aged parents. These filial sentiments became still more tender in the relations between mother and son, who, as it has been noticed in the self-regulating Homeric so¬ ciety, assumed authority in the absence of his father. Thus, the sending away of Penelope from the paternal mansion in no wise exceeded the right of Telema¬ chos, but to the suitors recommending this measure he responds : “ ‘ Antinoiis, grievous wrong it were to send, Unwilling from this palace, her who bore And nursed me.’ ” And further down he says : “ ‘ For then my mother, going forth, would call On the grim Furies, and the general curse Of all men would be on me.’ ” Justifying thus his unwillingness to dismiss his mother, it becomes manifest that, not only the reverence due PARENTAL LOVE. 199 to the parents was considered a sacred duty, but its neglect was a sin severely punished by the gods. Such is the meaning of the verse— “ The Furies wait upon the elder-bom." The fact that the authority passed over to the eldest-born in the absence of the father, reminds us, in some respects, of feudal times, and the custom is still found among the English. Other nations, at least until the children become of age, recognize the widowed mother as the mistress of the house, while, during the Homeric years, the son, as soon as the necessary wisdom was developed in him, assumed the highest responsibility, exercising an authority so absolute, that he even gave his mother away in a sec¬ ond marriage! We find that Telemachos, previously considered only a boy, suddenly assuming authority, advises his mother to go about her own affairs : “ ‘ Withdraw, O queen, into thy bower; direct Thy household tasks, the distaff and the web. And bid thy maidens speed the work. The bow Belongs to men, and most to me ; for here. Within these walls, the authority is mine.’ ” Penelope not only instantly obeyed the above or¬ der, but— . astonished, heard him and withdrew, But kept her son’s wise sayings in her heart. 200 THE FAMILY. And then, ascending to her bower, among Her maids, she wept her well-beloved lord.” When the father was present, it appears that there was no definite time at which the sons ‘^became of age ” and assumed authority. The old Nestor and Priam still held undisputed sway, and they only ruled the family. But Laertes seems to have surrendered his authority to Odysseus long before the Trojan war, and to have withdrawn to his country-seat, wholly de¬ voting himself to its cultivation. Peleus, with much difficulty, retained his authority at an advanced age, and only because, by the absence of Achilles, he was deprived of a natural successor. On the other hand. Telemachos, hardly yet a young man, gradually as¬ sumed authority ; and, finally, by the advice of Ath¬ ene, completely exercised it. Brotherly Love. —Scarcely less tender than filial love was the love between brothers. As a proof of this may be cited the two sons of Atreus : “ When Agamemnon, king of men, beheld The dark blood flowing from his brother’s wound. He shuddered. ...” Sighing as he spoke, and taking the hand of his dearly beloved brother, he expresses to him most ten¬ derly his heart-felt sorrow. Even should . sacred Troy,” he says, ^‘in accordance with the prophecy of ILLEGITIMA TE CHILDREN, 201 the gods, be some time captured, were I to lose you before this event takes place— “ ‘ May the earth open to receive my bones! ’ " Again, when Hektor, advancing in the midst, chides the Greeks for their cowardice, calling them “ Grecian women, no longer Grecian men,” and Mene- laos rushes forth to punish his insolence, with what solicitude does Agamemnon hasten to prevent an en¬ counter with the unconquerable hero ! In like manner, Briseis deems the loss of her mother and husband not greater than the calamity which deprived her of “ . . . ‘ the three brothers whom my mother bore.’ ” Recalling, also, what has been said of the love which bound together the blooming Nausikaa and her brothers, we may easily notice the art with which the poet sets it forth. The graceful and charming maid, speaking to Odysseus concerning her mother, always uses the plural, as if her brothers were ever present in her memory. Illegitimate Children. —Before finishing our re¬ marks in regard to the domestic relations, it seems im¬ perative to add a few words concerning the children born by concubines. The illegitimate children seem to have been edu- 202 THE TAMIL y. cated in the father’s house, and to have enjoyed the same care as those lawfully born, with whom, indeed, they often shared the paternal property. Thus we find the son of Menelaos, born of a concubine, married, finally, to a noble Spartan woman. Meiners condemns this custom, but his opinion seems to us open to objection. In the first place, the strict Christian ordinances as to the sanctity of marriage were then certainly lacking; but, in truth, the tender¬ ness of the Homeric epoch appears more in accordance with the true spirit of Christianity, than that strict severity which punishes weak and innocent creatures for the failings of their parents. On the other hand, it should be considered that the case depended not on right or privilege^ but on tenderness of heart, for the fate of such children was determined by the disposition of the wife, and the wisdom of those Homeric women must not be unduly condemned, who, for the sake of har¬ mony and family peace, pardoned the faithless acts of their husbands. Thus in the case of Pedaeus, son of Antenor: “ And then, by Meges was Pedaeus slain, Antenor’s base-born son, whose noble wife, Theano, reared him with as fond a care As her own children, for her husband's sake.” Odysseus, in his false autobiography, relates that. SLA VER Y. 203 although in the paternal mansion there were many other sons born “legitimately from a wedded wife,” while “a bought concubine bore him,” nevertheless, his father, Kastor, the son of Hylakides, “honored him equally with his other children.” After his fa¬ ther’s death, the sons distributed by lot his great riches, “ ‘ Small was the portion they assigned to me.’ ” Wherefore, it becomes manifest that really the ille¬ gitimate son possessed no actual privilege. But that often a truly brotherly love sprang up, we may see from the example of Isos and Antiphos : “ The monarch stripped the slain, and, leaving them With their white bosoms bare, went on to slay Isus and Antiphus, King Priam’s sons,— One bom in wedlock, one of baser birth,— Both in one chariot. Isus held the reins ’ While Antiphus, the high-bom brother, fought.” Nor was the fate of daughters born from such rela¬ tions in any way worse. Thus Medesikaste, an ille¬ gitimate daughter of Priam, was given in marriage to Imbrios, son of Mentor, who, before the arrival of the Achaians, lived at Pedaeum ; but, after that, escaped to Priam— "... and was honored as his son.” Slavery. —The existence of slavery among the Hellenes is certainly a fact much to be regretted. 204 THE FAMILY. Among that people, who esteemed liberty as man’s noblest possession, and who sacrificed everything in its behalf, there lived millions of unfortunate beings, deprived of this supreme right, and considered as mere movable property. But is this, after all, so strange, w'hen even in the Christian countries of Europe, slav¬ ery received its death-wound only within recent years, having survived through centuries of increasing civ¬ ilization, and successfully resisted the endeavors of the loftiest minds to effect its overthrow ? The emancipation of the serfs in Russia and Rou- mania is an event of yesterday, while to this day the agricultural class of Ireland and other countries, re¬ mains in a condition of abject slavery. Our own re¬ public also was delivered from this devouring monster only by a bloody strife, while the Latin races of South America still suffer from its fatal presence. Little wonder is it then that slavery, which flourished among all ancient nations, is met with among the Greeks, both of the Homeric and classical periods. Nevertheless, the enchantment of ancient civilization is so great that one who has been initiated into th_e pure philosophy of Aris¬ totle and the divine teachings of Plato, concerning soul and freedom, beholds with feelings of irrepressible sorrow and astonishment that stain so repugnant to the spirit of the picture. Contemporary civilization is apt to appear to us SLA VER Y. 205 like the first light of day, while the six thousand years which history has obscurely recorded assume their true worth, that of a moment escaped from the ever¬ lasting line of centuries. Our epoch, the wonders of which we so much extol, and which we deem the virile age of manhood, perchance is, after all, but one of its hours of childhood, and we mistake for midday the first light of early morn. It is a curious fact, indeed, that the noblest char¬ acteristics of the Greek urged him to slavery. Among the barbarians the cause was the indolence and lazi¬ ness of the people, while the Greek sanctioned the practice from a feeling of his own superiority. Con¬ sidering, as he did, all who did not belong to his race as inferior beings, and avoiding every humble occupa¬ tion, he prided himself in the belief that he was created for the exercise of arms and liberal pursuits, while the rest of mankind, whom he commonly called barbarians, were intended to serve him. Herodotus says that slavery did not exist among the pan-archaic Greeks. But that pan-archaic epoch seems to us to be mythical, for we know that, advancing to the extreme limits of history, we find slavery in full vogue, and during the Homeric epoch it was common enough. This slavery was in every way complete. The owner was the absolute master of the fortune and life of the slaves, whose value depended upon their 10 2o6 THE FAMILY. proficiency in the various pursuits. Thus Agamemnon consents to restore Briseis, provided a prize equal to her be given him. Antilochos, the son of Nestor, in enumerating the property of Achilles, counts the maid¬ servants among the gold, brass, sheep, and mules. Nevertheless, even here the humane and provident spirit of the Homeric epoch becomes manifest. Although the slaves were the absolute property of their masters, the kindness and consideration displayed toward them rendered their bitter lot not only bear¬ able, but often acceptable. In fact, when we observe the servants of to-day, who are deemed the lowest members of the household, we come to the conclusion that the noble instinct of the Homeric times consid¬ ered the household slave and the captive in war as, at least, fellow-beings. In truth, slavery was kept up rather as a social ne¬ cessity, and, instead of its usual abhorrent form, it took a milder type. The assertion that Christianity first of all rendered to man his true worth, naturally seems to us under this view exaggerated, and we fully accept the opinion of Birnbaum, who says, “ As Christianity is the revelation of the true and of the good, thus we recognize among the Greeks and Romans likewise the revelation of the lofty and of the beautiful.” Hilie also finds great similarity between the princi¬ ples of Homer and the Christian teaching, for he says SLA VER K 207 There is no doubt whatever that the condition of the slaves in the Homeric epoch was incomparably preferable to that in more recent years, even among those nations whose habits have been recreated by the gospel." We often find the mistress of the household work¬ ing in the midst of her maid-servants, and conversing with them on various subjects as among equals. Thus Odysseus sends the maid-servants to Penelope, say¬ ing : “ ‘ Ye maidens of a sovereign absent long. Withdraw to where your high-born mistress sits; There turn the spindle, seeking to amuse Her lonely hours.’ ’’ We have elsewhere noticed the Princess Nausikaa working, eating, and playing together with her maid¬ servants, whom she calls “ friends." This epithet Pe¬ nelope herself uses, while the nurse Eurykleia and Eurynome call her ‘‘ my child" and “ dear child." Telemachos calls the old swine-herd Eumaeos “ fa¬ ther," and when, on his return from Pylos, he goes to his tent, the joy of the old man knows no bounds : “... As when a father takes Into his arms a son whom tenderly He loves, returning from a distant land In the tenth year,—his only son, the child Of his old age, for whom he long has borne 2o8 THE FAMILY. Hardships and grief,—so lo Telemachus The swine-herd clung, and kissed him o’er and o’er, As one escaped from death, and shedding still Warm tears, bespake him thus with winged words.” It becomes apparent, from the above, that the mas¬ ters treated the slaves, and the latter the former, just as if they really formed a part of the family. Fried¬ reich thinks that there was a difference between the embrace bestowed on a slave and that on a relation ; but, in our opinion, valid proofs as to this are wanting. According to the above writer, the difference is shown in the passage describing the return of Telemachos from Pylos to the paternal mansion, when Penelope, having rushed out of her room— “. . . weeping, threw her arms about her son. And kissed him on his forehead and on both His glorious eyes ”; while Eurykleia and the other maids, on perceiving him— “. . . they gave Fond welcome, kissing him upon the brow And shoulders.” , But there is no certainty that this difference, which is but once mentioned, was the usual practice ; for, indeed, we find the second verse quoted above at¬ tributed also to the old swine-herd Eumaeos. That a few of the maids were educated within the house, we may infer from the instance of Melantho: SLA VER V. 209 “ . . . she was bom To Dolius, but Penelope had reared The damsel as a daughter of her own, And given her, for her pleasure, many things.” But, being naturally ungrateful and of wicked dispo¬ sition— “ Yet for the sorrows of Penelope Melantho little cared. Euiy'machus Had made the girl his paramour.” Eumaeos says : “' But from the queen I never have a word Or deed of kindness, since that evil came Upon her house,—that crew of lawless men.’ ” There was no distinctive wearing-apparel in use among the slaves. They wore the same clothes as the free citizens, and these were often of value, having been given them as presents by their masters. Thus Eumaeos relates that, on the day he was to leave the house of Laertes, his mistress gave him— “ ' Garments of price, a tunic, and a cloak. And sandals for my feet.’ ” The maids not only dressed, bathed, and anointed themselves as their more fortunate free sisters, but even danced with the men. It has been already no¬ ticed that Odysseus, in order that the killing of the suitors might not at once become known in the city, 210 THE FAMILY. prepared a feast in the palace, in which the maid¬ servants appeared splendidly attired. In case a female slave remained for a long time in the house, or educated any of the children of her mas¬ ter, she was deemed as belonging to the family, and was raised above the other slaves, who owed her re¬ spect and obedience. To such a faithful and tried slave was intrusted the keeping of the store-house and the oversight of the entire dwelling. It was to Eury- kleia alone that Telemachos trusted the secret of his intended journey, and she complains to Odysseus, on his return, that the impudent “ women ” paid neither to Penelope nor to herself the respect which was their due. Long service on the part of the men was also gen¬ erously rewarded. Thus Eumaeos says that the death of Odysseus deprived him of rewards which he cer¬ tainly expected from him : “ . . . ‘ The gods themselves Prevent, no doubt, the safe return of him Who loved me much, and would ere this have given What a kind lord is wont to give his hind,— A house, a croft, the wife whom he has wooed, Rewarding faithful services which God Hath prospered, as he here hath prospered mine.’ ” Odysseus also promises to the rest of the swine¬ herds, in case he should overcome the suitors, wives SLA VER Y, 211 and rewards and houses built purposely near his own palace. He assures them that they would in future be his “ friends,” and just as if they were related to Telemachos. Monbel considers these promises tan¬ tamount to liberty, but he is in error, inasmuch as the slaves, though married, always served their mas¬ ter, but their condition was materially improved. It was for this reason that Odysseus promised to build their houses near his own palace, whereas these dwell¬ ings were usually scattered in various quarters. Knight was accordingly wrong to omit these verses in his edition of Homer, “ on the ground of being antagonistic to the spirit of the Homeric epoch.” The devotion of the slaves toward their masters was very great. We have many examples of this, but it will suffice to mention the following lines concerning the joy experienced by the servants upon the return of Odysseus. Having ascertained the unexpected event from an old woman— "... forth they issued, bearing in their hands Torches, and, crowding round Ulysses, gave Glad greeting, seized his hands, embraced him, kissed His hands and brow and shoulders. The desire To weep for joy o’ercame the chief ; his eyes O’erflowed with tears; he sobbed; he knew them all.” The recognition by the hero of all these women, after an absence of twenty years, is a clear proof of 212 THE FAMILY. the close relations which joined the master to the slaves. Dolios, also, the aged servant of Odysseus, having learned of his return, hastened with his two sons, but remained “astonished in the hall,” out of respect for the king. Odysseus, however, recognized them, and “ at once called them to him, with friendly words, and invited them to supper ” : He spake, and Dolius sprang with outstretched arms, And seized Ulysses by the hand, and kissed The wrist.” Enough has been said concerning the sorrow of Eumaeos, who says : _ " ‘ Here, sorrowfully sitting, I lament A godlike master.’ ” Yet this faithful servant shows his devotion, not only by his joy upon the return of Odysseus, but by the efficacious assistance which he furnished him in killing the suitors. On the other hand, excepting the swine¬ herd Melanthios, who, ascending to the room of Odys¬ seus, took away the arms to give them to the suitors, ' and the faithless maid-servants, no other example is found in the poems of the ingratitude of servants to their masters, or of the punishment of a wicked slave. There are writers who condemn the hanging of the maid-servants as needlessly cruel. In fact, it is a fearful thing to think of these women hanging, “ as SLA VER r. 213 broad-winged thrushes or wild pigeons,” from the rope which Telemachos, for this purpose, ^‘made fast to a high pole, and the other end he wound about the kitchen-vault.” Reading the following lines— “ . . . as, when a flock Of broad-winged thrushes or wild pigeons strike A net within a thicket, as they seek Their perch, and find unwelcome durance there. So hung the women, with their heads a-row. And cords about their necks, that they might die A miserable death. A little while. And but a little, quivered their loose feet In air one sees for a long time in his dreams those quiver¬ ing forms, and is haunted by the lamentable picture which follows the bloody murder of the suitors. Un¬ der this view, the end of the “ Odyssey ” is certainly one of the most tragic scenes which the human mind could have invented ; but, whosoever considers the va¬ rious crimes, both of the suitors and of the maids, finds the punishment not in excess of the guilt. The principal way by which the ancients procured their slaves was by capture in war. When a city was taken, the men -were put to the sword, while the wom¬ en and children were made slaves. Odysseus, relat¬ ing to Eumaeos his sail to Egypt, says that his com¬ panions, contrary to his orders— 214 THE FAMILY. “ . . . ‘ ravaged the fair fields Of the Egyptians, slew them, and bore off Their wives and little ones.’ " Elsewhere he relates that the wind, having driven his ships to Ismaros, a city in Thrace— “ . . . ‘I laid the city waste, And slew its dwellers, carried off their wives. And all their wealth.’ ” ' It is curious, however, to consider that, on both these occasions, the natives afterward assemble in great numbers, and inflict serious loss upon the invad¬ ers. Is this, perchance, a simple coincidence, or does the poet, condemning, in the depth of his noble soul, the unjust act, although in harmony with the customs of the century, manifest his real sentiments in record¬ ing the punishment following the act ? This feeling of the poet, if it existed, is, at any rate, above the epoch, for we have many examples in the poems of such enslaved persons considered as the natural sequence of the capture. Thus, it is said of Achilles, that he captured Briseis from Lyrnessos with much toil. When this same hero took Tenedos, the Achaians gave Hekamede, the daugh¬ ter of the magnanimous Arsinoos, to Nestor, as the wisest of their counselors.” Such, too, was the fate of most of the Trojan women, after the fall of their city. The fact that SLA VERY. 215 neither the wives of the noble-born, nor the queens themselves, escaped this fearful lot, but were, on the contrary, degraded by the conquerors into simple slaves, in order to impress upon them more deeply their utter defeat, the words of Hektor, who foresaw the ominous future, teach us : “ . . . ‘ Thou in Argos, then Shalt, at another’s bidding, ply the loom. And from the fountain of Messeis draw Water, or from the Hypereian spring. Constrained unwilling, by thy cruel lot. And then shalt some one say who sees thee weep, “ This was the wife of Hector, most renowned Of the horse-taming Trojans, when they fought Around their city.” ’ ” It appears that the booty was distributed by lot, and that the chiefs took the largest and best portions. Thus, Thersites, blaming Agamemnon, says to him : “ ‘ Thy tents are full of chosen damsels, given To thee before all others, by the Greeks, Whene’er we take a city.’ ” Achilles, also, rejecting the proposals of the em¬ bassy sent to him by Agamemnon, enumerates among the effects to be carried on board his vessels the wom¬ en given to him: “ ‘ And thither I shall carry with me gold And ruddy brass, and women of fair forms. And burnished steel.’ ” 2i6 THE FAMILY. No mention, of course, is made of male captives taken in war; for, during the heroic age, all soldiers captured were killed. It would appear, therefore, that by the term “ spear-captured ” is meant those enslaved in early youth, and who had grown up to manhood in the house of their master. Some think that Homer makes a distinction between those ‘‘ captured by the spear ”—i. e., captives made in war—and the slaves born in slavery. Nitzsch and Terpstra, however, op¬ pose this view, and we agree with their opinion ; for it appears that, if there were any slaves at all born in slavery, these at least were extremely rare, inasmuch as child-bearing was not allowed to those unfortunate beings, and permission for marriage was granted them only as a reward of long service. In fact, the ancients did not seek to increase the number of their slaves through marriage, and, when marriage was allowed, complete emancipation usually followed. Hence, it is not at all probable that chil¬ dren born under such auspices were characterized aft¬ erward by the surname of ‘‘ slave.” Herodotos, also, especially recommends single slaves. Although most of the slaves were captured in war, the slave-trade was also in full existence. In those early times commerce differed little from piracy. The pirates, secretly approaching unprotected shores, seized as many of the inhabitants as they could, and then SLA VER y. 217 sold them far away from their native land. Horrible as this may be, how does it differ from the slave-trade in the early part of the present century, or the man¬ ner in which the harems of the Ottomans are filled to this very day ? Eurykleia and Eumaeos were thus carried away, when still young, by Phoenikian pirates, and were aft¬ erward bought by Laertes. He bought Eurykleia “ in her early bloom, for twenty beeves,” and, accord¬ ing to the narration of Eumaeos to Odysseus, they had, at the house of his father, a Phoenikian woman as a nurse, who was seized once, as she was returning from the fields, by Taphian pirates, and was bought from them by his own father. Now, this same woman made agreement with Phoenikian pirates, who had landed on those distant shores— “ Shrewd fellows they, and brought in their black ships Large stores of trinkets,” and ran away with them, carrying along with her the child, hoping for rich reward : “ . . . ‘ I am nurse to the young heir Of the good man who dwells in yonder halls,— A shrew boy for his years, who oft goes out With me,—and I will lead him to the ship, And he will bring, in any foreign land To which ye carry him a liberal price.’ ” 2i8 THE TAMIL V. It appears not only that slaves brought from dis¬ tant lands were sold in Hellas, but that slaves from Greece were exported to be sold elsewhere. Thus we see the suitors scoffing at Odysseus and Eumaeos, who, even in disguise, propose to Telemachos their exportation to Sicily, there to be sold: “. . . ‘If thou take My counsel, which I give thee for thy good, Let them at once be put on board a bark Of many oars, and we will send them hence To the Sicilians; they will bring a price.’ ” Hence, Timaeos is in error, or at least he exag¬ gerates, when he says, “ Among the Greeks it was not customary to be served by bought slaves.” The above instances, doubtless, formed exceptions; nor did the commerce in slaves exist at that time as a recognized institution. This lamentable traffic was be¬ gun much later, the Chians first having introduced it. The Value of Slaves. —The value of slaves dif¬ fered according to circumstances. Laertes is said to have bought Eurykleia for twenty oxen—a great and very unusual price : “ And in his palace honored equally With his chaste wife.” In fact, Achilles, in the funeral games performed in honor of Patroklos, among other prizes— THE DUTIES OF SERVANTS, 219 “. . . placed In view a damsel for the vanquished, trained In household arts ; four beeves were deemed her price,” from which it becomes apparent that the value of a good servant was somewhere between these two num¬ bers. Reitemeier accepts as a medium price ten oxen; and Lenz, after expressing his doubts, finally agrees with him. Nothing is known as to the value of the male servants. Reitemeier thinks that they were worth about as much as the women, and conjectures that Odysseus, who had fifty female servants and probably an equal number of male servants, had in them property amounting to about one thousand oxen. This estimate does not seem too high for an epoch during which the cattle, with which the slaves were always counted, formed the principal part of property. It suffices to mention the example of Iphidamas, who granted to his betrothed, as gifts before her marriage, one hundred oxen and a thousand sheep and goats. We also find mentioned female slaves from Lesbos, Skyros, Epeiros, Sicily, Phoenike, and Sidon, who were pre-eminently esteemed, probably on account of their excellence in the works of art peculiar to women. The Duties of Servants. —Many and various were the duties of slaves, inasmuch as to them all household and agricultural labors were intrusted. 220 THE FAMILY, The men were usually employed for the heavier tasks, those remaining in the house taking care of the stables and harnessing the animals : “. . . The grooms obeyed, And, making ready in the outer court The strong-wheeled chariot, led the harnessed mules Under the yoke, and made them fast.” They also slaughtered the animals needed for the table, and busied themselves with sundry similar mat¬ ters. The greater number, however, were farmers, gardeners, herdsmen, and, in a word, workmen of every kind. They cultivated the lands of their mas¬ ters, grazed their flocks, and took care of everything relating to them. They were found in different con¬ ditions, depending naturally upon their respective du¬ ties and the length of their service. Thus, a few performed the duties and possessed the authority of overseers ; and the swine-herd Eu- maeos, though never truly emancipated, had a servant of his own, who helped him in all his work, and whom he had bought with his own money. The work of the women, as has been elsewhere mentioned, was confined within the house. In the morning they made the fire, and kept it burning throughout the day ; carried water from the well ; ar¬ ranged the rooms, swept the carpets, and spread the coverings over the furniture. When the hour of sup- THE DUTIES OF SERVANTS. 22 1 per approached, they prepared the table, brought the bread and the dishes, and mixed the wine in the gob¬ lets. They brought water to their guests, as they re¬ clined upon the couches, to wash their hands, and poured it out of golden pitchers into silver basins. When supper was over, they took the tables away, and cleansed the dishes and cooking-utensils. They also bathed and anointed their masters as well as the guests, to whom, after the bath, they car¬ ried clean garments : “ And she had given her bright-haired maidens charge To place an ample caldron on the fire. That Hector, coming from the battle-field. Might find the warm bath ready.” In the evening they prepared the beds, within the house for their masters, and for the strangers, if there -were any, in the corridor, and conducted them as far as the door, carrying torches. This was due to the fact that lighting the various parts of the house by oil, or some other such substance, was as yet unknown, wherefore, when any went about the dwelling, torch- bearers always led the way. Eurykleia, who reared Telemachos, and was considered by him as a second mother, follows him within his sleeping-room, awaits until he has undressed himself, hangs up his clothes, having carefully folded them, and then withdraws, having shut the door behind him : 222 THE FAMILY. “ . . . She loved Her young lord more than all the other maids, And she had nursed him in his tender years. He opened now the chamber-door, and sat Upon the couch, put his soft tunic off, And placed it in the prudent matron’s hands. She folded it and smoothed it, hung it near To that fair bed, and, going quickly forth. Pulled at the silver ring to close the door. And drew the thong that moved the fastening bolt. He lapped in the soft fleeces all night long Thought of the voyage Pallas had ordained.” Another occupation of the women was the grind¬ ing of the barley, and probably the making of bread. Twelve women were in the house of Odysseus, grind¬ ing corn throughout the day ; one of them, who was of a weak constitution, kept toiling on, and Odysseus heard her working in the depth of the night. When the mistress went into the doma^ her women followed, prepared her seat, and brought the materials for embroidery. They followed her, also, in case she went out of the house : “ As thus he pondered, Helen, like in form To Dian of the golden distaff, left Her high-roofed chamber, where the air was sweet With perfumes, and approached. Adrasta placed A seat for her of costly workmanship ; Alcippe brought a mat of soft, light wool. And Phylo, with a silver basket came. Given by Alcandra, wife of Polybus, Who dwelt at Thebes, in Egypt, and whose house THE NUMBER OF SLAVES. 223 Was rich in things of price. Two silver baths He gave to Menelaus, tripods two, And talents ten of gold.” They also were sent out of the house to execute various messages : “ ‘ Telemachus dispatch to where I dwelt Thy serving women ; I would send to thee At once the gifts which Menelaus gave.’ ” The Number of Slaves. —The number of slaves mentioned is considered by many to be wholly incredi¬ ble. Thus, Odysseus says that once he had “ten thousand slaves ” ; but this evidently is an exaggerated statement, although the royal house of Ithaka un¬ doubtedly had many possessions, and the number of its dependents was naturally great. It has been no¬ ticed, on the other hand, that there were in the house of Odysseus fifty handmaids, the same number as in the palace of Alkinoos. Many reasons justify us in believing in the great number of slaves, without accepting the erroneous opin¬ ion of Reitemeier, who claims that the Homeric house was a sort of manufacturing establishment, and that the articles made there by the numerous slaves were sold. In the first place, we must not forget how many were the inhabitants of each Homeric house, when the sons, after their marriage, took up their abode in it. Let us not forget, also, that the “ noble- 224 THE FAMILY. born,” as well as their friends, passed the day and feasted in the house of the king or ruler, which natu¬ rally necessitated in such houses a large service. As has been noticed, twelve women, probably not counted among the fifty, ground corn, while twenty others were permanently employed to carry water. Again, though the handiwork of the women was not sold, a great number of these were employed in making articles for domestic use. The garments alone of a family, such as that of Priam, composed of sixty-three various dwellings, could readily keep fifty women busy in pre¬ paring them. Besides, it has been noticed that trans¬ parent veils, many-colored carpets, and net-coverings formed a great part of the property of a well-regulated family, and were especially esteemed. Hence, not only the store-houses were kept full of such embroideries, but these formed one of the principal gifts offered to strangers. Nor were such gifts few or cheap, as the example of Odysseus teaches us, when he relates to Laertes that once he gave as a gift— “ ‘ Seven talents of wrought gold, a silver cup, All over rough with flowers, twelve single cloaks, Twelve mats, twelve mantles passing beautiful. And tunics twelve, and, chosen by himself. Twelve graceful damsels, skilled in household arts." Thus, in truth, when we consider that the women themselves formed part of the gifts, their great num- HIRED DOMESTICS. 225 ber need no longer astonish us. Beauty was valued in a slave in an equal degree as in a free woman, and often the same honorary titles are attributed to both by the poet. Hired Domestics. —Besides the slaves, there ap¬ pear to have been, during the Homeric epoch, hired domestics also—i. e., free citizens who, on account of poverty, or from other reasons, went into service to gain a livelihood. Odysseus appears to have had such hired shepherds, besides his own slaves, inasmuch as it is said that— “ Twelve herds of kine, that on the mainland graze, Are his, as many flocks of sheep, of swine As many droves; as many flocks of goats Are tended there by strangers, and by hinds. His servants ” . . . . Such, indeed, was also the beloved old servant of Helen in Lakedaemon, the form of whom Aphrodite assumed: “ . . . She took the form And features of a spinner of the fleece. An aged dame, who used to comb for her The fair white wool in Lacedaemon’s halls. And loved her much ”... Finally, there were women also who went out daily to work ^‘to earn sufficient food to nourish their children." PART THIRD. DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. CHAPTER I. Clothing — Apparel of Women — The Hair — Sandals—Gloves— Ornaments. Clothing. —The Hellenic dress in use throughout antiquity, even during the richest period, as compared with other contemporary styles, was extremely simple. The mildness of the climate, the inborn love of the beautiful, together with the absence of the notion that modesty demands the concealment of the body by a useless weight of clothing, limited the dress to what was absolutely necessary. In Hellas, where the yearning for the beautiful was found both in public and private life, naturally that noblest creation of nature, the human body, was wor¬ shiped in art. It inspired poets and haunted the dreams of sculptors, who afterward materialized their visions in the peerless form of Aphrodite and that of the virgin Athene. CLOTHING. 227 From earliest childhood, by means of exercises in the open air, and gymnastic training, the greatest pos¬ sible care was taken to develop in both sexes beauty and symmetry of form ; and when the age of woman¬ hood was reached, and this beauty bloomed in all its wealth, its non-concealment by superfluous garments was fully justified, and with well-merited pride the maiden displayed either a well-formed foot or a breast promising to rear heroes. In time there arose certain minor changes in regard to dress, which were introduced especially after the wars with the Medes, and several objects of rich adornment, before unknown, were brought into use ; but in its main features the dress was little altered. During the Homeric age, therefore, we find the dress nearly the same as that in vogue in later years, and the beautiful Aspasia was not much more elaborately attired than the wise Penelope. The principal article of dress among the Greeks was an even, square, or long garment, thrown picturesquely around the body, or gracefully folded. To render the foldings of this gar¬ ment as attractive as possible was the chief care of the one wearing it, and the changes of style in the various epochs were limited to the ornaments upon this gar¬ ment or to other trivial improvements. Two classes of wearing-apparel existed—the under-garment, worn next 228 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. to the body, and the outer garment, worn in the form of a mantle. Apparel of the Men. —The men wore next to the body the chitoriy a piece of cloth, usually woolen, folded upon the chest, and reaching not quite to the knee. This was adjusted on the shoulder by a buckle or brooch where the two ends came together. Through¬ out its entire length the side remained open and free, except where it was held together by the brooch. On the other side, there was an opening for the right arm. The arms remained bare. Around the waist a belt was worn, which drew in the chiton in thick folds, and as this garment was drawn up by the belt at pleasure, it was made much shorter, so as not to prove an im¬ pediment in walking or running : “... He rose, And drew his tunic o’er his breast, and laced The graceful sandals to his well-shaped feet.” “. . . When Telemachus Knew of the king’s approach, the hero threw In haste his tunic o’er his noble form. And over his broad shoulders flung a cloak Of ample folds.” The chlaina was worn over the chiton. This was either square or circular in shape, and open under the left armpit. It was carried over the right shoulder, APPAREL OF THE MEN. 229 and the end then thrown over the left. The chlaina was usually woolen, and formed the best part of man’s attire. It is called thick and greats purple^ wooly^ or red, and was usually adorned with golden or other splendid embroideries. It was worn as a protection against the cold, and was also used as a covering during the night. It is probable, however, that it was especially intended for out-door use. The expression double chlaina, in opposition to the single, means not that it really was double, or formed of two different materials, or that it had a double weight, but rather that it was double in length, folded and worn in the same way as the single chlaina. This was probably due to a greater richness of attire, or to the fact that it was worn during the cold season of the year ; and perhaps the winter chlaina was thus termed in distinction from that worn in summer. The opinion of the renowned Winckelmann, that the double chlaina was one with an inside lining, while the single chlaina was made without it, seems to us unfounded. There is nothing which justifies this view. Another garment was the pharos, perhaps larger than the chlaina, because it was also worn around the head. The pharos was the mantle de facto, the warm¬ est garment, and used probably only on extremely cold days. The heroes, in time of war, instead of a pharos or chlaina, appear to have worn the skins of animals. 11 230 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. Agamemnon is said to have worn a lion’s skin ; Mene- laos and Paris, that of a panther. But these skins form an exception, nor are they numbered among the usual garments. Apparel of Women. —The women wore a chi- touy in every respect like that of the men, but much longer, and reaching to the ground. This chiion was looped around the waist, and the care and attention to the symmetry of its folds were naturally still greater among the women. The chiton worn by them, on ac¬ count of its greater length, admitted of more embroid¬ ery and adornment. Hence the adjectives attributed by Homer, deep-girdled^ with deep folds^ gracefully girdled^ with leautiful girdles. When freedom or quick¬ ness of movement was required, this chiton^ which reached to the feet, was lifted from the ground. Thus the two daughters of Keleos, while hastening to bring the good news to Demeter, that her prayer was accepted by their mother, on going down the precipitous road beyond Eleusis, lifted up the chiton. Both married and single women, without exception, wore the belt, which was broad, and richly adorned with gold and silver. Kpeplos was worn over the chiton. This peploSy so often mentioned by Homer, was a large garment of transparent linen, supported upon the breast by a clasp, usually of gold. It fell in graceful folds and reached APPAREL OF WOMEN. 231 almost to the ground. Hence the adjective wearing trailing robes. Besides the clasp upon the breast, it ap¬ pears that there were, on various parts of the peplos^ others holding it, and contributing to the greater beauty of its folds. Thus we find a peplos held by twelve clasps : ** The herald of Antinous brought to him A robe of many colors, beautiful And ample, with twelve golden clasps, which each Had its well-fitted eye.” This peplos was adorned with gold and many-col¬ ored embroideries, but was especially esteemed by rea¬ son of its transparency. Hence the expression thin^ delicate pieces of fine Imen refers to the peplos itself. Bottiger is much in error when he says that this was similar to the Roman palla. The adjective double, which we have found attributed to the chlaina, is also given to the peplos, probably for the same reason. It is shown by this, as it has already been stated, that this adjective had reference to the length, and not to the weight, which for the peplos would have been a special disadvantage, while, on the other hand, we find that the double peplos was the most valued. According to the conjecture of Kophar, the peplos was made of webs of two different colors, the one of which formed pictures upon the other. This opinion, however, seems 232 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. little to be trusted, although it may be supported by the fact that the double peplos was usually adorned with pictures. “ . . . She drew near To Helen, in the palace, weaving there An ample web, a shining double-robe. Whereon were many conflicts fairly wrought. Endured by the horse-taming sons of Troy, And brazen-mailed Achaians, for her sake. Upon the field of Mars.” We do not, however, agree with Kophar, because we know that the woven peplos was white, and on it pictures were worked afterward. Nor can the suppo¬ sition of Kophar be accepted that the weaving in of the pictures was known during the Homeric age, be¬ cause this art, being most difficult, has been brought to perfection only in our own times, and by reason of the most improved machinery. It has already been stated that the maid-servants were dressed like free women ; but it seems probable that there was, at least, some difference as to the peploSy inasmuch as it was worn by them much short¬ er. On this account the adjective of the flowing peplos^ used by Homer, was deemed specially praiseworthy. Besides the peplos, which, as it is evident, supplied the place of the chlaina in men, it appears that the women sometimes wore a pharos, perhaps when they THE HAIR, 233 went out in the winter-time. ' Thus, it is said of Kalypso and Kirke, that they wore a silver pharos. But, on the other hand, it must be observed that this is attributed only to those two goddesses, whence the conjecture may be made that an exception is intended here, and that in the open country and in remote islands the women dressed more after the style of men. At any rate, it appears that the female pharos did not greatly differ from that used by men, although little is definitely known on this point. The Hair. —The greatest possible attention was paid in Hellas, especially during the Homeric period, to the beauty of the hair. Whenever mention is made of the Achaians, they are nearly always called ‘‘ the long-haired.” The gods themselves felt elated at the possession of rich and abundant hair. Zeus, as an evidence of exceptional worth and magnificence, is described as having long and curling hair. Hera braids her hair in fragrant and divine curls. Athene, Kirke, Kalypso, and several nymphs, are always hon¬ ored by the adjectives the beautiful-haired,” “ long¬ haired,” etc. Apollo is called “ with locks unshorn.” “. . . When thus her shapely form Had been anointed, and her hands had combed Her tresses, she arranged the lustrous curls, Ambrosial, beautiful, that clustering hung Round her immortal brow.” 234 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. Fair hair was especially esteemed by Homer, and was attributed to most of the heroes. Thus Achilles, Radamanthos, Menelaos, and Paris, were said to have fair hair, which was often compared to the blossom of the hyacinth. It results from the above that baldness was deemed an ugly and unsightly defect, on which account it was attributed to Thersites. So general was the custom among the Greeks to wear the hair long, that in this respect they were distinguished from the barbarians. The epithet, “with tufts of streaming hair,” was ap¬ plied to the Thracians, because they shaved the head, as at this day, and left only upon the top a growing tuft. The men usually wore their hair brushed back; sometimes they fastened it in a knot on the top of the head. This was accomplished by tying together a few hairs in the middle, and then the two ends were puffed in the shape of a wasp. In such an instance gold and silver ornaments were placed upon the hair : “ His locks, which were like those the Graces wear. And ringlets, bound with gold and silver bands, Were drenched with blood 1 . . . ’' The heroes not only wore their hair long, but also the mustache and whiskers. This practice was so general, that in the pictures upon vessels describing HEAD-BANDS FOR WOMEN. 235 Agamemnon, Odysseus, or Ajax, together with barba¬ rians, the former are distinguished by the length of their whiskers. Head-Bands for Women. —The women appear to have twisted or plaited their hair ; but this is a point by no means free from controversy. In the fol¬ lowing lines— “ . . . The ornaments Dropped from her brow,—the wreath, the woven band. The net, the veil, which golden Venus gave ”— said of Andromache, upon her despair for the death of Hektor, a certain head-dress is mentioned, and also the words head-band^ net^ and veil are found. The head-band was probably a sort of cord wound round the front hair and bringing it together behind, where it was fastened by ribbons. The net was a sort of covering not unlike those of to-day, reaching as far as the head-band. The veil was a cloth, holding under the net the hair which hung back. The maidens often wore their hair entirely loose, or falling over their shoulders. Sometimes, however, it was arranged in curls, especially when it had a natu¬ ral bent for this. The men usually appear to have gone about with the head bare. But in the description of the agricult¬ ural clothing of Laertes, he is said to have worn “upon 236 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. his head a cap of goat-skin.” This may be deemed, however, as belonging to the farm-laborer only, just as, in the same description, it is said, “ He wore patched greaves of bullock’s hide upon his thighs,” as a pro¬ tection against thistles. Nowhere else do we find a hat mentioned. In time of war the head was, of # V course, covered with a helmet. The women, on the other hand, covered their heads, and two such head-coverings are mentioned— the Jzrede7nnon and the kalyptra. Various opinions have been expressed as to the meaning of these words. We think, however, that the kredemnon was a cloth tied around the head, and, in case of need, let loose over the face, like the veils on the hats of the women of to-day. The kalyptra was a similar covering, not tied, but simply thrown loosely around the head. In great feasts, and especially when there was drinking, the maidens adorned their hair with wreaths and flowers. Sandals. —During the Homeric period no shoes were used in the house. Sandals of hide were worn in the streets , only : “ . . . round his shapely feet Laced the becoming sandals.” The sandals were similar for both sexes, but those of the immortals, called the golden and the imperish- GLOVES. 237 able, had a peculiar force, which carried them, swift as the wind, over land and sea : “ She spake, and fastened underneath her feet The fair, ambrosial, golden sandals, worn To bear her over ocean like the wind, And o'er the boundless land.” The nobles especially wore sandals, and, on this account, Eumaeos deems it as a peculiar favor that the wife of Laertes, who had reared him as her own son, gave him, besides beautiful garments, sandals also. When, later, Eumaeos succeeded in attaining a place higher than that of a simple servant, he put on sandals, in order to go from his own hut to the palace of Odysseus. Telemachos, also, actuated by surpass¬ ing nobility and sympathy toward Odysseus, whom he considered as a simple beggar, gave him sandals in addition to clothing. Gloves. —Did the ancients of the Homeric epoch wear gloves ? This has been a fertile theme for inves¬ tigation. The word glove is found in the “ Odyssey,” in the following description of the farming-dress of Laertes : “ . . . He wore Patched greaves of bullock’s hide upon his thighs, A fence against the thorns ; and on his hands Gloves, to protect them from the prickly stems Of bramble; and upon his head a cap Of goat-skin.” 238 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS, Bottiger, Pape, Crusies, and Winckelmann under¬ stand the word according to its meaning of to-day. Thus these learned men, who fully accept “ the hat,’* believe that, during the Homeric times, gloves,—gen¬ erally considered an invention of the knightly ages,— were known. Hase, on the contrary, thinks that the Greek word has the same meaning with the French manche^ the German aerfnely or the English sleeve. He conjectures, in other words, that the chiton had long sleeves, reaching as far as the hands. But it has been noticed that this explanation can not be accepted, in¬ asmuch as the chito7i on the left remained open, and had on the right a simple opening for the arm. In our opinion, the matter is simple enough. Ho¬ mer says he had “on his hands gloves, to protect them from the prickly stems.” Apparently this re¬ fers to gloves made of hide, like the hat and the greaves worn by farmers to protect their hands during their work. The belief that the use of these gloves was general during a time when even shoes were rare¬ ly employed is absurd in the extreme. Finally, to man’s apparel must be added the sword, which was carried even in time of peace. Ornaments. —The desire to be admired is natural in woman, and beauty is the most powerful means of attracting this admiration. Nature has thus wisely de¬ creed. By her beauty and grace woman draws man OI^NAMENTS, 239 to her, fetters him, and, if she is happy in her choice, renders his existence almost divine. Her heart yearns for a return of her love, and, whenever this longing is fulfilled, her life becomes peaceful and happy. This desire of woman to render her companion happy we find even among the most barbarous nations, and in the least civilized epochs. During the Homeric epoch this feeling was strong¬ ly developed, and woman, besides her ordinary gar¬ ments, employed a multitude of objects known under the generic appellation of ornaments. First of all, there were in use ear-rings, commonly having the form of an olive, and made of costly materials or precious stones ; splendid necklaces, wrought of metal and am¬ ber ; bracelets of exquisite workmanship ; and beauti¬ ful pins for the hair, were all coquettishly used : “ . . . ‘ There I dwelt Nine years, and many ornaments I wrought Of brass—clasps, buckles, bracelets, necklaces.” A Phoenikian merchant, entering the house of Kte- sias, offers to sell a necklace : *‘. . . He, a cunning man. Came to my father’s house and brought with him A golden necklace set with amber beads. The palace maidens and the gracious queen. My mother, took it in their hands and gazed Upon it, and debated of its price.” 240 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. Days of public feasts, marriages, or even a simple, visit to the house of a friend, were happy events for the women, for they justified exactly, as at this day, the display of their ornaments. CHAPTER II. Baths — Anointing — Washing the feet — Banquets — Food and drink—Table furniture. Baths. —Baths were a special institution of the ancient Hellenic life. No religious superstition intro¬ duced them among the Eastern nations, but the warmth of the climate rendered them at once pleasing and necessary. Their effect in reviving the body, of which the ancients took far greater care than we of to-day, doubtless originated and strongly established them in the customs of the people. We find them already much employed in the Ho¬ meric epoch. As a proof of their constant use we may notice the multitude of the tripods mentioned, the number of which would be difficult to explain, other¬ wise than that they were used as adjuncts for the baths. In every well-to-do family there was a bath-room, I immediately outside of the doma^ and this contained one or more bath-tubs. It was probably the custom to bathe every morning, although nothing is said of 242 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. this by Homer. At all events, a very frequent use of the bath was made. It was customary for every guest, and also for the master of the house, on his return from a journey, to bathe. It ^would appear that not only on such occa¬ sions, but after every kind of overwork, a bath was taken to refresh the wearied body: “. . . They with delighted eyes Gazed, and descending to the polished baths They bathed. The attendant maids who at the bath Had ministered, anointing them with oil. Arrayed the strange guests in fleecy cloaks And tunics. . . . “. . . ‘ And, last, the fourth Brought water from the fountain, and beneath A massive tripod kindled a great fire And warmed the water. When it boiled within The shining brass, she led me to the bath. And washed me from the tripod. On my head And shoulders pleasantly she shed the streams That from my members took away the sense Of weariness, unmanning body and mind.’ ” The maid-servants, the relatives, and even the very daughters of the house, bathed or assisted the guest in bathing, and this was considered as the very first duty of hospitality. Thus the young Polykaste, daughter of Nestor, gave Telemachos his bath : “ Meantime, fair Polycast^, youngest bom Of Nestor’s daughters, gave Telemachus BA THS. 243 The bath ; and after he had bathed she shed A rich oil over him, and in a cloak Of noble texture and a tunic robed The prince, who, like a god in presence, left The bath, and took his place where Nestor sat." Much has been written upon this subject, and it has been the occasion of harsh censure. Learned men, like Meiners, attacked fiercely this Homeric cus¬ tom, accusing the women of the age of shamelessness and effrontery—a charge which does not speak well of their Homeric knowledge. Others, among whom Nagelsback is pre-eminent, adopted a different course, and avoided the true meaning of the words in the text. Still others supposed that those bathing wore in the bath a sort of garment, but this comical ex¬ planation of the difficulty finds no justification in Homer. Nitzsch, Ernesti, and a few others, explain the meaning of the Greek word to bathe," accord¬ ing to the Latin lavare fecit; that is to say, they sup¬ pose that, when Homer states that Polykaste bathed Telemachos, it means that she gave orders to this end, and watched for the faithful performance of her com¬ mands. But this explanation has no manifest proof. It is sufficient to recall the example of Helen, who alone recognized Odysseus, when he entered into Troy under the guise of a beggar, and swore to him “ as she was bathing him, ‘ to keep his entrance into the city a secret until he should safely return to the ships of the 244 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. Achaians.’ Does the above leave any doubt as to the real facts of the case ? ” Kbppen and Lenz confess the contrary, and not finding any escape, say that the cus¬ tom was in accordance with the simplicity of the epoch, and differed but little from the ideas of the middle ages, when the mistress bound up the wounds of the knights on their return from battle. To us, however, the difference between binding up a wound and giv¬ ing a bath seems not a small one, and, however sim¬ ple the Homeric habits may be considered, the exact meaning of the Greek word ‘‘ to bathe,” as in the case of Telemachos, by a maiden such as Polykaste, has much that is strange. The supposition of Ernesti and Nitzsch, even when it is applied to simple maid-ser¬ vants, is wholly antagonistic to the natural modesty of the female sex. The solution of this riddle, Odysseus himself, in our opinion, furnishes when he describes the manner in which Kirke bathed him: “ . . . ‘ When it boiled within The shining brass, she led me to the bath, And washed me from the tripod. On my head And shoulders pleasantly she shed the streams That from my members took away the sense Of weariness, unmanning body and mind. And when she thus had bathed me and with oil Anointed me, she put a princely cloak And tunic on me, led me in, and showed My seat.’ ” ANOINTING. 245 The bath-tub, in this instance, was full of cold water; the hero having entered it, was covered as far as the shoulders by the water ; the goddess then, having taken the warm water, placed near by in a tripod, poured it upon the shoulders and the head, and then withdrew. Such a task was not considered as in the least out of place in an age like the Ho¬ meric. Again, let us not forget that Odysseus, in order to avoid dressing himself before the maid-serv¬ ants of Nausikaa, took the garments from them and waited until they had withdrawn. Whence this sud¬ den modesty from him, whom the most beautiful of women had bathed in Troy, if the above is not deemed true ? Accordingly, it seems probable that the bathing was performed as follows: The bath-tub was filled with cold •water, while upon a tripod near by water was warmed. After the bather had entered the tub, the maid appeared, poured upon the head warm water, gave him clean garments, oil, and whatever else was necessary, and then depart¬ ed. The bather afterward came out, anointed and dressed himself. Anointing. —Rubbing all the parts of the body with oil was deemed an indispensable portion of the bath. The skin was rendered soft and velvet-like by this application of oil. It is not clearly known what kind of oil was used for this purpose, and-Terp- 246 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. stra says : There were no ointments during the Ho¬ meric times similar to those employed in later years. They used a fat and shining oil, perfumed with the essence of roses, or some aromatic substance.” It is very probable, however, that especially in Hellas, they used olive-oil, and that the phrase “ rose-oil ” meant the well-known attar of roses, which, however, owing to its cost, was used only in exceptional cases. Washing the Feet. —The washing of the feet was likewise a common custom during the Homeric antiquity: “ . . . ‘ I do not like This washing of the feet. No maiden here, That ministers to thee may touch my foot.’ ” The heroes, especially, expected it, and any neg¬ lect in this direction was accounted a serious depriva¬ tion. The maid-servants usually attended to this task. The utensils employed for this purpose were of brass, and contained a mixture of cold and warm water. The men also bathed in the rivers and in the sea; but frequently another warm bath at home fol¬ lowed the above, as the former was considered to clean, the latter to refresh, the body. Thus Odysseus and Diomedes, on their return from the nightly ex¬ pedition, during which they seized the horses from Rhesos, first washed themselves in the sea, then bathed and anointed themselves in the bath-house; BANQUETS. 247 “ Then, descending to the sea, They washed from knees and neck and thighs the grime Of sweat; and when in the salt wave their limbs Were cleansed, and all the frame refreshed, they stepped Into the polished basins of the bath And, having bathed and rubbed with fragrant oil Their limbs, they sat them down to a repast, And from a brimming jar beside them drew, And poured to Pallas first, the pleasant wine.” Banquets. —The social instincts and warmth of feeling with which the Hellenic race is endowed from the earliest years, rendered banquets an almost indispensable feature of their civilization. These banquets occupy a prominent place in the life of those ages, and appear under their true form, which later became somewhat changed by the munifi¬ cence of Asiatic luxury. It has been deemed strange that the Hellenic peo¬ ple, usually so much admired for their simplicity, were so weak in this particular. The censure, however, is undeserved. The Greek sought in the banquets, not “ high living ” and indolence, but the charm of con¬ versation, and intellectual stimulus. The fine Ho¬ meric expression ‘‘ Nor did the mind of any stand in want of an equal feast,” which became typical of every discourse or banquet, suffices fully to demonstrate our position. In fact, the Hellenic banquet nourished the mind and heart more than the appetite, while the 248 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS, music and the dance which followed were far more enjoyed than the feast itself : “ . . . ‘ Nor can I deem Aught more delightful than the general joy Of a whole people when the assembled guests Seated in order in the royal halls Are listening to the minstrel, while the board Is spread with bread and meats, and from the jars The cupbearer draws wine, and fills the cups. To me there is no more delightful sight.’ ” The men of the Homeric times partook of food three times a day, the dinner, taken at noon, being the principal meal. Before eating, the hands of the guests were washed in silver bowls, brought in for that pur¬ pose by the maid-servants. The water was poured by them out of a golden ewer : “ . . . In a bowl Of silver, from a shapely ewer of gold, A maid poured water for the hands, and set A polished table near them.” Washing the feet appears to have been introduced in later times. Afterward, tables were carried into the room, and were cleansed within the room by a sponge, although they had already been washed outside ; “. . . Heralds were with them. And busy menials : some who in the bowls Tempered the wine with water, some who cleansed The tables with light sponges, and who set The banquet forth and carved the meats for all.” BANQUETS. 249 It would appear that each of the guests usually had a small table for himself. There were, however, ex¬ ceptions to this, because we find instances where two were seated at the same table : “ . . . Now a handmaid brought A beautiful ewer of gold and laver wrought Of silver, and poured water for their hands, And spread a polished table near their seat.” On exceptional occasions, it would appear that one table was set for all. When the tables were placed, the guests took their seats. The custom of reclining on couches appears to have been introduced after the Homeric period. The maid-servants took charge of the service, but there was also a carver.” As the utensils of to-day, such as knives, forks, etc., were unknown, the meat for each guest was cut into small pieces before it was placed before him : “ And he who served the feast before them placed Chargers with various meats, and cups of gold.” The carver was seated at a private table where he performed his work, the meats that were brought in being at once placed before him. The guests them¬ selves often watched the carving. The portions al¬ lotted were usually equal, but, as a distinctive matter of esteem, to each important personage was usually given a larger or choicer piece. 250 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. The wine-pouring was the duty of special servants who gave the guests to drink ; but sometimes the sons of the master performed this task, in order to show greater honor to the guests. The wine was given in equal portions, excepting in the case of the old men, whose share was greater and was called gerusios wine, or the wine for the old sires (wrongly translated by some as old wine). The wine was mixed with water in the mixing-bowls, and from them the cups were afterward filled to the brim : “ Boys filled the cups to the brim with wine.” Virgilius takes this phrase to mean that they en¬ twined flowers around the cups, but this is not so, as this custom was as yet unknown. * The expression means merely that they filled the cups to such a de¬ gree that the wine formed a sort of crown. The glass was first of all offered to the oldest man in the assembly as a distinctive mark of honor, and on this account Peisistratos is said to have offered it to Athene, inasmuch as the latter, having assumed the form of Nestor, appeared the eldest of the guests. Be it also remarked that, on this occasion, Menelaos was present, so that during the Homeric years the white head was held in greater honor than the crowned. The first who took the glass passed it to his neighbor on the right, and so on. Eustathius conjectures that BANQUETS. 251 the glass passed all around full, as a sort of “ saluta¬ tion ” given by one to the other, and that only after this the drinking commenced. The viands served in these banquets were extreme¬ ly simple, and were composed of roast sheep, oxen, and pigs. Wine tempered with water was the only drink in use. Gluttonness and ostentatious luxurious¬ ness were condemned on every occasion. Athene says that it is unbecoming to sit a long time at table, and the suitors w'ere repeatedly blamed for their gluttony : “ Nor at a feast in honor of the gods Should we long sit, but in good time withdraw. • •••••• He drew his party-colored seat, aloof From where the suitors sat; that so his guest Might not amid those haughty revellers Be wearied with the tumult and enjoy His meal the less.” Drunkenness called forth the greatest contempt, and wine was represented as bringing man to madness: “ . . . They had called the Achaians all To an assembly, not with due regard To order, at the setting of the sun. And thither came the warriors overpowered With wine.” The expression “ heavy with wine ” was an unpar¬ donable insult, which Achilles, only in the very height 252 DRESS AND ORNAAIENTS. of his anger, hurled against Agamemnon. The myth also of the Kyklops appears to h*ave been invented to demonstrate the pernicious results of intemperance. During the banquet, conversation was usually on seri¬ ous topics ; while music, dance, and song were indis¬ pensable accompaniments : “ . . . When the calls of thirst And hunger were appeased, the suitors thought Of other things that well become a feast— Song and the dance.” The song was not ribald or turbulent, nor was it given by the guests themselves. Tender hymns and rhapsodies were sung by a trained singer, who was seated at a special table, on a silver-mounted throne : “. . . Then appeared The herald, leading the sweet singer in. Him whoni the Muse with an exceeding love Had cherished, and had visited with good And evil, quenched his eye-sight and bestowed Sweetness of song. Pontonoiis mid the guests Placed for the bard a silver-studded throne, Against a lofty column hung his harp Above his head, and taught him how to find And take it down. Near him the herald set A basket, and fair table, and a cup Of wine, that he might drink when he desired. Then all put forth their hands and shared the feast.” At the banquet of Alkinoos, we find Demodokos singing “ The Love of Ares and Aphrodite,” and the BANQUETS. 253 story of “ The Wooden Horse.” At the banquets of the suitors, who were not remarkable for their gentle¬ ness, Phemios sang, though much against his will. The harp was the usual instrument employed during the feasts. The excellent reputation enjoyed by the singers during the Homeric years is a manifest proof of the noble sentiments and of the advanced civilization of that pan-archaic world. The words which Odysseus addressed to Demodokos furnish an accurate picture of the epoch, in which the heroes who lived in camp nourished the aesthetic feeling to its highest degree: “ ‘ Bear this, O herald, to Demodocus That he may eat. Him, even in my g^ef. Will I embrace, for worthily the bards Are honored and revered o’er all the earth By every race of men. The Muse herself Hath taught them song; she loves the minstrel tribe.' ” Matters stood differently in regard to the dance. Bands of professional dancers and of dancing girls were first employed for the amusement of the guests in the classical period. In the time of Homer, the banquet was usually terminated by a dance, in which the guests themselves took part. If any of the latter withdrew before the close of the entertainment, they formally excused themselves, as at the present day. The evening meal was taken about sunset. Con- 12 254 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. cerning its details, we know almost nothing. It was, however, more extensive than the breakfast, for in the “ Iliad ” we find the expression, “ I would at sunset spread a liberal feast,” from which it would appear that certain preparations were made for it. Besides the above regular repasts, various occa¬ sions gave rise to great banquets; these were given in honor of some special guest, at religious festivals and sacrifices, and also at marriages and funerals : “ . . . There, upon the ocean-side, They found the people offering coal-black steers To dark-haired Neptune. On nine seats they sat. Five hundred on each seat; nine steers were slain For each five hundred there.” . . . We distinguish two kinds of these extraordinary banquets — “ the compotatio^* or drinking-bout, and the so-called “ picnic.” The compotatio was the prin¬ cipal banquet given to friends, and the picnic was a sort of banquet in which each brought his own food. Much has been written concerning the Homeric picnics. A few have compared them to the picnics of to-day, and supposed that many families, having gath¬ ered together, went to some country-place to amuse themselves, each person taking his own food. Others have considered this opinion as untrustworthy. We think that the following lines furnish the true explana¬ tion of the affair: FOOD AND DRINK, 255 “. . . Meantime came Those who prepared the banquet to the halls Of the great monarch. Bringing sheep they came, And strengthening wine. Their wives, who on their brows Wore showy fillets, brought the bread, and thus Within the house of Menelaus all Was bustle, setting forth the evening meal.” Thus the so-called picnic takes place in the house of Menelaos, and not in the country. It has, in fact, been noticed that the noblemen usually supped at the house of the king. The supposition, therefore, is nat¬ ural that they brought with them, if not all, at least the principal things necessary for the table, that the entire trouble and expense might not fall upon the host, who could with difficulty have provided for so great a throng of guests. Accordingly, banquets of this sort, attended by prominent men, were called pic¬ nics ; and the others, given by invitation, were known as compotatio. Food and Drink. —There were two kinds of flour, one made from wheat and the other from barley. The former was held in the greater esteem, and Homer calls it “the strength of man.” Bread was prepared from a mixture of both kinds of flour, and was com¬ monly called “ wheaten bread,” while the word bread alone usually included everything eatable. Besides bread, meat formed an important article of food, especially the flesh of the ox, sheep, and pig. 256 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. The meat of the stag and a few other wild animals was of secondary importance. The only way of pre¬ paring these meats was by roasting them, and usually this was done on spits. After the hair was singed olf, the skin was removed, the animal was pierced through by spits, and was turned round over a fire; while roast¬ ing it was sprinkled with flour and salt: “ He spake, and girt his tunic round his loins. And hastened to the sties in which the herds Of swine were lying. Thence he took out two. And slaughtered them, and singed them, sliced the flesh, And fixed it upon spits, and, when the whole Was roasted, brought and placed it reeking hot. Still on the spits, and sprinkled with white meal. Before Ulysses.” Poultry was eaten during the Homeric period. In the ‘‘Odyssey,” geese, which were raised especially for the table, are mentioned : “ ' He spake; my slumbers left me, and I looked And saw the geese that in the palace still Were at their trough, and feeding as before.’ ” Another dish was the paunch of a goat, filled with fat and blood, and then roasted : “. . . ‘at the fire. Already lie the paunches of two goats. Preparing for our evening meal, and both Are filled with fat and blood.’ ” The following lines well describe the manner in which these paunches were prepared : FOOD AND DRINK. 257 “ As one turns and turns The stomach of a bullock filled with fat And blood before a fiercely blazing fire And wishes it were done, so did the chief Shift oft from side to side, with pondering how To lay a strong hand on the multitude Of shameless suitors,—he but one, and they So many.” Brains formed another article of food, and were deemed most nourishing, wherefore bread was called the nerve (brains) of man. Little Astyanax was fed on the brains of lambs : “ Then to his widowed mother shall return Astyanax in tears, who, not long since Was fed, while sitting in his father’s lap, On marrow and the delicate fat of lambs.” It is very probable that brains, on account of their softness, were especially used as food for infants. Achilles during his infancy is said to have been fed upon them. It is strange that, while fishing was well known in the Homeric times, fish is never mentioned as the food of heroes, excepting as, in the fourth book of the “ Odyssey,” in a case of extreme necessity and hun¬ ger : “. . . They through the isle Roamed everywhere from place to place,* and pinched With hunger, threw the hook for fish.” I 258 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. It v/ould seem that, for some reason, fish were not considered healthy food. On the other hand, oysters were frequently eaten, as may be seen from the follow¬ ing lines: “ . . . ‘ Were this, now, the sea, Where fish are bred, and he were searching it For oysters, he might get an ample store For many men, in leaping from a ship. Though in a storm, so skillfully he dives Even from the chariot to the plain.’ ” Besides the above, mention is made of beans, chick-peas, and cabbage. Cheese was also in use, and was eaten mixed with honey and wine. The use of salt for seasoning purposes was, of course, com¬ mon : “ . . . ‘ On thy return Thou shalt avenge thee of their violent deeds; And when thou shalt have slain them in thy halls. Whether by stratagem or by the sword In open fight, then take a shapely oar And journey on, until thou meet with men Who have not known the sea nor eaten food Seasoned with salt, nor ever have beheld Galleys with crimson prows, nor shapely oars, Which are the wings of ships.” It is strange that no mention is made of water as a drink. Wine, however, was not used in its pure state, but always mixed with water. What the relative proportions of the mixture were is not known, but it would seem that it followed, at any rate, the rules FOOD AND DRINK. 259 of wisdom, the water predominating. Hesiod ad¬ vises one part of wine to three times as much water. In exceptional cases, as, for instance, after a long journey, and always for the old men, more wine was taken. By reason of this weak admixture, it may be explained why wine was given freely to children and women. The influence of wine was considered, according to circumstances, as strengthening or enervating. He- kabe says to Hektor, on his return from battle, that he needs wine to recuperate his exhausted strength : “ . . . * But stay thou here Till I bring pleasant wine, that thou mayst pour A part to Jove and to the other gods, And drink and be refreshed ; for wine restores Strength to the weary, and I know that thou Art weary, fighting for thy countrymen.’ ” Hektor, however, refuses the proffered drink be¬ fore the battle, saying— “ ‘ My honored mother, bring not pleasant wine. Lest that unman me, and my wonted might And valor leave me.’ ” It would thus seem that wine was esteemed useful after labor, but injurious before it. Milk, however, was the most common drink dur¬ ing the Homeric times, especially that of the cow, the sheep, and the goat. 26 o DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. Table Furniture. —Modern civilization has in¬ troduced a number of table-utensils which were un¬ known during the Homeric period. There are men¬ tioned, however, golden pitchers, silver wash-basins, used for washing the hands before eating; baskets made of reeds, or of copper, silver, or gold, into which bread was put, and other similar baskets, much small¬ er, in which onions were kept. The utensils used for drinking-purposes were nu¬ merous, and our information concerning them is tol¬ erably full. First of all, the admixture of wine with water was made in a goblet usually of silver, rarely of gold; out of this goblet the wine was poured into cups. Ancient Hellenism prided itself on the variety and beauty of these cups, and invented many patterns for them. Although in the Homeric period there was still wanting the immense variety of the classic years, yet the Homeric age was especially rich in these respects. The skyphos was a simple wooden cup, in use among the poorer classes. The kissybioriy made of the wood of the cypress-tree, was used also among peasants. It would appear that this cup was large, because Polyphemos, after empty¬ ing it three times, became at once drunk. The depas was the greatest and the most precious of all cups. The one used by Nestor was made of TABLE FURNITURE. 261 wood, and was adorned with golden studs, while four golden doves formed as many handles. Much has been written concerning this vessel, and, above all, as to the position occupied by the handles. Some claim that two of these were on top, and the other two in the middle, as in the utensils of Corinth. Others hold that there w’ere only t\vo handles, extending from the top to the base of the vessel, and forming two grooves in the shape of handles. The exact position of the handles is still a matter of dispute. The kypellon closely resembled the depas^ and was made of metal—usually of gold. The amphikypellon was a double cup, formed by two cups joined together at the base, the one being used to sustain the other. It was a large vessel, hav¬ ing two handles, and was usually carried by two men. The phiale was small, and had more width than depth. The kotyle was a cup concerning which we have little information. It was said of it: “ . . . One who pities him shall give A scanty draught, which only wets his lips, But not his palate.” It would thus appear that it was very small. The wine was kept in bags of skin, and in these, also, it was carried on a journey. Tripods were very common during the Homeric 262 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. period. A few of them were simple stools, upon which a caldron was placed to warm water, while others were themselves used as caldrons, and had three feet. There were also tripods of exquisite work¬ manship used as ornaments. The tripods fashioned by Hephaestos are especially celebrated : “ . . . He was fashioning Tripods, a score, to stand beside the wall Of his fair palace. All of these he placed On wheels of gold, that, of their own accord, They might roll in among the assembled gods. And then roll back, a marvel to behold.” Beckmann supposes that during the Homeric pe¬ riod the production of automata^ or self-moving ob¬ jects, propelled by inside mechanism, was well known. But it seems highly improbable that art had thus early reached so high a development. Hephaestos placed wheels under the tripods to move them: as the arti¬ san was superhuman, the poet invested his works with the extraordinary power of moving of their own ac- cord in the assembly of the gods. The caldrons placed over the tripods were of metal, usually bronze, and were used exclusively to warm water. CHAPTER III. Diseases—Wounds—Physicians and surgeons—Women as physi¬ cians—Death—After death. Diseases. —Very little is said by Homer upon this subject. Either during that pan-archaic epoch, owing perhaps to the simplicity of life, the human constitu¬ tion was stronger than it is to-day, or the theme of the Homeric poems does not offer a sufficient ground for the mention of diseases. The latter supposition is the more commonly accepted, and, while it may be said that the multitude of ills which now afflict human kind had not yet all escaped from Pandora’s box, neverthe¬ less, each epoch has had its own advantages and evils; nor was the Homeric in this respect an exception. Much has been written on this subject, but, unfor¬ tunately, little of value. The old works of Valerius, Oertel, Haynisch, and Baechne are much below the present standard of investigation ; while the more re¬ cent researches, as, for instance, those of Le Clerc, J. C. Barchuxen, W. Black, C. G. Ackermann, K. Sprengel, J. F. K. Hecker, Friedlander, Lessing, and Oekono- 264 DRESS AND ORJ^AMENTS. mos, are general in their scope, and treat very briefly the subject of prehistoric diseases. The principal diseases mentioned by Homer are four in number — the terrible pestilence brought by Apollo upon the Greeks, to avenge his priest Chryses ; the madness of the followers of Odysseus ; the swell¬ ing of Philoktetos, resulting from the bite of a serpent; and the melancholy of Bellerophon. The priest Chryses went to Agamemnon, in the camp of the Achaians, where his daughter, the beauti¬ ful Chryseis, or Astynome, was held a prisoner, bearing to the chief, to whose lot she had fallen, “ uncounted ransom.” But King Agamemnon dismissed him in anger, and the old man, on his return to Troy, as he was passing along the shore of the loud-roaring sea, I sought, with tears in his eyes, revenge for the proffered insult : “ . . . ‘ If I ever helped to deck Thy glorious temple, if I ever burned Upon thy altar the fat thighs of goats And bullocks, grant my prayer, and let thy shafts Avenge upon the Greeks the tears I shed ! ’ Phoebus Apollo hearkened. Down he came, Down from the summit of the Olympian mount. Wrathful in heart; his shoulders bore the bow And hollow quiver; there the arrows rang Upon the shoulders of the angry god. As on he moved. He came as comes the night. And, seated from the ships aloof, sent forth DISEASES. 265 An arrow : terrible was heard the clang Of that resplendent bow. At first he smote The mules and the swift dogs, and then on man He turned the deadly arrow. All around Glared evermore the frequent funeral-piles.” As it is evident the poet speaks here of the slaugh¬ ter of the Greeks by the god—that is to say, of a superhuman and mythical affair, and only in a met¬ aphorical way—we may assume that, by this divine picture, the facts of some great epidemic are de¬ scribed. First of all, we are told that the god attacked the animals, the mules, and the fleet dogs of the Achaians. If we were to take the passage in its literal sense, there is much in it that is strange. It is by no means natural that the angry god, instead of avenging him¬ self upon those who were the cause of his wrath, set deliberately to work to kill the animals. Such a pun¬ ishment appears disproportionate to the insult, and altogether useless, when the punishment of the guilty could have been directly exacted. On the other hand, it is well known that, in case of great epidemics, the animals are always attacked before the men. Hence this passage, even when allegorically taken, does not appear antagonistic to facts ; on the contrary, it dem¬ onstrates the accuracy with which the poet described his lamentable and wonderful picture. 266 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. It is also said that the arrows of the god were sent for nine days ; “ Nine days already have his shafts been showered.” It is well known that, for so long a time precisely, the virulent period of most epidemics continues, after which they usually begin to abate. The selection, too, of Apollo as the author of this disease is in accord¬ ance with the events narrated, because the sun exer¬ cises great influence on all severe epidemics. Supposing, then, that a real epidemic was described by the poet, let us inquire what was its nature. It is generally supposed that a contagious disease is here meant; but we have no proof whatever as to its simi¬ larity with that which occurred in the time of Perikles, or with those of more recent years. It is probable that Homer himself had not in mind any definite disease. No effort was made—at least none is mentioned—to limit or eradicate the evil. The wrath of the god was appeased when he was propitiated, and Chryseis was restored. But it has been noticed that this occurred on the tenth day, when diseases of this kind frequently abate. The. evil was allowed to run its course, because, deemed as it was a divine punishment, it was consid¬ ered incurable. Even without this supposition, there was no hope to be expected from the science of medi- DISEASES. 267 cine, which was still in its infancy. Thus, the details are wholly due to the inventive genius of the poet, while the belief of the people that the god was the cause of the evil was genuine and wide-spread. After the cessation of the god's wrath, the Greeks sacrificed to Apollo and bathed in the sea. In this bath alone we find, perhaps, the only trace of any sanitary pre¬ caution, but this step also was taken in a religious spirit. Concerning the transformation of the followers of Odysseus, we are told : “ Then mingling for them Pramnian wine with cheese, Meal, and fresh honey, and infusing drugs Into the mixture,—drugs which made them lose The memory of their home,—she handed them The beverage and they drank. Then instantly She touched them with a wand, and shut them up In sties, transformed to swine in head and voice. Bristles and shape, though still the human mind Remained to them. Thus sorrowing they were driven Into their cells, where Circ^ flung to them Acorns of oak and ilex, and the fruit Of cornel, such as nourish wallowing swine.” This ingenious myth which, in our opinion, is pure¬ ly a product of the wonderful imagination of the poet, has found many imitators in more recent years, and has been interpreted in a thousand different ways. The examination of the various attempts to solve the myth is peculiarly interesting, inasmuch as thereby 268 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. may be seen into how many absurdities the most re¬ nowned philologists are drawn, in their eagerness to interpret passages like the above, and their persistent determination to find some metaphorical meaning, when in reality none exists. We must limit ourselves to a few of the most fa¬ mous explanations, for there is material on this topic alone sufficient to fill an entire book. Hardin thinks that Kirke typifies nature, the mother of eating and drinking, while the pigs are intemperate men who, without regard to the laws of health, partake too freely of the good things of the world, and thus are ruined and lost. Such, in his opinion, is the mys¬ tic meaning of the allegory. Gerlach says that, by this myth, the idea is implied that ignorant men are easily deceived by the shrewd¬ ness of others, and are changed into animals, while the learned, like Odysseus and Eurylochos, escape the danger. According to Altenburg, Odysseus is the sun, and Kirke is his circuitous passage which causes the changes of nature and of the seasons. Kirke trans¬ forms creatures into other creatures, because, in reali¬ ty, everything changes in nature ; she is surrounded with lions and wolves, because these animals are sa¬ cred to the sun, and, for the same reason, she trans¬ forms her victims into pigs. DISEASES. 269 Friedreich advances two opinions. He first says that the herbs which Kirke mixed in the drink were narcotic, throwing all into a sleep, in which they for¬ got their home and country, and then only the sor¬ ceress, desiring to have the men removed from her room—which must have presented a very comical ap¬ pearance—and not having a more suitable place, she had them carried into the pig-sty ! His second explanation is as follows : He claims that narcotics often lead to madness. But there is a sort of madness in which the sufferer imagines himself to have assumed a different form. Accordingly, he says, it is but natural that the followers of Odysseus, having drunk of these narcotics, imagined themselves to have been changed into pigs. He calls this disease iiisania zoanthropica. Is it not more probable that the poet simply cre¬ ated a beautiful myth, as in the case of the Laistry- gonoe, or the Kyklops ? If so, it is surely a needless task to try to interpret its mystic signification. The transformation was the natural result of the magic power of the goddess, who touched them with her wand, and has nothing in common with pathology. But in the forgetfulness arising from the drink, there is certainly a change of the intellectual forces akin to nosology, and worthy of research. Kirke is said to have prepared a mixture, and in it 270 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. to have infused drugs. These were evidently narcotic herbs belonging to the family solanacarum or sfrych- ninarum^ and hence the forgetfulness thereby arising is the narcosis of the intellectual forces. We think, however, that this refers rather to a magic energy, and that the poet had no definite plant in his mind. Odysseus, although he himself drank of the mixture, escaped the danger, by reason of the an¬ tidote given him by Hermes. Friedreich considers this very event as strengthening his position. But the avoiding of magic influence by means of an anti¬ dote is a common idea in all the ages. The antidote given to Odysseus by Argeiphontes, the poet says, was called moly among the gods : “ . . . the root is black, The blossom white as milk. Among the gods Its name is Moly; hard it is for men To dig it up ; the gods find nothing hard.” Much has been said concerning this plant, and entire treatises have been written upon it. One, entitled Siber de Moly Hermetis herba,” Schneeb, 1699, we have in vain looked for among booksellers and libra¬ ries. According to the old interpretation, the word muly is said to be derived from a Greek verb meaning to strengthen. Accordingly, Eustathios and Rieci, bas¬ ing their views upon the above derivation, call allegory once more to their aid, and say that by this plant is DISEASES. 271 represented the wisdom of God, or the advice given to Odysseus, by means of which he escaped the danger. We need only remark that advice nowhere grows with white blossoms and black roots. Evidently this moly, the antidote against the magic influence, is another invention of Homer, and not a known and definite plant. The very description of the poet makes this manifest, while the black root and the white blossom has much that seems peculiarly imaginative— “. . . Hard it is for men To dig it up ; the gods find nothing hard.” Thus, the poet says that this plant is not culti¬ vated by men, but by the all-powerful gods. By calling it by an imaginative name, Homer shows, we think, with the greatest possible art, that the moiy is a mythical plant, and that it is vain to seek upon the earth what grows only in heaven, or rather, upon the still more fertile ground of the poet’s imagina¬ tion. Those who have written entire volumes concerning the moly^ and searched through the whole science of botany to discover it among onions and cabbages, have neglected only the careful study of the Homeric verse. If we could believe that the moly was really a plant, we would rather agree with Theophrastos, who takes it to be the garlic, allium nigru 7 n^ because, in fact, by a 272 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. strange coincidence there is to this day a garlic called molyza. Dioskoredes coincides with this idea, and Frass says that a captain sent him from Asia Minor a plant with a black root which certainly was the moly. Doubt re¬ mained only as to whether the blossom was white, and, having planted it, he waited the result with intense anxiety. But we have not as yet ascertained the issue of his investigation. The story of Bellerophon has often been told. Having killed his brother, Belleros, he left his ^native Korinth and escaped to King Proitos. He was accused by Anteia, the faithless wife of Proitos, of having made attempts upon her honor, when he really had opposed her advances. The king, disliking to put to death a man whom he had entertained, sent him to his father- in-law, lobates, with a letter, demanding the death of the bearer. lobates, having also entertained him for nine days ere he read the letter, was loath to perform the order, and decided rather to subject him to many dangerous enterprises, leaving his death to the will of the immortals. He accordingly sent him first against the Chimera, a fire-spouting monster, with a lion’s head, serpent’s tail, and the body of a goat, which Bellero¬ phon slew. Next he dispatched him against the Soly- moe, inhabitants of Lykia, whom he readily defeated. Finally, an ambush was laid against him, but Bellero- DISEASES. 273 phon routed the men employe'd in it ; and, finally, Iso- bates recognized his innocence and rare bravery, and gave him his daughter in marriage, together with one half of his kingdom. Now proceeds the myth invented by more recent writers: Bellerophon, elated by his prosperity, considered himself equal to the gods, and attempted to ascend to high heaven, to enjoy honors similar to those of the immortals. To this end, he mounted the winged horse Pegasos, given to him by the gods to fight the Chimera, and commenced his flight. The gods, incensed at his audacity, put spurs to the horse, threw Bellerophon upon the ground, when, con¬ scious of his mistake, he was seized by the' above-men¬ tioned fearful melancholy. Nothing is said by Homer concerning Pegasos, and on this account all this part of the myth is considered more modern. But, on the other hand, it is incontesta¬ ble that there exists a chasm in the text, because, sud¬ denly after the description of the achievements of the fratricide, the following lines are recorded : “ But when Bellerophon upon himself Had drawn the anger of the gods, he roamed The Aldan fields alone, a prey to thoughts That wasted him, and shunning every haunt Of humankind.” What is important for us is the fact that the wrath of the gods engendered the melancholy, and Bellero- 274 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS, phon wandered alone in 'the Aleeon field, wasting away by his suffering, and fleeing the presence of men. There is no doubt whatever that reference is made here to some keen mental disease, similar to madness, and this is the only example of mental suffering to be found in Homer. The events concerning Philoktetes are as follows : Having made an expedition against Troy with seven ships, he discovered a small temple as he was sailing by the island Chryses. While he was examining the edifice, a fearful serpent, suddenly springing from a rock, bit him in the foot. The Achaians at first took him with them, but after¬ ward, unable to bear his terrible cries and the stench arising from the wound, they left him on the island Lemnos, where he remained alone, suffering intense agony, throughout the ten years of the Homeric expe¬ dition : “ . . . There the Greeks Left him, in torture from a venomed wound Made by a serpent’s fangs.” It is not certain what kind of serpent inflicted the wound. Homer calls it hydron. Voss and Crusies translate the word viper^ while Liinemann and Pape “water-serpent." The result of the bite appears to have been most extraordinary, when we take into con¬ sideration the wailings of the hero, and the fetid odor DISEASES. 275 and the long duration of the wound. These phenom¬ ena are somewhat unnatural, because, while death, which generally follows the bite of a poisonous ser¬ pent, did not occur, a swelling or gangrene made its appearance, which lasted in this acute state ten years. No such instance is mentioned in positive records. Sophokles, in his well-known drama, calls the wound from which the hero suffered insatiate^ and according¬ ly considered it as a destructive or eating sore. In our opinion, the sore from which Philoktetes suffered was something akin to cancer. No mention is made of any attempt to heal the wound, which is certainly strange, as the treatment of such bites with herbs was well understood during the Homeric period. The sufferings of Philoktetes have ever been, like those of Prometheus, a much-admired subject in the arts, and the statue of Philostratos the younger is considered inimitable. The ancients thought that leipothymia^ or fainting, arose, as the word signifies, from an abseme of the soul —i. e., the breath of life leaving its abode, the body. A beautiful description of this ailment is found in the following lines, said of Andromache, when the death of Hektor was announced to her: “. . . sudden darkness came Over her eyes, and in a breathless swoon. She sank away and fell.” 276 BI^ESS AND ORNAMENTS. Pure air and cold water were the means by which one who had fainted was revived. Sarpedon, having fainted on account of his wound, “ came to himself ” as soon as he had breathed the north wind : “ . . . Then did the noble band Who bore the great Sarpedon lay him down Beneath a shapely beech, a tree of Jove The Aegis-bearer. There stout Pelagon, His well-beloved comrade, from his thigh Drew forth the sharp blade of the ashen spear. Then the breath left him, and his eyes were closed In darkness; but the light came back again As, breathing over him, the fresh north wind Revived the spirit in his laboring breast.” The above, as already stated, are the only instances in the Homeric poems where traces of disease appear, and these are related in a mythical sort of way. The ancients accepted disease as the will of the gods, a ne¬ cessary evil, and accordingly little care was taken con¬ cerning its causes, nature, and the means of curing it. Consequently, no treatise is possible concerning Ho¬ meric pathology—i. e., the diagnosis of symptoms, and their scientific explanation and cure. The evil sent from Olympus was silently accepted, nor was the idea of a possible escape entertained, except through prayers, sacrifices, and appeasing the divine wrath. Wounds. —But, if the occasions are extremely rare WOUNDS. 277 when the poet describes nosological symptoms, of ne¬ cessity, and from the very nature of his subject, he speaks frequently of wounds and their results. This is so true, that not a few censure the poet, and call him bloodthirsty, on the ground that he rejoices in such descriptions. But deep thinkers, on the con¬ trary, admire the unparalleled art with w^hich the poet, on each occasion, invented a different wound, and most minutely described it; thus proving that, if pathology was still in its swaddling - clothes, anatomy was, on the other hand, considerably de¬ veloped. There are mortal wounds mentioned by Homer, and others not necessarily so. But the greater part are mortal, even when the damage wrought does not foretell the catastrophe. It would thus seem that when Homer described the death of a hero, he paid closer attention to the artistic drawing of the picture than to the pathological nature of the wound. The great variety of the wounds mentioned explains and justifies these small incongruities. Some are difficult to understand, because they are the result of the po¬ lemic art of the epoch, and of weapons with w'hich we are not perfectly acquainted. The following examples will facilitate the understanding of the Homeric ex¬ pressions as regards the anatomical knowledge of the poet: 13 278 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. *' Him Agamemnon with his trenchant spear Smote in the forehead as he came. The helm Of massive brass was vain to stay the blow: The weapon pierced it and the bone, and stained The brain with blood; it felled him rushing on.” • •••••• “ . . . Pisander hewed away, Below the crest, the plumed helmet-cone Of Atreus’ son, who smote, above the nose, Pisander’s forehead, crashing through the bones. Both bleeding eyes dropped to the ground amid The dust; he fell; he writhed. . . “ . . . Minerva kept The weapon faithful to its aim. It struck The nose, and near the eye ; then passing on Betwixt the teeth, the unrelenting edge Cleft at its root the tongue ; the point came out Beneath the chin. The warrior from his car Fell headlong; his bright armor, fairly wrought. Clashed round him as he fell; his fiery steeds Started aside with fright; his breath and strength Were gone at once. . . “ And him Peneleus smote beneath the brow In the eye's socket, forcing out the ball; The spear passed through, and reappeared behind. Down sat the wounded man with arms outstretched. While, drawing his sharp sword, Peneleus smote The middle of his neck, and lopped away The helmed head, which fell upon the ground. The spear still in the eye. . . “ He smote him on the helmet's cone, where streamed The horse-hair plume. The brazen javelin stood Fixed in his forehead, piercing through the bone. And darkness gathered o'er his eyes. . , WOUNDS. 279 “ Then plunged Idomeneus the cruel spear Into the mouth of Erymas. The blade Passed on beneath the brain, and pierced the neck, And there divided the white bones. It dashed The teeth out; both the eyes were filled with blood, Which gushed from mouth and nostrils, as he breathed. And the black cloud of death came over him.” • •••••• “. . . And as the suppliant took his chin In his large hand, and had begun a prayer. He smote him with his sword at the mid-neck. And cut the tendons both ; the severed head. While yet he spake, fell, rolling in the dust.” • •••••• “ . . . One he pierced High on the bosom with his brazen spear. And smote the other on the collar-bone With his good sword, and hewed from neck and spine The shoulder. . . .” “ ... In the breast, between The paps, it smote him. . . .” '‘In turn, Patroclus, hurling not in vain His weapon, smote him where the midriff’s web Holds the tough heart. . . .” "... As he turned To flee, the Achaian, smiting him between The shoulders, drove the javelin through his breast. Heavily clashed his armor as he fell.” • •••••• “ . . . But he who gave the wound, Piroiis, came up and pierced him with his spear. Forth gashed the entrails, and the eyes grew dark.” 28 o DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. Many passages similar to the above are to be found in Homer, but those quoted are sufficient for our pur¬ pose. The healing of wounds, of course, received much attention, and the physicians of the Homeric period were rather experienced surgeons. After the examination of the wound, and the ex¬ traction of any part of the missile that might have been left in the body, the blood was washed away, and “ pain-eating herbs ” were placed upon the sore. Such herbs usually stopped the flow of blood and aided the healing of the wound. ' Over the herbs soft wool was bound, kept in place by a supporting belt. Wine was usually given to the wounded to revive his strength: “ . . . Without delay he drew The arrow from the fairly-fitted belt. The barbs were bent in drawing. Then he loosed The embroidered belt, the quilted vest beneath, And plate,—the armorer's work,—and carefully O’erlooked the wound where fell the bitter shaft. Cleansed it from blood, and sprinkled over it With skill the soothing balsams which of yore The friendly Chiron to his father gave. . . . The brazen spear Passed through the hand and reached the bow, and there Stood fixed, while Helenus, avoiding death. Drew back among his comrades, with his hand Held low, and trailing still the ashen stem, Magnamimous Agenor from the wound Drew forth the blade, and wrapped the hand in wool. PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS, 281 Carefully twisted, taken from a sling Carried by an attendant of the chief.” Physicians and Surgeons. — The physicians, though by no means men of scientific attainments, were exceptionally honored, and were deemed most useful members of society. Even the Olympians themselves, immortal though they were, had their physicians. Three physicians are mentioned prominently in Homer—Asklepios, Machaon, and Podaleirios. There were others, however, in the Hellenic camp, inasmuch as on many occasions the plural number is employed when speaking of them, and in the “ Iliad ” they are said to attend Agamemnon, Odysseus, Diomedes, and Eurypylos at the same time : “ . . . ‘ There Diomed, The gallant son of Tydeus, lies, and there Ulysses; the great spearman, wounded both ; And Agamemnon ; and Eurj'pylus, Driven from the field, an arrow in his thigh. Round them the healers, skilled in remedies. Attend, and dress their painful wounds, while thou, Achilles, sittest here implacable.’ ” Asklepios, son of Apollo and Koronis, was King of Thessaly, and Homer calls him Faultless.” Now, as this adjective is never attributed to the gods, a few have supposed Asklepios to have been an historic per¬ sonage and the myth relating to his apotheosis to 282 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. have been a later invention. In the “ Iliad ” he is on many occasions called “ an excellent physician,” and it is said that Cheiron the Kentaur, so famous for his medical knowledge, taught him his science. Machaon and Podaleirios were sons of Asklepios, and successors to the paternal glory. They led thirty ships against Troy, and served both as physicians and warriors. It was Machaon v/ho cured the wound of Menelaos : “ ‘ O son of .^sculapius, come in haste ! King Agamemnon calls thee to the aid Of warlike Menelaus, whom some hand Of Trojan or of Lycian, skilled to bend The bow, hath wounded with his shaft,—a deed For him to exult in, but grief to us.' ” That the physicians were also soldiers, a fact denied by Diodoros, is evident from the following passage, in which a herald is dispatched to summon Machaon to the aid of the wounded Menelaos, and the Aesklepiad is found at the head of his own phalanx : “ He spake; nor failed the herald to obey. But hastened at the word and passed among The squadrons of Achaia, mailed in brass. In search of great Machaon. Him he found. As midst the valiant ranks of bucklered men He stood,—the troops who followed him to war From Triccae, nurse of steeds. ...” Again, in the following passage, Machaon himself is mentioned as wounded: WOMEN AS PHYSICIANS. 283 “ Yet the Greeks Would not have yielded ground, if Paris, spouse Of fair-haired Helen, had not forced the chief Machaon, fighting gallantly, to pause; For with an arrow triple-barbed he pierced The chief’s right shoulder, and the valiant Greeks, Feared lest the battle turn and he be slain.” According to more recent writers, the two brothers, Podaleirios and Machaon, took up distinct branches of their profession—the former having devoted him¬ self to medicine in its entirety, while the latter ex¬ celled as a surgeon—and on this account it is claimed that surgery by some of the Roman poets was called ars Machaonea^ and the surgeons Machaones. Women as Physicians. —During the times of Ho¬ mer women were frequently instructed in medical sci¬ ence, and several of them became famous in their profession. Their knowledge, however, was limited to the use of herbs, and they had but slight acquaintance w'ith either anatomy or surgery. Instead of using their knowledge for the common good, after the ex¬ ample of the physicians, they usually sought to fur¬ ther their own private ends in a manner akin to magic. The following women are mentioned by Homer as pre-eminently distinguished in this respect: Agamede, Polydamne, Helen, and Kirke : The fair-haired Agamedd, eldest bom Of King Augeias’ daughters, was his spouse; 284 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. And well to her each healing herb was know*; That springs from the great earth." Helen had a certain sorrow-soothing herb, given her by the Egyptian Polydamne. Having steeped this in wine, she gave it to Telemachos and his companions, that they might forget their sorrows, and free them¬ selves from the melancholy that possessed their souls at the recollection of Odysseus. Opinions concerning this medicine are conflicting, and, as usual, a few enthusiastic scholars have written voluminously in regard to it. Among the ancient writers, Theophrastos repeats the words of Homer, relating to this passage, but adds nothing more, so that he either did not know the sor- row-soothing herb^ or entertained doubts as to its exist¬ ence. On the other hand, Diodoros asserts its exist¬ ence, and says that women still used it in his time to appease sorrow or wrath, but mentions nothing as to its preparation. Plutarch explains the matter differently, supposing that the sweet and consoling words of Helen were referred to as the sorrow-soothing herb. As, how¬ ever, the medicine is said to have been mixed in wine, it must have been some vegetable or mineral substance, rather than “ sweet words,” and it seems' strange that both Athenaeos and Apollonios, the Tyanean, follow the opinion of Plutarch. Among modern writers, a few claim that the sorrow-soothing herb was the Daicra DEA TIE 285 stratnonium ; others that it was a mixture of different narcotics ; while Micii, Wedel, and Friedreich take it to be opium. Is it not more probable that, as in the case of the 7noly^ the sorrow-soothing herb has reference not to any certain medicine, but to some mythical plant possessing magical properties ? When Homer states that it “ drew away sorrow,” he means that the herb contained some mysterious power of this sort, but he has no positive reference to any known narcotic. Polydamne was the wife of a rich Egyptian, who entertained Menelaos during his wanderings, and she is said to have given the medicine to Helen. Kirke, of whom we have already spoken, was the daughter of Helios and Perse. According to Diodoros, having married the king of the Skythians, she poisoned him and seized the sovereignty. She treated her sub¬ jects so cruelly that she was driven away, and, escaping to a remote island, applied herself to the study of the occult properties of plants, in the knowledge of which, in course of time, she greatly excelled. Her fame ex¬ tended throughout the ancient world, and her magic power for evil gave rise to many wild and improbable rumors. On account of her relations with Odysseus, she is one of the most important characters in Homer. DEATH.T^-Although the Greekspossessed the belief in immortality, he had the feeling that life was some¬ thing to be thoroughly enjoyed, and on this account 286 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. he earnestly longed for a happy and tranquil exist¬ ence. ^ Hence, death, which cuts off the thread of life, was considered as a dread necessity, and man was called short-lived, as subject to death. The bitter complaints of Achilles, at being doomed to an early grave, furnish a sufficient evidence of this feeling. Hades was always mentioned with terror, and Achilles prefers the life of a slave to that of a king in Hades : “ . . . I would be A laborer on earth, and serve for hire Some man of mean estate, who makes scant cheer, Rather than reign o'er all who have gone down To death.” From the following passage it may be seen that, for the Olympians themselves, Hades was considered a very joyless abode: “ Then Pluto, ruler of the nether world. Leaped from his throne in terror, lest the god Who makes the earth to tremble, cleaving it Above him, should lay bare to gods and men His horrible abodes, the dismal haunts > Which even the gods abhor.” According to the ancients, the blessed gods, the dispensers of happiness, sent also death, and, so long as man was ready to accept the good things of this life, there was no cause of complaint. The sudden death of DEA TH, 287 a healthy man was always attributed to Zeus or Apollo, and that of a woman to Artemis. Accordingly, he who wished for the death of another, always addressed him¬ self to these divinities. The Harpies also were often considered the cause of death. These loathsome god¬ desses of the air were said to seize those about to die, as if the north wind had carried them off. The follow¬ ing magnificent comparison from Homer of the passing generations of men to flowers withering and blooming, has always been justly admired ; “ . . . Like the race of leaves Is that of humankind : Upon the ground The winds strew one year’s leaves ; the sprouting grove Puts forth another brood, that shoot and grow In the spring season. So it is with man : One generation grows while one decays.” From the dark colors in which the poet painted death, it follows that the relatives and friends of the departed, feeling the eternal separation, notwithstand¬ ing all the assurances of religion, gave themselves up to bitter sorrow, and felt an inconsolable anguish at their loss. This manifestation of feeling, indeed, was re¬ garded as a solemn duty to the dead, and its non-ful¬ fillment was not only a violation of a sacred debt due to one’s friends, but an impiety to the gods : “. . . ‘I conjure thee now, by those Whom thou hast left behind and far away. 288 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS, Thy consort and thy father,—him by whom Thou when a boy wert reared,—and by thy son Telemachus, who in thy palace-halls Is left alone,—for well I know that thou. In going hence from Pluto’s realm, wilt moor Thy gallant vessel in the ^aean isle,— That there, O King, thou wilt remember me. And leave me not when thou departest thence Unwept, unburied, lest I bring on thee The anger of the gods.’ ” The Olympians themselves rendered the last duty to their beloved. Thus, Thetis takes care of the body of Patroklos, and pours nectar and ambrosia over it. Aphrodite prevents the decomposition of the aban¬ doned body of Hektor, anointing it with an ambrosial oil made of the essence of roses ; while Apollo ob¬ scures the sun, that the heat of its rays might not harm it: “ . . . But Hector was not made The prey of dogs, for Venus, bom to Jove, Drave off by night and day, the ravenous tribe. And with a rosy and ambrosial oil Anointed him, that he might not be tom When dragged along the earth. Above the spot And all around it, where the body lay, Phoebus Apollo drew a veil of clouds Reaching from heaven, that on his limbs the flesh And sinews might not stiffen in the sun.” To such an extent was this last duty deemed in¬ dispensable, that Orestes, having killed Aigisthos, the murderer of his father and the violator of his mother, DEATH. 289 feels constrained to pay these last honors to his vic¬ tim : “ Seven years in rich Mycenae he bore rule, And on the eighth, to his destruction, came The nobly-bom Orestes, just returned From Athens, and cut off that man of blood. The crafty wretch Aegisthus, by whose hand Fell his illustrious father. Then he bade The Argives to the solemn burial-feast Of his bad mother and the craven wretch Aegisthus.” It was believed that, unless these honors were paid to the dead, his soul was forever excluded from Hades. t To this belief must be attributed the care exercised in collecting and burying the bones of those who had fallen in battle. It was this belief, also, that urged on the aged Priam to expose himself to the greatest of dangers, and to enter the Hellenic camp, in order to recover the body of his son. To be buried with becom¬ ing honors was the last wish and consolation of the dying. As soon as death ensued, the mouth and the eyes of the dead were closed, exactly as to this day : “ . . . ‘ Death has overtaken thee. And thou couldst not escape. Unhappy one ! Now thou art dead thy father will not come To close thy eyes ; nor she, the honored one Who gave thee birth ; but birds of prey shall flap Their heavy wings above thee, and shall tear 290 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. Thy flesh, while I in dying shall receive Due funeral honors from the noble Greeks.’ ” • •••••• “. . . ‘ The shameless woman went Her way, nor stayed to close my eyes, nor press My mouth into its place, although my soul Was on its way to Hades.’ ” Next the body was washed and anointed. The washing had an allegorical signification, as it was sup¬ posed that thus all filth remained upon the earth, and the soul entered pure into its last abode. After the washing, the body was stretched upon a bed, with the feet turned toward the door, as an indication of the approaching departure, and was wrapped in cloaks and fine tunics. The wailings of the relatives, and especially of the women, now began. The fact that men, and even the heroes, did not entertain the opinion so prevalent to¬ day, as to the impropriety of weeping, in view of a long and bitter separation, is manifest from the warm tears of Achilles over the body of Patroklos. There were also professional singers seated around the death¬ bed, who extolled the virtues of the departed in songs called “ wailings,” a custom to this day preserved in Greece. These songs were interrupted from time to time by outbursts of sorrow on the part of some rela¬ tive or friend present, who, in loud voice, broken with DBA TIL 291 frequent sobs, praised the hero. Thus, Andromache over the body of Hektor : “ ‘ Thou hast died young, my husband, leaving me In this thy home, a widow, and one son. An infant yet. To an unhappy pair He owes his birth, and never will, I fear. Bloom into youth ; for ere that day will Troy Be overthrown, since thou, its chief defence. Art dead, the guardian of its walls and all Its noble matrons and its speechless babes. Yet to be carried captive far away. And I among them, in the hollow barks ; And thou, my son, wilt either go with me. Where thou shalt toil at menial tasks for some Pitiless master ; or perhaps some Greek Will seize thy little arm, and in his rage Will hurl thee from a tower and dash thee dead. Remembering how thy father Hector, slew His brother, son, or father ; for the hand Of Hector forced full many a Greek to bite The dust of earth. . . . Thou bringest an unutterable grief, O Hector, on thy parents, and on me The sharpest sorrows. Thou didst not stretch forth Thy hands to me, in dying, from thy couch. Nor speak a word to comfort me, which I Might ever think of night and day with tears.’ " Next Hekabe, the aged mother of the dead hero, took up the passionate lamentation ” : “ ‘ O Hector, thou who wert most fondly loved Of all my sons! While yet thou wert alive. 292 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. Dear wert thou to the gods, who even now. When death has overtaken thee, bestow Such care upon thee. All my other sons Whom swift Achilles took in war he sold At Samos, Imbrus, by the barren sea. And Lemnos harborless. But as for thee. When he had taken with his cruel spear Thy life, he dragged thee round and round the tomb Of his young friend, Patroclus, whom thy hand Had slain, yet raised he not by this the dead; And now thou Rest in the palace here. Fresh, and besprinkled as with early dew. Like one just slain with silent arrows aimed By Phoebus, bearer of the silver bow.’ ” Mourning for the dead was shown by abstaining, for the time being, from food and drink, by strewing dust and ashes on the head, tearing the cheeks and bosom with one’s nails, cutting off the hair and casting it over the body. The modern custom of wearing black clothes was already in vogue during the Flo- meric period, at least among women, inasmuch as Thetis, on learning of the death of Patroklos, put on ‘^her blackest garment”: “ So spake the goddess-queen, and, speaking, took Her mantle,—darker web was never worn,— And onward went. ...” “ ‘ The time has been when thou too, hapless one. Dearest of all my comrades, wouldst have spread With diligent speed before me in my tent, A genial banquet, while the Greeks prepared JDEA TIL 293 For desperate battle with the knights of Troy. Thou liest, now, a mangled corse, and I, Through grief for thee, refrain from food and drink. Though they are near. ...” “. . . The old king, With many tears, and rolling in the dust Before Achilles, mourned his gallant son: • •••••• * No ! by the greatest and the best of gods, By Jupiter, I may not plunge my head Into the bath before I lay my friend, Patroclus on the fire, and heap his mound. And till my hair is shorn; for never more In life will be so great a sorrow mine.’ ” Homer well understood, and depicted with in¬ imitable color, the remorseless destiny which carries away our dearest friends and condemns us often to a lifeless life. What unspeakable sorrow dwells in the following lines !— “ For even Niobe, the golden-haired. Refrained hot from her food, though children twelve Perished within her palace,—six young sons And six fair daughters.” The body remained exposed for several days ; that of Hektor was kept for nine days, and of Achilles for seventeen. It is not known how it was preserved so long a time ; but probably early decomposition was prevented by the use of certain ointments. Finally, the day of the funeral came. Burning the 294 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS, body was then the usual practice—a custom common among many Eastern nations, and to which the high¬ est civilization tends, gradually, to return. A pile of wood was prepared ; the body, anointed and splen¬ didly attired, was placed on a bier, carried by the most intimate friends of the dead. Others, perhaps the nearest relatives, sustained the head of the corpse, a torch was then applied, and the body surrendered to the flames: “ . . . In the midst was borne Patroclus by his comrades. Cutting off Their hair, they strewed it, covering the dead. Behind the corpse, Achilles in his hands Sustained the dead, and wept, for on that day He gave to Hades his most cherished friend.” While the body was being consumed, the most valued possessions of the dead were cast into the fire —arms, horses, etc.—for it was believed that he de¬ sired them in Hades. Then a vessel full of fat and honey was emptied upon the funeral-pile—the one to feed the fire, the other to appease death : “ . . . They who had the dead in charge Remained, and heaped the wood, and built a pyre, A hundred feet each way from side to side. With sorrowful hearts they raised and laid the corse Upon the summit. Then they flayed and dressed Before it many fatlings of the flock. And oxen with curved feet and crooked horns. From these magnanimous Achilles took - DEA TIE 295 The fat, and covered with it carefully The dead from head to foot. Beside the bier, And leaning towards it, jars of honey and oil He placed, and flung, with many a deep-drawn sigh. Twelve high-necked steeds upon the pile. Nine hounds There were, which from the table of the prince Were daily fed. ..." "... To the pile He put the iron violence of the fire, And, wailing, called by name the friend he loved." While the body was still burning, a friend of the deceased poured wine over the pyre, and called the departed by name. The fire was at length extinguished by wine poured “ into the flaming element" by all present. The bones were carefully collected, washed in wine, covered with fat and inclosed in a box, placed in a tomb, or covered with stones, over which a mound was raised. Over this mound a pillar was usually erected, on which a symbol was inscribed. Around the tomb trees were planted : “. . . ‘ But bum me there With all the armor that I wore, and pile. Close to the hoary deep, a mound for me,— A hapless man of whom posterity Shall hear. Do this for me, and plant upright Upon my tomb the oar with which I rowed. While yet a living man, among thy friends.’" 296 DJ?ESS AND ORNAMENTS _ Gymnastic exercises followed the funerals of kings and princes. Those of Patroklos and Hektor furnish a complete picture* of the prevailing customs. Usu¬ ally, after the funeral, a banquet, which had a religious meaning, was served by the relatives and friends of the departed : “ . . . When they all had come Together, first they quenched the funeral-fires, Wherever they had spread, with dark-red wine. And then his brothers and companions searched For the white bones. In sorrow and in tears. That streaming stained their cheeks, they gathered them. And placed them in a golden um. O’er this They drew a covering of soft purple robes. And laid it in a hollow gp’ave, and piled Fragments of rock above it, many and huge. In haste they reared the tomb, with sentries set On every side, lest all too soon the Greeks Should come in armor to renew the war. When now the tomb was built, the multitude Returned,'and in the halls where Priam dwelt. Nursling of Jove, were feasted royally. Such was the mighty Hector’s burial rite.” Friedreich remarks that the banquet was indispen¬ sable to revive their exhausted strength. After Death. — The Homeric psychology is a beautiful and most interesting theme. Three questions arise, connected with this subject—the condition of the body, of the soul, and of the mind. The mind was the acting part of the soul, the will, and the understanding. AFTER DEATH. 297 the seat of which was the bosom. The mind vanished with life, and then the truly abstract, unseen part re¬ mained, the soul, which escaped through the mouth or the wound, and wandered about the gates of Hades until the body was buried, when the soul re-entered it. The soul, once in Hades, was changed to a ghost. The ghosts retained the form of the body in life, but existed in a condition of narcosis, and lived as in a dream. Nevertheless, they were conscious of their position, remembered their former existence, and still took a lively interest in the affairs of the world, asking all new-comers for news of their relatives and friends. They possessed a longing for the honor due them, and the maintenance of their former station in life by their successors was especially inquired after. They were judged by Minos, the arbiter of Hades, and, if found guilty, were condemned. They felt keenly the causes that brought about their punishment, but even these feelings, compared to the vivid realities of life, were like the dreams of a shadow. Their abode in Hades was eternal. The reader must have noticed how much, in many respects, civilization was advanced in an epoch gener¬ ally deemed semi-barbarous, and belonging to mythol¬ ogy. The Homeric heroes, the immediate descendants of the Olympians, were more like their descendants of 298 DUESS AND ORNAMENTS. to-day. They had the same sentiments, and felt the same wants. The same love bound together relatives « and friends, the same hatred burned in the bosoms of enemies, the same virtues adorned the good, and, in fact, the same human nature appears essentially un¬ changed. Whosoever is familiar with the customs and habits of the Hellenes will derive from every line of the present work the conclusion that the Hellenic na¬ tion was already brilliant in the very horizon of its his¬ tory. For centuries it astounded the known world by its glory and achievements, and even in its misery and decline preserved by its determined character the seeds of its divine existence. Indeed, no nation has retained more unchanged its national characteristics. From the very playthings of childhood, through the course of life unto death, we are taught one lesson, unless we are constitutionally blind to actual facts, that the contemporary Athenian, Argeian, or Lakedaemonian, is the genuine descend¬ ant of the heroes who marched against Troy. , Note. —It may not be amiss here to g^ve a brief account of the Rangabe family, the most illustrious in Greece to-day. The family descends from the Emperor Rangabe, who suc¬ ceeded to the Byzantine throne in 811 and reigned until his abdication in 813. In the first years of this century a great part of the Greek aristocracy was established in the principali¬ ties of Wallachia and Moldavia (now Roumania), and, as the NOTE. 299 yoke of the Ottoman tyranny was less felt there, a flourishing civilization had sprung up. The grandfather of Mr. Kleon R. Rangab^, Mr. James Rangabe, was the brother-in-law and prime minister of the then reigning Prince of Wallachia, Alex¬ ander Soutzo, and governed the state in this capacity for more than ten years. At the same time both the prince and his prime minister, sacrificing all personal advantages, were among the most zealous promoters of the “ Society of Friends,” the secret society which prepared the Greek war of independence. Al¬ exander Rangabe, the father of Mr. Kleon R. Rangabe, was the only son of James. According to the desire of King Louis I of Bavaria, father of King Otho of Greece, Mr. Rangab6 stud¬ ied in the military school of Munich, and returned to Athens an officer. But he soon resigned from the army, and became the first Professor of Archaeology in the newly established Uni¬ versity of Athens, which position he held for many years. In 1856 he was appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs, and re¬ tained that position until the year i860, negotiating and sign¬ ing during that time all the principal treaties between Greece and the other European kingdoms. Mr. Alexander Rangabe was appointed in 1867 the first Greek Minister to the United States. He remained in Washington more than a year, and the numerous resolutions of sympathy for Greece and the Kretans voted by Congress at that time were the results of his energy. He was subsequently transferred to Paris, Con¬ stantinople, and Berlin, where he still resides as Greek envoy. Mr. Alexander Rangab6 is a versatile writer, and the most renowned author that modem Greece has produced. His complete literary works have been published in twelve vol¬ umes, containing many tragedies and comedies, novels, epic and lyric poems, etc. Most of these works have been trans¬ lated into the principal European languages, and several of his plays have been represented with great success in Ger¬ many. Among his works we find “ Les Antiquit^s Helle- niques,” being a description of all the inscriptions and other 300 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. antiquities found in Greece since the creation of the kingdom ; “ A History of Greek Art,” with numerous engravings ; “ A Political History of the Greek States ” ; “A History of Mod¬ ern Greek Literature ”; a treatise on the pronunciation of modern Greek, etc. He is a member of the French Academy, as well as of forty-three other academies and institutions, and has been awarded the principal decorations of the kingdoms of Europe. His wife was a daughter of Sir James Skene, a Scotch nobleman and intimate friend of Sir Walter Scott, who dedicated to him the fourth canto of his " Marmion.” Twelve children in all_^were bom to Alexander Rangab6—eight sons and four daughters—of whom three of each are still living. Kleon R. Rangabe, perhaps the most distingpiished scion of that noble family, was born the 22d of October, 1842, being the eldest of the sons of Alexander Rangab^. He studied in Greece until i860, and then in Germany and in Paris. On his return to Athens in 1864 he was attached for two years to the Foreign Office, and then was named first secretary to his father in his capacity of Minister to the United States. When his father left Washington in 1868, Kleon R. Rangab6 remained as acting minister until 1872. Having heard that many Greeks were residing in California, he availed himself of the new Pacific road, and visited that magnificent State. In San Francisco he discovered over three hundred of his fel¬ low-countrymen, and established a consulate, which is still flourishing. On this occasion he was honored with a sere¬ nade, and the Greek language was for the first time officially heard on the Pacific coast in the speech which he pronounced from the balcony of the Continental Hotel. In the year 1871 Mr. Kleon R. Rangab6 was married to the daughter of Baron Gerolt, for many years German Minister to the United States. His marriage was the first Greek Orthodox ceremony ever cele¬ brated in America. In 1872 he was transferred to St. Peters¬ burg as first secretary of legation, and then to the Austrian court, where he remained two years. In 1874 he was named NOTE. 301 consul-general to Bucharest, where he remained six years, and signed the first commercial treaty with Roumania. He was appointed in 1880 diplomatic agent in Egypt, where he re¬ mained till after the battle of Tel-el-Kebir, taking an active part in the contests of the last two years. On the day of the massacres in Alexandria he hastened to the spot in an open carriage. After vainly trying to save two English gentlemen, Messrs. Dobson and Richardson, who were murdered on his knees, he was himself attacked. His driver and horses were killed, and he himself narrowly escaped death. Greece being the nearest country to the scene of the massacres, Kleon R. Rangab6 asked his government to send him all available steamers, men-of-war and commercial. Eight steamers kept constantly plying to and fro until the moment of the bom¬ bardment, and through the efforts of Kleon R. Rangab6 alone twenty-five thousand Greeks and other Europeans were saved. These were transported to different parts of Greece, and pro¬ vided for gratis during the whole summer, until they could return to Egypt. Kleon R. Rangab6 witnessed the bombard¬ ment on board the Greek frigate Hellas, and, the American admiral having re-entered the port immediately after the great event, he followed with the Hellas and the ironclad King George. England, as is well known, after bombarding the city, abandoned it to its fate. The American admiral and Kleon R. Rangab^ disembarked one hundred and twenty men as w’ell as two pumps each, and for a whole week they did all that human power could to extinguish the fire and save life and property. After the capture of Arabi Pasha, Kleon R. Ran- gab6 was transferred as diplomatic agent to Bulgaria, where he is still residing. Among his literary works we notice “ The Labors of Hercules, or Mythology for the Young” ; “ Senti¬ mental Travels in Germany ” ; “ Julian the Apostate,” a philo¬ sophical drama in verse ; “ Theodora,” an historical drama in verse ; “ Domestic Life in Homer's Age ” ; ” Heraclius,” an historical drama in verse; “ Fire under the Cinders,” a com- 14 302 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS. edy in prose; “Sorrows,” a collection of lyric poems, etc. The works of Mr. Kleon R. Rangab6 bear the stamp of originality and of genius. His style is vigorous and majestic, not unlike that of the poet Bryant. THE END. WORKS ON ANCIENT HISTORY A HISTORY OF GREECE. From the Earliest Times to the Pres¬ ent. By T. T. Timatenis. With Maps and Illustrations. 2 toIs. 12mo. Cloth, $2.50. “While I cheerfully acknowledge my obligations to Gibbon and Grote—the most eminent of modem historians—acarelu! study of the Greek writers has led rne to differ from them on many important matters. Tlie peculiar feature of the f tresent work, therefore, is that it is founded on Hellenic sources. 1 have not lesitaleil to follow the Father of History in portraying the heroism and the sac- riflces of the Hellenes in their first war for independence, nor, in delineating the character of that epoch, to form my judgment largely from the records he has left Vii."—Extract from l^eface. A GENERAL HISTORY OF GREECE, from the Earliest Period to the Death of Alexander the Great. With a Sketch of the Subsequent History to the Present Time. By G. W. Cox. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. “ One of the best of the smaller histories of Greece. Perhaps th^most strik¬ ing peculiarity of the work is the importance the author attaches £o mythology as a key to the characteristics of early civilization. In these theories ho follows Curtius and rejects Grote.”— Dr. (J. K. Adams's Manual of Historical Literature. HISTORY OF HERODOTUS. An English Version, edited, with Copious Notes and Appendices, by George Rawlixson, M. A. With Maps and Illustrations. In four volumes, 8vo. Vellum cloth, $8.00; half calf, $16.00. “ This must be considered as by far the most valuable version of the works of ‘The Father of History.’ The history of Herodotus was probably not written until near the end of his life ; it is certain that he had been collecting materials for it during many years. Thei-e was scarcely a city of importance in Greece, Asia Minor, Syria, Persia, Arabia, or Egypt, that he had not visited and studied ; and almost every page of his work contains results of his personal inquiries and observations. Many tilings, laughed at for centuries as impossible, are now found to haye been described in strict accordance with truth.” WILLARD'S GENERAL HISTORY, from b. c. 800 to a. d. 1876. Outlined in Diagrams and Tables; with Index and Genealogies. For Gen¬ eral Reference, and for Schools and Colleges. 8vo. Cloth, $2.00. HISTORY OF ROME. By Dr. Thomas Arnold. Large 8vo. Cloth, $3.00. Dr. Arnold’s colossal reputation is founded on this great work. Without go¬ ing all lengths with Niebuhr, he rejects the fabulous portion of Roman history; and, while giving the old legends in their original form, he points out their fal¬ lacy, and subjects every part of his work to a rigid criticism, based on extensive learning and sound judgment. HISTORY OF THE ROMANS UNDER THE EMPIRE. By CHARI.E3 Mkrivale, B. D., Rcctor of Lawford; Chaplain to the House of Commons. Beautifully printed. 7 vols. Small 8vo. Cloth, $14.C0. The Same. New edition. 7 vols. in four. 12mo. Cloth, $7.00. “ A work that has justly taken high rank in the historical literature of modem England. Some of his chapters must long be regarded as admirable specimens of elegant literary workmanship. The author be/^ns his history with the gradual transfer of the old Republic to the imperialism of the Caesars, and ends it with the ago of the Antonines. It therefore exactly fills the gap between Momin8s«o and Gibbon.” p t Works on Ancient History. — {Continued.) MONTESQUIEU'S CONSIDERATIONS ON THE CAUSES OF THE GRANDEUR AND DECADENCE OF THE ROMANS. A New Translation, together with an Introduction, Critical and Illustrative Notes, and an Analytical Index. By Jehtt Baker. Being incidentally a Rational Discussion of the Phenomena and the Tendencies of History in gen¬ eral. 12mo. Cloth, $2.00. “ Mr. Jehu Baker has rendered a great service to English-speaking people by producing anew and admirable translation of Montesquieu’s ‘ Considerations on the Grandeur and Decadence of the Romans.’ But Mr. Baker has by no means confined himself to the simple work of translation. Many foot-notes have been added throughout the volume, and each chapter is followed by an extended and elaborate note. In this work Mr. Baker has in general been most judicious. The additions are thoroughly in harmony with the spirit and the treatment of the original. The central thought which the book seeks to enforce is that of a progressive movement pervading the history of the world. Admirably as this was shown by Montesquieu himself, the last hundred and fifty years have afibrded many striking illustrations of its truth, and of these Mr. Baker has made good use. A very few instances of inexactness of statement in his author are also ex¬ plained or corrected in the notes, and a careful analytical index greatly increases the value of the work for purposes of reference.”— Boston Courier. DIGEST OF ANCIENT AND MODERN HI8T0R Y. By Teomas Dew. 8vo. Cloth, $2.20. “ So nearly what its title indicates that any considerable description is un¬ necessary. In method, however, it is somewhat unusual. Each paragraph begins with a question, which it is the purpose of the paragraph to answer.”— Dr. C. K. Adams's Manual of Historical Literature. MANUAL OF ANCIENT AND MODERN HISTORY. By W. C. Tatlor, LL. D., M. R. a. S. Revised by C. S. Henrt, D. D. 8vo. Cloth, $3.50; or, in separate volumes, $2.00 each. Ancient Histort. —Containing the Political History, Geographical Position, and Social State of the Principal Nations of Antiquity, carefully digested from the Ancient Writers, and illustrated by the Discoveries of Modem Scholars and Travelers. Modern Histort.— Containin^the Rise and Progress of the Principal Euro¬ pean Nations, their Political History, and the Changes in their Social Condi¬ tion ; with a History of the Colonies founded by Europeans. Dryness is generally characteristic of condensed historical outlines; in the present case it is avoided by the vigorous style of the author, and the introduc¬ tion of interesting anecdotes and episodes that serve to relieve the mind, and bring out in clear light the peculiarities of individual or national character. Tlie American edition has been revised throughout by Dr. Henry, and enlarged by the introduction of an admirable chapter on American history. HISTORY OF THE WORLD, from the Earliest Records to the Fall of the Western Empire. By Philip Smith, B. A. New edition. 3vols., 8vo. Vellum cloth, gilt top, $6.00. ” These volumes embody the results of many years of arduous and conscien¬ tious study. The work is fully entitled to be called the ablest and most satis¬ factory book on the subject written in our language. The author’s methods are dignified and judicious, and he has availed himself of all the recent light thrown by philological research on the annals of the East.”— Dr. C. K. Adams's Manual (f Historical Literature. _ New York : B. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 6 Bond Street. COMPLETE IN SIX VOLUMES, OCTAVO. HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES, FROM THE DISCOVERY OF THE CONTINENT. By GEORGE BANCROFT. An entirely new edition, partly rewritten and thoroughly revised. TTie author ha^ made expensive changes in the texi, condensing in places^ enlarging in others., and carefully revising. It is practically a new work, embodying the results of the latest researches and enjoying the advantage of the authorh long and mature experience. The original octavo edition was in twelve volumes. The present edition is complete in six volumes, octavo, the price being correspondingly reduced. With Portrait of the Author. Handsomely printed from new type. Cloth, uncut, with, gilt top, S2.50; sheep, S3.50; and half calf, S4.50 per volume. EXTRACTS FROM REVIEWS. “ The merits of Bancroft’s ‘ History of the United States ’ are so well known that little need be said of the new edition, the first volume of which, reaching to 1688, has just been published in very handsome form, except to point out the changes since the revision of 1876. One of the most prominent is the introduction of a division into three parts, beginning respectively at 1492, 1660, and 1688. There has been less change in the accovmts of Ameri¬ can than of European matters, but the most important addition, anywhere, is that of two pages describing and praising Captain Smith’s government of Virginia. Often, when there appears to be an addition or omission, there is in reality only a transposition. The whole class of changes may bo at¬ tributed to greater maturity of judgment, rather than to discovery of new material. Other changes aim simply at improvement of style. The vol¬ umes are printed in the stately octavo style of the first edition, which seems more appropriate to such a standard work than the cheaper form of the other revision.”— Boston Advertiser. “ Apparently no new material of particular moment has been inserted, although several sketches of famous characters have been rewritten either entirely or in part. The work as a whole is in better shape, and is of course HISTOEY OF THE UNITED STATES.— more authoritative than ever before. • This last revision will he without doubt, both from its desirable form and accurate text, the standard one.”— Boston Traveller. “ Our examination of the fii-st volume leads us to believe that the thought of the historian loses nothing by the abbreviation of the text. A closer and later approximation to the best results of scholarship and criticism is reached. The public gains by its more compact brevity and in amount of matter, and in economy of time and money.”— The Independent (New York). “ There is nothing to be said at this day of the value of ‘ Bancroft.’ Its authority is no longer in dispute, and as a piece of vivid and realistic his¬ torical writing it stands among the best works of its class. It may be taken for granted that this new edition will greatly extend its usefulness.”— Phila¬ delphia North American. “ While it is not quite true that the marks of Mr. Bancroft’s revision of his great history of the United States are visible on every page, a careful comparison of the earlier editions and this shows that the claim to improve¬ ment is by no means ill-founded. Sometimes whole paragraphs have been cut out; still oftener the extravagances of a youthful style have been care¬ fully pruned, and the gain has been manifest in sobriety and effect.”— Philadelphia Press. “ The work is much improved in its new dress and revised form, and will be welcomed by all, for Bancroft’s history of our country is still princeps among histories of our land.”— Chicago Tribune. “ Thus far he has removed many of the objections which stood against his history as a work of permanent value; and there is a certain solid, thor¬ ough, substantial character to his great history which gives it a permanent weight in the world of letters. The work now takes rank with the best histories of the school of philosophical narrative to which the author be¬ longs.”— Boston Herald. “ The edition of 1876 exhibited no little pruning and correction; but the author has again gone over the entire field, and, with a care and devotion worthy of the theme and of his reputation, has wrought what he says must be his last revision. This latest edition will be sought by many who have for years been familiar with its predecessors.”— Utica (N. Y.) Herald. For sale by aU booksellers; or sent by mail^ post-paid, on receipt of price. New York; D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. HISTORY OF THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES, FROM THE REVOLUTION TO THE CIVIL WAR. By JOHN BACH McMASTES. To be completed in five volumes. Tolume I now ready. Svo, clothe gilt top, $S.50. Scope op the Work. In the course of this narrative much is written of wars^ conspiracies., and rebellions ; of Presidents^ of Congresses^ of embassies^ of treaties^ of the ambition of political leaders^ and of the rise of great parties in the nation. Yet the history of the people is the chief theme. At every stage of the splendid progress which separates the Ameinca of Washington and Adams from the America in which we live., it has been the author's purpose to describe the dress, the occupations, the amusements, the literary canons of the times ; to note the changes of manners and morals ; to trace the growth of that humane spirit which abolished punishment for debt, and reformed the discipline of prisons and of jails ; to recount the manifold improve¬ ments which, in a thousand ways, have multiplied the conveniences of life and ministered to the happiness of our race ; to descinbe the rise and prog¬ ress of that long series of mechanical inventions and discoveines which is now the admiration of the world, and our just pride and boast ; to tell how, under the benign influence of liberty and peace, there sprang up, in the course of a single century, a prosperity unparalleled in the annals of human affairs. EXTRACTS FROM REVIEWS. “ What the late Professor J. R. Green did for his countrymen by writing his ‘ History of the English People,’ Mr. John Bach McMaster has essayed to do for ns in a ‘ History of the People of the United States, from the Revolution to the Civil War.’ The plan of the two works is essentially the same, but the American narrative is even more faithful to the principles upon which both authors profess to write. We hear less in it about wars, treaties, and politics, and more about the manners, customs, ideas, and sentiments of the great mass of the people, than in the English book. The pledge given by Mr. McMaster, that ‘ the history of the people shall be the chief theme,’ is punctiliously and satisfactorily fuelled. He carries out his promise in a complete, vivid, and delightful way. We should add that the literary execution of the work is worthy of the indefatigable indus¬ try and unceasing vigilanco with which the stores of historical material have History op the People op the United States.— {Continued.) been accumulated, weighed, and sifted. The cardinal qualities of style, lucidity, animation and energy, are everywhere present. Seldom, indeed, has a book, in which matter of substantial value has been so happily united to attractiveness ol form, been offered by an American author to his fellow-citizens.”—Aert? York Sun. ‘‘To recount the marvelous progress of the American people; to describe their life, their literature, their occupations, their amusements, is Mr. McMaster’s object. His theme is an important one, and we congratulate him on his success. His style is interesting and lively, and he gives such a graphic picture of our forefathers that it is a pleasure to follow him. Page after page of easily-flowing narrative fix the attention, and one wonders where the author found his material for so elaborate and yet so entertaining a book. It has rarely been our province to notice a book with so many excellences and so few defects.”— New York Uerald. “ Mr. McMaster at once shows his grasp of the various themes and his special capacity as an historian of the people. His aim is high, but he hits the mark. His treatment of the great subject is very able, and the sincere intentions of the au¬ thor appear on every page. There will be no question that he has rescued from oblivion a vast mass of those interesting data which, small in themselves, are of the greatest value in reflecting the actual condition of a people at a given time.” —New York Journal of Commerce. ‘‘ It ranks with the ‘ Short History’ of Mr. Green in its brilliancy of style and in its power of attracting and holding the attention of the reader. The remain¬ ing volumes will be awaited with eager w.i&xQ&V—Cleveland Herald. ‘‘I have had to read a good deal of history in my day, but I And so much freshness in the way Professor McMaster has treated his subject that it is quite like a new "—Philadelphia Press. ‘‘Mr. McMaster’s success as a writer seems to us distinct and decisive. In the first place he has written a remarkably readable history. His style is clear and vigorous, if not always condensed. He has the faculty of felicitous compari¬ son and contrast in a marked degree. Whatever may be said in criticism of it, no one will impute to it dullness in any part. He has the power of enchaining the attention. Few who begin this book will fail to read it to the end, and the great mass of readers it will hold as by a spell. Mr. McMaster has produced one of the most spirited of histories, a book which will be widely read, and the enter¬ taining quality of which is conspicuous beyond that of any work of its kind. It deserves a cordial recognition at the hands of those who are interested in the development of American literature, and it will command its own passport with the people.”— Boston Gazette. ‘‘ In compact, crisp, concentrated statement, we have the events of the first century of our national existence vividly portrayed. The procession of events is marshaled with care, and it moves along smoothly, and even brilliantly, in the easy flow and apt statement of the well-fortified vixWox."—Boston Commonwealth. For sale by all booksellers; or sent by mail^ post-paid., on receipt qf price. Kew York: D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. D. APPLETON & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS. A GEOGRAPHICAL READER. A Collection of Geographical Descriptions and Narrations, fioiu the best Writers in English Lit¬ erature. Classified and arranged to meet the wants of Geographical Students, and the higher grades of reading classes. By James J onoNNOT, author of “ Principles and Practice of Teaching.” 12mo, cloth, $1.26. “ Mr. Johonnot has made a good hook, which, if judiciously used, will stop the immeuse waste of time now spent in most schools in the study of geography to little purpose. The volume has a good number of appropriate illustrations, and is printed and bound in almost faultless style and taste .”—NationaiJournaZ qf EducatUnfi. It is original and unique in conception and execution. It is varied in style, and treats of every variety of geographical topic. It supplements the geograph¬ ical text-books, and, by giving additional interest to the study, it leads the pupil to more extensive geographical reading and research. It is not simply a collec¬ tion of dry statistics and outline descriptions, but vivid narrations of great liter¬ ary merit, that convey useful information and promote general culture. It con¬ forms to the philosophic ideas upon which the new education is based. Its selections are from the best standard authorities. It is embellished with numer¬ ous and appropriate illustrations. A NATURAL HISTORY READER, for Schools and Homes. Beautifully illustrated. Compiled and edited by James Johonnot. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. “ The natural turn that children have for the country, and for birds and beasts, wild and tame, is taken advantage of very wisely by Mr. Johonnot, who has had experience in teaching and in making school-books. His selections are generally excellent. Articles by renowned naturalists, and interesting papers by men who, if not renowned, can put things pointedly, alternate with serious and humorous verse. ‘ The Popular Science Monthly ’ has furnished much material. The ‘Atlantic’ and the works of John Burroughs are contributors also. There are illustrations, and the compiler has some sensible advice to offer teachers in regard to the way in which to interest young people in matters relating to na¬ ture.”—Aeta York Times. AN HISTORICAL READER, for Classes in Academies, nigh- Schools, and Grammar-Schools. By Henry E. Suepherd, M. A. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. “ This book is one of the most important text-books issued within our recol¬ lection. The preface Is a powerful attack upon the common method of teaching history by means of compJendiums and abridgments. Professor Shepherd has * long advocated the beginning of history-teaching by the use of graphic and lively sketches of those illustrious characters around whom the historic interest of each age is concentrated.’ This volume is an attempt to embody this idea in a form for practical use. Irving, Motley, Macaulay, Prescott, Greene, Froude, Momm¬ sen, Guizot, and Gibbon are among the authors represented; and the subjects treated cover nearly all the greatest events and greatest characters of time. The book is one of indescribable interest. The boy or girl who is not fascinated by it must be dull indeed. Blessed be the day when it shall be introduced into our high-schools, in the place of the dry and wearisome ‘ facts and figures ’ of the ‘ general history ’ 1 '"—Iowa Normal Monthly. New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. D. APPLETON £ CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. ERRORS IN THE USE OF ENGLISH. By the late William B. Hodgson, LL. D., Professor of Political Economy in the University of Edinburgh. Amei'ican revised edition. 12mo, cloth, $1.50. “ This posthumous work of Dr. Hodgson desei-ves a hearty welcome, for it is sure to do good service for the object it has in view—improved accuracy in the use of the English language. . . . Perhaps its chief use will be in very distinctly proving with what wonderful carelessness or incompetency the English language IS generally written. For the examples of error here brought together are not picked from obscure or inferior writings. Among the grammatical sinners whose trespasses are here recorded appear many of our best-known authors and publi¬ cations.”—T/ k? Academy. THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR OF WILLIAM COBBETT. Carefully revised and annotated by Alfred Ayres. With Index. 18mo, cloth, extra, $1.00. “ I know it well, and have read it with great admiration.”— Richard Grant White. “Cobbett’s Grammar is probably the most readable grammar ever written. For the purposes of self-education it is unrivaled. Persons that studied grammar when at school and failed to comprehend its principles—and there are many such —as well as those that never have studied grammar at all, will find the book specially suited to their needs. Any one of average intelligence that will give it a careful reading will be rewarded with at least a tolerable knowledge of the subject, as nothing could be more simple or more lucid than its expositions.”— From the Preface. THE ORTHOEPIST : A Pronouncing Manual, containing about Three Thousand Five Hundred Words, including a Considerable Number of the Names of Foreign Authors, Artists, etc., that are often mispronounced. By Alfred Ayres. 18mo, cloth, extra, $1.00. “ It gives us pleasure to say that we think the author, in the treatrent of this very difficult and intricate subject, English pronunciation, gives proof of not only an unusual degree of orthoepical knowledge, but also, for the most part, of rare judgment and taste.”— Joseph Thomas, LL. D., in Literary World. THE VERBALIST : A Manual devoted to Brief Discussions of the Right and the Wrong Use of Words, and to some other matters of Interest to those who would Speak and Write with Propriety, includ¬ ing a Treatise on Punctuation. By Alfred Ayres. 18mo, cloth, extra, $1.00. ” This is the best kind of an English grammar. It teaches the right use of our mother-tongue by giving instances of the wrong use of it, and showing why they are wrong.’’— Churchman. “ Every one can learn something from this volume, and most of ns a great ^cs.\.*‘—Sprincifield Jlepublican. New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. D. APPLETON & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS The Household Book of Poetry. Edited by Charles A. Dana. Entirely new edition, from new type, with nearly two hundred additional poems. Steel Engravings. Square 8vo. Cloth, gilt, $5.00. “When the first edition of ‘The Household Book of Poetry’ was published by Mr. Dana in 1857, no other collection could so much as aspire to rival it. Since then we have had Bryant's collection and Emerson's collection, both by poets of fame, and both presumably eclipsing the effort of a writer who is not, so far as the world knows, a poet. Nevertheless Mr. Dana’s collection remains the best of the three. The book deservedly keeps the lead in popular favor which it took at the start .’’—Yoik Times. “Every intelligent reader and student of poetry has of course his own favorites, but we are safe in saying that no popular anthology is so well calculated as this to gratify and instruct the general public, or to provide for the genuine lover of verse so much that is good and worthy of preservation .’’—Boston Traveller. “Mr. Dana has added nearly two hundred poems to his well-arranged collection, including many short r>oera8 by authors who have not published volumes. The col¬ lection now includes eleven hundred and seventy-five selections from three hundred and seventy-seven authors, eighty-five of whom are Americana, and fifty-two women. This edition gives a list of authors, a list of the poems, and an index of first lines, and is printed with new type.”—Aeif Ycnk World. Fifty Perfect Poems. A Collection of Fifty Acknowl¬ edged Masterpieces, by English and American Poets, selected and edited by Charles A. Dana and Rossiter Johnson. With Seventy Original Illustrations from Drawings by Alfred Fredericks, Frank Millet, Will Low, T. W. Dewing, W. T. Smedley, F. 0. C. Darley, Swain Gifford, Harry Fenn, Appleton Brown, William Sartain, Arthur Quartley, J. D. Woodward, Walter Satterlee, S. G. McCutcheon, and J. E. Kelley. The illustrations are printed on Japanese silk paper, and mounted on the page. The volume is bound in silk. Large 8vo. $ 10 . 00 . “The title of this volume may perhaps appear a little audacious to those who recall Pope’s familiar dictum as to the impossibility of a faultless piece. In the absolute sense of the term, there is, of course, no perfect poem, because there is no perfect thing of any kind. But, as every art has its limitations, in whatsoever work the im¬ perfections are caused by these limitations alone, the artist may fairly be said to have succeeded to perfection. On this principle the poems here collected have been chosen.” —From Preface. The Bryant Birthday-Book. With Portrait of Bry¬ ant and Twelve Engravings illustrative of the Months. Printed with red lines. 18mo. Cloth, red edges, $1.26. “ The Bryant Birthday-Book ” is a little larger than the Longfellow, Whittier, and other birthday-books, and a handsomer volume. It is print'd with red lines, and con¬ tains a portrait of Bryant and twelve illustrations appropriate for the months. The binding is elegant and unique. New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, &; 6 Bond Street. THE LIFE AND WORKS OF William Cullen Bryant. Edited by PARKE GODWIN. I. A BIOGRAPHY OF WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT, with Extracts from his Priyato Correspondence. By Paeke Godwin. With Two Portraits on Steel: one from a Painting by Morse, taken in 1825, and one from a Photograph taken in 1873. In two vols., square 8vo. Cloth, $6.00. Containing a full account, from authentic soprces, of the poet’s ancestry; of his boy¬ hood among the Hampshire hills; of his early poems; of his ten years’ life as a country lawyer; of his long editorial career in New York; of his intercourse with contempora¬ ries ; of his travels abroad and at home; of the origin of many of hiS poems; of his political opinions; of his speeches and addresses; and of the honors he received. “ Perhaps the most entertaining and delightful memoir of the present generation, combining, as it does, the charm of the poet and the force of a publicist; the freshness and beauty of the country, with the wealth and refinement of the city; every variety of intellectual life; social and public questions; brilliant conversation and rich corre¬ spondence; travel in foreign lands; scenes in the eye of a poet and philosopher—all these and a host of other subjects, admirably selected, arranged, and touched, make up two charming volumes, w'hich we have read with ^eat interest.”— New York Ob¬ server. “Mr. Parke Godwin has done his work of love with remarkable completeness. The biography is more than its name implies. Mr. Bryant’s life was so closely inter¬ woven with the literature and politics of the country that Mr. Godwin’s work becomes, in effect, a history of the development of thought in the United States for the last sixty years. On this account Mr. Godwin’s latest labors are of extraordinary value, the full measure of which can not now be estimated.”— New York Journal of Commerce. II. THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. In two vols., square 8vo, uniform with the “ Biography.” Cloth, gilt top, $6.C0; half calf or half morocco, $12.00. This edition of Mr. Bryant’s poems contains: 1. All Mr. Bryant’s poems that have hitherto appeared, with his latest corrections. 2. Sixty or more never before collected, including some thirty beautiful hymns, and a companion piece to “Sella” and “The Little People of the Snow.” 8. Copious notes by Parke Godwin, giving various changes in the more important poems, an account of their origin, and other interesting information. “No more fitting memorial of a poet could bo devised by ingenuity and affection combined than an edition of his works in a form so beautiful as this. No finer speci¬ mens of book-making have ever issued from the American press than these volumes. The type is largo, the press-work simply perfect, the margins wide and uncut except at the top, and the binding rich and tasteful. Many so-called editions de IVKe are inferior to this in real excellence. The time has not yet come for a just estimate of Bryant’s true place as a poet. But is it not something to have earned the distinction of being the only American poet of a century who has written blank verso that will live in literature alongside of that of Wordsworth and Milton?”— New Jork Examiner. III. PROSE WRITINGS OF WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. In two vols., square 8vo, uniform with the “ Biography.” Cloth, gilt top, $6.00. Literary Essays. Narratives. Commemorative Discourses. CONTAINING : Sketches of Travel. Occasional Addresses. Editorial Comments and Criticisms. New York; D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 6 Bond Street. DOES NOT CIRCULATE CHESTNUT HILL. MASS. ... . i Books may be kept for two weeks and /nay be renewed for the same period, unless served. Two cents a di.y is charged for each book kept overtime. \ If you cannot find what you want, ask the Librarian who wdll be glad to help you. The borrower is responsible for books drawn on his card and for all fines accruing on the same. •