98Mx Fl65 .NRLF ^ 1883, i LIBRARV j OF THE University of California. OTF^X OR Received c//^Vr . iSgV- Accession Noj(??U//'^ . Cla^s No. J ^^ ^ Fi^ introduction, this small volume (145 pages) contains three 1 p. 11. 2 Sittengeschichte Roms, vol. II. (6th ed,), pp. 188-273. '■' This has since been followed by the same author's " Die Entwicklung des Naturgefiihls bei den Romern " (Kiel, 1884) ; and " Die Entwicklung des Naturgefiihls im Mittelalter und in der Neuzeit " (Leipzig, 1892). 6 chapters, one on the naive feeling for nature in mythology and Homer, a second on the sympathetic feeling for nature in lyric poetry and the drama, and a third on the sentimental and idyllic feeling for nature in Hellenistic and imperial times. What can With the main ideas in this work no student of Greek still be literature is likely to disagree seriously, but a careful invettT reading of the volume has convinced me that in con- gation? nection with this subject a good deal of profitable w^ork still remains to be done. Before the subject can be regarded as exhausted, the attitude of each of the great Greek writers to nature must be studied in detail and in reference to his contemporaries, and not till this^ has been done can we afford to indulge in generalisations, however plausible. Still more recent than Biese's work is an essay on " The Dawn of Romanticism in Greek Poetry," by Prof Butcher, of Edinburgh, contained in his very interesting book, " Some Aspects of the Greek Genius " (Macmillan, 1893). The line 9f thought followed by Butcher will be indicated by one of his opening paragraphs : " The great change which passed over imaginative literature under the influence of Christi- anity was not without preparation. Within the limits of Greek literature itself there are many premonitory symp- toms of the new direction in which feeling was tending, of a new attitude towards the things of the heart and another mode of contemplating the universe without. An exclu- sive attention to the earlier epochs of Greek literature has obscured the gradual stages of this process." ^ This is very reasonable speaking and yet in his interesting essa}^ Butcher does not take sufficient account of Euripides, or estimate aright his position in the growth of the romantic spirit. " The change of sentiment," he says, " sets in only from the time of Alexander onward." Again : " For the first time, in the period subsequent to Alexander the Great, arose the feeling for landscape, and, growing out of it, an independent art of landscape painting." Butcher does indeed admit that inasmuch as in the Hippolytus " Euri- pides brought upon the stage womanly passion," his tragedy being " a pathological study rather than a dramatic repre- sentation of life," he was " the first of the sentimental poets and the forerunner of modern romanticism," but in 1 p. 246. his attitude towards external nature Euripides' peculiar position as the first of the Greek romanticists is far from being recognized. The attitude of Homer towards nature seems to be well Object understood ; at least he has received considerable attention °^ *^^ ^ in regard to this subject.^ So too with the Greek lyric study. poets.2 But no detailed study has ever been made of the attitude of the great tragedians towards nature and their relations to one another in this respect. Nobody, too, so far as I know, has observed that one important point of Aristophanes' criticism of Euripides is the latter's senti- mentalism in his treatment of external nature. This is the subject to which I have addressed myself. Results I have endeavoured to gather together all the material ^^'^le^^^^- afforded by the dramatists themselves, to study their con- ception of nature individually and in comparison with one another, and thirdly to substantiate the view that in criti- cizing Euripides for excessive sentimentalism, Aristophanes protests against tragedy being made a vehicle for the effusive expression of a feeling for nature. There are many different ways in which a poet may Various look at nature.'^ He may, for instance, feel a simple, unre- "^^des of fiective delight in external scenes, — a sense of freedom and plating invigorating freshness or a childlike wonder at nature's nature, phenomena. Or he may take an interest in scenes because of their associations, — religious or patriotic feeling, sad or happy memories being aroused by them. Again, he may treat nature as a means of illustrating human life — so familiar to us in Homer's use of similes. Moreover, a poet may embody photographic views of nature, in which a scene is accurately described with a faithful realism, which indicates the close observation of an artist, but not neces- sarily a warm love or genuine enthusiasm for nature herself. Of such poetry, Thomson's Seasons is a good illustration, but the best descriptions of this sort to-day ^ BucHHOLZ : Ueber die homerische Naturanschauung, Erfurt, Prog. 1870. And H. Schmidt : Homer als Kenner der Natur und treuer Darsteller, etc., etc. 2 See V. KiTTLiTZ : Naturbilder aus der griechischen Lyrik, and Symonds, J. A., Greek Poets. ^ See Shairp : Poetic Interpretation of Nature. 8 appear in prose, as in the case of Ruskin, Thoreau or John Muir.^ But further, the poet may transfer his own emotions to sea and sky, to hill and dale and stream, and looking at nature " through a coloured atmosphere of human feeling,"- may make her " rejoice with them that do rejoice and weep with them that weep." This is the tendency to which Ruskin so aptly gave the name of " The Pathetic Fallacy." Lastly, there is a delight in nature which seeks to pene- trate into her mysteries, which spiritualizes and person- alizes the outw^ard world, giving it an ideal grace and flinging " A magic light o'er all her hills and groves." This, in brief, is the conception w^hich Wordsworth intro- duced into modern poetry and which was almost unknow^n before his day. In Wordsworth, we have for the first time a distinctive poetry of nature, in which nature is the centre, while man is subordinate. What was It is pertinent now to ask, what in general was the the Greek Greek conception of nature in classical times ? tkm of Nothing can be affirmed more truly of the Greeks than nature ? their belief that ** The proper study of mankind is man." Man the To Browning's dictum, " Little else is worth study than the centre of incidents in the development of a soul," they would have m eres . }^ga^j.^jiy assented. And especially true is this in regard to their treatment of nature. However fond of nature they were, she was not studied for her own sake, but man is the centre of their literature, while nature serves mainly as the background of the picture, against wdiich are pre- / sented the joys and sorrows, the emotions and struggles of humanity. Nature may serve to illustrate scenes in human life, she may minister to man's pleasures and enjoy- ment, but for nature to be contemplated or loved apart by herself is quite alien to the average Greek mind. Love of Yet we must not infer from this that the Greeks failed the pic- iq appreciate the beauties and picturesqueness of nature — among the ^ view maintained by Cope and others. On the contrary, Greeks, the very forms w^ith which Greek fancy peopled rivers, ^ The Mountains of California, Century Co., 1895. ' Walker : The Greater Victorian Poets, p. 211. (London, 189o.) woods and mountains, testify plainly to the emotions, the admiration and veneration with which this people observed the many varied phenomena of natural objects and forces. Gibbon has observed that their language gave a soul to the objects of sense. And herein lies the main reason why we ' have so little description of nature's varied scenes in Greek literature. When the Greek viewed a rapid torrent, a grove of trees or a line of high cliffs, his imagination saw behind these objects an animate, divine spirit, though the river itself, the grove and the cliffs were nothing but dead, inanimate bodies. Now, being eminently sensible, he bestowed the love and worship, which we give to nature herself, not upon the lifeless bodies of material things, but upon the spiritual powers which made them their homes. When the sunbeams dart across the crest of Parnassus, it is Dionysus who " with pine-torch bounds o'er the twin- peaked height, tossing and shaking his Bacchic wand ; " ^ and when the Grecian maidens in exile in a barbarian land sigh for a return to their happy homes, they do not yearn for their native hills,and trees, and lakes, but for " Artemis, the blest, who dwells by the Cynthian hill and the palm of dainty leafage, the sprouting laurel and holy shoot of pale olive, and the lake that rolls its circling waters." - The fact, however, remains that a people who had a Little genuine enthusiasm for beauty and a keen perception of ^^P^^^^^*'^ it, seldom gave expression in their literature to a love forj^^gj^ the beautiful in nature. Man was the subject of pre- their eminent interest — his form was the study of the sculptor ^i*^^**"*"®- and painter, and to his life and interests was their entire literature devoted. In the following beautiful passage, Euripides, though Love of giving expression to a love for nature, well shows its sub-"^|^^^^^, ordination to a love for humanity : " Wife, dear is this light ^^^g ^o' of the sun, and lovel}^ to the eye is the placid ocean-flood, love of and the earth in the bloom of spring, and wide-spreading "^*°- waters, and of many lovely sights might I speak the praises. But nought is so fair or lovely to behold, as for the childless and those consumed with longings, to see in their homes the light that new-born babes bring." ' Euripides, Bac. 306. ^ Euripides, Tph. Taur. 1097. Euripides, Fr. 316. FV*'' Of TiCI 10 CHAPTER 11. Aeschylus gl ESCHYLUS, the first of the great trio of Greek tragic poets, has left us many proofs of a warm love for nature. Yet it may not be unwise to approach the subject of our study on the negative side, for striking as is the positive evidence he aifords, we shall find that no less striking are the poet's reticence and reserve where modern feeling and taste would call for freedom of expression. Poverty of The Persce, which is one of the earliest extant plays^ of descrip- Aeschylus and is pervaded with a lyrical spirit, opens with element, a lengthy ode, in which the Persian elders recount the forces which took the field under Xerxes, In this cata- logue the utter absence of the descriptive element is to be noticed. It may, to be sure, be said that here the poet was dealing with a foreign land and with foreign scenes. And yet in the answer to Atossa's question,^ " Where is Athens ? " w^hat a good opportunity an Attic poet had of dwelling on the beauty and picturesque charms of his native city ? The reply, however, is as brief as the question. It is " far to the west, where sets the sun in his majesty." •' Sense of In their description of natural scenes, Greek writers often the utihty gggu^ ^q ^q struck with nothing more than a sense of the ' utility of nature. Though this sense need not be out of harmony with a higher interest in nature, it is in itself of a low aesthetic order, and were the Greeks, in dealing w^itli this outer world, to limit their appreciation to rich tilth and fructifying rivers, we should have excellent reason for denying that they possessed any love for the beauties of nature. In Aeschylus, descriptive epithets that refer to material wealth are very common. The Nile is dXcfyeatfioLov vSoop* iroXvOpifjLfiwv,^ and XeTrroyfrd/jiado^.^ The rivers of Argolis are XiTrapd,^ Dirce is evTpa(f>e(TTaTov Trayfjudroiv,^ and a river in the west 'xpvaoppvrov vdp,a? So Sardis and Babylon are 1 Produced B.C. 472. "^ Persae, 11. 231-2. •*' Similarly, in Cassandra's pathetic apostrophe of her native Scamander (Ag. 1157), we note the absence of all picturesque ornament. * Suppl. 855. ^ Pers. 33. « Suppl. 4. ^ Suppl. 1029. » Sept. 309. » Pr. 805. 11 7roXvxP^f^o^>^ Sicily is KaWUapiro^i,^ Argos ^advxOoDv^^ Phrygia /jLr}\6^oToo^,^ Cyprus ^advirXov- T09 ')(B(ov^ and iroXvirvpo^ ala, and Egypt ev6aXr)<;.'' A sense of pleasure in out-door life, at the most a cer- Sensuous tain exhilaration of feeling, is all that can fairly be inferred ^f "j^J^^^g * from numerous descriptive touches in the dramatists. Thus the frequent use of Xafxirpo^;, which Aeschylus applies to the sun, constellations, and once to wind ; XevKo^ and derivatives, of the day^ and water" ; (f)aiBp6<;, evc^e'^'yrj^ and similar expressions of brightness. With this elation is often combined a religious sense, as when the sky or rivers Religious or lands are termed a^vo^^^, or when the Nile sends forth sense. her aerrrrov evirorov peo^;^^, and its stream is voaoi^ adcKrov^-. So /epo? in (/)W9 lepou,^'^ tepa? vvkt6(;^\ lepov %6i}/Lta OaXdG(jrjv, dXao^ and aWrjp^^, As with the Greek poets from Homer down, the love for Love for nature in Aeschylus is usually subordinate to other inter- nature is ests. Nature furnishes illustrations and lessons for human ^®^®"*^ ^"^y* life and conduct. Hence the frequent analogies from the sea and sky, from wind and storm, from plant and animal lUustra- life. The largest number of such illustrations come from ?3?"\°f the sea, and the arts of sailing, steering and building ships, f^.^^^ Jj^^ " Metaphors," we are told, " reflect the life of a nation," and sea. the poetry of Aeschylus alone, apart from other evidence, would suffice to prove that the Athenians lived half their life upon the ocean wave." More striking and extended are such metaphors as we find in Gho. 390, " Before my heart's prow blows a storm of angry wrath and infuriate hate; " or Eum. 555, where the unjust man "will at last lower his sail perforce, when his yard-arm is shattered and trouble overtakes him. In the midst of the o'ermastering suroje he calls on those that listen not, but Heaven lauefhs at the headstrong man .... as he fails to weather the cape. This man wrecks forever his olden happiness on the reef of Justice, and dies unwept, unseen ; " or Sept 758, " Methinks 1 Pers. 45 and 53. ^ pj.. 359, 3 Sept. 304. * Suppl. 548. 5 Pers. 763. « Suppl. 555. '^ Fr. 300. 8 Pers. 301, 386 and Ag. 668. » Suppl. 24. ^0 Suppl. 254, Pers. 497, Pr. 281, 435. ^ Pr. 812. ^•' Suppl. 561. 1'' Eum. 1005. 1* Fr. 66. 15 Fr. 192. i« Suppl. 5, 558 and Pr. 88. ^' Cf. Sept. 2, 62, 208, 533, 761, 769, 849— Suppl. 165, 344, 440, 471, 767, 989, 1007.— Cho. 814.— Eum. 637.— Pers. 250.— Ag. 52, 236, 802, 897. See Biese, p. 37 ; Campbell's Sophocles I., p. 105. 12 a sea of evils rolls its waves, one falling and another ris- ing, triple-cleft, which clashes round our city's keel." The art of fishing furnishes two strong similes in Pers. 424 and Cho. 506. In the former the Persians are speared like tunny-fish, and in the latter children are said to preserve a man's fame after death, even as corks buoy up the net that is sunk in the sea. Another fine simile comes from diving.i lUustra- Most powerful is the metaphor for the murders that *J.°^^^^^'°"^ wreck the house of Agamemnon, taken from a rain that spheres, first drizzles, then descends in a flood.- The noise of war at the gates is like the pelting of stormy sleet,^ or a resist- less mountain torrent * ; the winds of the war-god rush in hurricane ^ ; tears are " thirsty driblets from a storm-flood, bursting the dykes,"^ and lo's confused and raving utter- ances are compared to a muddy river that rushes down to meet the clear sea- water.'' lUustra- Trees and plants, though frequently figuring in Aeschy- tions from j^s, are probably never introduced as matters of indepen- plants. dent interest. Nevertheless, may we not suppose that to the poet who noticed them so frequently, the}^ were a con- stant source of delight ?^ Athene, in her love for the citi- zens, is like a gardener who is a shepherd to his plants^ In man's old age, his foliage withers.^" There is a noble and extended metaphor from the vine in Ag. 966, though in the mouth of Clytaemnestra it is full of feigned emotion.^^ The horror of Clytaemnestra's tale of murder is enhanced by a grim comparison between the blood of the murdered man and " the gentle rain from heaven." " As he breathes out a rapid tide of blood, he casts on me a dark drop of gory dew, while I exult no less than doth the corn, when be- neath heaven's sweet rain the sheath bursts in labor."^- Nothing could express more forcibly the terrible earnest- ness with which the queen had looked forward to the deed. That a cruel murderess, gloating over her victim's blood, should dare to compare herself to the innocent corn, which rejoices in the quickening rain, indicates an utter absence of the sense of moral responsibility, and far from being 1 Suppl. 408. 2 Ag. 1533. *' Sept. 212. * Sept. 85. "^ Sept. 63. « Cho. 184. ' Pr. 885. ** In a line preserved from the Philoctetes (Fr. 251), Kpe/xdaaaa ro^oy ^irvos iK fjLeXavSpi'ov, a single epithet gives picturesque coloring. » Eum. 911. i« Ag. 79. ^^ See Biese, p. .39. ' 2 Ag. 1389. 18 " grotesk, ja das Mass des asthetisch Zulassigen liber- schreitend "^ is a wonderful stroke of genius. In a very poetical passage, Atossa enumerates the offer- ings she brings to the shade of Darius f " milk, sweet and white from a holy cow ; clearest of honey, that distils from the flower- working bee ; limpid waters from virgin foun- tain ; pure draught from a mother wild, the glory of the ancient vine ; with sweet fruit, too, of the yellow olive, that ever blooms in foliage, and twined flowers, the child- ren of all-bearing earth." We are told that here we have oriental imagery,'^ suited to the speaker, who is a Persian queen, and it may also be claimed that as the offerings are sacred there is a religious significance in the passage.* Yet surely we may also see in the description the poet's love for nature unadorned.^ No specific names of flowers are found in Aeschylus, Flowers in though avOo<; is common in a variety of metaphors. We ^^^^'^y" have " the flower of love ;"^ " the flower of youth uncropt " 7]l3a^ avdo^ ahpeirrov ;'' the best troops are " the flower of the Persian land ; "^ Cassandra is " a choice flower of abun- dant treasure," iroWcov '^pij/xdrcav i^aipSTov avdo^,^ and the flower of Prometheus is iravrexvov irvpo^ ae\a