Museum of Antiquity, by L. W. Yaggy and T. L. Haines

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MUSEUM

OF

ANTIQUITY

A DESCRIPTION OF

ANCIENT LIFE:

THE

EMPLOYMENTS, AMUSEMENTS, CUSTOMS AND HABITS,
THE CITIES, PALACES, MONUMENTS AND TOMBS,
THE LITERATURE AND FINE ARTS
OF 3,000 YEARS AGO.

BY

L.W. YAGGY, M.S.,
AND
T.L. HAINES, A.M.,

AUTHORS OF THE "ROYAL PATH OF LIFE,"
"OUR HOME COUNSELOR,"
"LITTLE GEMS."

ILLUSTRATED.

MADISON, WIS.:
J.B. FURMAN & CO.
WESTERN PUBLISHING HOUSE, CHICAGO, ILL.

1884.

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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1880 by
L.W. Yaggy & T.L. Haines,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D.C.

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[iii]

PREFACE.

Egypt, Greece and Italy were the fountain heads of our civilization and the source of our knowledge; to them we can trace, link by link, the origin of all that is ornamental, graceful and beautiful. It is therefore a matter of greatest interest to get an intimate knowledge of the original state, and former perfection, the grandeur, magnificence and high civilization of these countries, as well as of the homes, the private and domestic life, the schools, churches, rites, ceremonies, &c.

The many recent excavations in Troy, Nineveh, Babylon and the uncovering of the City of Pompeii, with its innumerable treasures, the unfolding of the long-hoarded secrets, have revealed information for volumes of matter. But works that treat on the various subjects of antiquity are, for the most part, not only costly and hard to procure, but also far too voluminous. The object of this work is to condense into the smallest possible compass the essence of information which usually runs through many volumes, and place it into a practical form for the common reader. We hope, however, that this work will give the reader a greater longing to extend his inquiries into these most interesting subjects, so rich in everything that can refine the taste, enlarge the understanding and improve the heart. It has been our object, so far as possible, to avoid every expression of opinion, whether our own or that of any school of thinkers, and to supply first, facts, and secondly, careful references by which the citations of those facts, may be verified, and the inferences from them traced by the reader himself, to their legitimate result.

Before we close, we would tender our greatest obligations to the English and German authors, from whom we have drawn abundantly in preparing this work; also to the Directors of the British Museum of London, and the Society of Antiquarians of Berlin, and especially to the authorities of the excavated City of Pompeii and its treasures in the Museum of Naples, where we were furnished with an intelligent guide and permitted to spend days in our researches. To each and all of these, who have so kindly promoted our labor, our heartfelt thanks are cordially returned.

Many of the engravings are from drawings made on the spot, but a greater number are from photographs, and executed with the greatest fidelity by German and French artists.

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[iv]

Steel Plate Engravings.

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[v]

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

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[ix]

ILLUSTRATIONS
BY GERMAN ARTISTS.

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[15]

Address to the Mummy.

Answer.

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[17]

POMPEII.ToC

Pompeii was in its full glory at the commencement of the Christian era. It was a city of wealth and refinement, with about 35,000 inhabitants, and beautifully located at the foot of Mount Vesuvius; it possessed all local advantages that the most refined taste could desire. Upon the verge of the sea, at the entrance of a fertile plain, on the bank of a navigable river, it united the conveniences of a commercial town with the security of a military station, and the romantic beauty of a spot celebrated in all ages for its pre-eminent loveliness. Its environs, even to the heights of Vesuvius, were covered with villas, and the coast, all the way to Naples, was so ornamented with gardens and villages, that the shores of the whole gulf appeared as one city.

[18]What an enchanting picture must have presented itself to one approaching Pompeii by sea! He beheld the bright, cheerful Grecian temples spreading out on the slopes before him; the pillared Forum; the rounded marble Theatres. He saw the grand Palaces descending to the very edge of the blue waves by noble flights of steps, surrounded with green pines, laurels and cypresses, from amidst whose dark foliage marble statues of gods gleamed whitely.

The skillful architect, the sculptors, the painters, and the casters of bronze were all employed to make Pompeii an asylum of arts; all trades and callings endeavored to grace and beautify the city. The prodigious concourse of strangers who came here in search of health and recreation added new charms and life to the scene.

But behind all this, and encased as it were in a frame, the landscape rose in a gentle slope to the summit of the thundering mountain. But indications were not wanting of the peril with which the city was threatened. The whole district is volcanic; and a few years before the final catastrophe, an earthquake had shaken Pompeii to its foundations; some of the buildings were much injured. On August 24, A.D. 79, the inhabitants were busily engaged in repairing the damage thus wrought, when suddenly and without any previous warning a vast column of black smoke burst from the overhanging mountain. Rising to a prodigious height in the cloudless summer sky, it then gradually spread out like the head of some mighty Italian pine, hiding the sun, and overshadowing the earth for miles in distance.

The darkness grew into profound night, only broken by the blue and sulphurous flashes which darted from the pitchy cloud. Soon the thick rain of thin, light ashes, almost imperceptible to the touch, fell upon the land. Then quickly succeeded shower of small pumice stones and heavier ashes, and emitting stifling eruptic fumes. After a time the sounds of approaching torrent [19]were heard, and soon streaming rivers of dense black mud poured slowly but irresistibly down the mountain sides, and circled through the streets, insidiously creeping into such recesses as even the subtle ashes had failed to penetrate. There was now no place of shelter left. No man could defend himself against this double enemy. It was too late for flight for such as had remained behind. Those who had taken refuge in the innermost parts of the houses, or in the subterranean passages, were closed up forever. Those who sought to flee through the streets were clogged by the small, loose pumice stones, which lay many feet deep, or were entangled and overwhelmed in the mud-streams, or were struck down by the rocks which fell from the heavens. If they escaped these dangers, blinded by the drifting ashes and groping in the dark, not knowing which way to go, they were overcome by the sulphurous vapors, and sinking on the highway were soon buried beneath the volcanic matter. Even many who had gained the open country, at the beginning of the eruption, were overtaken by the darkness and falling cinders, and perished miserably in the field or on the sea-shore, where they had vainly sought the means of flight.

In three days the doomed city had disappeared. It lay buried beneath a vast mass of ashes, pumice stone and hardened mud, from twenty to seventy feet deep. Those of its terror-stricken inhabitants who escaped destruction, abandoned forever its desolate site. Years, generations, centuries went by, and the existence of Pompeii—yea, even its very name—had ceased to be remembered. The rich volcanic soil became covered with a profusion of vegetation. Vineyards flourished and houses were built on the site of the buried city.

Nearly eighteen hundred years had elapsed since the thunderer Vesuvius had thrown the black mantle of ashes over the fair city before the resuscitation arrived. Some antique bronzes and utensils, discovered by a peasant, excited universal attention. [20]Excavations were begun, and Pompeii, shaking off as it were her musty grave clothes, stared from the classic and poetical age of the first into the prosaic modern world of the nineteenth century. The world was startled, and looked with wondering interest to see this ancient stranger arising from her tomb—to behold the awakening of the remote past from the womb of the earth which had so long hoarded it.

The excavation has been assiduously prosecuted, until to-day three hundred and sixty houses, temples, theatres, schools, stores, factories, etc., have been thrown open before us with their treasured contents. It is often, but erroneously, supposed that Pompeii, like Herculaneum, was overwhelmed by a flood of lava. Had this been the case, the work of excavation would have been immensely more difficult, and the result would have been far less important. The marbles must have been calcined, the bronzes melted, the frescoes effaced, and smaller articles destroyed by the fiery flood. The ruin was effected by showers of dust and scoriæ, and by torrents of liquid mud, which formed a mould, encasing the objects, thus preserving them from injury or decay. We thus gain a perfect picture of what a Roman city was eighteen hundred years ago, as everything is laid bare to us in almost a perfect state.

What wealth of splendid vessels and utensils was contained in the chests and closets! Gold and gilded ivory, pearls and precious stones were used to decorate tables, chairs and vessels for eating and drinking. Elegant lamps hung from the ceiling, and candelabra and little lamps of most exquisite shapes illuminated the apartments at night. To-day, looking at the walls, the eyes may feast on beautiful fresco paintings, with colors so vivid and fresh as if painted but yesterday; while gleaming everywhere on ceiling, wall and floor, are marbles of rarest hue, sculptured into every conceivable form of grace and beauty, and inlaid in most artistic designs.

[21]

Entering Pompeii.

We will now proceed to describe the general aspect of the city, and for this purpose it will be convenient to suppose that we have entered it by the gate of Herculaneum, though in other respects the Porta della Marina is the more usual and, perhaps, the best entrance.

On entering, the visitor finds himself in a street, running a little east of south, which leads to the Forum. To the right, stands a house formerly owned by a musician; to the left, a thermopolium or shop for hot drinks; beyond is the house of the Vestals; beyond this the custom-house; and a little further on, where another street runs into this one from the north at a very acute angle, stands a public fountain. In the last-named street is a surgeon's house; at least one so named from the quantity of surgical instruments found in it, all made of bronze. On the right or western side of the street, by which we entered, the houses, as we have said, are built on the declivity of a rock, and are several stories high.

The fountain is about one hundred and fifty yards from the city gate. About the same distance, further on, the street divides into two; the right-hand turning seems a by-street, the left-hand turning conducts you to the Forum. The most important feature in this space is a house called the house of Sallust or of Actæon, from a painting in it representing that hunter's death. It stands on an area about forty yards square, and is encompassed on three sides by streets; by that namely which we have been describing, by another nearly parallel to it, and by a third, perpendicular to these two. The whole quarter at present excavated, as far as the Street of the Baths, continued by the Street of Fortune, is divided, by six longitudinal and one transverse street, into what the Romans called islands, or insulated masses [22]of houses. Two of these are entirely occupied by the houses of Pansa and of the Faun, which, with their courts and gardens, are about one hundred yards long by forty wide.

From the Street of the Baths and that of Fortune, which bound these islands on the south, two streets lead to the two corners of the Forum; between them are baths, occupying nearly the whole island. Among other buildings are a milk-shop and gladiatorial school. At the northeast corner of the Forum was a triumphal arch. At the end of the Street of the Baths and beginning of that of Fortune, another triumphal arch is still to be made out, spanning the street of Mercury, so that this was plainly the way of state into the city. The Forum is distant from the gate of Herculaneum about four hundred yards. Of it we shall give a full description in its place. Near the south-eastern corner two streets enter it, one running to the south, the other to the east. We will follow the former for about eighty yards, when it turns eastward for two hundred yards, and conducts us to the quarter of the theatres. The other street, which runs eastward from the Forum, is of more importance, and is called the Street of the Silversmiths;[1] at the end of which a short street turns southwards, and meets the other route to the theatres. On both these routes the houses immediately bordering on the streets are cleared; but between them is a large rectangular plot of unexplored ground. Two very elegant houses at the southwest corner of the Forum were uncovered by the French general Championnet, while in command at Naples, and are known by his name. On the western side of the Forum two streets led down towards the sea; the excavations here consist almost entirely of public buildings, which will be described hereafter.

The quarter of the theatres comprises a large temple, called the Temple of Neptune or Hercules, a temple of Isis, a temple [23]of Æsculapius, two theatres, the Triangular Forum, and the quarters of the soldiers or gladiators. On the north and east it is bounded by streets; to the south and west it seems to have been enclosed partly by the town walls, partly by its own. Here the continuous excavation ends, and we must cross vineyards to [24]the amphitheatre, about five hundred and fifty yards distant from the theatre, in the southeast corner of the city, close to the walls, and in an angle formed by them. Close to the amphitheatre are traces of walls supposed to have belonged to a Forum Boarium, or cattle market. Near at hand, a considerable building, called the villa of Julia Felix, has been excavated and filled up again. On the walls of it was discovered the following inscription, which may serve to convey an idea of the wealth of some of the Pompeian proprietors:

In Praedis Julle Sp F. Felicis
Locantur
Balneum Venerium Et Nongentum Tabernæ Pergulæ
Cœnacula Ex Idibus Aug Primis
In Idus Aug. Sextas Annos Continuos Quinque
S. Q. D. L. E. N. C.

That is: "On the estate of Julia Felix, daughter of Spurius, are to be let a bath, a venereum, nine hundred shops, with booths and garrets, for a term of five continuous years, from the first to the sixth of the Ides of August." The formula, S. Q. D. L. E. N. C., with which the advertisement concludes, is thought to stand for—si quis domi lenocinium exerceat ne conducito: "let no one apply who keeps a brothel."

A little to the south of the smaller theatre was discovered, in 1851, the Gate of Stabiæ. Hence a long straight street, which has been called the Street of Stabiæ, traversed the whole breadth of the city, till it issued out on the northern side at the gate of Vesuvius. It has been cleared to the point where it intersects the Streets of Fortune and of Nola, which, with the Street of the Baths, traverse the city in its length. The Street of Stabiæ forms the boundary of the excavations; all that part of Pompeii which lies to the east of it, with the exception of the amphitheatre, and the line forming the Street of Nola, being still occupied by vineyards and cultivated fields. On the other hand, that part [25]of the city lying to the west of it has been for the most part disinterred; though there are still some portions lying to the south and west of the Street of Abundance and the Forum, and to the east of the Vico Storto, which remain to be excavated.

The streets of Pompeii are paved with large irregular pieces of lava joined neatly together, in which the chariot wheels have worn ruts, still discernible; in some places they are an inch and a half deep, and in the narrow streets follow one track; where the streets are wider, the ruts are more numerous and irregular. The width of the streets varies from eight or nine feet to about twenty-two, including the footpaths or trottoirs. In many places they are so narrow that they may be crossed at one stride; where they are wider, a raised stepping-stone, and sometimes two or three, have been placed in the centre of the crossing. These stones, though in the middle of the carriage way, did not much inconvenience those who drove about in the biga, or two-horsed chariot, as the wheels passed freely in the spaces left, while the horses, being loosely harnessed, might either have stepped over the stones or passed by the sides. The curb-stones are elevated from one foot to eighteen inches, and separate the foot-pavement from the road. Throughout the city there is hardly a street unfurnished with this convenience. Where there is width to admit of a broad foot-path, the interval between the curb and the line of building is filled up with earth, which has then been covered over with stucco, and sometimes with a coarse mosaic of brickwork. Here and there traces of this sort of pavement still remain, especially in those streets which were protected by porticoes.

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[26]

Arrangement of Private Houses.

We will now give an account of some of the most remarkable private houses which have been disinterred; of the paintings, domestic utensils, and other articles found in them; and such information upon the domestic manners of the ancient Italians as may seem requisite to the illustration of these remains. This branch of our subject is not less interesting, nor less extensive than the other. Temples and theatres, in equal preservation, and of greater splendor than those at Pompeii, may be seen in many places; but towards acquainting us with the habitations, the private luxuries and elegancies of ancient life, not all the scattered fragments of domestic architecture which exist elsewhere have done so much as this city, with its fellow-sufferer, Herculaneum.

Towards the last years of the republic, the Romans naturalized the arts of Greece among themselves; and Grecian architecture came into fashion at Rome, as we may learn, among other sources, from the letters of Cicero to Atticus, which bear constant testimony to the strong interest which he took in ornamenting his several houses, and mention Cyrus, his Greek architect. At this time immense fortunes were easily made from the spoils of new conquests, or by peculation and maladministration of subject provinces, and the money thus ill and easily acquired was squandered in the most lavish luxury. One favorite mode of indulgence was in splendor of building. Lucius Cassius was the first who ornamented his house with columns of foreign marble; they were only six in number, and twelve feet high. He was [27]soon surpassed by Scaurus, who placed in his house columns of the black marble called Lucullian, thirty-eight feet high, and of such vast and unusual weight that the superintendent of sewers, as we are told by Pliny,[2] took security for any injury which might happen to the works under his charge, before they were suffered to be conveyed along the streets. Another prodigal, by name Mamurra, set the example of lining his rooms with slabs of marble. The best estimate, however, of the growth of architectural luxury about this time may be found in what we are told by Pliny, that, in the year of Rome 676, the house of Lepidus was the finest in the city, and thirty-five years later it was not the hundredth.[3] We may mention, as an example of the lavish expenditure of the Romans, that Domitius Ahenobarbus offered for the house of Crassus a sum amounting to near $242,500, which was refused by the owner.[4] Nor were they less extravagant in their country houses. We may again quote Cicero, whose attachment to his Tusculan and Formian villas, and interest in ornamenting them, even in the most perilous times, is well known. Still more celebrated are the villas of Lucullus and Pollio; of the latter some remains are still to be seen near Pausilipo.

Augustus endeavored by his example to check this extravagant passion, but he produced little effect. And in the palaces of the emperors, and especially the Aurea Domus, the Golden House of Nero, the domestic architecture of Rome, or, we might probably say, of the world, reached its extreme.

The arrangement of the houses, though varied, of course, by local circumstances, and according to the rank and circumstances of the master, was pretty generally the same in all. The principal rooms, differing only in size and ornament, recur everywhere; those supplemental ones, which were invented only for convenience or luxury, vary according to the tastes and circumstances of the master.

[28]

The private part comprised the peristyle, bed-chambers, triclinium, œci, picture-gallery, library, baths, exedra, xystus, etc. We proceed to explain the meaning of these terms.

Before great mansions there was generally a court or area, upon which the portico opened, either surrounding three sides of the area, or merely running along the front of the house. In smaller houses the portico ranged even with the street. Within the portico, or if there was no portico, opening directly to the street, was the vestibule, consisting of one or more spacious apartments. It was considered to be without the house, and was always open for the reception of those who came to wait there until the doors should be opened. The prothyrum, in Greek architecture, was the same as the vestibule. In Roman architecture, it was a passage-room, between the outer or house-door which opened to the vestibule, and an inner door which closed the entrance of the atrium. In the vestibule, or in an apartment opening upon it, the porter, ostiarius, usually had his seat.

The atrium, or cavædium, for they appear to have signified the same thing, was the most important, and usually the most splendid apartment of the house. Here the owner received his crowd of morning visitors, who were not admitted to the inner apartments. The term is thus explained by Varro: "The hollow of the house (cavum ædium) is a covered place within the walls, left open to the common use of all. It is called Tuscan, from the Tuscans, after the Romans began to imitate their [29]cavædium. The word atrium is derived from the Atriates, a people of Tuscany, from whom the pattern of it was taken." Originally, then, the atrium was the common room of resort for the whole family, the place of their domestic occupations; and such it probably continued in the humbler ranks of life. A general description of it may easily be given. It was a large apartment, roofed over, but with an opening in the centre, called compluvium, towards which the roof sloped, so as to throw the rain-water into a cistern in the floor called impluvium.

The roof around the compluvium was edged with a row of highly ornamented tiles, called antefixes, on which a mask or some other figure was moulded. At the corners there were usually spouts, in the form of lions' or dogs' heads, or any fantastical device which the architect might fancy, which carried the rain-water clear out into the impluvium, whence it passed into cisterns; from which again it was drawn for household purposes. For drinking, river-water, and still more, well-water, was preferred. Often the atrium was adorned with fountains, supplied through leaden or earthenware pipes, from aqueducts or other raised heads of water; for the Romans knew the property of fluids, which causes them to stand at the same height in communicating vessels. This is distinctly recognized by Pliny,[5] though their common use of aqueducts, in preference to pipes, has led to a supposition that this great hydrostatical principle was unknown to them. The breadth of the impluvium, according to Vitruvius, was not less than a quarter, nor greater than a third, of the whole breadth of the atrium; its length was regulated by the same standard. The opening above it was often shaded by a colored veil, which diffused a softened light, and moderated the intense heat of an Italian sun.[6] The splendid columns of the house of [30]Scaurus, at Rome, were placed, as we learn from Pliny,[7] in the atrium of his house. The walls were painted with landscapes or arabesques—a practice introduced about the time of Augustus—or lined with slabs of foreign and costly marbles, of which the Romans were passionately fond. The pavement was composed of the same precious material, or of still more valuable mosaics.

The tablinum was an appendage of the atrium, and usually entirely open to it. It contained, as its name imports,[8] the family archives, the statues, pictures, genealogical tables, and other relics of a long line of ancestors.

Alæ, wings, were similar but smaller apartments, or rather recesses, on each side of the further part of the atrium. Fauces, jaws, were passages, more especially those which passed to the interior of the house from the atrium.

[31]In houses of small extent, strangers were lodged in chambers which surrounded and opened into the atrium. The great, whose connections spread into the provinces, and who were visited by numbers who, on coming to Rome, expected to profit by their hospitality, had usually a hospitium, or place of reception for strangers, either separate, or among the dependencies of their palaces.

Of the private apartments the first to be mentioned is the peristyle, which usually lay behind the atrium, and communicated with it both through the tablinum and by fauces. In its general plan it resembled the atrium, being in fact a court, open to the sky in the middle, and surrounded by a colonnade, but it was larger in its dimensions, and the centre court was often decorated with shrubs and flowers and fountains, and was then called xystus. It should be greater in extent when measured transversely than in length,[9] and the intercolumniations should not exceed four, nor fall short of three diameters of the columns.

Of the arrangement of the bed-chambers we know little. They seem to have been small and inconvenient. When there was room they had usually a procœton, or ante-chamber. Vitruvius recommends that they should face the east, for the benefit of the early sun. One of the most important apartments in the whole house was the triclinium, or dining-room, so named from the three beds, which encompassed the table on three sides, leaving the fourth open to the attendants. The prodigality of the Romans in matters of eating is well known, and it extended to all matters connected with the pleasures of the table. In their rooms, their couches, and all the furniture of their entertainments, magnificence and extravagance were carried to their highest point. The rich had several of these apartments, to be used at different seasons, or on various occasions. Lucullus, celebrated for his wealth and profuse expenditure, had a certain [32]standard of expenditure for each triclinium, so that when his servants were told which hall he was to sup in, they knew exactly the style of entertainment to be prepared; and there is a well-known story of the way in which he deceived Pompey and Cicero, when they insisted on going home with him to see his family supper, by merely sending word home that he would sup in the Apollo, one of the most splendid of his halls, in which he never gave an entertainment for less than 50,000 denarii, about $8,000. Sometimes the ceiling was contrived to open and let down a second course of meats, with showers of flowers and perfumed waters, while rope-dancers performed their evolutions over the heads of the company. The performances of these funambuli are frequently represented in paintings at Pompeii. Mazois, in his work entitled "Le Palais de Scaurus," has given a fancy picture of the habitation of a Roman noble of the highest class, in which he has embodied all the scattered notices of domestic life, which a diligent perusal of the Latin writers has enabled him to collect. His description of the triclinium of Scaurus will give the reader the best notion of the style in which such an apartment was furnished and ornamented. For each particular in the description he quotes some authority. We shall not, however, encumber our pages with references to a long list of books not likely to be in the possession of most readers.

"Bronze lamps,[10] dependent from chains of the same metal, or raised on richly-wrought candelabra, threw around the room a brilliant light. Slaves set apart for this service watched them, trimmed the wicks, and from time to time supplied them with oil.

"The triclinium is twice as long as it is broad, and divided, as it were, into two parts—the upper occupied by the table and the couches, the lower left empty for the convenience of the attendants and spectators. Around the former the walls, up to [33]a certain height, are ornamented with valuable hangings. The decorations of the rest of the room are noble, and yet appropriate to its destination; garlands, entwined with ivy and vine-branches, divide the walls into compartments bordered with fanciful ornaments; in the centre of each of which are painted with admirable elegance young Fauns, or half-naked Bacchantes, carrying thyrsi, vases and all the furniture of festive meetings. Above the columns is a large frieze, divided into twelve compartments; each of these is surmounted by one of the signs of the Zodiac, and contains paintings of the meats which are in highest season in each month; so that under Sagittary (December), we see shrimps, shell-fish, and birds of passage; under Capricorn (January), lobsters, sea-fish, wild-boar and game; under Aquarius (February), ducks, plovers, pigeons, water-rails, etc.

"The table, made of citron wood[11] from the extremity of Mauritania, more precious than gold, rested upon ivory feet, and was covered by a plateau of massive silver, chased and carved, weighing five hundred pounds. The couches, which would contain thirty persons, were made of bronze overlaid with ornaments in silver, gold and tortoise-shell; the mattresses of Gallic wool, [34]dyed purple; the valuable cushions, stuffed with feathers, were covered with stuffs woven and embroidered with silk mixed with threads of gold. Chrysippus told us that they were made at Babylon, and had cost four millions of sesterces.[12]

"The mosaic pavement, by a singular caprice of the architect, represented all the fragments of a feast, as if they had fallen in common course on the floor; so that at the first glance the room seemed not to have been swept since the last meal, and it was called from hence, asarotos oikos, the unswept saloon. At the bottom of the hall were set out vases of Corinthian brass. This triclinium, the largest of four in the palace of Scaurus, would easily contain a table of sixty covers;[13] but he seldom brings together so large a number of guests, and when on great occasions he entertains four or five hundred persons, it is usually in the atrium. This eating-room is reserved for summer; he has others for spring, autumn, and winter, for the Romans turn the change of season into a source of luxury. His establishment is so appointed that for each triclinium he has a great number of tables of different sorts, and each table has its own service and its particular attendants.

"While waiting for their masters, young slaves strewed over the pavement saw-dust dyed with saffron and vermilion, mixed with a brilliant powder made from the lapis specularis, or talc."

Pinacotheca, the picture-gallery, and Bibliotheca, the library, need no explanation. The latter was usually small, as a large number of rolls (volumina) could be contained within a narrow space.

Exedra bore a double signification. It is either a seat, intended to contain a number of persons, like those before the Gate [35]of Herculaneum, or a spacious hall for conversation and the general purposes of society. In the public baths, the word is especially applied to those apartments which were frequented by the philosophers.

Such was the arrangement, such the chief apartments of a Roman house; they were on the ground-floor, the upper stories being for the most part left to the occupation of slaves, freedmen, and the lower branches of the family. We must except, however, the terrace upon the top of all (solarium), a favorite place of resort, often adorned with rare flowers and shrubs, planted in huge cases of earth, and with fountains and trellises, under which the evening meal might at pleasure be taken.

The reader will not, of course, suppose that in all houses all these apartments were to be found, and in the same order. From the confined dwelling of the tradesman to the palace of the patrician, all degrees of accommodation and elegance were to be found. The only object of this long catalogue is to familiarize the reader with the general type of those objects which we are about to present to him, and to explain at once, and collectively, those terms of art which will be of most frequent occurrence.

The reader will gain a clear idea of a Roman house from the ground-plan of that of Diomedes, given a little further on, which is one of the largest and most regularly constructed at Pompeii.

We may here add a few observations, derived, as well as much of the preceding matter, from the valuable work of Mazois, relative to the materials and method of construction of the Pompeian houses. Every species of masonry described by Vitruvius, it is said, may here be met with; but the cheapest and most durable sorts have been generally preferred.

Copper, iron, lead, have been found employed for the same purposes as those for which we now use them. Iron is more plentiful than copper, contrary to what is generally observed in [36]ancient works. It is evident from articles of furniture, etc., found in the ruins, that the Italians were highly skilled in the art of working metals, yet they seem to have excelled in ornamental work, rather than in the solid and neat construction of useful articles. For instance, their lock-work is coarse, hardly equal to that which is now executed in the same country; while the external ornaments of doors, bolts, handles, etc., are elegantly wrought.

The first private house that we will describe is found by passing down a street from the Street of Abundance. The visitor finds on the right, just beyond the back wall of the Thermæ Stabianæ, the entrance of a handsome dwelling. An inscription in red letters on the outside wall containing the name of Siricus has occasioned the conjecture that this was the name of the owner of the house; while a mosaic inscription on the floor of the prothyrum, having the words Salve Lucru, has given rise to a second appellation for the dwelling.

On the left of the prothyrum is an apartment with two doors, one opening on a wooden staircase leading to an upper floor, the other forming the entry to a room next the street, with a window like that described in the other room next the prothyrum. The walls of this chamber are white, divided by red and yellow zones into compartments, in which are depicted the symbols of the principal deities—as the eagle and globe of Jove, the peacock of Juno, the lance, helmet and shield of Minerva, the panther of Bacchus, a Sphinx, having near it the mystical chest and sistrum of Isis, who was the Venus Physica of the Pompeians, the caduceus and other emblems of Mercury, etc. There are also two small landscapes.

Next to this is a large and handsome exedra, decorated with good pictures, a third of the size of life. That on the left represents Neptune and Apollo presiding at the building of Troy; the former, armed with his trident, is seated; the latter, crowned [37]with laurel, is on foot, and leans with his right arm on a lyre. On the wall opposite to this is a picture of Vulcan presenting the arms of Achilles to Thetis. The celebrated shield is supported by Vulcan on the anvil, and displayed to Thetis, who is seated, whilst a winged female figure standing at her side points out to her with a rod the marvels of its workmanship. Agreeably to the Homeric description the shield is encircled with the signs of the zodiac, and in the middle are the bear, the dragon, etc. On the ground are the breast-plate, the greaves and the helmet.

In the third picture is seen Hercules crowned with ivy, inebriated, and lying on the ground at the foot of a cypress tree. [38]He is clothed in a sandyx, or short transparent tunic, and has on his feet a sort of shoes, one of which he has kicked off. He supports himself on his left arm, while the right is raised in drunken ecstasy. A little Cupid plucks at his garland of ivy, another tries to drag away his ample goblet. In the middle of the picture is an altar with festoons. On the top of it three Cupids, assisted by another who has climbed up the tree, endeavor to bear on their shoulders the hero's quiver; while on the ground, to the left of the altar, four other Cupids are sporting with his club. A votive tablet with an image of Bacchus rests at the foot of the altar, and indicates the god to whom Hercules has been sacrificing.

On the left of the picture, on a little eminence, is a group of three females round a column having on its top a vase. The chief and central figure, which is naked to the waist, has in her hand a fan; she seems to look with interest on the drunken hero, but whom she represents it is difficult to say. On the right, half way up a mountain, sits Bacchus, looking on the scene with a complacency not unmixed with surprise. He is surrounded by his usual rout of attendants, one of whom bears a thyrsus. The annexed engraving will convey a clearer idea of the picture, which for grace, grandeur of composition, and delicacy and freshness of coloring, is among the best discovered at Pompeii. The exedra is also adorned with many other paintings and ornaments which it would be too long to describe.

On the same side of the atrium, beyond a passage leading to a kitchen with an oven, is an elegant triclinium fenestratum looking upon an adjacent garden. The walls are black, divided by red and yellow zones, with candelabra and architectural members intermixed with quadrupeds, birds, dolphins, Tritons, masks, etc., and in the middle of each compartment is a Bacchante. In each wall are three small paintings executed with greater care. [39]The first, which has been removed, represented Æneas in his tent, who, accompanied by Mnestheus, Achates, and young Ascanius, presents his thigh to the surgeon, Iapis, in order to extract from it the barb of an arrow. Æneas supports himself with the lance in his right hand, and leans with the other on the shoulder of his son, who, overcome by his father's misfortune, wipes the tears from his eyes with the hem of his robe; while Iapis, kneeling on one leg before the hero, is intent on extracting the barb with his forceps. But the wound is not to be healed without divine interposition. In the background of the picture Venus is hastening to her son's relief, bearing in her hand the branch of dictamnus, which is to restore him to his pristine vigor.

The subject of the second picture, which is much damaged, is not easy to be explained. It represents a naked hero, armed with sword and spear, to whom a woman crowned with laurel and clothed in an ample peplum is pointing out another female figure. The latter expresses by her gestures her grief and indignation at the warrior's departure, the imminence of which is signified by the chariot that awaits him. Signor Fiorelli thinks he recognizes in this picture Turnus, Lavinia, and Amata, when the queen supplicates Turnus not to fight with the Trojans.

The third painting represents Hermaphroditus surrounded by six nymphs, variously employed.

From the atrium a narrow fauces or corridor led into the garden. Three steps on the left connected this part of the house with the other and more magnificent portion having its entrance from the Strada Stabiana. The garden was surrounded on two sides with a portico, on the right of which are some apartments which do not require particular notice.

The house entered at a higher level, by the three steps just mentioned, was at first considered as a separate house, and by Fiorelli has been called the House of the Russian Princes, from some excavations made here in 1851 in presence of the sons [40]of the Emperor of Russia. The peculiarities observable in this house are that the atrium and peristyle are broader than they are deep, and that they are not separated by a tablinum and other rooms, but simply by a wall. In the centre of the Tuscan atrium, entered from the Street of Stabiæ, is a handsome marble impluvium. At the top of it is a square cippus, coated with marble, and having a leaden pipe which flung the water into a square vase or basin supported by a little base of white marble, ornamented with acanthus leaves. Beside the fountain is a table of the same material, supported by two legs beautifully sculptured, of a chimæra and a griffin. On this table was a little bronze group of Hercules armed with his club, and a young Phrygian kneeling before him.

From the atrium the peristyle is entered by a large door. It is about forty-six feet broad and thirty-six deep, and has ten columns, one of which still sustains a fragment of the entablature. The walls were painted in red and yellow panels alternately, with figures of Latona, Diana, Bacchantes, etc. At the bottom of the peristyle, on the right, is a triclinium. In the middle is a small œcus, with two pillars richly ornamented with arabesques. A little apartment on the left has several pictures.

In this house, at a height of seventeen Neapolitan palms (nearly fifteen feet) from the level of the ground, were discovered four skeletons together in an almost vertical position. Twelve palms lower was another skeleton, with a hatchet near it. This man appears to have pierced the wall of one of the small chambers of the prothyrum, and was about to enter it, when he was smothered, either by the falling in of the earth or by the mephitic exhalations. It has been thought that these persons perished while engaged in searching for valuables after the catastrophe.

In the back room of a thermopolium not far from this spot was discovered a graffito of part of the first line of the Æneid, in which the rs were turned into ls:

Alma vilumque cano Tlo.

[41]We will now return to the house of Siricus. Contiguous to it in the Via del Lupanare is a building having two doors separated with pilasters. By way of sign, an elephant was painted on the wall, enveloped by a large serpent and tended by a pigmy. Above was the inscription: Sittius restituit elephantum; and beneath the following:

Hospitium hic locatur
Triclinium cum tribus lectis
Et comm.

Both the painting and the inscription have now disappeared. The discovery is curious, as proving that the ancients used signs for their taverns. Orelli has given in his Inscriptions in Gaul, one of a Cock (a Gallo Gallinacio). In that at Pompeii the last word stands for "commodis." "Here is a triclinium with three beds and other conveniences."

Just opposite the gate of Siricus was another house also supposed to be a caupona, or tavern, from some chequers painted on the door posts. On the wall are depicted two large serpents, the emblem so frequently met with. They were the symbols of the Lares viales, or compitales, and, as we have said, rendered the place sacred against the commission of any nuisance. The cross, which is sometimes seen on the walls of houses in a modern Italian city, serves the same purpose. Above the serpents is the following inscription, in tolerably large white characters: Otiosis locus hic non est, discede morator. "Lingerer, depart; this is no place for idlers." An injunction by the way which seems rather to militate against the idea of the house having been a tavern.

The inscription just mentioned suggests an opportunity for giving a short account of similar ones; we speak not of inscriptions cut in stone, and affixed to temples and other public buildings, but such as were either painted, scrawled in charcoal and other substances, or scratched with a sharp point, such as a nail [42]or knife, on the stucco of walls and pillars. Such inscriptions afford us a peep both into the public and the domestic life of the Pompeians. Advertisements of a political character were commonly painted on the exterior walls in large letters in black and red paint; poetical effusions or pasquinades, etc., with coal or chalk (Martial, Epig. xii. 61, 9); while notices of a domestic kind are more usually found in the interior of the houses, scratched, as we have said, on the stucco, whence they have been called graffiti.

The numerous political inscriptions bear testimony to the activity of public life in Pompeii. These advertisements, which for the most part turn on the election of ædiles, duumvirs, and other magistrates, show that the Pompeians, at the time when their city was destroyed, were in all the excitement of the approaching comitia for the election of such magistrates. We shall here select a few of the more interesting inscriptions, both relating to public and domestic matters.

It seems to have been customary to paint over old advertisements with a coat of white, and so to obtain a fresh surface for new ones, just as the bill-sticker remorselessly pastes his bill over that of some brother of the brush. In some cases this new coating has been detached, or has fallen off, thus revealing an older notice, belonging sometimes to a period antecedent to the Social War. Inscriptions of this kind are found only on the solid stone pillars of the more ancient buildings, and not on the stucco, with which at a later period almost everything was plastered. Their antiquity is further certified by some of them being in the Oscan dialect; while those in Latin are distinguished from more recent ones in the same language by the forms of the letters, by the names which appear in them, and by archaisms in grammar and orthography. Inscriptions in the Greek tongue are rare, though the letters of the Greek alphabet, scratched on walls at a little height from the ground, and thus evidently the work of [43]school-boys, show that Greek must have been extensively taught at Pompeii.

The normal form of electioneering advertisements contains the name of the person recommended, the office for which he is a candidate, and the name of the person, or persons, who recommended him, accompanied in general with the formula O. V. F. From examples written in full, recently discovered, it appears that these letters mean orat (or orant) vos faciatis: "beseech you to create" (ædile and so forth). The letters in question were, before this discovery, very often thought to stand for orat ut faveat, "begs him to favor;" and thus the meaning of the inscription was entirely reversed, and the person recommending converted into the person recommended. In the following example for instance—M. Holconium Priscum duumvirum juri dicundo O. V. F. Philippus; the meaning, according to the older interpretation, will be: "Philippus beseeches M. Holconius Priscus, duumvir of justice, to favor or patronize him;" whereas the true sense is: "Philippus beseeches you to create M. Holconius Priscus a duumvir of justice." From this misinterpretation wrong names have frequently been given to houses; as is probably the case, for instance, with the house of Pansa, which, from the tenor of the inscription, more probably belonged to Paratus, who posted on his own walls a request to passers-by to make his friend Pansa ædile. Had it been the house of Pansa, when a candidate for the ædileship, and if it was the custom for such candidates to post recommendatory notices on their doors, it may be supposed that Pansa would have exhibited more than this single one from a solitary friend. This is a more probable meaning than that Paratus solicited in this way the patronage of Pansa; for it would have been a bad method to gain it by disfiguring his walls in so impertinent a manner. We do not indeed mean to deny that adulatory inscriptions were sometimes written on the houses or doors of powerful or popular men or pretty women. A verse of [44]Plautus bears testimony to such a custom (Impleantur meæ foreis elogiorum carbonibus. Mercator, act ii. sc. 3). But first, the inscription on the so-called house of Pansa was evidently not of an adulatory, but of a recommendatory character; and secondly, those of the former kind, as we learn from this same verse, seem to have been written by passing admirers, with some material ready to the hand, such as charcoal or the like, and not painted on the walls with care, and time, and expense; a proceeding which we can hardly think the owner of the house, if he was a modest and sensible man, would have tolerated.

Recommendations of candidates were often accompanied with a word or two in their praise; as dignus, or dignissimus est, probissimus, juvenis integer, frugi, omni bono meritus, and the like. Such recommendations are sometimes subscribed by guilds or corporations, as well as by private persons, and show that there were a great many such trade unions at Pompeii. Thus we find mentioned the offectores (dyers), pistores (bakers), aurifices (goldsmiths), pomarii (fruiterers), cæparii (green-grocers), lignarii (wood merchants), plostrarii (cart-wrights), piscicapi (fishermen), agricolæ (husbandmen), muliones (muleteers), culinarii (cooks), fullones (fullers), and others. Advertisements of this sort appear to have been laid hold of as a vehicle for street wit, just as electioneering squibs are perpetrated among ourselves. Thus we find mentioned, as if among the companies, the pilicrepi (ball-players), the seribibi (late topers), the dormientes universi (all the worshipful company of sleepers), and as a climax, Pompeiani universi (all the Pompeians, to a man, vote for so and so). One of these recommendations, purporting to emanate from a "teacher" or "professor," runs, Valentius cum discentes suos (Valentius with his disciples); the bad grammar being probably intended as a gibe upon one of the poor man's weak points.

The inscriptions in chalk and coal, the graffiti, and [45]occasionally painted inscriptions, contain sometimes well-known verses from poets still extant. Some of these exhibit variations from the modern text, but being written by not very highly educated persons, they seldom or never present any various readings that it would be desirable to adopt, and indeed contain now and then prosodical errors. Other verses, some of them by no means contemptible, are either taken from pieces now lost, or are the invention of the writer himself. Many of these inscriptions are of course of an amatory character; some convey intelligence of not much importance to anybody but the writer—as, that he is troubled with a cold—or was seventeen centuries ago—or that he considers somebody who does not invite him to supper as no better than a brute and barbarian, or invokes blessings on the man that does. Some are capped by another hand with a biting sarcasm on the first writer, and many, as might be expected, are scurrilous and indecent. Some of the graffiti on the interior walls and pillars of houses are memoranda of domestic transactions; as, how much lard was bought, how many tunics sent to the wash, when a child or a donkey was born, and the like. One of this kind, scratched on the wall of the peristyle of the corner house in the Strada della Fortuna and Vicolo degli Scienziati, appears to be an account of the dispensator or overseer of the tasks in spinning allotted to the female slaves of the establishment, and is interesting as furnishing us with their names, which are Vitalis, Florentina, Amarullis, Januaria, Heracla, Maria (Maria, feminine of Marius, not Maria), Lalagia (reminding us of Horace's Lalage), Damalis, and Doris. The pensum, or weight of wool delivered to each to be spun, is spelled pesu, the n and final m being omitted, just as we find salve lucru, for lucrum, written on the threshold of the house of Siricus. In this form, pesu is very close to the Italian word peso.

We have already alluded now and then to the rude etchings and caricatures of these wall-artists, but to enter fully into the [46]subject of the Pompeian inscriptions and graffiti would almost demand a separate volume, and we must therefore resume the thread of our description.

A little beyond the house of Siricus, a small street, running down at right angles from the direction of the Forum, enters the Via del Lupanare. Just at their junction, and having an entrance into both, stands the Lupanar, from which the latter street derives its name. We can not venture upon a description of this resort of Pagan immorality. It is kept locked up, but the guide will procure the key for those who may wish to see it. Next to it is the House of the Fuller, in which was found the elegant little bronze statuette of Narcissus, now in the Museum. The house contained nothing else of interest.

The Via del Lupanare terminates in the Street of the Augustals, or of the Dried Fruits. In this latter street, nearly opposite the end of the Via del Lupanare, but a little to the left, is the House of Narcissus, or of the Mosaic Fountain. This house is one of recent excavation. At the threshold is a Mosaic of a bear, with the word Have. The prothyrum is painted with figures on a yellow ground. On the left is a medallion of a satyr and nymph; the opposite medallion is destroyed.

The atrium is paved with mosaic. The first room on the right-hand side of it has a picture of Narcissus admiring himself in the water. The opposite picture has a female figure seated, with a child in her arms, and a large chest open before her. The tablinum is handsomely paved with mosaic and marble. Behind this, in place of a peristyle, is a court or garden, the wall of which is painted with a figure bearing a basin. At the bottom is a handsome mosaic fountain, from which the house derives one of its names, with a figure of Neptune surrounded by fishes and sea-fowl; above are depicted large wild boars.

On the opposite side of the way, at the eastern angle of the Street of the Lupanar, is the House of the Rudder and Trident, [47]also called the House of Mars and Venus. The first of these names is derived from the mosaic pavement in the prothyrum, in which the objects mentioned are represented; while a medallion picture in the atrium, with heads of Mars and Venus, gave rise to the second appellation. The colors of this picture are still quite fresh, a result which Signor Fiorelli attributes to his having caused a varnish of wax to be laid over the painting at the time of its discovery. Without some such protection the colors of these pictures soon decay; the cinnabar, or vermilion, especially, turns black after a few days' exposure to the light.

The atrium, as usual, is surrounded with bed-chambers. A peculiarity not yet found in any other house is a niche or closet on the left of the atrium, having on one side an opening only large enough to introduce the hand, whence it has been conjectured that it served as a receptacle for some valuable objects. It is painted inside with a wall of quadrangular pieces of marble of various colors, terminated at top with a cornice. In each of the squares is a fish, bird, or quadruped.

This closet or niche stands at a door of the room in which is an entrance to a subterranean passage, having its exit in the Via del Lupanare. There is nothing very remarkable in the other apartments of this house. Behind is a peristyle with twelve columns, in the garden of which shrubs are said to have been discovered in a carbonized state.

Further down the same Street of the Augustals, at the angle which it forms with the Street of Stabiæ, is the house of a baker, having on the external wall the name Modestum in red letters. For a tradesman it seems to have been a comfortable house, having an atrium and fountain, and some painted chambers. Beyond the atrium is a spacious court with mills and an oven. The oven was charged with more than eighty loaves, the forms of which are still perfect, though they are reduced to a carbonaceous state. They are preserved in the Museum.

[48]The narrow street to which we have alluded, as entering the Via del Lupanare nearly opposite to the house of Siricus, has been called the Via del Balcone, from a small house with a projecting balcony or mænianum. Indications of balconies have been found elsewhere, and indeed there were evidently some in the Via del Lupanare; but this is the only instance of one restored to its pristine state, through the care of Signor Fiorelli in substituting fresh timbers for those which had become carbonized. The visitor may ascend to the first floor of this house, from which the balcony projects several feet into the narrow lane. In the atrium of this house is a very pretty fountain.

The house next to that of the Balcony, facing the entrance of a small street leading from the Via dell Abbondanza, and numbered 7 on the door post, has a few pictures in a tolerable state of preservation. In a painting in the furthest room on the left of the atrium Theseus is seen departing in his ship; Ariadne, roused from sleep, gazes on him with despair, while a little weeping Cupid stands by her side. In the same apartment are two other well-preserved pictures, the subjects of which it is not easy to explain. In one is a female displaying to a man two little figures in a nest, representing apparently the birth of the Dioscuri. The other is sometimes called the Rape of Helen. There are also several medallion heads around.

In the small street which runs parallel with the eastern side of the Forum, called the Vico di Eumachia, is a house named the Casa nuova della Caccia, to distinguish it from one of the same name previously discovered. As in the former instance, its appellation is derived from a large painting on the wall of the peristyle, of bears, lions, and other animals. On the right-hand wall of the tablinum is a picture of Bacchus discovering Ariadne. A satyr lifts her vest, while Silenus and other figures look on in admiration. The painting on the left-hand wall is destroyed. On entering the peristyle a door on the right leads down some [49]steps into a garden, on one side of which is a small altar before a wall, on which is a painting of shrubs.

Proceeding from this street into the Vico Storto, which forms a continuation of it on the north, we find on the right a recently excavated house, which, from several slabs of variously colored marbles found in it, has been called the House of the Dealer in Marbles. Under a large court in the interior, surrounded with Doric columns, are some subterranean apartments, in one of which was discovered a well more than eighty feet deep and still supplied with fresh water; almost the only instance of the kind at Pompeii. The beautiful statuette of Silenus, already described, was found in this house. Here also was made the rare discovery of the skeletons of two horses, with the remains of a biga.

This description might be extended, but it would be tedious to repeat details of smaller and less interesting houses, the features of which present in general much uniformity; and we shall therefore conclude this account of the more recent discoveries with a notice of a group of bodies found in this neighborhood, the forms of which have been preserved to us through the ingenuity of Signor Fiorelli.

It has already been remarked that the showers of lapillo, or pumice stone, by which Pompeii was overwhelmed and buried, were followed by streams of a thick, tenacious mud, which flowing over the deposit of lapillo, and filling up all the crannies and interstices into which that substance had not been able to penetrate, completed the destruction of the city. The objects over which this mud flowed were enveloped in it as in a plaster mould, and where these objects happened to be human bodies, their decay left a cavity in which their forms were as accurately preserved and rendered as in the mould prepared for the casting of a bronze statue. Such cavities had often been observed. In some of them remnants of charred wood, accompanied with [50]bronze or other ornaments, showed that the object inclosed had been a piece of furniture; while in others, the remains of bones and of articles of apparel evinced but too plainly that the hollow had been the living grave which had swallowed up some unfortunate human being. In a happy moment the idea occurred to Signor Fiorelli of filling up these cavities with liquid plaster, and thus obtaining a cast of the objects which had been inclosed in them. The experiment was first made in a small street leading from the Via del Balcone Pensile towards the Forum. The bodies here found were on the lapillo at a height of about fifteen feet from the level of the ground.

"Among the first casts thus obtained were those of four human beings. They are now preserved in a room at Pompeii, and more ghastly and painful, yet deeply interesting and touching objects, it is difficult to conceive. We have death itself moulded and cast—the very last struggle and final agony brought before us. They tell their story with a horrible dramatic truth that no sculptor could ever reach. They would have furnished a thrilling episode to the accomplished author of the 'Last Days of Pompeii.'

"These four persons had perished in a street. They had remained within the shelter of their homes until the thick black mud began to creep through every cranny and chink. Driven from their retreat they began to flee when it was too late. The streets were already buried deep in the loose pumice stones which had been falling for many hours in unremitting showers, and which reached almost to the windows of the first floor. These victims of the eruption were not found together, and they do not appear to have belonged to the same family or household. The most interesting of the casts is that of two women, probably mother and daughter, lying feet to feet. They appear from their garb to have been people of poor condition. The elder seems to lie tranquilly on her side. Overcome by the noxious gases, she [51]probably fell and died without a struggle. Her limbs are extended, and her left arm drops loosely. On one finger is still seen her coarse iron ring. Her child was a girl of fifteen; she [52]seems, poor thing, to have struggled hard for life. Her legs are drawn up convulsively; her little hands are clenched in agony. In one she holds her veil, or a part of her dress, with which she had covered her head, burying her face in her arm, to shield herself from the falling ashes and from the foul sulphurous smoke. The form of her head is perfectly preserved. The texture of her coarse linen garments may be traced, and even the fashion of her dress, with its long sleeves reaching to her wrists; here and there it is torn, and the smooth young skin appears in the plaster like polished marble. On her tiny feet may still be seen her embroidered sandals.

"At some distance from this group lay a third woman. She appears to have been about twenty-five years of age, and to have belonged to a better class than the other two. On one of her fingers were two silver rings, and her garments were of a finer texture. Her linen head-dress, falling over her shoulders like that of a matron in a Roman statue, can still be distinguished. She had fallen on her side, overcome by the heat and gases, but a terrible struggle seems to have preceded her last agony. One arm is raised in despair; the hands are clenched convulsively; her garments are gathered up on one side, leaving exposed a limb of beautiful shape. So perfect a mould of it has been formed by the soft and yielding mud, that the cast would seem to be taken from an exquisite work of Greek art. She had fled with her little treasure, which lay scattered around her—two silver cups, a few jewels, and some dozen silver coins; nor had she, like a good housewife, forgotten her keys, after having probably locked up her stores before seeking to escape. They were found by her side.

"The fourth cast is that of a man of the people, perhaps a common soldier. As may be seen in the cut, he is of almost colossal size; he lies on his left arm extended by his side, and his head rests on his right hand, and his legs drawn up as if, finding [53]escape impossible, he had laid himself down to meet death like a brave man. His dress consists of a short coat or jerkin and tight-fitting breeches of some coarse stuff, perhaps leather. On one finger is seen his iron ring. His features are strongly marked the mouth open, as in death. Some of the teeth still remain, and even part of the moustache adheres to the plaster.

"The importance of Signor Fiorelli's discovery may be understood from the results we have described. It may furnish us with many curious particulars as to the dress and domestic habits of the Romans, and with many an interesting episode of the last day of Pompeii. Had it been made at an earlier period we might perhaps have possessed the perfect cast of the Diomedes, as they clung together in their last struggle, and of other victims whose remains are now mingled together in the bone-house."

---

[54]

House of Diomedes.

This house, the most interesting, and by far the most extensive of the private buildings yet discovered, is the Suburban Villa, as it is called, from its position a little way without the gates, in the Street of the Tombs, which led to, or formed part of, the suburb called Augustus Felix. It is worthy of remark that the plan of this edifice is in close accord with the descriptions of country houses given us by Vitruvius and others—a circumstance which tends strongly to confirm the belief already expressed, that the houses of the city are built upon the Roman system of arrangement, although the Greek taste may predominate in their decoration. We will commence by extracting the most important passages in Pliny the Younger's description of his Laurentine villa, that the reader may have some general notion of the subject, some standard with which to compare that which we are about to describe.

"My villa is large enough for convenience, though not splendid. The first apartment which presents itself is a plain, yet not mean, atrium; then comes a portico, in shape like the letter O, which surrounds a small, but pleasant area. This is an excellent retreat in bad weather, being sheltered by glazed windows, and still more effectually by an overhanging roof. Opposite the centre of this portico is a pleasant cavædium, after which comes a handsome triclinium, which projects upon the beach, so that when the southwest wind urges the sea, the last broken waves just dash [55]against its walls. On every side of this room are folding doors, or windows equally large, so that from the three sides there is a view, as it were, of three seas at once, while backwards the eye wanders through the apartments already described, the cavædium, portico, and atrium, to woods and distant mountains. To the left are several apartments, including a bed-chamber, and room fitted up as a library, which jets out in an elliptic form, and, by its several windows, admits the sun during its whole course. These apartments I make my winter abode. The rest of this side of the house is allotted to my slaves and freedmen, yet it is for the most part neat enough to receive my friends. To the right of the triclinium is a very elegant chamber, and another, which you may call either a very large chamber (cubiculum), or moderate-sized eating-room (cœnatio), which commands a full prospect both of the sun and sea. Passing hence, through three or four other chambers, you enter the cella frigidaria of the baths, in which there are two basins projecting from opposite walls, abundantly large enough to swim in, if you feel inclined to do so in the first instance. Then come the anointing-room, the hypocaust, or furnace, and two small rooms; next the warm bath, which commands an admirable view of the sea. Not far off is the sphæristerium, a room devoted to in-door exercises and games, exposed to the hottest sun of the declining day. Beside it is a triclinium, where the noise of the sea is never heard but in a storm, and then faintly, looking out upon the garden and the gestatio, or place for taking the air in a carriage or litter, which encompasses it. The gestatio is hedged with box, and with rosemary where the box is wanting; for box grows well where it is sheltered by buildings, but withers when exposed in an open situation to the wind, and especially within reach of spray from the sea. To the inner circle of the gestatio is joined a shady walk of vines, soft and tender even to the naked feet. The garden is full of mulberries and figs, the soil being especially suited to the [56]former. Within the circuit of the gestatio there is also a cryptoportico, for extent comparable to public buildings, having windows on one side looking to the sea, on the other to the garden. In front of it is a xystus, fragrant with violets, where the sun's heat is increased by reflection from the cryptoportico, which, at the same time, breaks the northeast wind. At either end of it is a suite of apartments, in which, in truth, I place my chief delight."[14] Such was one of several villas described by Pliny. The directions given by Vitruvius for building country houses are very short. "The same principles," he says, "are to be observed in country houses as in town houses, except that in the latter the atrium lies next to the door, but in pseudo-urban houses the peristyles come first, then atria surrounded by paved porticoes, looking upon courts for gymnastic exercises and walking" (palæstras et ambulationes).[15] It will appear that the distribution of the Suburban Villa was entirely in accordance with these rules.

The house is built upon the side of the hill, in such a manner that the ground falls away, not only in the line of the street, across the breadth of the house, but also from the front to the back, so that the doorway itself being elevated from five to six feet above the roadway, there is room at the back of the house for an extensive and magnificent suite of rooms between the level of the peristyle and the surface of the earth. These two levels are represented on the same plan, being distinguished by a difference in the shading. The darker parts show the walls of the upper floor, the lighter ones indicate the distribution of the lower. A further distinction is made in the references, which are by figures to the upper floor, and by letters to the lower. There are besides subterraneous vaults and galleries not expressed in the plan.

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1. Broad foot pavement raised nine inches or a foot above the carriage way, running along the whole length of the Street of Tombs. 2. Inclined planes, leading up to the porch on each side. 3. Entrance. 4. Peristyle. This arrangement corresponds exactly with the directions of Vitruvius for the building of [58]country houses just quoted. The order of the peristyle is extremely elegant. The columns, their capitals, and entablatures, and the paintings on the walls are still in good preservation. The architectural decorations are worked in stucco; and it is observed by Mazois that both here and in other instances the artist has taken liberties, which he would not have indulged in had he been working in more valuable materials. On this ground that eminent architect hazards a conjecture that the plasterer had a distinct style of ornamenting, different from that of architects, or of the masons in their employ. The lower third of the columns, which is not fluted, is painted red. The pavement was formed of opus Signinum. 5. Uncovered court with an impluvium, which collected the rain water and fed a cistern, whence the common household wants were supplied. 6. Descending staircase, which led to a court and building on a lower level, appropriated to the offices, as the kitchen, bakehouse, etc., and to the use of slaves. It will be recollected that the ground slopes with a rapid descent away from the city gate. This lower story, therefore, was not under ground, though near eight feet below the level of the peristyle. It communicates with the road by a back door. From the bottom of the stair there runs a long corridor, A, somewhat indistinct in our small plan, owing to its being crossed several times by the lines of the upper floor, which leads down by a gentle slope to the portico surrounding the garden. This was the back stair, as we should call it, by which the servants communicated with that part of the house. There was another staircase, B, on the opposite side of the house, for the use of the family. 7. Door and passage to the upper garden, marked 17, on the same level as the court. 8. Open hall, corresponding in position with a tablinum. Being thus placed between the court and the gallery, 28, it must have been closed with folding doors of wood, which perhaps were glazed. 9, 10, 11, 12. Various rooms containing nothing remarkable. 13. Two rooms situated in the [59]most agreeable manner at the two ends of a long gallery, 28, and looking out upon the upper terraces of the garden, from which the eye took in the whole gulf of Naples to the point of Sorrento, and the island of Capreæ. 14. Procæton, or antechamber. 15. Lodge of the cubicular slave, or attendant upon the bed-room. 16. Bed-room, probably that of the master, or else the state-chamber. b. Alcove. Several rings were found here which had evidently belonged to a curtain to draw across the front of it. c. Hollow stand or counter of masonry, probably coated with stucco or marble, which served for a toilet-table. Several vases were found there, which must have contained perfumes or cosmetic oils. The form of this bed-room is very remarkable, and will not fail to strike the reader from its exact correspondence with the elliptic chamber or library described by Pliny in his Laurentine villa. The windows in the semi-circular end are so placed that they receive the rising, noontide, and setting sun. Bull's eyes, placed above the windows, permitted them to be altogether closed without darkening the room entirely. These windows opened on a garden, where, in Mazois' time, the care of the guardian had planted roses, which almost beguiled him into the belief that he had found the genuine produce of a Pompeian garden. This must have been a delightful room, from its ample size, elegance of ornament, and the quiet cheerful retirement of its situation.

17. Upper garden upon the level of the court.

18. Entrance to the baths, which, though originally rare in private houses, had become so common, long before the destruction of Pompeii, that few wealthy persons were without them. The word balneum was peculiarly applied to domestic, thermæ to public baths. This specimen, which fortunately was almost perfect, small as it is, suffices to give an idea of the arrangement of private baths among the Romans. 19. Portico upon two sides of a small triangular court. There is as much skill in the [60]disposition, as taste in the decoration, of this court, which presents a symmetrical plan, notwithstanding the irregular form of the space allotted to it. Its situation is conformable to the advice of Vitruvius; and as it could not front the west, it has been placed to the south. The columns of the portico are octagonal. At the extremity of the gallery, on the left of the entrance, there is a small furnace where was prepared some warm beverage or restorative for the use of the bathers, who were accustomed to take wine or cordials before they went away. Here a gridiron and two frying pans were found, still blackened with smoke. In the centre of the base, or third side of the court, is placed a bath, 20, about six feet square, lined with stucco, the edge of which is faced with marble. It was covered with a roof, the mark of which is still visible on the walls, supported by two pillars placed on the projecting angles. The holes in the walls to admit the three principal beams are so contrived that each side is lined with a single brick. Under this covering the whole wall was painted to represent water, with fish and other aquatic animals swimming about. The water was blue, and rather deep in color: the fish were represented in the most vivid and varied tints. Some years ago this painting recovered, on being wetted, the original freshness and brilliancy of its coloring; but exposure to the weather has done its work, and now scarce a trace of it remains. In the middle of it there is a circular broken space to which a mask was formerly attached, through which a stream gushed into the basin below. Two or three steps led down to this baptisterium, where the cold bath was taken in the open air. This court and portico were paved in mosaic. 21. Apodyterium. 22. Frigidarium. 23. Tepidarium. These two rooms, in neither of which was there a bathing vessel, show that frequently rooms thus named were not intended for bathing, but simply to preserve two intermediate gradations of temperature, between the burning heat of the caldarium or laconicum and the open air. In fact, no trace [61]of any contrivance for the introduction or reception of water has been found in No. 22. It was simply a cold chamber, cella frigidaria. Nor was the little chamber, 23, large enough to receive conveniently a bathing vessel; but seats of wood were found there for the convenience of those who had quitted the bath, and who came there to undergo the discipline of the strigil, and a minute process of purification and anointing. This room is not above twelve feet by six: the bath, therefore, could not have been calculated for the reception of more than one, or, at most, of two persons at once. Here the great question relative to the use of glass windows by the ancients was finally settled. This apartment was lighted by a window closed by a movable frame of wood, which, though converted into charcoal, still held, when it was found, four panes of glass about six inches square. A more elaborate and curious glass window was found at a later period in the public baths. 24. Caldarium. It might, however, be employed at pleasure as a tepid or cold bath, when the weather was too cold for bathing in the open air. The suspensura caldariorum, as Vitruvius calls the hollow walls and floors raised upon pillars, are in remarkably good preservation. By means of these the whole apartment was entirely enveloped in flame, and might be easily raised to a most stifling temperature.

We will, however, add that Vitruvius directs a bed of clay mixed with hair to be laid between the pillars and the pavement; and some tradition of this custom may be imagined to subsist, for the potters of the country, in some cases, work up wool with their clay, a practice unknown elsewhere, as we believe, in the art of pottery. The burning vapor passed out above the ceiling, gaining no entrance into the apartment. Air and light were admitted by two windows, one higher than the other. In one of these Mazois found a fragment of glass. The bathing-vessel, e, lined with stucco, and coated on the outside with marble, was fed by two cocks, which must have been very small, to judge from the [62]space which they occupied. Hence, hot and cold water were supplied at pleasure; and it was only to fill the vessel with boiling water, and the whole apartment would be converted into one great vapor bath.

As it would have been difficult or impossible to have kept alive a lamp or torch in so dense a steam, there is near the door a circular hole, closed formerly by a glass, which served to admit the light of a lamp placed in the adjoining chamber. The hypocaust, or furnace and apparatus, 25, for heating the water, are so placed that they can not be seen from the triangular court. They are small, but correspond with the small quantity of boiling water which they were required to furnish. f. Stone table. g. Cistern. h. Mouth of hypocaust. i. A furnace, probably for boiling water when merely a tepid bath was required, without heating the suspensura caldariorum. By the side of the hypocaust were placed the vases for hot and cold water, as described in the chapter on Baths; their pedestals were observable between the mouth of the furnace and the letter k. l. Wooden staircase, no longer in existence, which led to the apartments above. 26. Reservoir.

Such was the distribution of this bath. Some paintings and mosaics, which are ordinary enough, formed its only decorations; yet, from the little that remains, we can discover that the good taste which reigned everywhere, and the freshness of the colors, must have rendered the effect of the whole most agreeable.

27. This chamber seems to have been used as a wardrobe, where the numerous garments of the opulent masters of this dwelling were kept under presses, to give them a lustre. This conjecture is founded upon the remains of calcined stuffs, and the fragments of wardrobes and carbonized plank found in the course of excavation.

28. Great gallery, lighted by windows which looked upon the two terraces, 34, separated by the large hall, 33. This [63]gallery furnished an agreeable promenade, when the weather did not permit the enjoyment of the external porticoes or terraces.

29, 29. These two small apartments, which were open to the gallery, and probably were closed by glass, may very well have been, one a library, the other a reading-room, since the place in which books were kept was not usually the place in which they were read; being small and confined, suitable to the comparatively small number of volumes which an ancient library generally contained, and also to the limited space within which a considerable number of rolls of papyrus might be placed.

A bust, painted on the wall of one of them, confirms this supposition, for it is known that the ancients were fond of keeping the portraits of eminent men before their eyes, and especially of placing those of literary men in their libraries.

30. The form of this hall is suitable to a triclinium, and its situation, protected from the immediate action of the sun's rays, would seem to mark it as a summer triclinium. Still the guests enjoyed the view of the country and of the sea, by means of a door opening upon the terrace. In front of the little chamber, 31, is a square opening for the staircase, which descends to the point B upon the floor below. It is to be remarked, that at the entrance of each division of the building there is a lodge for a slave. No doubt each suite of rooms had its peculiar keeper. The chamber, 10, seems to have been reserved for the keeper of the peristyle; the apartment, 15, belonged to the slave of the bed-chamber, who watched the apartment of his master; a recess under the staircase, 35, was, without doubt, the place of the atriensis, or attendant on the atrium, when the hall, 8, was open, to give admission to the interior of the house; and when this hall was closed, he attended in the chamber, 12, which commanded the entrance through the passage, or fauces.

Lastly, the small lodge, 31, is so placed as to keep watch over all communication between the upper floor, where is the [64]peristyle, and the lower floor, in which the apartments of the family seem to have been chiefly situated.

32. Apartment, entirely ruined, to which it is difficult to assign a name.

33. Large cyzicene œcus, about thirty-six feet by twenty-six. All the windows of this apartment opened almost to the level of the floor, and gave a view of the garden, the terraces and trellises which ornamented them, as well as of the vast and beautiful prospect towards the sea and Vesuvius.

34. Large terraces, perhaps formerly covered with trellises, which communicate with the terraces over the gallery by which the garden is surrounded.

35. Staircase leading to the upper floor, on which may have been the gynæceum, or suite of apartments belonging to the women. So retired a situation, however, did not always suit the taste of the Roman ladies.

Cornelius Nepos says that "they occupy for the most part the first floor in the front of the house." Mazois was long impressed with the idea that there must have been an upper story here, but for a long time he could not find the staircase.

At last he discovered in this place marks in the plaster, which left no doubt in his mind but that it had existed here, though being of wood it disappeared with the other woodwork. He recognized the inclination and the height of the steps, and found that they were high and narrow, like those stone stairs which exist still in the same dwelling.

36. A sort of vestibule at the entrance of the building, appropriated to the offices. This lower court probably contained the kitchen.

37. Bake-house, apartments of the inferior slaves, stables, and other accessories. These are separated from the main building by means of a mesaulon, or small internal court, to diminish the danger in case of a fire happening in the kitchen or [65]bake-house. There were two ways of communication from the level of the street to the level of the garden; on one side by the corridor, A, A, principally reserved for the servants, on the other by the staircase, B, C, C, C, Portico round the garden.

The side beneath the house and that at the right of the plan are perfectly preserved, but it has been found necessary to support the terrace on this side by inserting a modern pillar between each of the old ones, and to build two massive piers beneath the terrace on which the great cyzicene hall is situated. This portico was elegantly ornamented. If we may judge of the whole from a part, which is given by Mazois, the interior entablature was ornamented with light mouldings and running patterns, while there was a little picture over each pillar. That in his plate represents a swan flying away with a serpent. The pillars were square, the lower part painted with flowers springing from trellises, apparently of very delicate execution. The same style of painting occurs in the court of the baths. The ceiling of the portico beneath the terrace is, in respect of its construction, one of the most curious specimens of ancient building which have reached our time. It is a plane surface of masonry, hung in the air, supported neither on the principle of the arch, nor by iron cramps, but owing its existence entirely to the adherence of the mortar by which it is cemented. It is divided into compartments by false beams (caissons) of the same construction. The whole is of remarkable solidity. D. Open hall at the end of the western portico. E. Fountain, supplied perhaps by the water of the cistern. There was formerly a well upon the terrace, 34, by which water might be drawn from the reservoir of this fountain, but it was effaced when the area of the terrace was restored. F, F, F. Different chambers, halls, triclinium, in which the remains of a carpet were found on the floor, and other rooms, to which it is difficult to assign any particular destination. They are all decorated in the most elegant and refined manner, but their [66]paintings are hastening to decay with a rapidity which is grievous to behold. Fortunately, the Academy of Naples has published a volume of details, in which the greater part of the frescos of this villa are engraved. G. Passage, leading by the staircase B to the upper floor, and by the staircase H to the subterranean galleries. There is a similar staircase, H, on the other side of the portico.

These galleries form a crypt beneath the portico, lighted and aired by loop-holes on the level of the ground. Amphoræ, placed in sand against the wall, are still to be seen there, and for this reason it has been conjectured that the crypt served the purposes of a cellar; but even this crypt was coarsely painted. I. Mesaulon, or court, which separates the offices from the house. K. Small room at the extremity of the garden. L. An oratory; the niche served to receive a little statue. M. Xystus, or garden. N. Piscina, with a jet d'eau. O. Enclosure covered with a trellis. P. Door to the country and towards the sea. Q. This enclosure, about fifteen feet wide, appears to have been covered with a trellis, and must have been much frequented, since there is a noble flight of steps leading down to it from the upper garden. It fronted the south, and must have been a delightful winter promenade.

The arch to the left is the end of the open hall, D, above the portico; on each side are the terraces, 34, 34, and in the centre are the remains of the cyzicene hall. Beneath on the level of the portico, are the several rooms marked F, probably the chief summer abode of the family, being well adapted to that purpose by their refreshing coolness. Their ceilings for the most part are semicircular vaults, richly painted, and the more valuable because few ceilings have been found in existence. We should attempt in vain to describe the complicated subjects, the intricate and varied patterns with which the fertile fancy of the arabesque painter has clothed the walls and ceilings, without the aid of drawings, [67]which we are unable to give; and, indeed, colored plates would be requisite to convey an adequate notion of their effect. In the splendid work which Mr. Donaldson has published upon Pompeii, several subjects taken from these rooms will be found, some of them colored, together with eight mosaics, some of very complicated, all of elegant design; and to this and similar works we must refer the further gratification of the reader's curiosity.

Such was this mansion, in which no doubt the owner took pride and pleasure, to judge from the expense lavished with unsparing hand on its decoration; and if he could be supposed to have any cognizance of what is now passing on earth, his vanity might find some consolation for having been prematurely deprived of it, in the posthumous celebrity which it has obtained. But his taste and wealth have done nothing to perpetuate his name, for not a trace remains that can indicate to what person or to what family it belonged. It is indeed usually called the Villa of Marcus Arius Diomedes, on the strength of a tomb discovered about the same period immediately opposite to it, bearing that name. No other tomb had then been discovered so near it, and on this coincidence of situation a conclusion was drawn that this must have been a family sepulchre, attached to the house, and, by consequence, that the house itself belonged to Diomedes. The conjecture at the outset rested but on a sandy foundation, which has since been entirely sapped by the discovery of numerous other tombs almost equally near. All that we know of the owner or his family may be comprised in one sentence, which, short as it is, speaks forcibly to our feelings. Their life was one of elegant luxury and enjoyment, in the midst of which death came on them by surprise, a death of singular and lingering agony.

When Vesuvius first showed signs of the coming storm the air was still, as we learn from the description of Pliny, and the smoke of the mountain rose up straight, until the atmosphere would bear it no higher, and then spread on all sides into a [68]canopy, suggesting to him the idea of an enormous pine tree. After this a wind sprung up from the west, which was favorable to carry Pliny from Misenum to Stabiæ, but prevented his return. The next morning probably it veered something to the north, when, in the younger Pliny's words, a cloud seemed to descend upon the earth, to cover the sea, and hide the Isle of Capreæ from his view. The ashes are said by Dion Cassius to have reached Egypt, and in fact a line drawn southeast from Vesuvius would pass very near Pompeii, and cut Egypt. It was probably at this moment that the hail of fire fell thickest at Pompeii, at daybreak on the second morning, and if any had thus long survived the stifling air and torrid earth which surrounded them, their misery probably was at this moment brought to a close. The villa of which we speak lay exactly between the city and the mountain, and must have felt the first, and, if there were degrees of misery, where all perished alike, the worst effects of this fearful visitation. Fearful is such a visitation in the present day, even to those who crowd to see an eruption of Vesuvius as they would to a picture-gallery or an opera; how much more terrible, accompanied by the certainty of impending death, to those whom neither history nor experience had familiarized with the most awful phenomenon presented by nature. At this, or possibly an earlier moment, the love of life proved too strong for the social affections of the owner of the house. He fled, abandoning to their fate a numerous family, and a young and beautiful daughter, and bent his way, with his most precious movables, accompanied only by a single slave, to the sea, which he never reached alive. His daughter, two children, and other members of his family and household sought protection in the subterranean vaults, which, by the help of the wine-jars already stored there, and the provisions which they brought down with them, they probably considered as sufficient refuge against an evil of which they could not guess the whole extent. It was a vain hope; the same fate awaited them all by different ways. The strong vaults and narrow openings to the day protected them, indeed, from the falling cinders; but the heat, sufficient to char wood, and volatilize the more subtle part of the ashes, could not be kept out by such means. The vital air was changed into a sulphurous vapor, charged with burning dust. In their despair, longing for the pure breath of heaven, they rushed to the door, already choked with scoriæ and ruins, and perished in agonies on which the imagination does not willingly dwell.

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[70]This the reader will probably be inclined to think might do very well for the conclusion of a romance, but why invent such sentimental stories to figure in a grave historical account? It is a remarkable instance, perhaps the strongest which has yet occurred, of the peculiar interest which the discoveries at Pompeii possess, as introducing us to the homes, nay, to the very persons of a long-forgotten age, that every circumstance of this tale can be verified by evidence little less than conclusive. Beside the garden gate, marked P, two skeletons were found; one presumed to be the master, had in his hand the key of that gate, and near him were about a hundred gold and silver coins; the other, stretched beside some silver vases, was probably a slave charged with the transport of them. When the vaults beneath the room, D, were discovered, at the foot of the staircase, H, the skeletons of eighteen adult persons, a boy and an infant were found huddled up together, unmoved during seventeen centuries since they sank in death. They were covered by several feet of ashes of extreme fineness, evidently slowly borne in through the vent-holes, and afterwards consolidated by damp. The substance thus formed resembles the sand used by metal founders for castings, but is yet more delicate, and took perfect impressions of everything on which it lay. Unfortunately this property was not observed until almost too late, and little was preserved except the neck and breast of a girl, which are said to display extraordinary beauty of form. So exact is the impression, that the very texture [71]of the dress in which she was clothed is apparent, which by its extraordinary fineness evidently shows that she had not been a slave, and may be taken for the fine gauze which Seneca calls woven wind. On other fragments the impression of jewels worn on the neck and arms is distinct, and marks that several members of the family here perished. The jewels themselves were found beside them, comprising, in gold, two necklaces, one set with blue stones, and four rings, containing engraved gems. Two of the skeletons belonged to children, and some of their blonde hair was still existent; most of them are said to have been recognized as female. Each sex probably acted in conformity to its character, the men trusting to their own strength to escape, the women waiting with patience the issue of a danger from which their own exertions could not save them.

In the same vault bronze candelabra and other articles, jewels and coins were found. Amphoræ were also found ranged against the wall, in some of which the contents, dried and hardened by time, were still preserved. Archæologists, it is said, pretend to recognize in this substance the flavor of the rich strong wine for which the neighborhood of Vesuvius is celebrated.

Besides the interior garden within the portico, there must have been another garden extending along the southern side of the house. The passage from the peristyle, 7, the position of the elliptic chamber, 16, and the trellis work, Q, with its spacious steps, leave no doubt on this subject. It has been stated in a German periodical that traces of the plowshare have been distinguished in the fields adjoining this villa. This is the only authority we have for supposing that the process of excavation has been extended at all beyond the house itself. The garden to the south is still, to the best of our information, uncleared, nor is it likely that it contains objects of sufficient interest to recompense the labor which would be consumed in laying it open. Our limited knowledge of ancient horticulture is not therefore likely [72]to be increased by means of Pompeii; for such small flower-pots as are attached to houses within the town can not contain anything worth notice beyond a fountain or a summer triclinium.

We will do our best, however, to complete the reader's notion of an Italian villa, and show what might have been, since we can not show what has been here, by borrowing Pliny's account of the garden attached to his Tuscan villa, the only account of a Roman garden which has come down to us.

"In front of the house lies a spacious hippodrome, entirely [73]open in the middle, by which means the eye, upon your first entrance, takes in its whole extent at one view. It is encompassed on every side with plane trees covered with ivy, so that while their heads flourish with their own green, their bodies enjoy a borrowed verdure; and thus the ivy twining round the trunk and branches, spreads from tree to tree and connects them together. Between each plane tree are placed box trees, and behind these, bay trees, which blend their shade with that of the planes. This plantation, forming a straight boundary on both sides of the hippodrome, bends at the further end into a semi-circle, which, being set round and sheltered with cypresses, casts a deeper and more gloomy shade; while the inward circular walks (for there are several) enjoying an open exposure, are full of roses, and correct the coolness of the shade by the warmth of the sun.

"Having passed through these several winding alleys, you enter a straight walk, which breaks out into a variety of others, divided by box edges. In one place you have a little meadow; in another the box is cut into a thousand different forms, sometimes into letters; here expressing the name of the master, there that of the artificer; while here and there little obelisks rise, intermixed with fruit trees; when on a sudden, in the midst of this elegant regularity, you are surprised with an imitation of the negligent beauties of rural nature, in the centre of which lies a spot surrounded with a knot of dwarf plane trees. Beyond this is a walk, interspersed with the smooth and twining acanthus, where the trees are also cut into a variety of names and shapes. At the upper end is an alcove of white marble, shaded with vines, supported by four small columns of Carystian marble. Here is a triclinium, out of which the water, gushing through several little pipes, as if it were pressed out by the weight of the persons who repose upon it, falls into a stone cistern underneath, from whence it is received into a fine polished marble basin, so artfully contrived that it is always full without ever overflowing. When I [74]sup here, this basin serves for a table, the larger sort of dishes being placed round the margin, while the smaller swim about in the form of little vessels and water-fowl.

"Corresponding to this is a fountain, which is incessantly emptying and filling; for the water, which it throws up to a great height, falling back again into it, is returned as fast as it is received, by means of two openings.

"Fronting the alcove stands a summer-house of exquisite marble, whose doors project and open into a green enclosure, while from its upper and lower windows also the eye is presented with a variety of different verdures. Next to this is a little private closet, which, though it seems distinct, may be laid into the same room, furnished with a couch; and notwithstanding it has windows on every side, yet it enjoys a very agreeable gloominess, by means of a spreading vine, which climbs to the top and entirely overshades it. Here you may lie and fancy yourself in a wood, with this difference only, that you are not exposed to the weather. In this place a fountain also rises, and instantly disappears. In different quarters are disposed several marble seats, which serve, as well as the summer-house, as so many reliefs after one is tired of walking. Near each seat is a little fountain, and throughout the whole hippodrome several small rills run murmuring along, wheresoever the hand of art thought proper to conduct them, watering here and there different spots of verdure, and in their progress refreshing the whole."

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[75]

Stores and Eating Houses.

To notice all the houses excavated at Pompeii, would be wearisome in the extreme. We intend therefore merely to select some of the most important, to be described at length, the arrangement of which may serve, with variations according to place and circumstances, as a type of the whole. Some, which offer no particularity in their construction, are remarkable for the beauty of their paintings or other decorations; and, indeed, it is from the paintings on the walls that many of the houses have derived their names. Some again are designated from mosaics or inscriptions on the threshold, from the trade or profession evidently exercised by the proprietors, or from some accident, as the presence of distinguished persons at their excavation—as, for instance, those called the House of the Emperor Joseph II., del Gran Duca, degli Scienziati, etc. As it is the object of this work to convey a general notion of the remains of Pompeii, and to exhibit, as far as our materials will permit, the private life of the first century in all its degrees, we shall begin with one or two of the stores. These present great similarity in their arrangements, and indicate that the tribe of storekeepers was very inferior in wealth and comfort to that of our own time and country. They are for the most part very small, and sometimes without any interior apartment on the ground floor. The upper floor must [76]have comprised one or two sleeping-rooms; but there is, as we believe, only one house in which the upper floor is in existence.

It is rare at Pompeii to see a whole house set apart for purposes of trade, a part being occupied by the store itself, the rest furnishing a comfortable dwelling for the owner. The houses of the richer classes, instead of presenting a handsome elevation to the street, were usually surrounded with stores. They furnished considerable revenue.

Cicero, in a letter to Atticus, speaks of the ruinous state into which some of his stores had fallen, "insomuch that not only the men, but the mice had quitted them," and hints at the gain which he hoped to derive from this seemingly untoward circumstance. One Julia Felix possessed nine hundred stores, as we learn from an inscription in Pompeii.

At night the whole front was closed with shutters, sliding in grooves cut in the lintel and basement wall before the counter, and by the door, which is thrown far back, so as to be hardly visible.

There is an oven at the end of the counter furthest from the street, and three steps have been presumed to support different sorts of vessels or measures for liquids. From these indications it is supposed to have been a cook's shop; for the sale, perhaps, both of undressed and dressed provisions, as is indicated in the view. The oven probably served to prepare, and keep constantly hot, some popular dishes for the service of any chance customer; the jars might hold oil, olives, or the fish-pickle called garum, an article of the highest importance in a Roman kitchen, for the manufacture of which Pompeii was celebrated.[16]

[77]Fixed vessels appear inconvenient for such uses on account of the difficulty of cleaning them out; but the practice, it is said, continues to this day at Rome, where the small shopkeepers keep their oil in similar jars, fixed in a counter of masonry. All the ornaments in the view are copied from Pompeii. In front of the store, which stands opposite the passage leading behind the small theatre to the Soldiers' Quarters, are three stepping-stones, to enable persons to cross the road without wetting their feet in bad weather.

In conjunction with a street view, we give the view of another shop, which has also a counter containing jars for the reception of some liquid commodity. By some it is called a Thermopolium, or store for the sale of hot drinks, while others call it an oil store. In front is a fountain. It is situated at the angle of the street immediately adjoining the House of Pansa. The left-hand street leads to the Gate of Herculaneum; the right, skirting Pansa's house, is terminated by the city walls.

Tracks of wheels are very visible on the pavement. The interior was gaily painted in blue panels and red borders, as we learn from the colored view in Mr. Donaldson's Pompeii, from which this is taken. The counter is faced and covered with marble. Numerous thermopolia have been discovered in Pompeii, many [78]of them identified, or supposed to be identified, by the stains left upon the counters by wet glasses.

In the centre is a small altar, placed before a niche, ornamented with the painting of some goddess holding a cornucopia. She is reposing on a couch, closely resembling a modern French bed. The mattress is white, striped with violet, and spotted with gold; the cushion is violet. The tunic of the goddess is blue, the bed, the table, and the cornucopia, gold. This house stands just by the gate of Herculaneum, adjoining the broad flight of steps which leads up to the ramparts. Bonucci supposes that it belonged to the officer appointed to take charge of the gate and walls.

We may take this opportunity to describe the nature and arrangement of the triclinium, of which such frequent mention has been made. In the earlier times of Rome, men sat at table—the habit of reclining was introduced from Carthage after the Punic wars. At first these beds were clumsy in form, and covered with mattresses stuffed with rushes or straw. Hair and wool mattresses were introduced from Gaul at a later period, and were soon followed by cushions stuffed with feathers. At first these tricliniary beds were small, low, and round, and made of wood; afterwards, in the time of Augustus, square and highly ornamented couches came into fashion. In the reign of Tiberius they began to be veneered with costly woods or tortoiseshell, and were covered with valuable embroideries, the richest of which came from Babylon, and cost incredible sums.

Each couch contained three persons, and, properly, the whole [79]arrangement consisted of three couches, so that the number at table did not exceed the number of the Muses, and each person had his seat according to his rank and dignity. The places were thus appropriated: 1. The host. 2. His wife. 3. Guest. 4. Consular place, or place of honor. This was the most convenient situation at table, because he who occupied it, resting on his left arm, could easily with his right reach any part of the table without inconvenience to his neighbors. It was, therefore, set apart for the person of highest rank. 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. Other guests.

The entertainment itself usually comprised three services; the first consisting of fresh eggs, olives, oysters, salad, and other light delicacies; the second of made dishes, fish, and roast meats; the third of pastry, confectionery, and fruits. A remarkable painting, discovered at Pompeii, gives a curious idea of a complete feast. It represents a table set out with every requisite for a grand dinner. In the centre is a large dish, in which four peacocks are placed, one at each corner, forming a magnificent dome with their tails. All round are lobsters—one holding in his claws a blue egg, a second an oyster, a third a stuffed rat, a fourth a little basket full of grasshoppers. Four dishes of fish decorate the bottom, above which are several partridges, and hares, and squirrels, each holding its head between its paws. The whole is surrounded by something resembling a German sausage; then comes a row of yolks of eggs; then a row of peaches, small melons, and cherries; and lastly, a row of vegetables of different sorts. The whole is covered with a sort of green-colored sauce.

Another house, also of the minor class, yet superior to any hitherto described, is recommended to our notice by the beauty [80]of the paintings found. That the proprietor was not rich is evident from its limited extent and accommodation; yet he had some small property, as we may infer from the shop communicating with the house, in which were sold such articles of agricultural produce as were not required for the use of the family.

This house was formerly decorated with paintings taken from the Odyssey, and from the elegant fictions of Grecian mythology. When Mazois visited it in 1812, two paintings in the atrium were still in existence, though in a very perishing state. Shortly after he had copied them they fell, owing to the plaster detaching itself from the wall. One of them is taken from the Odyssey, and represents Ulysses and Circe, at the moment when the hero, having drunk the charmed cup with impunity, by virtue of the antidote given him by Mercury, draws his sword and advances to avenge his companions.[17] The goddess, terrified, makes her submission at once, as described by Homer, while her two attendants fly in alarm; yet one of them, with a natural curiosity, can not resist the temptation to look back, and observe the termination of so unexpected a scene. Circe uses the very gesture of supplication so constantly described by Homer and the tragedians, as she sinks on her knees, extending one hand to clasp the knees of Ulysses, with the other endeavoring to touch his beard.[18] This picture is remarkable, as teaching us the origin of that ugly and unmeaning glory with which the heads of saints are often surrounded. The Italians borrowed it from the Greek artists of the lower empire, in whose paintings it generally has the appearance, as we believe, of a solid plate of gold. The [81]glory round Circe's head has the same character, the outer limb or circle being strongly defined, not shaded off and divining into rays, as we usually see it in the Italian school. This glory was called nimbus, or aureola, and is defined by Servius to be "the luminous fluid which encircles the heads of the gods." It belongs with peculiar propriety to Circe, as the daughter of the sun. The emperors, with their usual modesty, assumed it as the mark of their divinity; and, under this respectable patronage, it passed, like many other Pagan superstitions and customs, in the use of the church.

The other picture represents Achilles at Scyros, where Thetis had hidden him among the daughters of Lycomedes, to prevent his engaging in the Trojan war. Ulysses discovered him by bringing for sale arms mixed with female trinkets, in the character of a merchant. The story is well known. The painting represents the moment when the young hero is seizing the arms. Deidamia seems not to know what to make of the matter, and tries to hold him back, while Ulysses is seen behind with his finger on his lips, closely observing all that passes.

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[82]

Houses of Pansa and Sallust.

The two compartments marked 30 are houses of a very mean class, having formerly an upper story. Behind the last of them is a court, which gives light to one of the chambers of Pansa's house. On the other side of the island or block are three houses (32), small, but of much more respectable extent and accommodation, which probably were also meant to be let. In that nearest the garden were found the skeletons of four women, with gold ear and finger rings having engraved stones, besides other valuables; showing that such inquilini or lodgers, were not always of the lowest class.

The best view of this house is from the front of the doorway. It offers to the eye, successively, the doorway, the prothyrum, the atrium, with its impluvium, the Ionic peristyle, and the garden wall, with Vesuvius in the distance. The entrance is decorated with two pilasters of the Corinthian order. Besides the outer door, there was another at the end of the prothyrum, to secure the atrium against too early intrusion. The latter apartment was paved with marble, with a gentle inclination towards the impluvium. Through the tablinum the peristyle is seen, with two of its Ionic capitals still remaining. The columns are sixteen in number, fluted, except for about one-third of their height from the bottom. They are made of a volcanic stone, and, with their capitals, are of good execution. But at some period subsequent to the erection of the house, probably after the earthquake, A.D. 63, they have been covered with hard stucco, and large [83]leaves of the same material set under the volutes, so as to transform them into a sort of pseudo-Corinthian, or Composite order. It is not impossible that the exclusively Italian order, which we call Composite, may have originated in a similar caprice. Of the disposition of the garden, which occupied the open part of the peristyle, we have little to say. Probably it was planted with choice flowers. Slabs of marble were placed at the angles to receive the drippings of the roof, which were conducted by metal conduits into the central basin, which is about six feet in depth, and was painted green. In the centre of it there stood a jet d'eau, as there are indications enough to prove. This apartment, if such it may be called, was unusually spacious, measuring about sixty-five feet by fifty. The height of the columns was equal to the width of the colonnade, about sixteen feet. Their unfluted part is painted yellow, the rest is coated with white stucco. The floor is elevated two steps above the level of the tablinum.

A curious religious painting, now almost effaced, was found in the kitchen, representing the worship offered to the Lares, under whose protection and custody the provisions and all the cooking utensils were placed. In the centre is a sacrifice in honor of those deities, who are represented below in the usual form of two huge serpents brooding over an altar. There is something remarkable in the upper figures. The female figure in the centre holds a cornucopia, and each of the male figures holds a small vase in the hand nearer to the altar, and a horn in the other. All the faces are quite black, and the heads of the male figures are surrounded with something resembling a glory. Their dress in general, and especially their boots, which are just like the Hungarian boots now worn on the stage, appear different from anything which is to be met with elsewhere. Are these figures meant for the Lares themselves? On each side are represented different sorts of eatables. On the left a bunch of small birds, a string of fish, a boar with a girth about his body, and a [84]magnificently curling tail, and a few loaves, or rather cakes, of the precise pattern of some which have been found in Pompeii: on the right, an eel spitted on a wire, a ham, a boar's head, and a joint of meat, which, as pig-meat seems to have been in request here, we may conjecture to be a loin of pork; at least it is as like that as anything else. It is suspended by a reed, as is still done at Rome. The execution of this painting is coarse and careless in the extreme, yet there is a spirit and freedom of touch which has hit off the character of the objects represented, and forbids us to impute the negligence which is displayed to incapacity. Another object of interest in the kitchen is a stove for stews and similar preparations, very much like those charcoal stoves which are seen in extensive kitchens at the present day. Before it lie a knife, strainers, and a strange-looking sort of a frying-pan, with four spherical cavities, as if it were meant to cook eggs. A similar one, containing twenty-nine egg-holes, has been found, which is circular, about fifteen inches in diameter, and without a handle. Another article of kitchen furniture is a sort of flat ladle pierced with holes, said to belong to the class called trua. It was meant apparently to stir up vegetables, etc., while boiling, and to strain the water from them.

This house has been long excavated, and perhaps that is the reason that, considering its extent and splendor, the notices of it are particularly meagre. Of the decorations we have been able [85]to procure no detailed accounts, though several paintings are said to have been found in it, and among them, one of Danae amid the golden shower, deserving of notice. Of the garden little can be said, for little is known. According to the best indications which Mazois could observe, it consisted of a number of straight parallel beds, divided by narrow paths, which gave access to them for horticultural purposes, but with no walk for air and exercise except the portico which adjoins the house.

Inferior to the House of Pansa, and to some others in size, but second to none in elegance of decoration and in the interest which it excites, is a house in the street leading from the Gate of Herculaneum to the Forum, called by some the House of Actæon, from a painting found in it; by others the House of Caius Sallustius. It occupies the southernmost portion of an insula extending backwards to the city walls.

It is remarkable that the architects of Pompeii seem to have been careless for the most part whether they built on a regular or an irregular area. The practice of surrounding the owner's abode with shops, enabled them to turn to advantage the sides and corners of any piece of ground, however misshapen. Thus in another plan the apartments of the dwelling-houses are almost all well shaped and rectangular, though not one of the four angles of the area is a right angle.

The general view of this house is taken from the street in front, and runs completely through to the garden wall. One of the pilasters which flank the doorway has its capital still in good preservation. It is cut out of gray lava, and represents a Silenus and Faun side by side, each holding one end of an empty leather bottle, thrown over their shoulders. Ornaments of this character, which can be comprehended under none of the orders of architecture, are common in Pompeii, and far from unpleasing in their effect, however contrary to established principles. On the right is the large opening into the vestibule. In the centre of the [86]view is the atrium, easily recognized by the impluvium, and beyond it through the tablinum are seen the pillars of the portico. Beyond the impluvium is the place of a small altar for the worship of the Lares. A bronze hind, through the mouth of which a stream of water flowed, formerly stood in the centre of the basin. It bore a figure of Hercules upon its back.

The walls of the atrium and tablinum are curiously stuccoed in large raised panels, with deep channels between them, the panels being painted of different colors, strongly contrasted with each other.

We find among them different shades of the same color, several reds, for instance, as sinopis, cinnabar, and others. This sort of decoration has caused some persons to call this the house of a color-seller—a conjecture entirely at variance with the luxury and elegance which reign in it. The floor was of red cement, with bits of white marble imbedded in it.

The altar in the atrium and the little oratory in the left-hand ala belong to the worship of the Lares domestici or familiares, as is indicated by the paintings found in the false doorway, but now removed. They consisted of a serpent below and a group of four figures above, employed in celebrating a sacrifice to these gods.

In the centre is a tripod, into which a priest, his head covered, is pouring the contents of a patera. On each side are two young men, dressed alike, apparently in the prætexta; at least their robes are white, and there is a double red stripe down the front of their tunics, and a red drapery is thrown over the shoulders of each. In one hand each holds a patera; in the other each holds aloft a cow's horn perforated at the small end, through which a stream is spouting into the patera at a considerable distance. This, though an inconvenient, seems to have been a common drinking-vessel. The method of using it has already been described. In the background is a man playing on the double flute.

[87]The worship of the Lares was thus publicly represented, and their images were exposed to view, that all persons might have an opportunity of saluting them and invoking prosperity on the house. Noble families had also a place of domestic worship (adytum or penetrale) in the most retired part of their mansions, where their most valuable records and hereditary memorials were preserved.

The worship of these little deities (Dii minuti, or patellarii) was universally popular, partly perhaps on account of its economical nature, for they seem to have been satisfied with anything that came to hand, partly perhaps from a sort of feeling of good fellowship in them and towards them, like that connected with the Brownies and Cluricaunes, and other household goblins of northern extraction.

Like those goblins they were represented sometimes under very grotesque forms. There is a bronze figure of one found at Herculaneum, and figured in the Antiquites d'Herculanum, plate xvii. vol. viii., which represents a little old man sitting on the ground with his knees up to his chin, a huge head, ass's ears, a long beard, and a roguish face, which would agree well with our notion of a Brownie. Their statues were often placed behind the door, as having power to keep out all things hurtful, especially evil genii. Respected as they were, they sometimes met with rough treatment, and were kicked or cuffed, or thrown out of window without ceremony, if any unlucky accident had chanced through their neglect. Sometimes they were imaged under the form of dogs, the emblems of fidelity and watchfulness, sometimes, like their brethren of the highways (Lares compitales), in the shape of serpents.

The tutelary genii of men or places, a class of beings closely allied to Lares, were supposed to manifest themselves in the same shape: as, for example, a sacred serpent was believed at Athens to keep watch in the temple of Athene in the Acropolis. Hence [88]paintings of these animals became in some sort the guardians of the spot in which they were set up, like images of saints in Roman Catholic countries, and not unfrequently were employed when it was wished to secure any place from irreverent treatment.

From these associations the presence of serpents came to be considered of good omen, and by a natural consequence they were kept (a harmless sort of course) in the houses, where they nestled about the altars, and came out like dogs or cats to be patted by the visitors, and beg for something to eat. Nay, at table, if we may build upon insulated passages, they crept about the cups of the guests; and in hot weather ladies would use them as live boas, and twist them round their necks for the sake of coolness.

Martial, however, our authority for this, seems to consider it as an odd taste. Virgil, therefore, in a fine passage, in which he has availed himself of the divine nature attributed to serpents, is only describing a scene which he may often have witnessed:

We may conjecture from the paintings, which bear a marked [89]resemblance to one another, that these snakes were of considerable size, and of the same species, probably that called Æsculapius, which was brought from Epidaurus to Rome with the worship of the god, and, as we are told by Pliny, was commonly fed in the houses of Rome. These sacred animals made war on the rats and mice, and thus kept down one species of vermin; but as they bore a charmed life, and no one laid violent hands on them, they multiplied so fast, that, like the monkeys of Benares, they became an intolerable nuisance. The frequent fires at Rome were the only things that kept them under.

Passing through the tablinum, we enter the portico of the xystus, or garden, a spot small in extent, but full of ornament and of beauty, though not that sort of beauty which the notion of a garden suggests to us. It is not larger than a city garden, the object of our continual ridicule; yet while the latter is ornamented only with one or two scraggy poplars, and a few gooseberry-bushes with many more thorns than leaves, the former is elegantly decorated by the hand of art, and set apart as the favorite retreat of festive pleasure. True it is that the climate of Italy suits out-of-door amusements better than our own, and that Pompeii was not exposed to that plague of soot which soon turns marble goddesses into chimney-sweepers. The portico is composed of columns, fluted and corded, the lower portion of them painted blue, without pedestals, yet approaching to the Roman rather than to the Grecian Doric. The entablature is gone. From the portico we ascend by three steps to the xystus. Its small extent, not exceeding in its greatest dimensions seventy feet by twenty, did not permit trees, hardly even shrubs, to be planted in it. The centre, therefore, was occupied by a pavement, and on each side boxes filled with earth were ranged for flowers; while, to make amends for the want of real verdure, the whole wall opposite the portico is painted with trellises and fountains, and birds drinking from them; and above, with thickets enriched and ornamented with numerous tribes of their winged inhabitants.

[90]The most interesting discoveries at Pompeii are those which throw light on, or confirm passages of ancient authors. Exactly the same style of ornament is described by Pliny the Younger as existing in his Tuscan villa. "Another cubiculum is adorned with sculptured marble for the height of the podium; above which is a painting of trees, and birds sitting on them, not inferior in elegance to the marble itself. Under it is a small fountain, and in the fountain a cup, round which the playing of several small water-pipes makes a most agreeable murmur." At the end of this branch of the garden, which is shaped like an L, we see an interesting monument of the customs of private life. It is a summer triclinium, in plan like that which has been mentioned in the preceding chapter, but much more elegantly decorated. The couches are of masonry, intended to be covered with mattresses and rich tapestry when the feast was to be held here: the round table in the centre was of marble. Above it was a trellis, as is shown by the square pillars in front and the holes in the walls which enclose two sides of the triclinium. These walls are elegantly painted in panels, in the prevailing taste; but above the panelling there is a whimsical frieze, appropriate to the purpose of this little pavilion, consisting of all sorts of eatables which can be introduced at a feast. When Mazois first saw it the colors were fresh and beautiful; but when he wrote, after a lapse of ten years, it was already in decay, and ere now it has probably disappeared, so perishable are all those beauties which can not be protected from the inclemency of the weather by removal. In front a stream of water pours into a basin from the wall, on which, half painted, half raised in relief, is a mimic fountain surmounted by a stag. Between the fountain and triclinium, in a line between the two pilasters which supported the trellis, was a small altar, on which the due libations might be poured by the festive party. In the other limb of the garden is a small furnace, probably intended to keep water constantly hot for the [91]use of those who preferred warm potations. Usually the Romans drank their wine mixed with snow, and clarified through a strainer, of which there are many in the Museum of Naples, curiously pierced in intricate patterns; but those who were under medical care were not always suffered to enjoy this luxury. Martial laments his being condemned by his physician to drink no cold wine, and concludes with wishing that his enviers may have nothing but warm water. At the other end of the garden, opposite the front of the triclinium, was a cistern which collected the rain waters, whence they were drawn for the use of the garden and of the house. There was also a cistern at the end of the portico, next the triclinium.

The several rooms to the left of the atrium offer nothing remarkable. On the right, however, as will be evident upon inspecting the plan, a suite of apartments existed, carefully detached from the remainder of the house, and communicating only with the atrium by a single passage. The disposition and the ornaments of this portion of the house prove that it was a private venereum, a place, if not consecrated to the goddess from whom it derives its name, at least especially devoted to her service. The strictest privacy has been studied in its arrangements; no building overlooks it; the only entrance is closed by two doors, both of which we may conjecture, were never suffered to be open at once; and beside them was the apartment of a slave, whose duty was to act as porter and prevent intrusion. Passing the second door, the visitor found himself under a portico supported by octagonal columns, with a court or open area in the centre, and in the middle of it a small basin. At each end of the portico is a small cabinet, with appropriate paintings: in one of them a painting of Venus, Mars, and Cupid is conspicuous.

The apartments were paved with marble, and the walls lined breast-high with the same material. A niche in the cabinet nearest the triclinium contained a small image, a gold vase, a [92]gold coin, and twelve bronze medals of the reign of Vespasian; and near this spot were found eight small bronze columns, which appear to have formed part of a bed.

In the adjoining lane four skeletons were found, apparently a female attended by three slaves; the tenant perhaps of this elegant apartment. Beside her was a round plate of silver, which probably was a mirror, together with several golden rings set with engraved stones, two ear-rings, and five bracelets of the same metal.

Both cabinets had glazed windows, which commanded a view of the court and of each other; it is conjectured that they were provided with curtains. The court itself presents no trace of pavement, and, therefore, probably served as a garden.

The ground of the wall is black, a color well calculated to set off doubtful complexions to the best advantage, while its sombre aspect is redeemed by a profusion of gold-colored ornament, in the most elegant taste. The columns were painted with the color called sinopis Ponticum, a species of red ochre of brilliant tint. Nearly all the wall of the court between the cabinets is occupied by a large painting of Actæon, from which the house derives one of its names; on either side it is flanked by the representation of a statue on a high pedestal. The centre piece comprises a double action. In one part we see a rocky grotto, in which Diana was bathing when the unwary hunter made his appearance above: in the other he is torn by his own dogs, a severe punishment for an unintentional intrusion. The background represents a wild and mountainous landscape. A painted frieze, and other paintings on the walls, complete the decorations of the portico.

The large apartment was a triclinium for the use of this portion of the house, where the place of the table, and of the beds which surrounded it on three sides, was marked by a mosaic pavement. Over the left-hand portico there was a terrace. The [93]space marked 36 contained the stair which gave access to it, a stove connected probably with the service of the triclinium and other conveniences.

In the centre room is the opening into the tablinum, which probably was only separated from the atrium by curtains (parapetasmata), which might be drawn or undrawn at pleasure. Through the tablinum the pillars of the peristyle and the fountain painted on the garden wall are seen. To the right of the tablinum is the fauces, and on each side of the atrium the alæ are seen, partly shut off, like the tablinum, by handsome draperies. The nearer doors belong to chambers which open into the atrium. Above the colored courses of stucco blocks the walls are painted in the light, almost Chinese style of architecture, which is so common, and a row of scenic masks fills the place of a cornice. The ceiling is richly fretted.

The compluvium also was ornamented with a row of triangular tiles called antefixes, on which a mask or some other object was moulded in relief. Below, lions' heads are placed along the cornice at intervals, forming spouts through which the water was discharged into the impluvium beneath. Part of this cornice, found in the house of which we speak, is well deserving our notice, because it contains, within itself, specimens of three different epochs of art, at which we must suppose the house was first built, and subsequently repaired.

It is made of fine clay, with a lion's head moulded upon it, well designed, and carefully finished. It is plain, therefore, that it was not meant to be stuccoed, or the labor bestowed in its execution would have been in great part wasted. At a later period it has been coated over with the finest stucco, and additional enrichments and mouldings have been introduced, yet without injury to the design or inferiority in the workmanship; indicating that at the time of its execution the original simplicity of art had given way to a more enriched and elaborate style of [94]ornament, yet without any perceptible decay, either in the taste of the designer or the skill of the workman.

Still later this elegant stucco cornice had been covered with a third coating of the coarsest materials, and of design and execution most barbarous, when it is considered how fine a model the artists had before their eyes.

In the restoration, the impluvium is surrounded with a mosaic border. This has disappeared, if ever there was one; but mosaics are frequently found in this situation, and it is, therefore, at all events, an allowable liberty to place one here, in a house so distinguished for the richness and elegance of its decorations.

Beside the impluvium stood a machine, now in the National Museum, for heating water, and at the same time warming the room if requisite. The high circular part, with the lid open, is a reservoir, communicating with the semi-circular piece, which is hollow, and had a spout to discharge the heated water. The three eagles placed on it are meant to support a kettle. The charcoal was contained in the square base.

In the preceding pages we have taken indiscriminately, from all quarters of the town, houses of all classes, from the smallest to the most splendid, in the belief that such would be the best way of showing the gradations of wealth and comfort, the different styles of dwelling adopted by different classes of citizens, in proportion to their means. It would, however, be manifestly impossible so to classify all the houses which contain something worthy of description, and we shall, therefore, adopt a topographical arrangement as the simplest one, commencing at the Gate of Herculaneum, and proceeding in as regular order as circumstances will permit through the excavated part of the town.

Most of the houses immediately about the gate appear to have been small inns or eating-houses, probably used chiefly by country people, who came into market, or by the lower order of travelers. Immediately to the right of it, however, at the [95]beginning of the street called the Via Consularis, or Domitiana, there is a dwelling of a better class, called the House of the Musician, from paintings of musical instruments which ornamented the walls. Among these were the sistrum, trumpet, double flute, and others. Upon the right side of the street, however, the buildings soon improve, and in that quarter are situated some of the most remarkable mansions, in respect of extent and construction, which Pompeii affords. They stand in part upon the site of the walls which have been demolished upon this, the side next the port, for what purpose it is not very easy to say; not to make room for the growth of the city, for these houses stand at the very limit of the available ground, being partly built upon a steep rock. Hence, besides the upper floors, which have perished, they consist each of two or three stories, one below another, so that the apartments next the street are always on the highest level. Those who are familiar with the metropolis of Scotland will readily call to mind a similar mode of construction very observable on the north side of the High Street, where the ground-floor is sometimes situated about the middle of the house.

One of the most remarkable of these houses contains three stories; the first, level with the street, contains the public part of the house, the vestibule, atrium, and tablinum, which opens upon a spacious terrace. Beside these is the peristyle and other private apartments, at the back of which the terrace of which we have just spoken offers an agreeable walk for the whole breadth of the house, and forms the roof of a spacious set of apartments at a lower level, which are accessible either by a sloping passage from the street, running under the atrium, or by a staircase communicating with the peristyle. This floor contains baths, a triclinium, a spacious saloon, and other rooms necessary for the private use of a family. Behind these rooms is another terrace, which overlooks a spacious court surrounded by porticoes, and containing a piscina or reservoir in the centre. The pillars on the side next [96]the house are somewhat higher than on the other three sides, so as to give the terrace there a greater elevation. Below this second story there is yet a third, in part under ground, which contains another set of baths, and, besides apartments for other purposes, the lodging of the slaves. This was divided into little cells, scarcely the length of a man, dark and damp; and we can not enter into it without a lively feeling of the wretched state to which these beings were reduced.

A few steps further on the same side, is another house somewhat of the same description, which evidently belonged to some man of importance, probably to Julius Polybius, whose name has been found in several inscriptions. Fragments of richly-gilt stucco-work enable us to estimate the richness of its decoration and the probable wealth of its owner. It will be readily distinguished by its immense Corinthian atrium, or rather peristyle. It has the further peculiarity of having two vestibules each communicating with the street and with the atrium. The portico of the atrium is formed by arcades and piers, ornamented with attached columns, the centre being occupied by a court and fountain. These arcades appear to be enclosed by windows. Square holes, worked in the marble coping of a dwarf wall which surrounds the little court, were perfectly distinguishable, and it is concluded that they were meant to receive the window-frames.

Pliny the Younger describes a similar glazed portico at his Laurentine villa; and an antique painting, representing the baths of Faustina, gives the view of a portico, the apertures of which are entirely glazed, as we suppose them to have been here. The portico, and three apartments which communicate with it, were paved in mosaic. Attached to one of the corner piers there is a fountain. The kitchen and other apartments were below this floor. There was also an upper story, as is clear from the remains of stair-cases. This house extends to the point at which a by-street turns away from the main road to the Forum. We [97]will now return to the gate, to describe the triangular island of houses which bounds the main street on the eastern side.

That close to the gate, called the House of the Triclinium, derives its name from a large triclinium in the centre of the peristyle, which is spacious and handsome, and bounded by the city walls. The House of the Vestals is a little further on. What claim it has to this title, except by the rule of contraries, we are at a loss to guess; seeing that the style of its decorations is very far from corresponding with that purity of thought and manners which we are accustomed to associate with the title of vestal. The paintings are numerous and beautiful, and the mosaics remarkably fine. Upon the threshold here, as in several other houses, we find the word "Salve" (Welcome), worked in mosaic. One may be seen in cut on page 30.

We enter by a vestibule, divided into three compartments, and ornamented with four attached columns, which introduces us to an atrium, fitted up in the usual manner, and surrounded by the usual apartments. The most remarkable of these is a triclinium, which formerly was richly paved with glass mosaics. Hence we pass into the private apartments, which are thus described by Bonucci:—"This house seems to have been originally two separate houses, afterwards, probably, bought by some rich man, and thrown into one. After traversing a little court, around which are the sleeping chambers, and that destined to business, we hastened to render our visit to the Penates. We entered the pantry, and rendered back to the proprietors the greeting that, from the threshold of this mansion, they still direct to strangers. We next passed through the kitchen and its dependencies. The corn-mills seemed waiting for the accustomed hands to grind with them, after so many years of repose. Oil standing in glass vessels, chestnuts, dates, raisins, and figs, in the next chamber, announce the provision for the approaching winter, and large amphoræ of wine recall to us the consulates of Cæsar and of Cicero.

[98]

"We entered the private apartment. Magnificent porticoes are to be seen around it. Numerous beautiful columns covered with stucco, and with very fresh colors, surrounded a very agreeable garden, a pond, and a bath. Elegant paintings, delicate ornaments, stags, sphinxes, wild and fanciful flowers everywhere cover the walls. The cabinets of young girls, and their toilets, with appropriate paintings, are disposed along the sides. In this last were found a great quantity of female ornaments, such as seen in the cut, and others, and the skeleton of a little dog. At the extremity is seen a semicircular room adorned with niches, and formerly with statues, mosaics, and marbles. An altar, on which the sacred fire burned perpetually, rose in the centre. This is the sacrarium. In this secret and sacred place the most solemn and memorable days of the family were spent in rejoicing; and here, on birthdays, sacrifices were offered to Juno, or the Genius, the protector of the new-born child."

[99]The next house is called the House of a Surgeon, because a variety of surgical instruments were found in it. In number they amounted to forty; some resembled instruments still in use, others are different from anything employed by modern surgeons. In many the description of Celsus is realized, as, for instance, in the specillum, or probe, which is concave on one side and flat on the other; the scalper excisorius, in the shape of a lancet-point on one side and of a mallet on the other; a hook and forceps, used in obstetrical practice. The latter are said to equal in the convenience and ingenuity of their construction the best efforts of modern cutlers. Needles, cutting compasses (circini excisorii), and other instruments were found, all of the purest brass with bronze handles, and usually enclosed in brass or boxwood cases.

There is nothing remarkable in the house itself, which contains the usual apartments, atrium, peristyle, etc., except the paintings. These consist chiefly of architectural designs, combinations of golden and bronze-colored columns placed in perspective, surmounted by rich architraves, elaborate friezes, and decorated cornices, one order above another. Intermixed are arabesque ornaments, grotesque paintings, and compartments with figures, all apparently employed in domestic occupations.

One of them represents a female figure carrying rolls of papyrus to a man who is seated and intently reading. The method of reading these rolls or volumes, which were written in transverse columns across the breadth of the papyrus, is clearly shown here. Behind him a young woman is seated, playing on the harp. All these figures are placed under the light architectural designs above described, which seem intended to surmount a terrace. It is a common practice at the present day in Italy, especially near Naples, to construct light treillages on the tops of the houses, where the inhabitants enjoy the evening breeze, al fresco, in the same way as is represented in these paintings.

The peristyle is small, but in good preservation. Its [100]inter-columniations are filled up by a dwarf wall painted red, the lower part of the columns being painted blue. This house runs through the island from one street to the other. Adjoining it, on the south, is the custom-house, telonium. Here a wide entrance admits us into an ample chamber, where many scales were found, and among them a steelyard, statera, much resembling those now in use, but more richly and tastefully ornamented.

Many weights of lead and marble were found here; one with the inscription, "Eme et habebis" (Buy and you shall have), also scales. Near the custom-house is a soap manufactory. In the first room were heaps of lime, the admirable quality of which has excited the wonder of modern plasterers. In an inner room are the soap-vats, placed on a level with the ground.

Besides these, the block contains three houses which have been distinguished by names, the House of Isis and Osiris, the House of Narcissus, and the House of the Female Dancers. Of these the latter is remarkable for the beauty of the paintings which adorn its Tuscan atrium.

Among them are four very elegant figures of female dancers, from which the name given to the house is taken. Another represents a figure reposing on the border of a clear lake, surrounded by villas and palaces, on the bosom of which a flock of ducks and wild-fowl are swimming. The house of Narcissus is distinguished by the elegance of its peristyle; the inter-columniations are filled up by a dwarf wall, which is hollowed at the top, [101]probably to receive earth for the cultivation of select flowers. Our materials do not admit of a fuller description of the houses in this quarter.

Passing onwards from the House of Sallust, the next island to the south, separated from it by a narrow lane, affords nothing remarkable, except the shop of a baker, to the details of which, in conjunction with the art of dyeing, we purpose to devote a separate chapter. It is terminated in a sharp point by the fountain before mentioned. The disposition of the streets and houses everywhere is most unsymmetrical, but here it is remarkably so, even for Pompeii. Just by the house with the double vestibule the main street divides into two, inclined to each other at a very acute angle, which form, together with a third cross street of more importance, called the Strada delle Terme, or Street of the Baths, another small triangular island.

The house of the apex was an apothecary's shop. A great many drugs, glasses, and vials of the most singular forms, were found here; in some of the latter fluids were yet remaining. In particular one large glass vase is to be mentioned, capable of holding two gallons, in which was a gallon and a half of a reddish liquid, said to be balsam. On being opened, the contents began to evaporate very fast, and it was, therefore, closed hermetically. About an inch in depth of the contents has been thus lost, leaving on the sides of the vessel a sediment, reaching up to the level to which it was formerly filled. The right-hand street leads to buildings entirely in ruins, the left-hand one, which is a continuation of the Via Consularis, or Domitiana, conducts us towards the Forum.

Immediately to the eastward of the district just described is the House of Pansa, which occupies a whole block. The block between it and the city walls, on the north, offers nothing remarkable. Beyond, still to the east, is a block separated from it by a narrow street, called the Via della Fullonica, and bounded on the [102]other side by the Street of Mercury, which runs in a straight line from the walls nearly to the Forum. This block contains, besides several private houses of great beauty, the Fullonica, or establishment for the fulling and dyeing of woolen cloths. This, together with the bake-house above mentioned, will be described further on.

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[103]

House of Holconius.

Passing on the insula or block, bounded on the north by the Street of Holconius, on the south by the Street of Isis, on the west by the Street of the Theatres, and on the east by that of Stabiæ, we find two remarkable houses excavated within the last few years. That at the northern corner of the street of the Theatres, numbered 4 on the entrance, is sometimes called the House of Holconius. The two stores which precede it, numbered 2 and 3, seem to have been the property of the master of the house, and communicate with each other. A third shop, numbered 1, at the angle of the street, appears to have been occupied by a dyer, and is called Taberna Offectoris. On the front of the house were some inscriptions for electioneering purposes.

The pilasters on either side of the main entrance are painted red to about the height of a man, beyond which they are of white plaster. On entering the prothyrum may be observed a large hole in the wall, destined for the reception of the repagulum, or strong wooden bar with which the door was secured. The door appears, from the places for bolts on the threshold, to have been composed of two pieces (bifora). The walls of the prothyrum are painted black, with a red podium, divided into three compartments by green and yellow lines, in the middle of which are an aquatic bird, perhaps an ibis, a swan with spread wings, and an ornament that can not be made out. Towards the top the walls are painted with fantastic pieces of architecture on a white ground; amidst which, on one side, is a nymph descending [104]apparently from heaven. She has a golden-colored vest, on her shoulders is a veil agitated by the breeze, and she bears in her hand a large dish filled with fruits and herbs. On the other side was a similar figure, playing on the lyre, with a sky-blue vest and rose-colored veil that fluttered about her. The remaining architectural paintings contained little winged Cupids, one holding a cornucopia, another a drum, and two with baskets of fruits and flowers. These were the good geniuses, which, by being depicted at the entrance of a house, repelled all evil influences and rendered it a joyful abode.

The pavement of the Tuscan atrium is variegated with small pieces of white marble placed in rows. The impluvium in the middle appears to have been under repair, as it is stripped of its marble lining. The walls of the atrium are painted red, with vertical black zones like pilasters, or antæ, besides lines and ornaments of various colors. On the wall to the left of the entrance is painted a recumbent Silenus, crowned with ivy, and pressing in his arms the little Bacchus, who in alarm is endeavoring to escape from his embraces. Near it, on a yellow ground, is the bearded head of a man, with two claws projecting from his temples like horns, and a beard floating as if it was in the water. It may probably be a mask of Oceanus, who is represented on coins of Agrigentum in a somewhat similar manner. Under the head is the figure of a hippocampus.

Many objects were found in this atrium, some at the height of four or five yards from the floor, which must consequently have fallen in from the upper stories; and others on the pavement itself. But one of the most important discoveries was the skeleton of a woman, near the entrance of the tablinum. She appears to have been in the act of flight, and had with her a small box containing her valuables and nick-nacks. Among the most curious of these was a necklace composed of amulets, or charms, which, it will be observed, are all attributes of Isis and her [105]attendant, Anubis, or of her husband Osiris, here considered as Bacchus. The mystic articles kept in the Isiac coffer were, says Eusebius, a ball, dice, (turbo) wheel, mirror, lock of wool.

The first bed-chamber on the right of the atrium communicated with the store No. 3, and was probably occupied by the slave who conducted the business of it. The first bed-chamber on the left had a similar communication with the store outside.

There are few houses in Pompeii in which the paintings are more numerous or better preserved than in that which we are examining. The second bed-chamber on the right has several. In this room may be observed a space hollowed in the wall to receive the foot of a bed or coutch. The walls are white, with [106]a red podium, and are surmounted by a cornice from which springs the vault. The upper part is painted with lines, between which are depicted griffins in repose, baskets with thyrsi, branches of herbs, and other objects.

The lower part of the walls is divided into larger compartments by candelabra supporting little globes. In each compartment are eight small pictures, representing the heads and busts of Bacchic personages, in a very good state of preservation. On the left is Bacchus, crowned with ivy, his head covered with the mitra, a sort of veil of fine texture which descends upon his left shoulder. This ornament, as well as the cast of his features, reveals the half feminine nature of the deity. Opposite to him is the picture of Ariadne, also crowned with ivy, clothed in a green chiton and a violet himation. She presses to her bosom the infant Iacchus, crowned with the eternal ivy, and bearing in his hand the thyrsus. Then follow Bacchic or Panic figures, some conversing, some drinking together, some moving apparently in the mazes of the dance. Paris, with the Phrygian cap and crook, seems to preside over this voluptuous scene, and to listen to a little Cupid seated on his shoulder.

In the chamber on the opposite side of the atrium, fronting that just described, were also four pictures, two of which are destroyed, the walls having apparently been broken through, not long after the destruction of Pompeii, by persons in search of their buried property. Of the other two, which are almost effaced, one represents an aged Faun, holding in his hands a thyrsus and a vase; the other a young woman conversing with an African slave. A wooden chest seems to have stood close to the left-hand wall.

The left ala, or wing, has its walls painted in yellow and red compartments, with a black podium. In the middle of each was a valuable painting, but these, with the exception of the greater part of one fronting the entrance, have been almost [107]destroyed. The one saved represents Apollo, who has overtaken Daphne, and is clasping her in his arms, while the nymph, who has fallen on her knees, repels the embraces of the deity. A malicious little Cupid, standing on tiptoes, draws aside the golden-tissued veil which covered the nymph, and displays her naked form. On the left of the same apartment is a picture, almost effaced, of Perseus and Andromeda; and on the right another with three male figures, of which only the lower part remains.

The right ala, which, however, from its capability of being closed with a door, does not properly come under that denomination, seems, from various culinary utensils of metal and earthenware found in it, to have served as a kitchen, or rather perhaps as a store-closet.

The tablinum, opposite the entrance, and, as usual, without any enclosure on the side of the atrium, has a small marble threshold, and on its floor little squares of colored marbles surrounded with a mosaic border. The yellow walls, divided into compartments by vertical stripes of red, white, and black, were beautifully ornamented with the usual architectural designs and flying figures. On each side were two larger pictures, of which only that on the left of the spectator remains. It represents Leda showing to Tyndareus a nest containing the two boys produced from the egg. A stucco cornice runs round the wall, above which a flying nymph is painted on a white ground, between two balconies, from which a man and woman are looking down. There are also figures of sphinxes, goats, etc.

A wooden staircase on the left of the tablinum, the first step being of stone, led to the floor above. On the right is the passage called fauces, leading to the peristyle. On its left-hand side, near the ground, was a rudely traced figure of a gladiator, with an inscription above, of which only the first letters, PRIMI, remain. On the left wall of the fauces, near the extremity, and level with the eye, is another inscription, or graffito, in small [108]characters, difficult to be deciphered from the unusual nexus of the letters, but which the learned have supposed to express the design of an invalid to get rid of the pains in his limbs by bathing them in water.

At the extremity of the fauces, on the right, there is an entrance to a room which has also another door leading into the portico of the peristyle. The walls are painted black and red, and in the compartments are depicted birds, animals, fruits, etc. Two skeletons were found in this room. In the apartment to the left, or east of the tablinum, of which the destination can not be certainly determined, the walls are also painted black, with architectural designs in the middle, and figures of winged Cupids variously employed. On the larger walls are two paintings, of which that on the right represents the often-repeated subject of Ariadne, who, just awakened from sleep, and supported by a female figure with wings, supposed to be Nemesis, views with an attitude of grief and stupor the departing ship of Theseus, already far from Naxos. On the left side is a picture of Phryxus, crossing the sea on the ram and stretching out his arms to Helle, who has fallen over and appears on the point of drowning. The form of this chamber, twice as long as it is broad, its vicinity to the kitchen, and the window, through which the slaves might easily convey the viands, appear to show that it was a triclinium, or dining-room.

The floor, which is lower by a step than the peristyle, is paved with opus Signinum, and ornamented only at one end with a mosaic. On one of the walls, about ten feet from the floor, is the graffito, Sodales Avete (Welcome Comrades), which could have been inscribed there only by a person, probably a slave, mounted on a bench or a ladder.

The viridarium, or xystus, surrounded with spacious porticoes, was once filled with the choicest flowers, and refreshed by the grateful murmur of two fountains. One of these in the [109]middle of the peristyle is square, having in its centre a sort of round table from which the water gushed forth. The other fountain, which faces the tablinum, is composed of a little marble staircase, surmounted by the statue of a boy having in his right hand a vase from which the water spirted, and under his left arm a goose. The statue is rather damaged.

Many objects were found in the peristyle, mostly of the kind usually discovered in Pompeian houses. Among them was an amphora, having the following epigraph in black paint:

COUM. GRAN.
OF.
ROMÆ. ATERIO. FELICI.

which has been interpreted to mean that it contained Coan wine flavored with pomegranate, and that it came from Rome, from the stores of Aterius Felix.

The portico is surrounded by strong columns, and seems to have had a second order resting on the first, as may be inferred from some indications to the right of him who enters from the fauces. The walls are painted red and black, with architectural designs, candelabra, meanders, birds, winged Cupids, etc. There are also fourteen small pictures enclosed in red lines, eight of which represent landscapes and sea-shores, with fishermen, and the other six fruits and eatables. On the wall on the right side is the following graffito, or inscription, scratched with some sharp instrument:

IIX. ID. IVL. AXVNGIA. PCC.
ALIV. MANVPLOS. CCL.

That is: "On the 25th July, hog's lard, two hundred pounds, Garlic, two hundred bunches." It seems, therefore, to be a domestic memorandum of articles either bought or sold.

Around the portico are several rooms, all having marble thresholds, and closed by doors turning on bronze hinges. On [110]the right hand of the peristyle, near the entrance, is a private door, or posticum, leading into the Street of the Theatres, by which the master of the house might escape his importunate clients.

The rooms at the sides of the peristyle offer nothing remarkable, but the three chambers opposite to the tablinum are of considerable size, and contain some good pictures. The first on the right has two figures of Nereids traversing the sea, one on a sea-bull the other on a hippocampus. Both the monsters are guided by a Cupid with reins and whip, and followed by dolphins. Another painting opposite the entrance is too much effaced to be made out. The same wall has a feature not observed in any other Pompeian house, namely, a square aperture of rather more than a foot reaching down to the floor, and opening upon an enclosed place with a canal or drain for carrying off the water of the adjoining houses. It seems also to have been a receptacle for lamps, several of which were found there.

Adjoining this room is a large exedra with a little impluvium in the middle, which seems to indicate an aperture in the roof, a construction hitherto found only in atria. The absence of any channels in the floor for conducting water seems to show that it could not have been a fountain. This exedra is remarkable for its paintings. In the wall in front is depicted Narcissus with a javelin in his hand, leaning over a rock and admiring himself in the water, in which his image is reflected; but great part of the painting is destroyed. A little Cupid is extinguishing his torch in the stream. In the background is a building with an image of the bearded Bacchus; and near it a terminal figure of Priapus Ithyphallicus, with grapes and other fruits. This picture was much damaged in the process of excavation.

On the left wall is a painting of a naked Hermaphroditus. In his right hand is a little torch reversed; his left arm rests on the shoulders of Silenus, who appears to accompany his songs on the lyre, whilst a winged Cupid sounds the double flute. On the [111]other side is a Bacchante with a thyrsus and tambourine, and near her a little Satyr, who also holds a torch reversed.

But the best picture in this apartment is that representing Ariadne discovered by Bacchus. A youthful figure with wings, supposed to represent Sleep, stands at Ariadne's head, and seems to indicate that she is under his influence. Meanwhile a little Faun lifts the veil that covers her, and with an attitude indicating surprise at her beauty, turns to Bacchus and seems to invite him to contemplate her charms. The deity himself, crowned with ivy and berries, clothed in a short tunic and a pallium agitated by the breeze, holds in his right hand the thyrsus, and lifts his left in token of admiration. In the background a Bacchante sounds her tympanum, and invites the followers of the god to descend from the mountains. These, preceded by Silenus, obey the summons; one is playing the double flute, another sounding the cymbals, a third bears on her head a basket of fruit. A Faun and a Bacchante, planted on a mountain on the left, survey the scene from a distance.

The adjoining triclinium, entered by a door from the exedra, had also three paintings, one of which however is almost destroyed. Of the remaining two, that on the left represents Achilles discovered by Ulysses among the damsels of Lycomedes. The subject of that on the right is the Judgment of Paris. It is more remarkable for its spirit and coloring than for the accuracy of its drawing. This apartment has also six medallions with heads of Bacchic personages.

In the same block as the house just described, and having its entrance in the same street, stands the house of Cornelius Rufus. It is a handsome dwelling, but as its plan and decorations have nothing to distinguish them from other Pompeian houses, we forbear to describe them. The only remarkable feature in this excavation was the discovery of a Hermes at the bottom of the atrium on the left, on which was a marble bust of the [112]owner, as large as life and well executed, having his name inscribed beneath.

Not far from the houses just described, in the Street of Stabiæ, at the angle formed by the street leading to the amphitheatre, stands the House of Apollo Citharœdus, excavated in 1864. It derives its name from a fine bronze statue, as large as life, of Apollo sounding the lyre, which was found there, but has now been placed in the Museum at Naples. In this house the tablinum and a peristyle beyond are on a higher level than the atrium; consequently the fauces, or passage leading to the latter, ascends. In the peristyle is a semicircular fountain, on the margin of which were disposed several animals in bronze, representing a hunting scene. In the centre was a wild boar in flight attacked by two dogs; at the sides were placed a lion, a stag, and a serpent. These animals, arranged in the same way in which they were found, are now preserved in the Museum.

Adjoining the House of Lucretius are several stores. That next door but one appears to have belonged to a chemist or color-maker. On the right of the atrium is a triple furnace, constructed for the reception of three large cauldrons at different levels, which were reached by steps. The house contained a great quantity of carbonized drugs. At the sides of the entrance were two stores for the sale of the manufactured articles. In one of these stores was discovered, some yards below the old level of the soil, the skeleton of a woman with two bracelets of gold, two of silver, four ear-rings, five rings, forty-seven gold, and one hundred and ninety-seven silver coins, in a purse of netted gold.

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[113]

General Survey of the City.

Proceeding southward along the Street of Mercury, we pass under the triumphal arch of Nero, and crossing the transverse street which leads towards the Gate of Nola, enter the Street of the Forum, a continuation of the Street of Mercury, leading straight to the triumphal arch at the north end of the Forum, and bounding the island of the Baths on the eastern side. This street is one of the most spacious in Pompeii. A long list of articles was found here in the course of excavation. One of the houses about the centre of the street nearly opposite the entrance to the Thermæ, is of more consequence than the rest, and has been named the House of Bacchus, from a large painting of that god on a door opposite to the entry. Channels for the introduction of water were found in the atrium, which has been surrounded by a small trough, formed to contain flowers, the outer side of which is painted blue, to imitate water, with boats floating upon it. The wall behind this is painted with pillars, between which are balustrades of various forms. Cranes and other birds perch upon these, and there is a back ground of reeds and other vegetables, above which the sky is visible. The greater portion of the eastern side of the street is occupied by a row of shops with a portico in front of them. It is flanked on either side by footpaths, and must have presented a noble appearance when terminated by triumphal arches at either end, and overlooked by the splendid Temple of Jupiter and that of Fortune elevated on its lofty basis.

[114]It is to be noticed that the last-named edifice does not stand symmetrically either with the Street of the Forum or with the Street of the Baths running past the House of the Pansa. "The portico," we quote again from Gell, "is turned a little towards the Forum, and the front of the temple is so contrived that a part of it might be seen also from the other street. It is highly probable that these circumstances are the result of design rather than of chance. The Greeks seem to have preferred the view of a magnificent building from a corner, and there is scarcely a right-angled plan to be found either in ancient or modern Italy." In the Street of the Forum has been established a temporary museum of articles found in Pompeii. Adjoining it is a library containing all the best works that have been written on the city.

The street running westward between the baths and the Forum presents nothing remarkable, except that in it are the signs of the milk-shop and school of gladiators. There is also an [115]altar, probably dedicated to Jupiter, placed against the wall of a house; above it is a bass-relief in stucco, with an eagle in the tympanum. Eastward of the Forum this street assumes the name of the Street of Dried Fruits, from an inscription showing that dried fruits were sold in it; and, indeed, a considerable quantity of figs, raisins, chestnuts, plums, hempseed, and similar articles were found. It is now, however, usually called the Street of the Augustals.

Near the point at which this street is intersected by that of Eumachia, running at the back of the east side of the Forum, there is a remarkably graceful painting of a youthful Bacchus pressing the juice of the grape into a vase placed upon a pillar, at the foot of which is a rampant animal expecting the liquor, apparently meant for a tiger or panther, but of very diminutive size. This picture is one foot five inches high and one foot two inches wide. It probably served for the sign of a wine-merchant. Corresponding with it, on the other side of the shop, is a painting of Mercury, to render that knavish god propitious to the owner's trade.

We will now proceed to the Street of Abundance, or of the Merchants, formerly called the Street of the Silversmiths. This is about twenty-eight feet wide, and bordered on each side by foot-paths about six feet wide, which are described as made in several places of a hard plaster, probably analogous to opus Signinum. At the end next the Forum it is blocked up by two steps, which deny access to wheel carriages, and is in other parts so much encumbered by large stepping-stones that the passage of such vehicles, if not prohibited, must have been difficult and inconvenient.

We may here take notice of a peculiarity in this street. It slopes with a very gentle descent away from the Forum, and the courses of masonry, instead of being laid horizontally, run [116]parallel to the slope of the ground, a unique instance, as we believe, of such a construction.

The doors of several shops in this street have left perfect impressions on the volcanic deposit, by which it appears that the planks of which they were made lapped one over the other, like the planks of a boat.

Although the houses that line this street have now been cleared, there still remains a large unexcavated space on its southern side. The only house requiring notice is that called the Casa del Cinghiale, or House of the Wild Boar, a little way down on the right-hand side in going from the Forum. Its name is derived from the mosaic pavement of the prothyrum, representing a boar attacked by two dogs. The house is remarkable for its well-preserved peristyle of fourteen Ionic columns, with their capitals. On the right is a brick staircase leading to a large garden. The atrium is bordered with a mosaic representing the walls of a city with towers and battlements, supposed by some to be the walls of Pompeii.

Just beyond this house is a small street or lane, turning down to the right, called the Vicolo dei Dodici Dei, from a painting on the outside wall of the corner house, in the manner of a frieze, representing the twelve greater divinities. Below is the usual painting of serpents. At the corner of the quadrivium is the apothecary's shop, in which was a large collection of surgical instruments, mortars, drugs, and pills. The house is not otherwise remarkable.

Of the early excavations at the southern extremity of the town few records are preserved. In the Quarter of the Theatres, besides the public buildings, there are but two houses of any interest. These occupy the space between the Temple of Æsculapius and the small theatre. The easternmost of them is one of the most interesting yet discovered in Pompeii, not for the beauty or curiosity of the building itself, but for its contents, which prove [117]it to have been the abode of a sculptor. Here were found statues, some half finished, others just begun, with blocks of marble, and all the tools required by the artist. Among these were thirty-two mallets, many compasses, curved and straight, a great quantity of chisels, three or four levers, jacks for raising blocks, saws, etc., etc. The house has the usual arrangement of atrium, tablinum, and peristyle, but, owing to the inclination of the ground, the peristyle is on a higher level than the public part of the house, and communicates with it by a flight of steps. A large reservoir for water extended under the peristyle, which was in good preservation when first found, but has been much injured by the failure of the vault beneath.

Returning by the southernmost of the two roads which lead to the Forum, we find, beside the wall of the triangular Forum as it is called, one of the most remarkable houses in Pompeii, if not for its size, at least for its construction.

The excavations here made were begun in April, 1769, in the presence of the Emperor Joseph II., after whom this house has been named; but after curiosity was satisfied, they were filled up again with rubbish, as was then usual, and vines and poplars [118]covered them almost entirely at the time when Mazois examined the place, insomuch that the underground stories were all that he could personally observe. The emperor was accompanied in his visit by his celebrated minister, Count Kaunitz, the King and Queen of Naples, and one or two distinguished antiquaries. This was one of the first private dwellings excavated at Pompeii. It appears to have been a mansion of considerable magnificence, and, from its elevated position, must have commanded a fine view over the Bay of Naples towards Sorrento. The "find" was so good on the occasion of the emperor's visit, as to excite his suspicion of some deceit. The numerous articles turned up afforded Sir W. Hamilton an opportunity to display his antiquarian knowledge. Joseph appears to have been rather disgusted on hearing that only thirty men were employed on the excavations, and insisted that three thousand were necessary. We give a cut of the house, page 119.

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FOOTNOTES:

[119]

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[120]

AMUSEMENTS.ToC

The amphitheatre stands some hundred yards from the theatres, in the south-eastern angle of the walls of the town. Although, perhaps, of Etruscan origin, the exhibitions of the amphitheatre are so peculiarly Roman, and Pompeii contains so many mementos of them, that a detailed account of them will not perhaps be misplaced. At an early period, B.C. 263, the practice of compelling human beings to fight for the amusement of spectators was introduced; and twelve years later the capture of several elephants in the first Punic war proved the means of introducing the chase, or rather the slaughter, of wild beasts into the Roman circus. The taste for these spectacles increased of course with its indulgence, and their magnificence with the wealth of the city and the increasing facility and inducement to practice bribery which was offered by the increased extent of provinces subject to Rome. It was not, however, until the last period of the republic, or rather until the domination of the emperors had collected into one channel the tributary wealth which previously was divided among a numerous aristocracy, that buildings were erected solely for the accommodation of gladiatorial shows; buildings entirely beyond the compass of a subject's wealth, and in which perhaps the magnificence of imperial Rome is most amply [121]displayed. Numerous examples scattered throughout her empire, in a more or less advanced state of decay, still attest the luxury and solidity of their construction; while at Rome the Coliseum (see frontispiece) asserts the pre-eminent splendor of the metropolis—a monument surpassed in magnitude by the Pyramids alone, and as superior to them in skill and varied contrivance of design as to other buildings in its gigantic magnitude.

The Greek word, which by a slight alteration of its termination we render amphitheatre, signifies a theatre, or place of spectacles, forming a continuous inclosure, in opposition to the simple theatre, which, as we have said, was semicircular, but with the seats usually continued somewhat in advance of the diameter of the semicircle. The first amphitheatre seems to have been that of Curio, consisting of two movable theatres, which could be placed face to face or back to back, according to the species of amusement for which they were required.

Usually, gladiatorial shows were given in the Forum, and [122]the chase and combats of wild beasts exhibited in the Circus, where once, when Pompey was celebrating games, some enraged elephants broke through the barrier which separated them from the spectators. This circumstance, together with the unsuitableness of the Circus for such sports, from its being divided into two compartments by the spina, a low wall surmounted by pillars, obelisks, and other ornamental erections, as well as from its disproportionate length, which rendered it ill adapted to afford a general view to all the spectators, determined Julius Cæsar, in his dictatorship, to construct a wooden theatre in the Campus Martius, built especially for hunting, "which was called amphitheatre (apparently the first use of the word) because it was encompassed by circular seats without a scene."

The first permanent amphitheatre was built partly of stone and partly of wood, by Statilius Taurus, at the instigation of Augustus, who was passionately fond of these sports, especially of the hunting of rare beasts. This was burnt during the reign of Nero, and though restored, fell short of the wishes of Vespasian, who commenced the vast structure completed by his son Titus—called the Flavian Amphitheatre, and subsequently the Coliseum. The expense of this building it is said would have sufficed to erect a capital city, and, if we may credit Dion, 9,000 wild beasts were destroyed in its dedication. Eutropius restricts the number to 5,000. When the hunting was over the arena was filled with water, and a sea-fight ensued.

The construction of these buildings so much resembles the construction of theatres, that it will not be necessary to describe them at any great length. Without, they usually presented to the view an oval wall, composed of two or more stories of arcades, supported by piers of different orders of architecture adorned with pilasters or attached pillars. Within, an equal number of stories of galleries gave access to the spectators at different elevations, and the inclined plane of the seats was also supported [123]upon piers and vaults, so that the ground plan presented a number of circular rows of piers, arranged in radii converging to the centre of the arena. A suitable number of doors opened upon the ground floor, and passages from thence, intersecting the circular passages between the piers, gave an easy access to every part of the building. Sometimes a gallery encompassed the whole, and served as a common access to all the stairs which led to the upper stories. This was the case in the amphitheatre at Nismes. Sometimes each staircase had its distinct communication from without: this was the case at Verona.

The arrangement of the seats was the same as in theatres; they were divided horizontally by præcinctiones, and vertically into cunei by staircases. The scene and apparatus of the stage was of course wanting, and its place occupied by an oval area, called arena, from the sand with which it was sprinkled, to absorb the blood shed, and give a firmer footing than that afforded by a stone pavement. It was sunk twelve or fifteen feet below the lowest range of seats, to secure the spectators from injury, and was besides fenced with round wooden rollers turning in their sockets, placed horizontally against the wall, such as the reader may have observed placed on low gates to prevent dogs from climbing over, and with strong nets. In the time of Nero these nets were knotted with amber, and the Emperor Carinus caused them to be made of golden cord or wire. Sometimes, for more complete security, ditches, called euripi, surrounded the arena. This was first done by Cæsar, as a protection to the people against the elephants which he exhibited, that animal being supposed to be particularly afraid of water. The arena was sometimes spread with pounded stone. Caligula, in a fit of extravagance, used chrysocolla; and Nero, to surpass him, caused the brilliant red of cinnabar to be mixed with it.

In the centre of the arena was an altar dedicated sometimes to Diana or Pluto, more commonly to Jupiter Latiaris, the [124]protector of Latium, in honor of whom human sacrifices were offered. Passages are to be found in ancient writers, from which it is inferred that the games of the amphitheatre were usually opened by sacrificing a bestiarius, one of those gladiators whose profession was to combat wild beasts, in honor of this bloodthirsty deity. Beneath the arena dens are supposed to have been constructed to contain wild beasts.

At the Coliseum numerous underground buildings are said by Fulvius to have existed, which he supposed to be sewers constructed to drain and cleanse the building. Others with more probability have supposed them to be the dens of wild beasts. Immense accommodation was requisite to contain the thousands of animals which were slaughtered upon solemn occasions, but no great provision need have been made to carry off the rain-water which fell upon the six acres comprised within the walls of the building. Others again have supposed them formed to introduce the vast bodies of water by which the arena was suddenly transformed into a lake when imitations of naval battles were exhibited. Doors pierced in the wall which supported the podium communicated with these, or with other places of confinement beneath the part allotted to the audience, which being thrown open, vast numbers of animals could be introduced at once. Vopiscus tells us that a thousand ostriches, a thousand stags, and a thousand boars were thrown into the arena at once by the Emperor Probus. Sometimes, to astonish, and attract by novelty, the arena was converted into a wood. "Probus," says the same author, "exhibited a splendid hunting match, after the following manner: Large trees torn up by the roots were firmly connected by beams, and fixed upright; then earth was spread over the roots, so that the whole circus was planted to resemble a wood, and offered us the gratification of a green scene."

The same order of precedence was observed as at the theatre—senators, knights, and commons having each their [125]appropriate place. To the former was set apart the podium, a broad precinction or platform which ran immediately round the arena. Hither they brought the curule seats or bisellia, described in speaking of the theatres of Pompeii; and here was the suggestus, a covered seat appropriated to the Emperor. It is supposed that in this part of the building there were also seats of honor for the exhibitor of the games and the vestal virgins. If the podium was insufficient for the accommodation of the senators, some of the adjoining seats were taken for their use. Next to the senators sat the knights, who seem here, as in the theatre, to have had fourteen rows set apart for them; and with them sat the civil and military tribunes. Behind were the popularia, or seats of the plebeians. Different tribes had particular cunei allotted to them. There were also some further internal arrangements, for Augustus separated married from unmarried men, and assigned a separate cuneus to youths, near whom their tutors were stationed. Women were stationed in a gallery, and attendants and servants in the highest gallery. The general direction of the amphitheatre was under the care of an officer named villicus amphitheatri. Officers called locarii attended to the distribution of the people, and removed any person from a seat which he was not entitled to hold. We may notice, as a refinement of luxury, that concealed conduits were carried throughout these buildings, from which scented liquids were scattered over the audience. Sometimes the statues which ornamented them were applied to this purpose, and seemed to sweat perfume through minute holes, with which the pipes that traversed them were pierced. It is this to which Lucan alludes in the following lines:—

[126]Saffron was the material usually employed for these refreshing showers. The dried herb was infused in wine, more especially in sweet wine. Balsams and the more costly unguents were sometimes employed for the same purpose.

Another contrivance, too remarkable to be omitted in a general account of amphitheatres, is the awning by which spectators were protected from the overpowering heat of an Italian sun. This was called Velum, or Velarium; and it has afforded matter for a good deal of controversy, how a temporary covering could be extended over the vast areas of these buildings. Something of the kind was absolutely necessary, for the spectacle often lasted for many hours, and when anything extraordinary was expected the people went in crowds before daylight to obtain places, and some even at midnight.

The Campanians first invented the means of stretching awnings over their theatres, by means of cords stretched across the cavea and attached to masts which passed through perforated blocks of stone deeply bedded in the wall. Quintus Catulus introduced them at Rome when he celebrated games at the dedication of the Capitol, B.C. 69. Lentulus Spinther, a contemporary of Cicero, first erected fine linen awnings (carbasina vela). Julius Cæsar covered over the whole Forum Romanum, and the Via Sacra, from his own house to the Capitol, which was esteemed even more wonderful than his gladiatorial exhibition. Dio mentions a report that these awnings were of silk, but he speaks doubtfully; and it is scarcely probable that even Cæsar's extravagance would have carried him so far. Silk at that time was not manufactured at Rome; and we learn from Vopiscus, that even in the time of Aurelian the raw material was worth its weight in gold. Lucretius, speaking of the effect of colored bodies upon transmitted light, has a fine passage illustrative of the magnificence displayed in this branch of theatrical decoration.

Wool, however, was the most common material, and the velaria made in Apulia were most esteemed, on account of the whiteness of the wool.

Those who are not acquainted by experience with the difficulty of giving stability to tents of large dimensions, and the greater difficulty of erecting awnings, when, on account of the purpose for which they are intended, no support can be applied in the centre, may not fully estimate the difficulty of erecting and managing these velaria. Strength was necessary, both for the cloth itself and for the cords which strained and supported it, or the whole would have been shivered by the first gust of wind, and strength could not be obtained without great weight. Many of our readers probably are not aware, that however short and light a string may be, no amount of tension applied horizontally will stretch it into a line perfectly and mathematically straight. Practically the deviation is imperceptible where the power applied is very large in proportion to the weight and length of the string. Still it exists; and to take a common example, the reader probably never saw a clothes-line stretched out, though neither the weight nor length of the string are considerable, without the middle being visibly lower than the ends. When the line is at once long and heavy, an enormous power is required to suspend it even in a curve between two points; and the amount of tension, and difficulty of finding materials able to withstand it, are the [128]only obstacles to constructing chain bridges which should be thousands, instead of hundreds of feet in length.

In these erections the piers are raised to a considerable height, that a sufficient depth may be allowed for the curve of the chains without depressing the roadway. Ten times—a hundred times the power which was applied to strain them into that shape would not suffice to bring them even so near to a horizontal line but that the most inaccurate and unobservant eye should at once detect the inequality in their level; and the chains themselves would probably give way before such a force as this could be applied to them. The least diameter of the Coliseum is nearly equal in length to the Menai bridge; and if the labor of stretching cords over the one seems small in comparison with that of raising the ponderous chains of the other, we may take into consideration the weight of cloth which those cords supported, and the increase of difficulties arising from the action of the wind on so extensive a surface.

In boisterous weather, as we learn from Martial and other authors, these difficulties were so great that the velum could not be spread. When this was the case the Romans used broad hats, or a sort of parasol, which was called umbella or umbraculum, from umbra, shade. We may add, in conclusion, that Suctonius mentions as one of Caligula's tyrannical extravagances, that sometimes at a show of gladiators, when the sun's heat was most intense, he would cause the awning to be drawn back, and, at the same time, forbid any person to leave the place.

The difficulty of the undertaking has given rise to considerable discussion as to the means by which the Romans contrived to extend the velum at such a height over so great a surface, and to manage it at pleasure. Sailors were employed in the service, for the Emperor Commodus, who piqued himself on his gladiatorial skill, and used to fight in the arena, believing himself mocked by the servile crowd of spectators, when once they hailed [129]him with divine honors, gave order for their slaughter by the sailors who were managing the veils.

Concerning the method of working them no information has been handed down. It is evident, however, that they were supported by masts which rose above the summit of the walls. Near the top of the outer wall of the Coliseum there are 240 consoles, or projecting blocks of stone, in which holes are cut to receive the ends of spars, which ran up through holes cut in the cornice to some height above the greatest elevation of the building. A sufficient number of firm points of support at equal intervals was thus procured; and, this difficulty being overcome, the next was to stretch as tight as possible the larger ropes, upon which the whole covering depended for its stability.

The games to which these buildings were especially devoted were, as we have already hinted, two-fold—those in which wild beasts were introduced, to combat either with each other or with men, and those in which men fought with men. Under the general term of gladiators are comprised all who fought in the arena, though those who pitted their skill against the strength and ferocity of savage animals were peculiarly distinguished by the name of bestiarii. In general these unhappy persons were slaves or condemned criminals, who, by adopting this profession, purchased an uncertain prolongation of existence, but freemen sometimes gained a desperate subsistence by thus hazarding their lives; and in the decline of Rome, knights, senators, and even the emperors sometimes appeared in the arena, at the instigation of a vulgar and degrading thirst for popular applause.

The origin of these bloody entertainments may be found in the earliest records of profane history and the earliest stages of society. Among half-civilized or savage nations, both ancient and modern, we find it customary after a battle to sacrifice prisoners of war in honor of those chiefs who have been slain. Thus Achilles offers up twelve young Trojans to the ghost of [130]Patroclus. In course of time it became usual to sacrifice slaves at the funeral of all persons of condition; and either for the amusement of the spectators, or because it appeared barbarous to massacre defenceless men, arms were placed in their hands, and they were incited to save their own lives by the death of those who were opposed to them.

In later times, the furnishing these unhappy men became matter of speculation, and they were carefully trained to the profession of arms, to increase the reputation and popularity of the contractor who provided them. This person was called lanista by the Romans. At first these sports were performed about the funeral pile of the deceased, or near his sepulchre, in consonance with the idea of sacrifice in which they originated; but as they became more splendid, and ceased to be peculiarly appropriated to such occasions, they were removed, originally to the Forum, and afterwards to the Circus and amphitheatres.

Gladiators were first exhibited at Rome, B.C. 265, by M. and D. Brutus, on occasion of the death of their father. This show consisted only of three pairs. B.C. 216, the three sons of M. Æmilius Lepidus, the augur, entertained the people in the Forum with eleven pair, and the show lasted three days. B.C. 201, the three sons of M. Valerius Lævinus exhibited twenty-five pairs. And thus these shows increased in number and frequency, and the taste for them strengthened with its gratification, until not only the heir of any rich or eminent person lately deceased, but all the principal magistrates, and the candidates for magistracies, presented the people with shows of this nature to gain their favor and support.

This taste was not without its inconveniences and dangers. Men of rank and political importance kept families, as they were called, of gladiators—desperadoes ready to execute any command of their master; and towards the fall of the republic, when party rage scrupled not to have recourse to open violence, questions of [131]the highest import were debated in the streets of the city by the most despised of its slaves. In the conspiracy of Catiline so much danger was apprehended from them, that particular measures were taken to prevent their joining the disaffected party; an event the more to be feared because of the desperate war in which they had engaged the republic a few years before, under the command of the celebrated Spartacus. At a much later period, at the triumph of Probus, A.D. 281, about fourscore gladiators exhibited a similar courage. Disdaining to shed their blood for the amusement of a cruel people, they killed their keepers, broke out from the place of their confinement, and filled the streets of Rome with blood and confusion. After an obstinate resistance they were cut to pieces by the regular troops.

The oath which they took upon entering the service is preserved by Petronius, and is couched in these terms: "We swear, after the dictation of Eumolpus, to suffer death by fire, bonds, stripes, and the sword; and whatever else Eumolpus may command, as true gladiators we bind ourselves body and mind to our master's service."

From slaves and freedmen the inhuman sport at length spread to persons of rank and fortune, insomuch that Augustus was obliged to issue an edict, that none of senatorial rank should become gladiators; and soon after he laid a similar restraint on the knights.

Succeeding emperors, according to their characters, encouraged or endeavored to suppress this degrading taste. Nero is related to have brought upwards of four hundred senators and six hundred knights upon the arena; and in some of his exhibitions even women of quality contended publicly. The excellent Marcus Aurelius not only retrenched the enormous expenses of these amusements, but ordered that gladiators should contend only with blunt weapons. But they were not abolished until some time after the introduction of Christianity. Constantine [132]published the first edict which condemned the shedding of human blood, and ordered that criminals condemned to death should rather be sent to the mines than reserved for the service of the amphitheatre. In the reign of Honorius, when he was celebrating with magnificent games the retreat of the Goths and the deliverance of Rome, an Asiatic monk, by name Telemachus, had the boldness to descend into the arena to part the combatants. "The Romans were provoked by this interruption of their pleasures, and the rash monk was overwhelmed under a shower of stones. But the madness of the people soon subsided; they respected the memory of Telemachus, who had deserved the honors of martyrdom, and they submitted without a murmur to the laws of Honorius, which abolished forever the human sacrifices of the amphitheatre." This occurred A.D. 404. It was not, however, until the year 500 that the practice was finally and completely abolished by Theodoric.

Some time before the day appointed for the spectacle, he who gave it (editor) published bills containing the name and ensigns of the gladiators, for each of them had his own distinctive badge, and stating also how many were to fight, and how long the show would last. It appears that like our itinerant showmen they sometimes exhibited paintings of what the sports were to contain. On the appointed day the gladiators marched in procession with much ceremony into the amphitheatre. They then separated into pairs, as they had been previously matched. An engraving on the wall of the amphitheatre at Pompeii seems to represent the beginning of a combat. In the middle stands the arbiter of the fight, marking out with a long stick the space for the combatants. On his right stands a gladiator only half armed, to whom two others are bringing a sword and helmet. On the left another gladiator, also only partly armed, sounds the trumpet for the commencement of the fight; whilst behind him two [133]companions, at the foot of one of the Victories which enclose the scene, are preparing his helmet and shield.

At first, however, they contended only with staves, called rudes, or with blunted weapons; but when warmed and inspirited by the pretense of battle, they changed their weapons, and advanced at the sound of trumpets to the real strife. The conquered looked to the people or to the emperor for life; his antagonist had no power to grant or to refuse it; but if the spectators were dissatisfied and gave the signal of death, he was obliged to become the executioner of their will. This signal was the turning down the thumbs; as is well known. If any showed signs of fear, their death was certain; if on the other hand they waited the fatal stroke with intrepidity, the people generally relented. But fear and want of spirit were of very rare occurrence, insomuch that Cicero more than once proposed the principle of honor which actuated gladiators as an admirable model of constancy and courage, by which he intended to animate himself and others to suffer everything in defence of the commonwealth.

[134]The bodies of the slain were dragged with a hook or on a cart through a gate called Libitinensis, the Gate of Death. The victor was rewarded with a sum of money, contributed by the spectators or bestowed from the treasury, or a palm-branch, or a garland of palm ornamented with colored ribbons—ensigns of frequent occurrence in ancient monuments. Those who survived three years were released from this service, and sometimes one who had given great satisfaction was enfranchised on the spot. This was done by presenting the staff (rudis) which was used in preluding to the combat; on receiving which, the gladiator, if a freeman, recovered his liberty; if a slave, he was not made free, but was released from the obligation of venturing his life any further in the arena.

Gladiators were divided, according to the fashion of their armor and offensive weapons, into classes, known by the names of Thrax, Samnis, Myrmillo, and many others, of which a mere catalogue would be tedious, and it would be the work of a treatise to ascertain and describe their distinctive marks.

Another group consists of four figures. Two are secutores, followers, the other two, retiarii, net men, armed only with a trident and net, with which they endeavored to entangle their adversary, and then dispatch him. These classes, like the Thrax and Myrmillo, were usual antagonists, and had their name from the secutor following the retiarius, who eluded the pursuit until he found an opportunity to throw his net to advantage. Nepimus, one of the latter, five times victorious, has fought against one of the former, whose name is lost, but who had triumphed six times in different combats. He has been less fortunate in this battle. Nepimus has struck him in the leg, the thigh, and the left arm; his blood runs, and in vain he implores mercy from the spectators. As the trident with which Nepimus is armed is not a weapon calculated to inflict speedy and certain death, the secutor [135]Hyppolitus performs this last office to his comrade. The condemned wretch bends the knee, presents his throat to the sword, and throws himself forward to meet the blow, while Nepimus, his conqueror, pushes him, and seems to insult the last moments of his victim. In the distance is the retiarius, who must fight Hyppolitus in his turn. The secutores have a very plain helmet, that their adversary may have little or no opportunity of pulling it off with the net or trident; the right arm is clothed in armor, the left bore a clypeus, or large round shield; a sandal tied with narrow bands forms the covering for their feet. They wear no body armor, no covering but a cloth round the waist, for by their lightness and activity alone could they hope to avoid death and gain the victory. The retiarii have the head bare, except a fillet bound round the hair; they have no shield, but the left side is covered with a demi-cuiarass, and the left arm protected in the usual manner, except that the shoulder-piece is very high. They wear the caliga, or low boot common to the Roman soldiery, and bear the trident; but the net with which they endeavored to envelop their adversaries is nowhere visible. This bas-relief is terminated by the combat between a light-armed gladiator and a Samnite. This last beseeches the spectators to save him, but it [136]appears from the action of the principal figure that this is not granted. The conqueror looks towards the steps of the amphitheatre; he has seen the fatal signal, and in reply prepares himself to strike.

Between the pilasters of the door the frieze is continued. Two combats are represented. In the first a Samnite has been conquered by a Myrmillo. This last wishes to become his comrade's executioner without waiting the answer from the people, to whom the vanquished has appealed; but the lanista checks his arm, from which it would seem that the Samnite obtained pardon.

Another pair exhibits a similar combat, in which the Myrmillo falls stabbed to death. The wounds, the blood, and the inside of the bucklers are painted of a very bright red color. The swords, with the exception of that of Hyppolitus, are omitted; it is possible that it was intended to make them of metal.

The bas-reliefs constituting the lower frieze are devoted to the chase and to combats between men and animals. In the upper part are hares pursued by a dog; beyond is a wounded stag pursued by dogs, to whom he is about to become the prey; below, a wild boar is seized by an enormous dog, which has already caused his blood to flow.

In the middle of the composition a bestiarius has transfixed a bear with a stroke of his lance. This person wears a kind of short hunting boot, and is clothed as well as his comrade in a light tunic without sleeves, bound round the hips, and called subucula. It was the dress of the common people, as we learn from the sculptures on Trajan's column. The companion of this man has transfixed a bull, which flies, carrying with him the heavy lance with which he is wounded. He turns his head toward his assailant, and seems to wish to return to the attack; the man by his gestures appears astonished, beholding himself disarmed and at the mercy of the animal, whom he thought mortally stricken. [137]Pliny (lib. viii. cap. 45) speaks of the ferocity shown by bulls in these combats, and of having seen them, when stretched for dead on the arena, lift themselves up and renew the combat.

Another sort of amphitheatrical amusements consisted in witnessing the death of persons under sentence of the law, either by the hands of the executioner, or by being exposed to the fury of savage animals. The early Christians were especially subjected to this species of cruelty. Nero availed himself of the prejudice against them to turn aside popular indignation after the great conflagration of Rome, which is commonly ascribed to his own wanton love of mischief; and we learn from Tertullian, that, after great public misfortunes, the cry of the populace was, "To the lions with the Christians."

The Coliseum now owes its preservation to the Christian blood so profusely shed within its walls. After serving during ages as a quarry of hewn stone for the use of all whose station and power entitled them to a share in public plunder, it was at last secured from further injury by Pope Benedict XIV., who consecrated the building about the middle of the last century, and placed it under the protection of the martyrs, who had there borne testimony with their blood to the sincerity of their belief.

[138]There is nothing in the amphitheatre of Pompeii at variance with the general description of this class of buildings, and our notice of it will therefore necessarily be short. (See page 121.) Its form, as usual, is oval: the extreme length, from outside to outside of the exterior arcade, is 430 feet, its greatest breadth is 335 feet. The spectators gained admission by tickets, which had numbers or marks on them, corresponding with similar signs on the arches through which they entered. Those who were entitled to occupy the lower ranges of seats passed through the perforated arcades of the lower order; those whose place was in the upper portion of the cavea ascended by staircases between the seats and the outer wall of the building. From hence the women again ascended to the upper tier, which was divided into boxes, and appropriated to them.

The construction consists for the most part of the rough masonry called opus incertum, with quoins of squared stone, and some trifling restorations of rubble. This rude mass was probably once covered with a more sumptuous facing of hewn stone: but there are now no other traces of it than a few of the key-stones, on one of which a chariot and two horses is sculptured, on another a head; besides which there are a few stars on the wedge-stones.

At each end of the ellipse were entrances into the arena for the combatants, through which the dead bodies were dragged out into the spoliarium. These were also the principal approaches to the lower ranges of seats, occupied by the senators, magistrates, and knights, by means of corridors to the right and left which ran round the arena. The ends of these passages were secured by metal gratings against the intrusion of wild beasts. In the northern one are nine places for pedestals to form a line of separation, dividing the entrance into two parts of unequal breadth. The seats are elevated above the arena upon a high podium or parapet, upon which, when the building was first opened, there [139]remained several inscriptions, containing the names of duumvirs who had presided upon different occasions. There were also paintings in fresco, one representing a tigress fighting with a wild boar; another, a stag chased by a lioness; another, a battle between a bull and bear. Other subjects comprised candelabra, a distribution of palms among the gladiators, winged genii, minstrels, and musicians; but all disappeared soon after their exposure to the atmosphere. The amphitheatre comprises twenty-four rows of seats, and about 20,000 feet of sitting-room.

It may be observed that the arena of the amphitheatre of Pompeii appears to be formed of the natural surface of the earth, and has none of those vast substructions observable at Pozzuoli and Capua. It does not, therefore, appear capable of being turned into a Naumachia, nor indeed would it have been easy to find there water enough for such a purpose.

In the Roman theatre the construction of the orchestra and stage was different from that of the Greeks. By the construction peculiar to the Roman theatre, the stage was brought nearer to the audience (the arc not exceeding a semi-circle), and made considerably deeper than in the Greek theatre. The length of the stage was twice the diameter of the orchestra. The Roman orchestra contained no thymele. The back of the stage, or proscenium, was adorned with niches, and columns, and friezes of great richness, as may be seen in some of the theatres of Asia Minor, and in the larger theatre at Pompeii, which belong to the Roman period.

On the whole, however, the construction of a Roman theatre resembled that of a Greek one. The Senate, and other distinguished persons, occupied circular ranges of seats within the orchestra; the prætor had a somewhat higher seat. The space between the orchestra and the first præcinctio, usually consisting of fourteen seats, was reserved for the equestrian order, tribunes, etc. Above them were the seats of the plebeians. Soldiers were [140]separated from the citizens. Women were appointed by Augustus to sit in the portico, which encompassed the whole. Behind the scenes were the postscenium, or retiring-room, and porticoes, to which, in case of sudden showers, the people retreated from the theatre.

The earliest theatres at Rome were temporary buildings of wood. A magnificent wooden theatre, built by M. Æmilius Scaurus, in his edileship, B.C. 58, is described by Pliny. In 55 B.C., Cn. Pompey built the first stone theatre at Rome, near the Campus Martius. A temple of Venus Victrix, to whom he dedicated the whole building, was erected at the highest part of the cavea.

The next permanent theatre was built by Augustus, and named after his favorite, the young Marcellus, son of his sister Octavia. Vitruvius is generally reported to have been the architect of this building, which would contain 30,000 persons. The audience part was a semi-circle 410 feet in diameter. Twelve arches of its external wall still remain. From marks still visible in the large theatre at Pompeii, the place reserved for each spectator was about 13 inches. This theatre contained 5,000. The theatre of Pompeii, at Rome, contained 40,000. The theatre of Scaurus is said to have contained 80,000. The Romans surpassed the Greeks in the grandeur and magnificence of these buildings. They built them in almost all their towns. Remains of them are found in almost every country where the Romans carried their rule. One of the most striking Roman provincial theatres is that of Orange, in the south of France.

Odeum was a building intended for the recitations of rhapsodists and the performances of citharædists, before the theatre was in existence. In its general form and arrangements the odeum was very similar to the theatre. There were, however, some characteristic differences. The odeum was much smaller than the theatre, and it was roofed over. The ancient and [141]original Odeum of Athens in the Agora was probably erected in the time of Hipparchus, who, according to Plato, first introduced at Athens the poems of Homer, and caused rhapsodists to recite them during the Panathenæa. There were two others in Athens—the Odeum of Pericles, and that of Herodes Atticus. The Odeum of Pericles was built in imitation of the tent of Xerxes. It was burnt by Sylla, but was restored in exact imitation of the original building. It lay at the east side of the theatre of Dionysus. The Odeum of Herodes Atticus was built by him in memory of his departed wife Regilla, whose name it commonly bore. It lies under the southwest angle of the Acropolis. Its greatest diameter within the walls was 240 feet, and it is calculated to have held about 8,000 persons. There were odea in several of the towns of Greece, in Corinth, Patræ, and at Smyrna, Ephesus and other places of Asia Minor. There were odea also in Rome; one was built by Domitian, and a second by Trajan. There are ruins of an Odeum in the villa of Adrian, at Tivoli and at Pompeii.

Remains of amphitheatres are found in several cities of Etruria. The amphitheatre of Sutri is considered to be peculiarly Etruscan in its mode of construction. It is cut out of the tufa rock, and was no doubt used by that people for festal representations long before Rome attempted anything of the kind. The Romans copied these edifices from the Etruscans. We have historical evidence, also, that gladiatorial combats had an Etruscan origin, and were borrowed by the Romans.

Amphitheatres were peculiar to the Romans. The gladiatorial shows, and the chase and combats of wild beasts with which the amphitheatre is always connected, were at first given in the circus. Its unsuitableness for such sports determined Julius Cæsar, in his dictatorship, to construct a wooden theatre in the Campus Martius, built especially for hunting. Caius Scribonius Curio built the first amphitheatre, for the celebration of his [142]father's funeral games. It was composed of two theatres of wood, placed on pivots, so that they could be turned round, spectators and all, and placed face to face, thus forming a double theatre, or amphitheatre, which ending suggested its elliptical shape. Statilius Taurus, the friend of Augustus, B.C. 30, erected a more durable amphitheatre, partly of stone and partly of wood, in the Campus Martius. Others were afterwards built by Caligula and Nero. The amphitheatre of Nero was of wood, and in the Campus Martius.

The assembled people in a crowded theatre must have been an imposing spectacle, in which the gorgeous colors of the dresses were blended with the azure of a southern sky. No antique rendering of this subject remains. The spectators began to assemble at early dawn, for each wished to secure a good seat, after paying his entrance fee. This, not exceeding two oboloi, was payable to the builder or manager of the theatre. After the erection of stone theatres at Athens, this entrance fee was paid for the poorer classes by Government, and formed, indeed, one of the heaviest items of the budget. For not only at the Dionysian ceremonies, but on many other festive occasions, the people clamored for free admission, confirmed in their demands by the demagogues. Frequently the money reserved for the emergency of a war had to be spent for this purpose. The seats in a theatre were, of course, not all equally good, and their prices varied accordingly. The police of the theatre had to take care that everybody took his seat in the row marked on his ticket. Most of the spectators were men. In older times women were allowed only to attend at tragedies, the coarse jokes of the comedy being deemed unfit for the ears of Athenian ladies. Only hetairai made an exception to this rule. It is almost certain that the seats of men and women were separate. Boys were allowed to witness both tragedies and comedies. Whether slaves were admitted amongst the spectators seems [143]doubtful. As pedagogues were not allowed to enter the schoolroom, it seems likely that they had also to leave the theatre after having shown their young masters to their seats. Neither were the slaves carrying the cushions for their masters' seats admitted amongst the spectators. It is, however, possible that when the seats became to be for sale, certain classes of slaves were allowed to visit the theatre. Favorite poets and actors were rewarded with applause and flowers; while bad performers had to submit to whistling, and, possibly, other worse signs of public indignation. Greek audiences resembled those of southern Europe at the present day in the vivacity of their demonstrations, which were even extended to public characters amongst the spectators on their clearing the theatre.

Vitruvius has given some minute directions, strongly illustrative of the importance of the subject, for choosing a proper situation for a theatre. "When the Forum is finished, a healthy situation must be sought for, wherein the theatre may be erected to exhibit sports on the festival days of the immortal gods. For the spectators are detained in their seats by the entertainment of the games, and remaining quiet for a long time, their pores are opened, and imbibe the draughts of air, which, if they come from marshy or otherwise unhealthy places, will pour injurious humors into the body. Neither must it front the south; for when the sun fills the concavity, the inclosed air, unable to escape or circulate, is heated, and then extracts and dries up the juices of the body. It is also to be carefully observed that the place be not unfitted to transmit sound, but one in which the voice may expand as clearly as possible."

The ancient scene was not, like that of the modern stage, capable of being shifted. It consisted of a solid building (scena stabilis), representing the facade of a royal palace, and adorned with the richest architectural ornaments. It was built of stone, or brick cased with marble, and had three doors, of which the [144]middle one, called porta regia, larger and handsomer than the others, was supposed to form the entrance to the palace. This was used only in the representation of tragedies, and then only by the principal personages of the drama. The door in the right wing was appropriated to inferior personages, and that on the left to foreigners or persons coming from abroad. In our plan, the five angles of the triangles not yet disposed of determine the disposition of the scene. Opposite the centre one are the regal doors; on each side are those by which the secondary characters entered. Behind the scene, as in the Greek theatre, there were apartments for the actors to retire into; and under it were vaults or cellars, which, as in the modern stage, served for the entrance of ghosts, or the appliance of any needful machinery. The proscenium, or space between the orchestra and the scene, answering to our stage, though deeper than the Greek, was of no great depth, which was not required for the performance of ancient dramas, in which only a few personages appeared on the stage at once. Besides, in the absence of any roof, the voice of the performers would have been lost if the stage had been too deep. That of Pompeii is only about twenty-one feet broad, though its length is one hundred and nine.

Along the front of the stage, and between it and the orchestra, runs a tolerably deep linear opening, the receptacle for the aulæum, or curtain, the fashion of which was just the reverse of ours, as it had to be depressed instead of elevated when the play began. This operation, performed by machinery of which we have no clear account, was called aulæum premere, as in the well-known line of Horace:[19]

It should, however, be mentioned that the ancients seem also to have had movable scenery (scena ductilis), to alter the appearance [145]of the permanent scene when required. This must have consisted of painted board or canvas.

Another method of illusion was by the use of masks. These were rendered necessary by the vastness of the ancient theatres, and the custom of performing in the open air.

In the eastern portico of the Triangular Forum are four entrances to different parts of the greater theatre. The first two, as you enter, lead into a large circular corridor surrounding the whole cavea; the third opens on an area behind the scene, from which there is a communication with the orchestra and privileged seats; the fourth led down a long flight of steps, at the bottom of which you turn, on the right, into the soldiers' quarter, on the left, into the area already mentioned. The corridor is arched over. It has two other entrances, one by a large passage from the east side, another from a smaller passage on the north. Six inner doors, called vomitoria, opened on an equal number of stair-cases which ran down to the first præcinctio. The theatre is formed upon the slope of a hill, the corridor being the highest part, so that the audience upon entering descended at once to their seats, and the vast staircases, which conducted to the upper seats of the theatres and amphitheatres at Rome, were saved. By the side of the first entrance is a staircase which led up to the women's gallery above the corridor; here the seats were partitioned into compartments, like our boxes. The benches were about one foot three inches high and two feet four inches wide. One foot three inches and a half was allowed to each spectator, as may be ascertained in one part, where the divisions are marked off and numbered. There is space to contain about five thousand persons. Here the middle classes sat, usually upon cushions which they brought with them; the men of rank sat in the orchestra below, on chairs of state carried thither by their slaves. Flanking the orchestra, and elevated considerably above it, are observable two divisions, appropriated, one perhaps to the [146]pro-consul, or duumvirs and their officers, the other to the vestal virgins, or to the use of the person who gave the entertainments. This is the more likely, because in the smaller theatre, where these boxes, if we may call them so, are also found, they have a communication with the stage.

This theatre appears to have been entirely covered with marble; the benches of the cavea were of marble, the orchestra was of marble, the scene with all its ornaments was also of marble; and yet of this profusion of marble only a few fragments remain.

It appears, from an inscription found in it, to have been erected, or much improved, by one Holconius Rufus. Upon the first step of the orchestra was another inscription, composed of bronze letters let into the marble. The metal has been carried away, but the cavities in the marble still remain. They were placed so as partly to encompass a statue, and run thus:

M. HOLCONIO. M. F. RVFO. II. V.I.D. QVINQVIENS. ITER.
QVINQ. TRIB. MIL. A. P. FLAMEN. AVG.
PATR. COLON. D.D.

signifying, that the colony dedicated this to its patron, M. Holconius Rufus, son of Marcus: then follow his titles. In the middle of this inscription is a vacant space, where probably stood the statue of Holconius, as the cramps, by which something was fastened, still remain. Or possibly it may have been an altar, as it was the custom among the ancients to sacrifice to Bacchus in the theatre.

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[147]

Roman Baths.

After the excavations at Pompeii had been carried on to a considerable extent, it was matter of surprise that no public baths were discovered, particularly as they were sure almost to be placed in the most frequented situation, and therefore probably somewhere close to the Forum. The wonder was increased by the small number of baths found in private houses. That public baths existed, was long ago ascertained from an inscription discovered in 1749, purporting that one Januarius, an enfranchised slave, supplied the baths of Marcus Crassus Frugi with water, both fresh and salt. At length an excavation in the vicinity of the Forum brought to light a suite of public baths, admirably arranged, spacious, highly decorated, and superior to any even in the most considerable of our modern cities. They are fortunately in good preservation, and throw much light on what the ancients, and especially Vitruvius, have written on the subject.

This announcement of a public entertainment is written on a wall of the court of the baths, to the right hand on entering.

The provincial towns, imitating the example of Rome, and [148]equally fond of all sorts of theatrical and gladiatorial exhibitions, of which we have spoken at length in describing the various theatres of Pompeii, usually solemnized the completion of any edifices or monuments erected for the public service by dedicating them. This ceremony was nothing more than opening or exhibiting the building to the people in a solemn manner, gratifying them at the same time with largesses and various spectacles. When a private man had erected the building, he himself was usually the person who dedicated it. When undertaken by the public order and at the public cost, the citizens deputed some magistrate or rich and popular person to perform the ceremony. In the capital vast sums were expended in this manner; and a man who aspired to become a popular leader could scarcely lay out his money to better interest than in courting favor by the prodigality of his expenses on these or similar occasions. It appears, then, that upon the completion of the baths, the Pompeians committed the dedication to Cnæus Alleius Nigidius Maius, who entertained them with a sumptuous spectacle.

There were combats (venatio) between wild beasts, or between beasts and men, a cruel sport, to which the Romans were passionately addicted; athletic games (athletæ), sprinkling of perfumes (sparsiones), and it was further engaged that an awning should be raised over the amphitheatre. The convenience of such a covering will be evident, no less as a protection against sun than rain under an Italian sky: the merit of the promise, which may seem but a trifle, will be understood by considering the difficulty of stretching a covering over the immense area of an ancient amphitheatre. We may observe, by the way, that representations of hunting and of combats between wild beasts are common subjects of the paintings of Pompeii. A combat between a lion and a horse, and another, between a bear and a bull, have been found depicted in the amphitheatre. The velarium, or awning, is advertised in all the inscriptions yet found which give [149]notice of public games. Athletæ and sparsiones appear in no other. We learn from Seneca that the perfumes were disseminated by being mixed with boiling water, and then placed in the centre of the amphitheatre, so that the scents rose with the steam, and soon became diffused throughout the building.

There is some reason to suppose that the completion and dedication of the baths preceded the destruction of the city but a short time, from the inscription being found perfect on the wall of the baths, for it was the custom to write these notices in the most public places, and after a very short season they were covered over by others, as one billsticker defaces the labors of his predecessors. This is abundantly evident even in the present ruined state of the town, especially at the corners of the principal streets, where it is easy to discover one inscription painted over another.

But to return to the Baths. They occupy almost an entire block, forming an irregular quadrangle; the northern front, facing to the Street of the Baths, being about 162 feet in length, the southern front about 93 feet, and the average depth about 174 feet. They are divided into three separate and distinct compartments, one of which was appropriated to the fireplaces and to the servants of the establishment; the other two were occupied each by a set of baths, contiguous to each other, similar and adapted to the same purposes, and supplied with heat and water from the same furnace and from the same reservoir. It is conjectured that the most spacious of them was for the use of the men, the lesser for that of the women. The apartments and passages are paved with white marble in mosaic. It appears, from Varro and Vitruvius, that baths for men and women were originally united, as well for convenience as economy of fuel, but were separated afterwards for the preservation of morals, and had no communication except that from the furnaces. We shall call these the old Baths by way of distinction, and because they were first [150]discovered; but in reality, the more recently discovered Stabian Baths may probably be the more ancient.

It should be observed here that the old Pompeian thermæ are adapted solely to the original purposes of a bath, namely, a place for bathing and washing. They can not therefore for a moment be compared to the baths constructed at Rome during the period of the empire, of which such magnificent remains may still be seen at the baths of Diocletian, and especially at those of Caracalla. In these vast establishments the bath formed only a part of the entertainment provided. There were also spacious porticoes for walking and conversing, halls and courts for athletic games and gladiatorial combats, apartments for the lectures and recitations of philosophers, rhetoricians and poets. In short, they formed a sort of vast public club, in which almost every species of amusement was provided. In the more recently discovered baths, called the Thermæ Stabianæ, there is indeed a large quadrangular court, or palæstra, which may have served for gymnastic exercises, and among others for the game of ball, as appears from some large balls of stone having been found in it. Yet even this larger establishment makes but a very slight approach to the magnificence and luxury of a Roman bath.

The tepidarium, or warm chamber, was so called from a warm, but soft and mild temperature, which prepared the bodies of the bathers for the more intense heat which they were to undergo in the vapor and hot baths; and, vice versa, softened the transition from the hot bath to the external air. The wall is divided into a number of niches or compartments by Telamones, two feet high, in high relief, and supporting a rich cornice. These are male, as Caryatides are female statues placed to perform the office of pillars. By the Greeks they were named Atlantes, from the well-known fable of Atlas supporting the heavens. Here they are made of terra-cotta, or baked clay, incrusted with the finest marble stucco. Their only covering is a girdle round the [151]loins; they have been painted flesh-color, with black hair and beards; the moulding of the pedestal and the baskets on their heads were in imitation of gold; and the pedestal itself, as well as the wall behind them and the niches for the reception of the clothes of the bathers, were colored to resemble red porphyry. Six of these niches are closed up without any apparent reason.

The ceiling is worked in stucco, in low relief, with scattered figures and ornaments of little flying genii, delicately relieved on medallions, with foliage carved round them. The ground is painted, sometimes red and sometimes blue. The room is lighted by a window two feet six inches high and three feet wide, in the bronze frame of which were found set four very beautiful panes of glass fastened by small nuts and screws, very ingeniously contrived, with a view to remove the glass at pleasure. In this room was found a brazier, seven feet long and two feet six inches broad, made entirely of bronze, with the exception of an iron lining. The two front legs are winged sphinxes, terminating in lions' [152]paws, the two other legs are plain, being intended to stand against the wall. The bottom is formed with bronze bars, on which are laid bricks supporting pumice-stones for the reception of charcoal. There is a sort of false battlement worked on the rim, and in the middle a cow is to be seen in high relief. Three bronze benches also were found, alike in form and pattern. They are one foot four inches high, one foot in width, and about six feet long, supported by four legs, terminating in the cloven hoofs of a cow, and ornamented at the upper ends with the heads of the same animal. Upon the seat is inscribed, M. NIGIDIUS, VACCULA. P.S.

Varro, in his book upon rural affairs, tells us that many of the surnames of the Roman families had their origin in pastoral life, and especially are derived from the animals to whose breeding they paid most attention. As, for instance, the Porcii took their name from their occupation as swine-herds; the Ovini from their care of sheep; the Caprilli, of goats; the Equarii, of horses; the Tauri, of bulls, etc. We may conclude, therefore, that the family of this Marcus Vaccula were originally cow-keepers, and that the figures of cows so plentifully impressed on all the articles which he presented to the baths are a sort of canting arms, to borrow an expression from heraldry, as in Rome the family Toria caused a bull to be stamped on their money.

A doorway led from the tepidarium into the caldarium, or vapor-bath. It had on one side the laconicum, containing the vase called labrum. On the opposite side of the room was the hot bath called lavacrum. Here it is necessary to refer to the words of Vitruvius as explanatory of the structure of the apartments (cap. xi. lib. v.): "Here should be placed the vaulted sweating-room, twice the length of its width, which should have at each extremity, on one end the laconicum, made as described above, on the other end the hot bath." This apartment is exactly as described, twice the length of its width, exclusively of [153]the laconicum at one end and the hot bath at the other. The pavement and walls of the whole were hollowed to admit the heat.

The labrum was a great basin or round vase of white marble, rather more than five feet in diameter, into which the hot water bubbled up through a pipe in its centre, and served for the partial ablutions of those who took the vapor-bath. It was raised about three feet six inches above the level of the pavement, on a round base built of small pieces of stone or lava, stuccoed and colored red, five feet six inches in diameter, and has within it a bronze inscription, which runs thus:

Relating that "Cnæus Melissæus Aper, son of Cnæus Aper. Marcus Staius Rufus, son of M. Rufus, duumvirs of justice for the second time, caused the labrum to be made at the public expense, by order of the Decurions. It cost 5,250 sesterces" (about $200). There is in the Vatican a magnificent porphyry labrum found in one of the imperial baths; and Baccius, a great modern authority on baths, speaks of labra made of glass.

This apartment, like the others, is well stuccoed and painted yellow; a cornice, highly enriched with stucco ornaments, is supported by fluted pilasters placed at irregular intervals. These are red, as is also the cornice and ceiling of the laconicum, which is worked in stucco with little figures of boys and animals.

The women's bath resembles very much that of the men, and differs only in being smaller and less ornamented. It is heated, as we have already mentioned, by the same fire, and supplied with water from the same boilers. Near the entrance is an inscription painted in red letters. All the rooms yet retain in perfection their vaulted roofs. In the vestibule are seats similar [154]to those which have been described in the men's baths as appropriated to slaves or servants of the establishment. The robing-room contains a cold bath; it is painted with red and yellow pilasters alternating with one another on a blue or black ground, and has a light cornice of white stucco and a white mosaic pavement with a narrow black border. There are accommodations for ten persons to undress at the same time. The cold bath is much damaged, the wall only remaining of the alveus, which is square, the whole incrustation of marble being destroyed. From this room we pass into the tepidarium, about twenty feet square, painted yellow with red pilasters, lighted by a small window far from the ground. This apartment communicates with the warm bath, which, like the men's, is heated by flues formed in the floors and walls.

There are in this room paintings of grotesque design upon a yellow ground, but they are much damaged and scarcely visible. The pavement is of white marble laid in mosaic. The room in its general arrangement resembles the hot bath of the men; it has a labrum in the laconicum, and a hot bath contiguous to the furnace. The hollow pavement and the flues in the walls are almost entirely destroyed; and of the labrum, the foot, in the middle of which was a piece of the leaden conduit that introduced the water, alone remains. On the right of the entrance into these women's baths is a wall of stone of great thickness and in a good style of masonry.

These baths are so well arranged, with so prudent an economy of room and convenient distribution of their parts, and are adorned with such appropriate elegance, as to show clearly the intellect and resources of an excellent architect. At the same time some errors of the grossest kind have been committed, such as would be inexcusable in the most ignorant workman; as, for instance, the symmetry of parts has been neglected where the parts correspond; a pilaster is cut off by a door which passes through the middle of it; and other mistakes occur which might have been avoided without difficulty. This strange mixture of good and bad taste, of skill and carelessness, is not very easily accounted for, but it is of constant recurrence in Pompeii.

[155]

[156]Vitruvius recommends the selecting a situation for baths defended from the north and northwest winds, and forming windows opposite the south, or if the nature of the ground would not permit this, at least towards the south, because the hours of bathing used by the ancients being from after mid-day till evening, those who bathed could, by those windows, have the advantage of the rays and of the heat of the declining sun.

For this reason the Pompeian baths hitherto described have the greater part of their windows turned to the south, and are constructed in a low part of the city, where the adjoining buildings served as a protection to them from the inconvenience of the northwest winds.

Before concluding this account of the Stabian baths, we should mention that under the portico, near the entrance to the men's baths, was found a sun-dial, consisting as usual of a half circle inscribed in a rectangle, and with the gnomon in perfect preservation. It was supported by lion's feet and elegantly ornamented. On its base was an Oscan inscription, which has been interpreted as follows by Minervini: Marius. Atinius, Marii filius, quæstor, ex multatitia pecunia conventus decreto fieri mandavit. That is: the Quæstor M. Atinius, in accordance with a decree of the assembly, caused it to be made out of money levied by fines. The title of "Quæstor" seems to show that this inscription must have been written after the occupation of Pompeii by the Romans, but at the same time at a period when the Oscan tongue continued to be generally spoken. The fines alluded to were probably levied for breaches of the rules to be observed in the palæstra.

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[157]

Social Games and Sports.

Jugglers of both sexes, either single or in gangs, were common all over Greece putting up their booths, as Xenophon says, wherever money and silly people could be found. These frequently amused the guests at drinking feasts with their tricks. The reputation of this class of people was anything but above suspicion, as is proved by the verse of Manetho ("Apotheles," IV., 276), in which they are described as the "birds of the country, the foulest brood of the city." Their tricks were innumerable, and outvied in boldness and ingenuity those of our conjurors, barring, of course such as are founded on the modern discoveries of natural science. Male and female jugglers jumped forwards and backwards over swords or tables; girls threw up and caught again a number of balls or hoops to the accompaniment of a musical instrument; others displayed an astounding skill with their feet and toes while standing on their hands. Rope-dancers performed the most dangerous dances and salti-mortali. In Rome even elephants were trained to mount the rope. Flying-machines of a construction unknown to us are also mentioned, on which bold aeronauts traversed the air. Alkiphron tells a story about a peasant who, on seeing a juggler pulling little bullets from the noses, ears, and heads of the spectators, exclaimed: "Let such a beast never enter my yard, or else everything would soon disappear." Descriptions of these tricks are frequent in ancient writers, particularly in the indignant invectives of the early fathers [158]of the Church. Amongst the pictures of female jugglers in all kinds of impossible postures, can be seen a girl performing the dangerous sword-dance, described by Plato. It consists in her turning somersaults forwards and backwards across the points of three swords stuck in the ground. A similar picture we see on a vase of the Berlin Museum. Another vase shows a female juggler dressed in long drawers standing on her hands, and filling with her feet a kantharos from a krater placed in front of her. She holds the handle of the kantharos with the toes of her left foot, while the toes of her other foot cling round the stem of the kyathos used for drawing the liquor. A woman sitting in front of her performs a game with three balls, in which the other artiste also seems to take a part. In another, a girl in a rather awkward position is shooting an arrow from a bow.

Of social games played by the topers we mention, besides the complicated kottabos, the games played on a board or with dice. Homer already mentions a game of the former class, and names Palamedes as its inventor; of the exact nature of this game we know little or nothing. Neither are we informed of the details of another kind of petteia played with five little stones on a board divided by five lines.

The so-called "game of cities" seems to have resembled our chess or draughts. The board was divided into five parts. Each player tried to checkmate the other by the skillful use of his men. Games of hazard with dice and astragaloi were most likely greater favorites with the topers than the intellectual ones hitherto described. The number of dice was at first three, afterwards two; the figures on the parallel sides being 1 and 6, 2 and 5, 3 and 4. In order to prevent cheating, they were cast from conical beakers, the interior of which was formed into different steps. Each cast had its name, sixty-four of which have been transmitted to us by the grammarians. The luckiest cast, each of the dice showing the figure 6, was called Aphrodite; the unluckiest, [159]the three dice showing the figure 1, had the names of "dog" or "wine" applied to it.

Another game of a similar nature was played with the so-called astragaloi, dice of a lengthy shape made of the knuckles of animals. Two of the surfaces were flat, the third being raised, and the fourth indented slightly. The last-mentioned side was marked 1, and had, amongst many other names, that of "dog;" the opposite surface, marked 6. The Latin names of the two other sides marked 3 and 4 were suppus and planus respectively. The figures 2 and 5 were wanting on the astragaloi, the narrow end-surfaces not being counted. The number of astragaloi used was always four, being the same as in the game of dice. Here also the luckiest cast was called Aphrodite, with which at the same time the honor of king-of-the-feast was connected.

Young girls liked to play at a game with five astragaloi, or little stones, which were thrown into the air and caught on the upper surface of the hand. This game is still in use in many countries. We possess many antique representations of these various games.

Two vase paintings show soldiers playing at draughts. Astragaloi and dice of different sizes, some with the figures as above described on them, others evidently counterfeited, are preserved in several museums. Of larger representations we mention the marble statue of a girl playing with astragaloi in the Berlin Museum, and a Pompeian wall-painting in which the children of Jason play the same game, while Medea threatens their lives with a drawn sword. The celebrated masterpiece of Polykletes, representing two boys playing with astragaloi, formerly in the palace of Titus in Rome, has unfortunately been lost. Another wall-painting shows in the foreground Aglaia and Hileaira, daughters of Niobe, kneeling and playing the same game.

In connection with these social games we mention a few other favorite amusements of the Greeks. The existence of [160]cock-fights is proved by vase-paintings, gems, and written evidence. It was a favorite pastime with both old and young. Themistokles, after his victory over the Persians, is said to have founded an annual entertainment of cock-fights, which made both these and the fights of quails popular among the Greeks. The breeding of fighting-cocks was a matter of great importance, Rhodes, Chalkis, and Media being particularly celebrated for their strong and large cocks. In order to increase their fury, the animals were fed with garlic previous to the fight. Sharp metal spurs were attached to their legs, after which they were placed on a table with a raised border. Very large sums were frequently staked on them by owners and spectators.

Here, again, we see antique customs reproduced by various modern nations. The Italian game of morra (il giuco alla morra or fare alla morra) was also known to the ancients. In it both players open their clenched right hands simultaneously with the speed of lightning, whereat each has to call out the number of fingers extended by the other. It is the same game which figured among Egyptian amusements. Mimetic dances were another favorite amusement at symposia. They mostly represented mythological scenes. A few words about Greek dancing ought to be added.

Homer mentions dancing as one of the chief delights of the feast; he also praises the artistic dances of the Phaiakian youths. This proves the esteem in which this art was held even at that early period. In the dances of the Phaiakai, all the young men performed a circular movement round a singer standing in the centre, or else two skilled dancers executed a pas de deux. Homer's words seem to indicate that the rhythmical motion was not limited to the legs, as in our modern dances, but extended to the upper part of the body and the arms. Perhaps the germs of mimetic art may be looked for in this dance.

According to Lucian, the aim of the dance was to express [161]sentiment, passion, and action by means of gestures. It soon developed into highest artistic beauty, combined with the rhythmic grace peculiar to the Greeks. Like the gymnastic and agonistic arts, the dance retained its original purity as long as public morality prevailed in Greece: its connection with religious worship preserved it from neglect. Gradually, however, here also mechanical virtuosity began to supplant true artistic principles.

The division of dances according to their warlike or religious character seems objectionable, because all of them were originally connected with religious worship. The distinction between warlike and peaceful dances is more appropriate. Among the warlike dances particularly adapted to the Doric character, was the oldest and that most in favor. It dates from mythical times. Pyrrhichos, either a Kretan or Spartan by birth, the Dioskuroi, also Pyrrhos, the son of Achilles, are mentioned as its originators. The Pyrrhic dance, performed by several men in armor, imitated the movements of attack and defence. The various positions were defined by rule; hands and arms played an important part in the mimetic action. It formed the chief feature of the Doric gymnopaidia and of the greater and lesser Panathenaia at Athens. The value attached to it in the latter city is proved by the fact of the Athenians making Phrynichos commander-in-chief owing to the skill displayed by him in the Pyrrhic dance.

Later a Bacchic element was introduced into this dance, which henceforth illustrated the deeds of Dionysos. A fragment of a marble frieze shows a satyr with a thyrsos and laurel crown performing a wild Bacchic dance between two soldiers, also executing a dancing movement; it most likely illustrates the Pyrrhic dance of a later epoch.

Of other warlike dances we mention the karpeia, which rendered the surprise of a warrior plowing a field by robbers, and the scuffle between them. It was accompanied on the flute.

More numerous, although less complicated, were the [162]peaceful choral dances performed at the feasts of different gods, according to their individualities. With the exception of the Bacchic dances, they consisted of measured movements round the altar. More lively in character were the gymnopaidic dances performed by men and boys. They were, like most Spartan choral dances, renowned for their graceful rhythms. They consisted of an imitation of gymnastic exercises, particularly of the wrestling-match and the Pankration; in later times it was generally succeeded by the warlike Pyrrhic dance.

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[163]

Social Entertainments.

We will now give some of the more domestic entertainments, such as parties or dinners, given by the Egyptians. In their entertainments they appear to have omitted nothing which could promote festivity and the amusement of the guests. Music, songs, dancing, buffoonery, feats of agility, or games of chance, were generally introduced; and they welcomed them with all the luxuries which the cellar and the table could afford.

The party, when invited to dinner, met about midday, and they arrived successively in their chariots, in palanquins borne by their servants, or on foot. Sometimes their attendants screened them from the sun by holding up a shield (as is still done in Southern Africa), or by some other contrivance; but the chariot of the king or of a princess, was often furnished with a large parasol; and the flabella borne behind the king, which belonged exclusively to royalty, answered the same purpose. They were composed of feathers, and were not very unlike those carried on state occasions behind the Pope in modern Rome. Parasols or umbrellas were also used in Assyria, Persia, and other Eastern countries.

When a visitor came in his car, he was attended by a number of servants, some of whom carried a stool, to enable him to alight, and others his writing tablet, or whatever he might want during his stay at the house. The guests are assembled in a sitting room within, and are entertained with music during the interval preceding the announcement of dinner; for, like the Greeks, they considered it a want of good breeding to sit [164]down to table immediately on arriving, and, as Bdelycleon, in Aristophanes, recommended his father Philocleon to do, they praised the beauty of the rooms and the furniture, taking care to show particular interest in those objects which were intended for admiration. As usual in all countries, some of the party arrived earlier than others; and the consequence, or affectation of fashion, in the person who now drives up in his curricle, is shown by his coming some time after the rest of the company; one of his footmen runs forward to knock at the door, others, close behind the chariot, are ready to take the reins, and to perform their accustomed duties; and the one holding his sandals in his hand, that he may run with greater ease, illustrates a custom, still common in Egypt, among the Arabs and peasants of the country, who find the power of the foot greater when freed from the encumbrance of a shoe.

To those who arrived from a journey, or who desired it, water was brought for their feet, previous to entering the festive chamber. They also washed their hands before dinner, the water being brought in the same manner as at the present day; and ewers, not unlike those used by the modern Egyptians, are represented, with the basins belonging to them, in the paintings of a Theban tomb. In the houses of the rich they were of gold, or other costly materials. Herodotus mentions the golden foot-pan, in which Amasis and his guests used to wash their feet.

The Greeks had the same custom of bringing water to the guests, numerous instances of which we find in Homer; as when Telemachus and the son of Nestor were received at the house of Menelaus, and when Asphalion poured it upon the hands of his master, and the same guests, on another occasion. Virgil also describes the servants bringing water for this purpose when Æneas was entertained by Dido. Nor was the ceremony thought superfluous, or declined, even though they had previously bathed and been anointed with oil.

[165]It is also probable that, like the Greeks, the Egyptians anointed themselves before they left home; but still it was customary for a servant to attend every guest, as he seated himself, and to anoint his head; which was one of the principal tokens of welcome. The ointment was sweet-scented, and was contained in an alabaster, or in an elegant glass or porcelain vase, some of which have been found in the tombs of Thebes. Servants took the sandals of the guests as they arrived, and either put them by in a convenient place in the house, or held them on their arm while they waited upon them.

After the ceremony of anointing was over, and in some cases at the time of entering the saloon, a lotus flower was presented to each guest, who held it in his hand during the entertainment. Servants then brought necklaces of flowers, composed chiefly of the lotus; a garland was also put round the head, and a single lotus bud, or a full-blown flower, was so attached as to hang over the forehead. Many of them, made up into wreaths and other devices, were suspended upon stands in the room ready for immediate use; and servants were constantly employed to bring other fresh flowers from the garden, in order to supply the guests as their bouquets faded.

The Greeks and Romans had the same custom of presenting guests with flowers or garlands, which were brought in at the beginning of their entertainments, or before the second course. They not only adorned their heads, necks, and breasts, like the Egyptians, but often bestrewed the couches on which they lay, and all parts of the room, with flowers; though the head was chiefly regarded, as appears from Horace, Anacreon, Ovid, and other ancient authors. The wine-bowl, too, was crowned with flowers, as at an Egyptian banquet. They also perfumed the apartment with myrrh, frankincense and other choice odors, which they obtained from Syria; and if the sculptures do not give any direct representation of this practice among the Egyptians, [166]we know it to have been adopted and deemed indispensable among them; and a striking instance is recorded by Plutarch, at the reception of Agesilaus by Tachos. A sumptuous dinner was prepared for the Spartan prince, consisting, as usual, of beef, goose, and other Egyptian dishes; he was crowned with garlands of papyrus, and received with every token of welcome; but when he refused "the sweatmeats, confections, and perfumes," the Egyptians held him in great contempt, as a person unaccustomed to, and unworthy of, the manners of civilized society.

The Greeks, and other ancient people, usually put on a particular garment at festive meetings, generally of a white color; but it does not appear to have been customary with the Egyptians to make any great alteration in their attire, though they evidently abstained from dresses of a gloomy hue.

The guests being seated, and having received these tokens of welcome, wine was offered them by the servants. To the ladies it was generally brought in a small vase, which, when emptied into the drinking-cup, was handed to an under servant, or slave, who followed; but to the men it was frequently presented in a one-handled goblet, without being poured into any cup, and sometimes in a larger or small vase of gold, silver, or other materials.

Herodotus and Hellanicus both say that they drank wine out of brass or bronze goblets; and, indeed, the former affirms that this was the only kind of drinking-cup known to the Egyptians; but Joseph had one of silver, and the sculptures represent them of glass and porcelain, as well as of gold, silver and bronze. Those who could not afford the more costly kind were satisfied with a cheaper quality, and many were contented with cups of common earthenware; but the wealthy Egyptians used vases of glass, porcelain, and the precious metals, for numerous purposes, both in their houses and in the temples of the gods.

The practice of introducing wine at the commencement of an entertainment, or before dinner had been served up, was not [167]peculiar to this people; and the Chinese, to the present day, offer it at their parties to all the guests, as they arrive, in the same manner as the ancient Egyptians. They also drank wine during the repast, perhaps to the health of one another or of an absent friend, like the Romans; and no doubt the master of the house, or "the ruler of the feast," recommended a choice wine, and pledged them to the cup.

While dinner was preparing the party was enlivened by the sound of music; and a band, consisting of the harp, lyre, guitar, tambourine, double and single pipe, flute and other instruments, played the favorite airs and songs of the country. Nor was it deemed unbecoming the gravity and dignity of a priest to admit musicians into his house, or to take pleasure in witnessing the dance; and seated with their wives and family in the midst of their friends, the highest functionaries of the sacerdotal order enjoyed the lively scene. In the same manner, at a Greek entertainment, diversions of all kinds were introduced; and Xenophon and Plato inform us that Socrates, the wisest of men, amused his friends with music, jugglers, mimics, buffoons, and whatever could be desired for exciting cheerfulness and mirth.

The dance consisted mostly of a succession of figures, in which the performers endeavored to exhibit a great variety of gesture; men and women danced at the same time, or in separate parties, but the latter were generally preferred, from their superior grace and elegance. Some danced to slow airs, adapted to the style of their movement; the attitudes they assumed frequently partook of a grace not unworthy of the Greeks; and others preferred a lively step, regulated by an appropriate tune. Men sometimes danced with great spirit, bounding from the ground more in the manner of Europeans than of an Eastern people; on which occasions the music was not always composed of many instruments, but consisted only of crotala or maces, a [168]man clapping his hand, and a woman snapping her fingers to the time.

Graceful attitudes and gesticulation were the general style of their dance; but, as in other countries, the taste of the performance varied according to the rank of the person by whom they were employed, or their own skill; and the dance at the house of a priest differed from that among the uncouth peasantry, or the lower classes of townsmen.

It was not customary for the upper orders of Egyptians to indulge in this amusement, either in public or private assemblies, and none appear to have practiced it but the lower ranks of society, and those who gained their livelihood by attending festive meetings. The Greeks, however, though they employed women who professed music and dancing, to entertain the guests, looked upon the dance as a recreation in which all classes might indulge, and an accomplishment becoming a gentleman; and it was also a Jewish custom for young ladies to dance at private entertainments, as it still is at Damascus and other Eastern towns.

The Romans, on the contrary, were far from considering it worthy of a man of rank, or of a sensible person; and Cicero says: "No man who is sober dances, unless he is out of his mind, either when alone, or in any decent society; for dancing is the companion of wanton conviviality, dissoluteness, and luxury."

Nor did the Greeks indulge in it to excess; and effeminate dances, or extraordinary gesticulation, were deemed indecent in men of character and wisdom. Indeed, Herodotus tells a story of Hippoclides, the Athenian, who had been preferred before all the nobles of Greece, as a husband for the daughter of Clisthenes, king of Argos, having been rejected on account of his extravagant gestures in the dance.

Of all the Greeks, the Ionians were most noted for their fondness of this art; and, from the wanton and indecent tendency of their songs and gestures, dances of a voluptuous character [169](like those of the modern Almehs of the East) were styled by the Romans "Ionic movements." Moderate dancing was even deemed worthy of the gods themselves. Jupiter, "the father of gods and men," is represented dancing in the midst of the other deities; and Apollo is not only introduced by Homer thus engaged, but received the title of "the dancer," from his supposed excellence in the art.

Grace in posture and movement was the chief object of those employed at the assemblies of the rich Egyptians; and the ridiculous gestures of the buffoon were permitted there, so long as they did not transgress the rules of decency and moderation. Music was always indispensable, whether at the festive meetings of the rich or poor; and they danced to the sound of the harp, lyre, guitar, pipe, tambourine, and other instruments, and, in the streets, even to the drum.

Many of their postures resembled those of the modern ballet, and the pirouette delighted an Egyptian party four thousand years ago.

The dresses of the female dancers were light, and of the finest texture, showing, by their transparent quality, the forms and movement of the limbs; they generally consisted of a loose flowing robe, reaching to the ankles, occasionally fastened tight at the waist; and round the hips was a small narrow girdle, adorned with beads, or ornaments of various colors. Sometimes the dancing figures appear to have been perfectly naked; but this is from the outline of the transparent robe having been effaced; and, like the Greeks, they represented the contour of the figure as if seen through the dress.

Slaves were taught dancing as well as music; and in the houses of the rich, besides their other occupations, that of dancing to entertain the family, or a party of friends, was required of them; and free Egyptians also gained a livelihood by their performances.

[170]While the party was amused with music and dancing, and the late arrivals were successively announced, refreshments continued to be handed round, and every attention was shown to the assembled guests. Wine was offered to each new comer, and chaplets of flowers were brought by men servants to the gentlemen, and by women or white slaves to the ladies, as they took their seats. An upper servant, or slave, had the office of handing the wine, and a black woman sometimes followed, in an inferior capacity, to receive an empty cup when the wine had been poured into the goblet. The same black slave also carried the fruits and other refreshments; and the peculiar mode of holding a plate with the hand reversed, so generally adopted by women from Africa, is characteristically shown in the Theban paintings.

To each person after drinking a napkin was presented for wiping the mouth, answering to the mahrama of the modern Egyptians; and the bearer of it uttered a complimentary sentiment, when she offered it and received back the goblet: as, "May it benefit you!" and no oriental at the present day drinks water without receiving a similar wish. But it was not considered rude to refuse wine when offered, even though it had been poured out; and a teetotaller might continue smelling a lotus without any affront.

Men and women either sat together, or separately, in a different part of the room; but no rigid mistrust prevented strangers, as well as members of the family, being received into the same society; which shows how greatly the Egyptians were advanced in the habits of social life. In this they, like the Romans, differed widely from the Greeks, and might say with Cornelius Nepos, "Which of us is ashamed to bring his wife to an entertainment? and what mistress of a family can be shown who does not inhabit the chief and most frequented part of the house? Whereas in Greece she never appears at any entertainments, except those to which relations alone are invited, and constantly [171]lives in the women's apartments at the upper part of the house, into which no man has admission, unless he be a near relation." Nor were married people afraid of sitting together, and no idea of their having had too much of each other's company made it necessary to divide them. In short, they were the most Darby and Joan people possible, and they shared the same chair at home, at a party, and even in their tomb, where sculpture grouped them together.

The master and mistress of the house accordingly sat side by side on a large fauteuil, and each guest as he arrived walked up to receive their welcome. The musicians and dancers hired for the occasion also did obeisance to them, before they began their part. To the leg of the fauteuil was tied a favorite monkey, a dog, a gazelle, or some other pet; and a young child was permitted to sit on the ground at the side of its mother, or on its father's knee.

In the meantime the conversation became animated, especially in those parts of the room where the ladies sat together, and the numerous subjects that occurred to them were fluently discussed. Among these the question of dress was not forgotten, and the patterns, or the value of trinkets, were examined with proportionate interest. The maker of an ear-ring, and the store where it was purchased, were anxiously inquired; each compared the workmanship, the style, and the materials of those she wore, coveted her neighbor's, or preferred her own; and women of every class vied with each other in the display of "jewels of silver and jewels of gold," in the texture of their "raiment," the neatness of their sandals, and the arrangement or beauty of their plaited hair.

It was considered a pretty compliment to offer each other a flower from their own bouquet, and all the vivacity of the Egyptians was called forth as they sat together. The hosts omitted nothing that could make their party pass off pleasantly, and keep [172]up agreeable conversation, which was with them the great charm of accomplished society, as with the Greeks, who thought it "more requisite and becoming to gratify the company by cheerful conversation, than with variety of dishes." The guests, too, neglected no opportunity of showing how much they enjoyed themselves; and as they drew each other's attention to the many nick-nacks that adorned the rooms, paid a well-turned compliment to the taste of the owner of the house. They admired the vases, the carved boxes of wood or ivory, and the light tables on which many a curious trinket was displayed; and commended the elegance and comfort of the luxurious fauteuils, the rich cushions and coverings of the couches and ottomans, the carpets and the other furniture. Some, who were invited to see the sleeping apartments, found in the ornaments on the toilet-tables, and in the general arrangements, fresh subjects for admiration; and their return to the guest-chamber gave an opportunity of declaring that good taste prevailed throughout the whole house. On one occasion, while some of the delighted guests were in these raptures of admiration, and others were busied with the chitchat, perhaps the politics, or the scandal of the day, an awkward youth, either from inadvertence, or a little too much wine, reclined against a wooden column placed in the centre of the room to support some temporary ornament, and threw it down upon those who sat beneath it.[20] The confusion was great: the women screamed; and some, with uplifted hands, endeavored to protect their heads and escape its fall. No one, however, seems to have been hurt; and the harmony of the party being restored, the incident afforded fresh matter for conversation; to be related in full detail to their friends, when they returned home.

The vases were very numerous, and varied in shape, size, and materials; being of hard stone, alabaster, glass, ivory, bone, porcelain, bronze, brass, silver, or gold; and those of the poorer [173]classes were of glazed pottery, or common earthenware. Many of their ornamental vases, as well as those in ordinary use, were of the most elegant shape, which would do honor to the Greeks, the Egyptians frequently displaying in these objects of private luxe the taste of a highly refined people; and so strong a resemblance did they bear to the productions of the best epochs of ancient Greece, both in their shape and in the fancy devices upon them, that some might even suppose them borrowed from Greek patterns. But they were purely Egyptian, and had been universally adopted in the valley of the Nile, long before the graceful forms we admire were known in Greece; a fact invariably acknowledged by those who are acquainted with the remote age of Egyptian monuments, and of the paintings that represent them.

For some of the most elegant date in the early age of the third Thothmes, who lived between 3,300 and 3,400 years before our time; and we not only admire their forms, but the richness of the materials of which they were made, their color, as well as the hieroglyphics, showing them to have been of gold and silver, or of this last, inlaid with the more precious metal.

Those of bronze, alabaster, glass, porcelain, and even of ordinary pottery, were also deserving of admiration, from the beauty of their shapes, the designs which ornamented them, and the superior quality of the material; and gold and silver cups were [174]often beautifully engraved, and studded with precious stones. Among these we readily distinguish the green emerald, the purple amethyst, and other gems; and when an animal's head adorned their handles, the eyes were frequently composed of them, except when enamel, or some colored composition, was employed as a substitute.

While the guests were entertained with music and the dance dinner was prepared; but as it consisted of a considerable number of dishes, and the meat was killed for the occasion, as at the present day in Eastern and tropical climates, some time elapsed before it was put upon table. An ox, kid, wild goat, gazelle or an oryx, and a quantity of geese, ducks, teal, quails and other birds, were generally selected; but mutton was excluded from a Theban table. Plutarch even states that "no Egyptians would eat the flesh of sheep, except the Lycopolites," who did so out of compliment to the wolves they venerated; and Strabo confines the sacrifice of them to the Nome of Nitriotis. But though sheep were not killed for the altar or the table, they abounded in Egypt and even at Thebes; and large flocks were kept for their wool, particularly in the neighborhood of Memphis. Sometimes a flock consisted of more than 2,000; and in a tomb below the Pyramids, dating upwards of 4,000 years ago, 974 rams are brought to be registered by his scribes, as part of the stock of the deceased; implying an equal number of ewes, independent of lambs.

A considerable quantity of meat was served up at those repasts, to which strangers were invited, as among people of the East at the present day; whose azooma, or feast, prides itself in the quantity and variety of dishes, in the unsparing profusion of viands, and, whenever wine is permitted, in the freedom of the bowl. An endless succession of vegetables was also required on all occasions; and, when dining in private, dishes composed chiefly of them were in greater request than joints, even at the tables of the rich, and consequently the Israelites, who, by their long [175]residence there, had acquired similar habits, regretted them equally with the meat and fish of Egypt.

Their mode of dining was very similar to that now adopted in Cairo and throughout the East; each person sitting round a table, and dipping his bread into a dish placed in the centre, removed on a sign made by the host, and succeeded by others, whose rotation depends on established rule, and whose number is predetermined according to the size of the party, or the quality of the guests.

Among the lower orders, vegetables constituted a very great part of their ordinary food, and they gladly availed themselves of the variety and abundance of esculent roots growing spontaneously, in the lands irrigated by the rising Nile, as soon as its waters had subsided; some of which were eaten in a crude state, and others roasted in the ashes, boiled or stewed: their chief aliment, and that of their children, consisting of milk and cheese, roots, leguminous, cucurbitaceous and other plants, and the ordinary fruits of the country. Herodotus describes the food of the workmen who built the Pyramids, to have been the "raphanus, onions and garlic;" the first of which, now called figl, is like a turnip-radish in flavor; but he has omitted one more vegetable, lentils, which were always, as at the present day, the chief article of their diet; and which Strabo very properly adds to the number.

The nummulite rock, in the vicinity of those monuments, frequently presents a conglomerate of testacea imbedded in it, which, in some positions, resemble small seeds; and Strabo imagines they were the petrified residue of the lentils brought there by the workmen, from their having been the ordinary food of the laboring classes, and of all the lower orders of Egyptians.

Much attention was bestowed on the culture of this useful pulse, and certain varieties became remarkable for their excellence, the lentils of Pelusium being esteemed both in Egypt and in foreign countries.

[176]That dinner was served up at mid-day, may be inferred from the invitation given by Joseph to his brethren; but it is probable that, like the Romans, they also ate supper in the evening, as is still the custom in the East. The table was much the same as that of the present day in Egypt: a small stool, supporting a round tray, on which the dishes are placed; but it differed from this in having its circular summit fixed on a pillar, or leg, which was often in the form of a man, generally a captive, who supported the slab upon his head; the whole being of stone, or some hard wood. On this the dishes were placed, together with loaves of bread, some of which were not unlike those of the present day in Egypt, flat and round as our crumpets. Others had the form of rolls or cakes, sprinkled with seeds.

It was not generally covered with any linen, but, like the Greek table, was washed with a sponge, or napkin, after the dishes were removed, and polished by the servants, when the company had retired; though an instance sometimes occurs of a napkin spread on it, at least on those which bore offerings in honor of the dead.

One or two guests generally sat at a table, though from the mention of persons seated in rows according to rank, it has been supposed the tables were occasionally of a long shape, as may have been the case when the brethren of Joseph "sat before him, the first born according to his birth-right, and the youngest according to his youth," Joseph eating alone at another table where "they set on for him by himself." But even if round, they might still sit according to rank; one place being always the post of honor, even at the present day, at the round table of Egypt.

In the houses of the rich, bread was made of wheat; the poorer classes being contented with bakes of barley, or of doora (holcus sorghum), which last is still so commonly used by them; for Herodotus is as wrong in saying that they thought it "the [177]greatest disgrace to live on wheat and barley," as that "no one drank out of any but bronze (or brazen) cups." The drinking cups of the Egyptians not only varied in their materials, but also in their forms. Some were plain and unornamented; others, though of small dimensions, were made after the models of larger vases; many were like our own cups without handles; and others may come under the denomination of beakers, and saucers. Of these the former were frequently made of alabaster, with a round base, so that they could not stand when filled, and were held in the hand, or, when empty, were turned downwards upon their rim: and the saucers, which were of glazed pottery, had sometimes lotus blossoms, or fish, represented on their concave surface.

The tables, as at a Roman repast, were occasionally brought in, and removed, with the dishes on them; sometimes each joint was served up separately, and the fruit, deposited in a plate or trencher, succeeded the meat at the close of the dinner; but in less fashionable circles, particularly of the olden time, fruit was brought in baskets, which stood beside the table. The dishes consisted of fish; meat boiled, roasted, and dressed in various ways; game, poultry, and a profusion of vegetables and fruit, particularly figs and grapes, during the season; and a soup, or "pottage of lentils," as with the modern Egyptians, was not an unusual dish.

Of figs and grapes they were particularly fond, which is shown by their constant introduction, even among the choice offerings presented to the gods; and figs of the sycamore must have been highly esteemed, since they were selected as the heavenly fruit, given by the goddess Netpe to those who were judged worthy of admission to the regions of eternal happiness. Fresh dates during the season, and in a dried state at other periods of the year, were also brought to table, as well as a preserve of the [178]fruit, made into a cake of the same form as the tamarinds now brought from the interior of Africa, and sold in the Cairo market.

The guests sat on the ground, or on stools and chairs, and, having neither knives and forks, nor any substitute for them answering to the chop-sticks of the Chinese, they ate with their fingers, like the modern Asiatics, and invariably with the right hand; nor did the Jews and Etruscans, though they had forks for other purposes, use any at table.

Spoons were introduced when required for soup, or other liquids; and, perhaps, even a knife was employed on some occasions, to facilitate the carving of a large joint, which is sometimes done in the East at the present day.

The Egyptians washed after, as well as before, dinner; an invariable custom throughout the East, as among the Greeks, Romans, Hebrews, and others; and Herodotus speaks of a golden basin, belonging to Amasis, which was used by the King, and "the guests who were in the habit of eating at his table."

An absorbent seems also to have been adopted for scouring the hands; and a powder of ground lupins, the doqaq of modern Egypt, is no doubt an old invention, handed down to the present inhabitants.

Soap was not unknown to the ancients, and a small quantity has been found at Pompeii. Pliny, who mentions it as an invention of the Gauls, says it was made of fat and ashes; and Aretæus, the physician of Cappadocia, tells us that the Greeks borrowed their knowledge of its medicinal properties from the Romans. But there is no evidence of soap having been used by the Egyptians; and if by accident they discovered something of the kind, while engaged with mixtures of natron or potash, and other ingredients, it is probable that it was only an absorbent, without oil or grease, and on a par with steatite, or the argillaceous earths, with which, no doubt, they were long acquainted.

The Egyptians, a scrupulously religious people, were never [179]remiss in expressing their gratitude for the blessings they enjoyed, and in returning thanks to the gods for that peculiar protection they were thought to extend to them and to their country, above all the nations of the earth.

They, therefore, never sat down to meals without saying grace; and Josephus says that when the seventy-two elders were invited by Ptolemy Philadelphus to sup at the palace, Nicanor requested Eleazer to say grace for his countrymen, instead of those Egyptians to whom that duty was committed on other occasions.

It was also a custom of the Egyptians, during or after their repasts, to introduce a wooden image of Osiris, from one foot and a half to three feet in height, in the form of a human mummy, standing erect, or lying on a bier, and to show it to each of the guests, warning him of his mortality, and the transitory nature of human pleasures. He was reminded that some day he would be like that figure; that men ought "to love one another, and avoid those evils which tend to make them consider life too long, when in reality it is too short;" and while enjoying the blessings of this world, to bear in mind that their existence was precarious, and that death, which all ought to be prepared to meet, must eventually close their earthly career.

Thus, while the guests were permitted, and even encouraged, to indulge in conviviality, the pleasures of the table, and the mirth so congenial to their lively disposition, they were exhorted to put a certain degree of restraint upon their conduct; and though this sentiment was perverted by other people, and used as an incentive to present excesses, it was perfectly consistent with the ideas of the Egyptians to be reminded that this life was only a lodging, or "inn" on their way, and that their existence here was the preparation for a future state.

"The ungodly," too, of Solomon's time, thus expressed themselves: "Our life is short and tedious, and in the death of a [180]man there is no remedy; neither was there any man known to have returned from the grave. For we are born at all adventure, and we shall be hereafter as though we had never been, ... come on, therefore, let us enjoy the good things that are present, ... let us fill ourselves with costly wine and ointments; and let no flower of the spring pass by us; let us crown ourselves with rosebuds, before they be withered; let none of us go without his part of our voluptuousness; let us leave tokens of our joyfulness in every place."

But even if the Egyptians, like other men, neglected a good warning, the original object of it was praiseworthy; and Plutarch expressly states that it was intended to convey a moral lesson. The idea of death had nothing revolting to them; and so little did the Egyptians object to have it brought before them, that they even introduced the mummy of a deceased relative at their parties, and placed it at table, as one of the guests; a fact which is recorded by Lucian, in his "Essay on Grief," and of which he declares himself to have been an eye-witness.

After dinner, music and singing were resumed; hired men and women displayed feats of agility; swinging each other round by the hand; throwing up and catching the ball; or flinging themselves round backwards head-over-heels, in imitation of a wheel; which was usually a performance of women. They also stood on each other's backs, and made a somersault from that position; and a necklace, or other reward, was given to the most successful tumbler.

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[181]

Egyptian Music and Entertainments.

Though impossible for us now to form any notion of the character or style of Egyptian music, we may be allowed to conjecture that it was studied on scientific principles; and, whatever defects existed in the skill of ordinary performers, who gained their livelihood by playing in public, or for the entertainment of a private party, music was looked upon as an important science, and diligently studied by the priests themselves. According to Diodorus it was not customary to make music part of their education, being deemed useless and even injurious, as tending to render the minds of men effeminate; but this remark can only apply to the custom of studying it as an amusement. Plato, who was well acquainted with the usages of the Egyptians, says that they considered music of the greatest consequence, from its beneficial effects upon the mind of youth; and according to Strabo, the children of the Egyptians were taught letters, the songs appointed by law, and a certain kind of music, established by government.

That the Egyptians were particularly fond of music is abundantly proved by the paintings in their tombs of the earliest times; and we even find they introduced figures performing on the favorite instruments of the country, among the devices with which they adorned fancy boxes or trinkets. The skill of the Egyptians in the use of musical instruments is also noticed by Athenæus, who says that both the Greeks and barbarians were taught by [182]refugees from Egypt, and that the Alexandrians were the most scientific and skillful players on pipes and other instruments.

It is sufficiently evident, from the sculptures of the ancient Egyptians, that their hired musicians were acquainted with the triple symphony: the harmony of instruments; of voices; and of voices and instruments. Their band was variously composed, consisting either of two harps, with the single pipe and flute; of the harp and double pipe, frequently with the addition of the guitar; of a fourteen-stringed harp, a guitar, lyre, double pipe, and tambourine; of two harps, sometimes of different sizes, one of seven, the other of four, strings; of two harps of eight chords, and a seven-stringed lyre; of the guitar and the square or oblong tambourine; of the lyre, harp, guitar, double pipe, and a sort of harp with four strings, which was held upon the shoulder; of the harp, guitar, double pipe, lyre, and square tambourine; of the harp, two guitars, and the double pipe; of the harp, two flutes, and a guitar; of two harps and a flute; of a seventeen-stringed lyre, the double pipe, and a harp of fourteen chords; of the harp and two guitars; or of two seven-stringed harps and an instrument held in the hand, not unlike an eastern fan, to which were probably attached small bells, or pieces of metal that emitted a jingling sound when shaken, like the crescent-crowned bells of our modern bands. There were many other combinations of these various instruments; and in the Bacchic festival of Ptolemy Philadelphus, described by Athenæus, more than 600 musicians were employed in the chorus, among whom were 300 performers on the cithara.

Sometimes the harp was played alone, or as an accompaniment to the voice; and a band of seven or more choristers frequently sang to it a favorite air, beating time with their hands between each stanza. They also sang to other instruments, as the lyre, guitar or double pipe; or to several of them played together, as the flute and one or more harps; or to these last with [183]a lyre or a guitar. It was not unusual for one man or one woman to perform a solo; and a chorus of many persons occasionally sang at a private assembly without any instrument, two or three beating time at intervals with the hand. Sometimes the band of choristers consisted of more than twenty persons, only two of whom responded by clapping their hands; and in one instance we have seen a female represented holding what was perhaps another kind of jingling instrument.

The custom of beating time by clapping the hands between the stanzas is still usual in Egypt.

On some occasions women beat the tambourine and darabooka drum, without the addition of any other instrument; dancing or singing to the sound; and bearing palm branches or green twigs in their hands, they proceeded to the tomb of a deceased friend, accompanied by this species of music. The same custom may still be traced in the Friday visit to the cemetery, and in some other funeral ceremonies among the Moslem peasants of modern Egypt.

If it was not customary for the higher classes of Egyptians to learn music for the purpose of playing in society, and if few amateur performers could be found among persons of rank, still some general knowledge of the art must have been acquired by a people so alive to its charms; and the attention paid to it by the priests regulated the taste, and prevented the introduction of a vitiated style.

Those who played at the houses of the rich, as well as the ambulant musicians of the streets, were of the lower classes, and made this employment the means of obtaining their livelihood; and in many instances both the minstrels and the choristers were blind.

It was not so necessary an accomplishment for the higher classes of Egyptians as of the Greeks, who, as Cicero says, "considered the arts of singing and playing upon musical instruments [184]a very principal part of learning; whence it is related of Epaminondas, who, in my judgment, was the first of all the Greeks, that he played very well upon the flute. And, some time before, Themistocles, upon refusing the harp at an entertainment, passed for an uninstructed and ill-bred person. Hence, Greece became celebrated for skillful musicians; and as all persons there learned music, those who attained to no proficiency in it were thought uneducated and unaccomplished."

Cornelius Nepos also states that Epaminondas "played the harp and flute, and perfectly understood the art of dancing, with other liberal sciences," which, "though trivial things in the opinion of the Romans, were reckoned highly commendable in Greece."

The Israelites also delighted in music and the dance; and persons of rank deemed them a necessary part of their education. Like the Egyptians with whom they had so long resided, the Jews carefully distinguished sacred from profane music. They introduced it at public and private rejoicings, at funerals, and in religious services; but the character of the airs, like the words of their songs, varied according to the occasion; and they had canticles of mirth, of praise, of thanksgiving, and of lamentation. Some were epithalamia, or songs composed to celebrate marriages; others to commemorate a victory, or the accession of a prince; to return thanks to the Deity, or to celebrate his praises; to lament a general calamity, or a private affliction; and others, again, were peculiar to their festive meetings. On these occasions they introduced the harp, lute, tabret, and various instruments, together with songs and dancing, and the guests were entertained nearly in the same manner as at an Egyptian feast. In the temple, and in the religious ceremonies, the Jews had female as well as male performers, who were generally daughters of the Levites, as the Pallaces of Thebes were either of the royal family, or the daughters of priests; and these musicians were attached exclusively to the service of religion.

[185]David was not only remarkable for his taste and skill in music, but took a delight in introducing it on every occasion. "And seeing that the Levites were numerous, and no longer employed as formerly in carrying the boards, veils, and vessels of the tabernacle, its abode being fixed at Jerusalem, he appointed a great part of them to sing and play on instruments, at the religious festivals."

Solomon, again, at the dedication of the temple, employed "120 priests, to sound with trumpets;" and Josephus pretends that no less than 200,000 musicians were present at that ceremony, besides the same number of singers, who were Levites.

When hired to attend at a private entertainment, the musicians either stood in the centre, or at one side, of the festive chamber, and some sat cross-legged on the ground, like the Turks and other Eastern people of the present day. They were usually accompanied on these occasions by dancers, either men or women, sometimes both; whose art consisted in assuming all the graceful or ludicrous gestures, which could obtain the applause, or tend to the amusement, of the assembled guests. For music and dancing were considered as essential at their entertainments, as among the Greeks; but it is by no means certain that these diversions counteracted the effect of wine, as Plutarch imagines; a sprightly air is more likely to have invited another glass; and sobriety at a feast was not one of the objects of the lively Egyptians.

They indulged freely in whatever tended to increase their enjoyment, and wine flowed freely at their entertainments.

Private individuals were under no particular restrictions with regard to its use, and it was not forbidden to women. In this they differed widely from the Romans; for in early times no female at Rome enjoyed the privilege, and it was unlawful for women, or, indeed, for young men below the age of thirty, to drink wine, except at sacrifices.

Even at a later time the Romans considered it disgraceful [186]for a woman to drink wine; and they sometimes saluted a female relation, whom they suspected, in order to discover if she had secretly indulged in its use. It was afterwards allowed them on the plea of health.

That Egyptian women were not forbidden the use of wine, is evident from the frescoes which represent their feasts; and the painters, in illustrating this fact, have sometimes sacrificed their gallantry to a love of caricature. Some call the servants to support them as they sit, others with difficulty prevent themselves from falling on those behind them; a basin is brought too late by a reluctant servant, and the faded flower, which is ready to drop from their heated hands, is intended to be characteristic of their own sensations.

That the consumption of wine in Egypt was very great is evident from the sculptures, and from the accounts of ancient authors, some of whom have censured the Egyptians for their excesses; and so much did the quantity used exceed that made in the country, that, in the time of Herodotus, twice every year a large importation was received from Phœnicia and Greece.

Notwithstanding all the injunctions or exhortations of the priests in favor of temperance, the Egyptians of both sexes appear from the sculptures to have committed occasional excesses, and men were sometimes unable to walk from a feast, and were carried home by servants. These scenes, however, do not appear to refer to members of the higher, but of the lower, classes, some of whom indulged in extravagant buffoonery, dancing in a ludicrous manner, or standing on their heads, and frequently in amusements which terminated in a fight.

At the tables of the rich, stimulants were sometimes introduced, to excite the palate before drinking, and Athenæus mentions cabbages as one of the vegetables used by the Egyptians for this purpose.

Besides beer, the Egyptians had what Pliny calls factitious, [187]or artificial, wine, extracted from various fruits, as figs, myxas, pomegranates, as well as herbs, some of which were selected for their medicinal properties. The Greeks and Latins comprehended every kind of beverage made by the process of fermentation under the same general name, and beer was designated as barley-wine; but, by the use of the name zythos, they show that the Egyptians distinguished it by its own peculiar appellation. Palm-wine was also made in Egypt, and used in the process of embalming.

The palm-wine now made in Egypt and the Oases is simply from an incision in the heart of the tree, immediately below the base of the upper branches, and a jar is attached to the part to catch the juice which exudes from it. But a palm thus tapped is rendered perfectly useless as a fruit-bearing tree, and generally dies in consequence; and it is reasonable to suppose that so great a sacrifice is seldom made except when date-trees are to be felled, or when they grow in great abundance.

The modern name of this beverage in Egypt is lowbgeh; in flavor it resembles a very new light wine, and may be drunk in great quantity when taken from the tree; but, as soon as the fermentation has commenced, its intoxicating qualities have a powerful and speedy effect.

Among the various fruit-trees cultivated by the ancient Egyptians, palms, of course, held the first rank, as well from their abundance as from their great utility. The fruit constituted a principal part of their food, both in the month of August, when it was gathered fresh from the trees, and at other seasons of the year, when it was used in a preserved state.

They had two different modes of keeping the dates; one was by the simple process of drying them, the other was by making them into a conserve, like the agweh of the present day; and of this, which was eaten either cooked or as a simple [188]sweetmeat, there have been found some cakes, as well as the dried dates, in the sepulchres of Thebes.

Pliny makes a just remark respecting the localities where the palm prospers, and the constant irrigation it requires; and though every one in the East knows the tree will not grow except where water is abundant, we still read of "palm-trees of the desert," as if it delighted in an arid district. Wherever it is found it is a sure indication of water; and if it may be said to flourish in a sandy soil, this is only in situations where its roots can obtain a certain quantity of moisture. The numerous purposes for which its branches and other parts might be applied rendered the cultivation of this valuable and productive tree a matter of primary importance, for no portion of it is without its peculiar use.

The trunk serves for beams, either entire, or split in half; of the gereet, or branches, are made wicker baskets, bedsteads, coops, and ceilings of rooms, answering every purpose for which laths or any thin woodwork are required; the leaves are converted into mats, brooms, and baskets; of the fibrous tegument as the base of the branches, strong ropes and mats are made, and even the thick ends of the gereet are beaten flat and formed into brooms.

Besides the lowbgeh of the tree, brandy, wine, and vinegar are made from the fruit; and the quantity of saccharine matter in the dates might be used in default of sugar or honey.

In Upper Egypt another tree called the Dom, or Theban palm, was also much cultivated, and its wood, more solid and compact than the date-tree, is found to answer as well for rafts, and other purposes connected with water, as for beams and rafters.

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[189]

Games and Sports of the Egyptians.

The game of morra was common in ancient as well as modern Italy, and was played by two persons, who each simultaneously threw out the fingers of one hand, while one party guessed the sum of both. They were said in Latin, "micare digitis," and this game, still so common among the lower order of Indians, existed in Egypt, about four thousand years ago, in the reigns of the Osirtasens.

The same, or even a greater, antiquity may be claimed for the game of draughts, or, as it has been called, chess. As in the two former, the players sat on the ground, or on chairs, and the pieces, or men, being ranged in line at either end of the tables, moved on a chequered board, as in our own chess.

The pieces were all of the same size and form, though they varied on different boards, some being small, others large with round summits: some were surmounted by human heads; and many were of a lighter and neater shape, like small nine-pins, probably the most fashionable kind, since they were used in the palace of king Remeses. These last seem to have been about one inch and a half high, standing on a circular base of half an inch in diameter; but some are only one inch and a quarter in height, and little more than half an inch broad at the lower end. Others have been found, of ivory, one inch and six eighths high, and one and an eighth in diameter, with a small knob at the top, exactly like those represented at Beni Hassan, and the tombs near the Pyramids.

[190]They were about equal in size upon the same board, one set black, the other white or red; or one with round, the other with flat heads, standing on opposite sides; and each player, raising it with the finger and thumb, advanced his piece towards those of his opponent; but though we are unable to say if this was done in a direct or a diagonal line, there is reason to believe they could not take backwards as in the Polish game of chess, the men being mixed together on the board.

It was an amusement common in the houses of the lower classes, as in the mansions of the rich; and king Remeses is himself portrayed on the walls of his palace at Thebes, engaged in the game of chess with the ladies of his household.

The modern Egyptians have a game of chess, very similar, in the appearance of the men, to that of their ancestors, which they call dameh, and play much in the same manner as our own.

Analogous to the game of odd and even was one, in which two of the players held a number of shells, or dice, in their closed hands, over a third person who knelt between them, with his face towards the ground, and who was obliged to guess the combined number ere he could be released from this position.

Another game consisted in endeavoring to snatch from each other a small hoop, by means of hooked rods, probably of metal; and the success of a player seems to have depended on extricating his own from an adversary's rod, and then snatching up the hoop, before he had time to stop it.

There were also two games, of which the boards, with the men, are in the possession of Dr. Abbott. One is eleven inches long by three and a half, and has ten spaces or squares in three rows; the other twelve squares at the upper end (or four squares in three rows) and a long line of eight squares below, forming an approach to the upper part, like the arrangement of German tactics. The men in the drawer of the board are of two shapes, one set ten, the other nine in number.

[191]Other games are represented in the paintings, but not in a manner to render them intelligible; and many, which were doubtless common in Egypt, are omitted both in the tombs, and in the writings of ancient authors.

The dice discovered at Thebes and other places, may not be of a Pharaonic period, but, from the simplicity of their form, we may suppose them similar to those of the earliest age, in which, too, the conventional number of six sides had probably always been adopted. They were marked with small circles, representing units, generally with a dot in the centre; and were of bone or ivory, varying slightly in size.

Plutarch shows that dice were a very early invention in Egypt, and acknowledged to be so by the Egyptians themselves, since they were introduced into one of their oldest mythological fables; Mercury being represented playing at dice with the Moon, previous to the birth of Osiris, and winning from her the five days of the epact, which were added to complete the 365 days of the year.

It is probable that several games of chance were known to the Egyptians, besides dice and morra, and, as with the Romans, that many a doubtful mind sought relief in the promise of success, by having recourse to fortuitous combinations of various kinds; and the custom of drawing, or casting lots, was common, at least as early as the period of the Hebrew Exodus.

The games and amusements of children were such as tended to promote health by the exercise of the body, and to divert the mind by laughable entertainments. Throwing and catching the ball, running, leaping, and similar feats, were encouraged, as soon as their age enabled them to indulge in them; and a young child was amused with painted dolls, whose hands and legs, moving on pins, were made to assume various positions by means of strings. Some of these were of rude form, without legs, or with an imperfect representation of a single arm on one side. Some had [192]numerous beads, in imitation of hair, hanging from the doubtful place of the head; others exhibited a nearer approach to the form of a man; and some, made with considerable attention to proportion, were small models of the human figure. They were colored according to fancy; and the most shapeless had usually the most gaudy appearance, being intended to catch the eye of an infant. Sometimes a man was figured washing, or kneading dough, who was made to work by pulling a string; and a typhonian monster, or a crocodile, amused a child by its grimaces, or the motion of its opening mouth. In the toy of the crocodile, we have sufficient evidence that the notion of this animal "not moving its lower jaw, and being the only creature which brings the upper one down to the lower," is erroneous. Like other animals, it moves the lower jaw only; but when seizing its prey, it throws up its head, which gives an appearance of motion in the upper jaw, and has led to the mistake.

The game of ball was of course generally played out of doors. It was not confined to children, nor to one sex, though the mere amusement of throwing and catching it appears to have been considered more particularly adapted to women. They had different modes of playing. Sometimes a person unsuccessful in catching the ball was obliged to suffer another to ride on her back, who continued to enjoy this post until she also missed it; the ball being thrown by an opposite player, mounted in the same manner, and placed at a certain distance, according to the space previously agreed upon; and, from the beast-of-burden office of the person who had failed, the same name was probably applied to her as to those in the Greek game, "who were called asses, and were obliged to submit to the commands of the victor."

Sometimes they caught three or more balls in succession, the hands occasionally crossed over the breast; they also threw it up to a height and caught it, like our "sky-ball;" and the game described by Homer to have been played by Halius and Laodamus, [193]in the presence of Alcinous, was known to them; in which one party threw the ball as high as he could, and the other, leaping up, caught it on its fall, before his feet again touched the ground.

When mounted on the backs of the losing party, the Egyptian women sat sidewise. Their dress consisted merely of a short petticoat, without a body, the loose upper robe being laid aside on these occasions; it was bound at the waist with a girdle, supported by a strap over the shoulder, and was nearly the same as the undress garb of mourners, worn during the funeral lamentation on the death of a friend.

The balls were made of leather or skin, sewed with string, crosswise, in the same manner as our own, and stuffed with bran, or husks of corn; and those which have been found at Thebes are about three inches in diameter. Others were made of string, or of the stalks of rushes, platted together so as to form a circular mass, and covered, like the former, with leather. They appear also to have had a smaller kind of ball probably of the same materials, and covered, like many of our own, with slips of leather of a rhomboidal shape, sewed together longitudinally, and meeting in a common point at both ends, each alternate slip being of a different color; but these have only been met with in pottery.

In one of their performances of strength and dexterity, two men stood together side by side, and, placing one arm forward and the other behind them, held the hands of two women, who reclined backwards, in opposite directions, with their whole weight pressed against each other's feet, and in this position were whirled round; the hands of the men who held them being occasionally crossed, in order more effectually to guarantee the steadiness of the centre, on which they turned.

Sometimes two men, seated back to back on the ground, at a given signal tried who should rise first from that position, without touching the ground with the hand. And in this, too, there [194]was probably the trial who should first make good his seat upon the ground, from a standing position.

Another game consisted in throwing a knife, or pointed weapon, into a block of wood, in which each player was required to strike his adversary's, or more probably to fix his own in the centre, or at the circumference, of a ring painted on the wood; and his success depended on being able to ring his weapon most frequently, or approach most closely to the line.

Conjuring appears also to have been known to them, at least thimble-rig, or the game of cups, under which a ball was put, while the opposite party guessed under which of four it was concealed.

The Egyptian grandees frequently admitted dwarfs, and deformed persons, into their household; originally, perhaps, from a humane motive, or from some superstitious regard for men who bore the external character of one of their principal gods, Pthah-Sokari-Osiris, the misshapen Deity of Memphis; but, whatever may have given rise to the custom, it is a singular fact, that already as early as the age of Osirtasen, or about 4,000 years ago, the same fancy of attaching these persons to their suite existed among the Egyptians, as at Rome, and even in modern Europe, till a late period.

The games of the lower orders, and of those who sought to invigorate the body by active exercises, consisted of feats of agility and strength. Wrestling was a favorite amusement; and the paintings at Beni Hassan present all the varied attitudes and modes of attack and defence of which it is susceptible. And, in order to enable the spectator more readily to perceive the position of the limbs of each combatant, the artist has availed himself of a dark and light color, and even ventured to introduce alternately a black and red figure. The subject covers a whole wall.

It is probable that, like the Greeks, they anointed the body [195]with oil, when preparing for these exercises, and they were entirely naked, with the exception of a girdle, apparently of leathern thongs.

The two combatants generally approached each other, holding their arms in an inclined position before the body; and each endeavored to seize his adversary in the manner best suited to his mode of attack. It was allowable to take hold of any part of the body, the head, neck, or legs; and the struggle was frequently continued on the ground, after one or both had fallen; a mode of wrestling common also to the Greeks.

They also fought with the single stick, the hand being apparently protected by a basket, or guard projecting over the knuckles; and on the left arm they wore a straight piece of wood, bound on with straps, serving as a shield to ward off their adversary's blow. They do not, however, appear to have used the cestus, nor to have known the art of boxing; though in one group, at Beni Hassan, the combatants appear to strike each other. Nor is there an instance, in any of these contests, of the Greek sign of acknowledging defeat, which was by holding up a finger in token of submission; and it was probably done by the Egyptians with a word. It is also doubtful if throwing the discus, or quoit, was an Egyptian game; but there appears to be one instance of it, in a king's tomb of the 19th dynasty.

One of their feats of strength, or dexterity, was lifting weights; and bags full of sand were raised with one hand from the ground and carried with a straight arm over the head, and held in that position.

Mock fights were also an amusement, particularly among those of the military class, who were trained to the fatigues of war, by these manly recreations. One party attacked a temporary fort, and brought up the battering ram, under cover of the testudo; another defended the walls and endeavored to repel the enemy; others, in two parties of equal numbers, engaged in [196]single stick, or the more usual neboot, a pole wielded with both hands; and the pugnacious spirit of the people is frequently alluded to in the scenes portrayed by their artists.

The use of the neboot seems to have been as common among the ancient, as among the modern, Egyptians; and the quarrels of villages were often decided or increased, as at present, by this efficient weapon.

Crews of boats are also represented attacking each other with the earnestness of real strife. Some are desperately wounded, and, being felled by their more skillful opponents, are thrown headlong into the water; and the truth of Herodotus' assertion, that the heads of the Egyptians were harder than those of other people, seems fully justified by the scenes described by their own draughtsmen.

It is fortunate that their successors have inherited this peculiarity, in order to bear the violence of the Turks, and their own combats.

Many singular encounters with sticks are mentioned by ancient authors; among which may be noticed one at Papremis, the city of Mars, described by Herodotus. When the votaries of the deity presented themselves at the gates of the temple, their entrance was obstructed by an opposing party; and all being armed with sticks, they commenced a rude combat, which ended, not merely in the infliction of a few severe wounds, but even, as the historian affirms, in the death of many persons on either side.

Bull-fights were also among their sports; which were sometimes exhibited in the dromos, or avenue, leading to the temples, as at Memphis before the temple of Vulcan; and prizes were awarded to the owner of the victorious combatant. Great care was taken in training them for this purpose; Strabo says as much as is usually bestowed on horses; and herdsmen were not loth to allow, or encourage, an occasional fight for the love of the exciting and popular amusement.

[197]They did not, however, condemn culprits, or captives taken in war, to fight with wild beasts, for the amusement of an unfeeling assembly; nor did they compel gladiators to kill each other, and gratify a depraved taste by exhibitions revolting to humanity. Their great delight was in amusements of a lively character, as music, dancing, buffoonery, and feats of agility; and those who excelled in gymnastic exercises were rewarded with prizes of various kinds; which in the country towns consisted, among other things, of cattle, dresses, and skins, as in the games celebrated in Chemmis.

The lively amusements of the Egyptians show that they had not the gloomy character so often attributed to them; and it is satisfactory to have these evidences by which to judge of it, in default of their physiognomy, so unbecomingly altered by death, bitumen, and bandages.

The intellectual capabilities, however, of individuals may yet be subject to the decision of the phrenologist; and if they have escaped the ordeal of the supposed spontaneous rotation of a pendulum under a glass bell, their handwriting is still open to the criticisms of the wise, who discover by it the most minute secrets of character; and some of the old scribes may even now be amenable to this kind of scrutiny. But they are fortunately out of reach of the surprise, that some in modern days exhibit, at the exact likeness of themselves, believed to be presented to them from their own handwriting by a few clever generalities; forgetting that the sick man, in each malady he reads of in a book of medicine, discovers his own symptoms, and fancies they correspond with his own particular case. For though a certain neatness, or precision, carelessness, or other habit, may be discovered by handwriting, to describe from it all the minutiæ of character is only feeding the love of the marvelous, so much on the increase in these days, when a reaction of credulity bids fair to make nothing too extravagant for our modern gobe-mouches.

[198]Among the various pastimes of the Egyptians, none was more popular than the chase; and the wealthy aristocracy omitted nothing that could promote their favorite amusement. They hunted the numerous wild animals in the desert; they had them caught with nets, to be turned out on some future day; and some very keen sportsmen took long journeys to spots noted for abundance of game.

When a grand chase or hunt took place in the domain of some grandee, or in the extensive tracts of the desert, a retinue of huntsmen, beaters and others in his service, attended to manage the hounds, to carry the game baskets and hunting poles, to set the nets, and to make other preparations for a good day's sport. Some took a fresh supply of arrows, a spare bow, and various requisites for remedying accidents; some were merely beaters, others were to assist in securing the large animals caught by the lasso, others had to mark or turn the game, and some carried a stock of provisions for the chasseur and his friends. These last were borne upon the usual wooden yoke, across the shoulders, and consisted of a skin of water, and jars of good wine placed in wicker baskets, with bread, meats, and other eatables.

Sometimes a portion of the desert of considerable extent, was enclosed by nets, into which the animals were driven by beaters; and the place chosen for fixing them was, if possible, across narrow valleys, or torrent beds, lying between some rocky hills. Here a sportsman on horseback, or in a chariot, could waylay them, or get within reach with a bow; for many animals, particularly gazelles, when closely pressed by dogs, fear to take a steep ascent, and are easily overtaken, or shot as they double back.

The spots thus enclosed were usually in the vicinity of the water brooks, to which they were in the habit of repairing in the morning and evening; and having awaited the time when they went to drink, and ascertained it by their recent tracks on the accustomed path, the hunters disposed the nets, occupied proper [199]positions for observing them unseen, and gradually closed in upon them.

Such are the scenes partially portrayed in the Egyptian paintings, where long nets are represented surrounding the space they hunted in; and the hyænas, jackals, and various wild beasts unconnected with the sport, are intended to show that they have been accidentally enclosed within the same line of nets with the antelopes and other animals.

In the same way Æneas and Dido repaired to a wood at break of day, after the attendants had surrounded it with a temporary fence, to enclose the game.

The long net was furnished with several ropes, and was supported on forked poles, varying in length, to correspond with the inequalities of the ground, and was so contrived as to enclose any space, by crossing hills, valleys or streams, and encircling woods, or whatever might present itself; smaller nets for stopping gaps were also used; and a circular snare, set round with wooden or metal nails, and attached by a rope to a log of wood, which was used for catching deer, resembled one still made by the Arabs.

The dresses of the attendants and huntsmen were generally of a suppressed color, "lest they should be seen at a distance by the animals," tight fitting, and reaching only a short way down the thigh; and the horses of the chariots were divested of the feathers and showy ornaments used on other occasions.

Besides the portions of the open desert and the valleys, which were enclosed for hunting, the parks and covers on their own domains in the valley of the Nile, though of comparatively limited dimensions, offered ample space and opportunity for indulging in the chase; and a quantity of game was kept there, principally the wild goat, oryx, and gazelle.

They had also fish-ponds, and spacious poultry-yards, set apart for keeping geese and other wild fowl, which they fattened for the table.

[200]It was the duty of the huntsmen, or the gamekeepers, to superintend the preserves; and at proper periods of the year wild fawns were obtained, to increase the herds of gazelles and other animals, which always formed part of the stock of a wealthy Egyptian.

The Egyptians frequently coursed with dogs in the open plains, the chasseur following in his chariot, and the huntsmen on foot. Sometimes he only drove to cover in his car, and having alighted, shared in the toil of searching for the game, his attendants keeping the dogs in slips, ready to start them as soon as it appeared. The more usual custom when the dogs threw off in a level plain of great extent, was for him to remain in his chariot, and, urging his horses to their full speed, endeavor to turn or intercept them as they doubled, discharging a well-directed arrow whenever they came within its range.

The dogs were taken to the ground by persons expressly employed for that purpose, and for all the duties connected with the kennel; and were either started one by one or in pairs, in the narrow valleys or open plains; and when coursing on foot, the chasseur and his attendant huntsmen, acquainted with the direction and sinuosities of the torrent beds, shortened the road as they followed across the intervening hills, and sought a favorable opportunity for using the bow; or enjoyed the course in the level space before them.

Having pursued on foot, and arrived at the spot where the dogs had caught their prey, the huntsman, if alone, took up the game, tied its legs together, and hanging it over his shoulders, once more led by his hand the coupled dogs, precisely in the same manner as the Arabs do at the present day. But this was generally the office of persons who carried the cages and baskets on the usual wooden yoke, and who took charge of the game as soon as it was caught; the supply of these substitutes for our game cart being in proportion to the proposed range of the chase, and the number of head they expected to kill.

[201]Sometimes an ibex, oryx, or wild ox, being closely pressed by the hounds, faced round and kept them at bay, with its formidable horns, and the spear of the huntsman as he came up, was required to decide the success of the chase.

It frequently happened, when the chasseur had many attendants and the district to be hunted was extensive, that they divided into parties, each taking one or more dogs, and starting them on whatever animal broke cover; sometimes they went without hounds, merely having a small dog for searching the bushes, or laid in wait for the larger and more formidable animals, and attacked them with the lance.

The noose, or lasso, was also employed to catch the wild ox, the antelope and other animals; but this could only be thrown by lying in ambush for the purpose, and was principally adopted when they wished to secure them alive.

Besides the bow, the hounds and the noose, they hunted with lions, which were trained expressly for the chase, like the cheeta, or hunting leopard of India, being brought up from cubs in a tame state; and many Egyptian monarchs were accompanied in battle by a favorite lion. But there is no instance of hawking.

The bow used for the chase was very similar to that employed in war; the arrows were generally the same, with metal heads, though some were only tipped with stone. The mode of drawing the bow was also the same; and if the chasseurs sometimes pulled the string only to the breast, the more usual method was to raise it, and bring the arrow to the ear; and occasionally, one or more spare arrows were held in the hand, to give greater facility in discharging them with rapidity on the antelopes and oxen.

The animals they chiefly hunted were the gazelle, wild goat or ibex, the oryx, wild ox, stag, kebsh or wild sheep, hare and porcupine; of all of which the meat was highly esteemed among the delicacies of the table; the fox, jackal, wolf, hyæna, and [202]leopard, and others, being chased as an amusement, for the sake of their skins, or as enemies of the farm-yard. For though the fact of the hyæna being sometimes bought with the ibex and gazelle might seem to justify the belief that it was also eaten, there is no instance of its being slaughtered for the table. The ostrich held out a great temptation to the hunter from the value of its plumes. These were in great request among the Egyptians for ornamental purposes; they were also the sacred symbol of truth; and the members of the court on grand occasions decked themselves with the feathers of the ostrich. The labor endured during the chase of this swift-footed bird was amply repaid; even its eggs were required for some ornamental or for some religious use (as with the modern Copts); and, with the plumes, formed part of the tribute imposed by the Egyptians on the conquered countries where it abounded. Lion hunting was a favorite amusement of the kings, and the deserts of Ethiopia always afforded good sport, abounding as they did with lions; their success on those occasions was a triumph they often recorded; and Amunoph III. boasted having brought down in one battue no less than one hundred and two head, either with the bow or spear. For the chase of elephants they went still further south; and, in after times, the Ptolemies had hunting places in Abyssinia.

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FOOTNOTES:

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[203]

DOMESTIC LIFE.ToC

The life of married women, maidens, children while in the care of women, and of female slaves, passed in the gynaikonitis, from which they issued only on rare occasions. The family life of Greek women widely differed from our Christian idea; neither did it resemble the life in an Oriental harem, to which it was far superior. The idea of the family was held up by both law and custom, and although concubinage and the intercourse with hetairai was suffered, nay favored, by the state, still such impure elements never intruded on domestic relations.

Our following remarks refer, of course, only to the better classes, the struggle for existence by the poor being nearly the same in all ages. In the seclusion of the gynaikonitis the maiden grew up in comparative ignorance. The care bestowed on domestic duties and on her dress was the only interest of her monotonous existence. Intellectual intercourse with the other sex was wanting entirely. Even where maidens appeared in public at religious ceremonies, they acted separately from the youths. An intercourse of this kind, at any rate, could not have a lasting influence on their culture. Even marriage did not change this state of things. The maiden only passed from the gynaikonitis of her father into that of her husband. In the latter, however, she was the absolute ruler. She did not share the intellectual life of her husband—one of the fundamental conditions of our family life. It is true that the husband watched over her honor with jealousy, assisted by the gynaikonomoi, sometimes even by means [204]of lock and key. It is also true that common custom protected a well-behaved woman against offence; still her position was only that of the mother of the family. Indeed, her duties and achievements were hardly considered by the husband, in a much higher light than those of a faithful domestic slave.

In prehistoric times the position of women seems to have been, upon the whole, a more dignified one. Still, even then, their duties were essentially limited to the house, as is proved, for instance, by the words in which Telemachus bids his mother mind her spindle and loom, instead of interfering with the debates of men. As the state became more developed, it took up the whole attention of the man, and still more separated him from his wife. Happy marriages, of course, were by no means impossible; still, as a rule, the opinion prevailed of the woman being by nature inferior to the man, and holding a position of a minor with regard to civic rights. This principle has, indeed, been repeatedly pronounced by ancient philosophers and lawgivers. Our remarks hitherto referred chiefly to the Ionic-Attic tribe, renowned for the modesty of its women and maidens. The Doric principle, expressed in the constitution of Sparta, gave, on the contrary, full liberty to maidens to show themselves in public, and to steel their strength by bodily exercise. This liberty, however, was not the result of a philosophic idea of the equality of the two sexes, but was founded on the desire of producing strong children by means of strengthening the body of the female.

The chief occupation of women, beyond the preparing of the meals, consisted in spinning and weaving. In Homer we see the wives of the nobles occupied in this way; and the custom of the women making the necessary articles of dress continued to prevail even when the luxury of later times, together with the degeneracy of the women themselves, had made the establishment of workshops and places of manufacture for this purpose [205]necessary. Antique art has frequently treated these domestic occupations. The Attic divinities, Athene Ergane and Aphrodite Urania, as well as the Argive Here, Ilithyia, the protecting goddess of child-bearing, Persephone, and Artemis, all these plastic art represents as goddesses of fate, weaving the thread of life, and, at the same time, protecting female endeavors; in which two-fold quality they have the emblem of domestic activity, the distaff, as their attribute. Only a few representations of spinning goddesses now remain; but many are the pictures of mortal spinning-maidens painted on walls, chiefly for female use. For the spinning, a spindle was used, as is still the case in places where the [206]northern spinning-wheel has not supplanted the antique custom. Homer describes noble ladies handling the distaff with the spindle belonging to it. Helen received a present of a golden spindle, with a silver basket to keep the thread in. The distaff, with a bundle of wool or flax fastened to its point, was held under the left arm, while the thumb and first finger of the right hand, slightly wetted, spun the thread at the end of which hung the spindle, made of metal. The web was, from the spindle, wound round a reel, to be further prepared on the loom.

Akin to spinning are the arts of weaving and embroidering. We frequently see in vase-paintings women with embroidering-frames in their laps. The skill of Greek ladies in embroidery is sufficiently proved by the tasteful embroidered patterns and borders on Greek dresses, both of men and women. The vase-paintings supply many examples.

Our remarks about female duties in preparing the meal must be short. The heavy parts of the duty, like grinding the corn in hand-mills, were performed by servants. In the palace of Odysseus twelve female slaves were employed all day in grinding wheat and barley in an equal number of hand-mills, to supply the numerous guests. The hand-mill consisted (like those still used in some Greek islands) of two stones, each about two feet in diameter, the upper one of which was made to rotate by means of a crooked handle, so as to crush the corn poured through an opening in it.

Baking and roasting meat on the spit were among the duties of female slaves. In every house of even moderate wealth, several of these were kept as cooks, chambermaids, and companions of the ladies on their walks, it being deemed improper for them to leave the house unaccompanied by several slaves. How far ladies took immediate part in the preparing of dainty dishes we can not say. In later times it became customary to buy or hire male slaves as cooks.

[207]Antique representations of women bathing, adorning themselves, playing, and dancing, are numerous. The Athenian maiden, unlike her Spartan sister, did not think it proper to publicly exhibit her bodily skill and beauty in a short chiton, but taking a bath seems to have been among her every-day habits as is shown by the numerous bathing scenes on vases. In one of them, a slave pours the contents of a hydria over her nude mistress. Cowering on the floor in another we see an undressed woman catching in her hand the water-spout issuing from a mask of Pan in the wall into a bath. An alabastron and comb are lying on the floor. A picture on an amphora in the museum of Berlin offers a most interesting view of the interior of a Greek bath-chamber. We see a bathing establishment built in the Doric style. By a row of columns the inner space is divided into two bath-chambers, each for two women. The water is most likely carried by pressure to the tops of the hollow columns, the communication among which is effected by means of pipes about six feet from the ground. The openings of the taps are formed into neatly modeled heads of boars, lions, and panthers, from the mouths of which a fine rain spray is thrown on the bathers. Their hair has been tightly arranged into plaits. The above-mentioned pipes were evidently used for hanging up the towels; perhaps they were even filled with hot water to warm the bathing linen. Whether our picture represents a public or private bath seems doubtful. The dressing after the bath has also been frequently depicted.

We need not enter upon the subject here. We will mention the chief utensils, as the comb, ointment-bottle, mirror, etc., on a following page. The scenes thus depicted are undoubtedly borrowed from daily life, although Aphrodite, with her attendance of Cupids and Graces, has taken the place of mortal women.

For music, games, and dances, we mention only a game at ball, which was played in a dancing measure, and, therefore, [208]considered as a practice of graceful movements. Homer mentions Nausikaa as a skilled player of this game. It is remarkable that wherever women playing at ball appear in pictures they are represented in a sitting posture. (See cut, page 205.)

The swing was essentially a female amusement. In commemoration of the fate of Erigone, daughter of Ikarios, a festival had been ordained at Athens at which the maidens indulged in the joys of the swing. Illustrations of this pastime occur frequently on vases, free from any mythological symbolism, even in cases where Eros is made to move the swing.

We now come to the point in the maiden's life when she is to preside over her own household as the legitimate mate of her husband. In most cases Greek marriage was a matter of convenience, a man considering it his duty to provide for the legitimate continuation of his family. The Doric tribe did not attempt to disguise this principle in its plain-spoken laws; the rest of Greece acknowledged it but in silence, owing to a more refined conception of the moral significance of marriage.

The seclusion of female life, indeed, made the question of personal charms appear of secondary importance. Equity of birth and wealth were the chief considerations. The choice of the Athenian citizen was limited to Athenian maidens; only in that case were the children entitled to full birthright, the issue of a marriage of an Athenian man or maiden with a stranger being considered illegitimate by the law. Such a marriage was, indeed, nothing but a form of concubinage. The laws referring to this point were, however, frequently evaded. At the solemn betrothal, always preceding the actual marriage, the dowry of the bride was settled; her position as a married woman greatly depended upon its value. Frequently the daughter of poor, deserving citizens were presented with a dowry by the state or by a number of citizens.

In Homer's time the bridegroom wooed the bride with rich [209]gifts; Iphidamas, for instance, offers a hundred heifers and a thousand goats as a nuptial present. But afterwards this was entirely reversed, the father of the bride having to provide the dowry, consisting partly in cash, partly in clothes, jewelry, and slaves. In cases of separation the dowry had, in most cases, to be returned to the wife's parents. The most appropriate age for contracting a marriage, Plato in his Republic fixes, for girls, at twenty, for men, at thirty. There was, however, no rule to this effect. Parents were naturally anxious to dispose of their daughters as early as possible, without taking objection to the advanced years of the wooer, as is tersely pointed out by Aristophanes.

The actual marriage ceremony, or leading home, was preceded by offerings to Zeus Teleios, Hera Teleia, Artemis Eukleia and other deities protecting marriage. The bridal bath was the second ceremony, which both bride and bridegroom had to go through previous to their union.

On the wedding day, towards dark, after the meal at her parental home was over,[21] the bride left the festively adorned house, and was conducted by the bridegroom in a chariot to his dwelling. She sat between the bridegroom and the best man chosen from among his relatives or intimate friends. Accompanied by the sounds of the hymenæos, and the festive sounds of flutes and friendly acclamations from all passers-by, the procession moved slowly towards the bridegroom's house, also adorned with wreaths of foliage. The mother of the bride walked behind the chariot, with the wedding torches, kindled at the parental hearth, according to custom immemorial. At the door of the bridegroom his mother was awaiting the young couple with burning torches in her hand. In case no wedding meal had been served at the bride's house, the company now sat down to it. To prognosticate the desired fertility of the union, cakes of sesame were distributed. The same symbolic meaning attached to the quince, which, [210]according to Solon's law, the bride had to eat. After the meal the couple retired to the thalamos, where for the first time the bride unveiled herself to her husband. Before the door of the bridal chamber epithalamia were sung, a charming specimen of which we possess in the bridal hymn of Helena by Theokritos. On the two first days after the wedding, wedding-presents were received by the pair. Not till after these days did the bride appear without her veil.

Very different from the social position of chaste women was that of the hetairai. We are not speaking of the lowest class of unfortunates, worshiping Aphrodite Pandemos, but of those women who, owing to their beauty and grace of conversation, exerted great influence even over superior men. We only remind the reader of Aspasia. In the graces of society the hetairai were naturally superior to respectable women, owing to their free intercourse with men. For the hetairai did not shun the light of day, and were not restrained by the law. Only the house of the married man was closed to them.

Before passing from private to public life, we must cast a glance at the early education of the child by the mother. We begin with the earliest days of infancy. After the first bath the new-born child was put into swaddling-clothes, a custom not permitted by the rougher habits of Sparta. On the fifth or seventh day the infant had to go through the ceremony of purification; the midwife, holding him in her arms, walked several times round the burning altar. A festive meal on this day was given to the family, the doors being decorated with an olive crown for a boy, with wool for a girl. On the tenth day after its birth, when the child was named, another feast took place. This ceremony implied the acknowledgment, on the part of the father, of the child's legitimacy. The name of the child was chosen by both parents, generally after the name of either of the grandparents, sometimes, also, after the name or attributes of a deity, [211]under whose particular protection the child was thus placed. A sacrifice, offered chiefly to the goddess of child-bearing, Here Ilithyia, and a meal, concluded the ceremony. At the latter, friends and relatives presented the infant with toys of metal or clay, while the mother received painted vases. The antique cradle consisted of a flat swing of basket work, such as appears in a terra-cotta relief in the British Museum, of the infant Bacchus being carried by a satyr brandishing a thyrsus, and a torch-bearing bacchante. Another kind of cradle, in the form of a shoe, is shown containing the infant Hermes, recognizable by his petasos. It also is made of basket-work. The advantage of this cradle consists in its having handles, and, therefore, being easily portable. It also might be suspended on ropes, and rocked without difficulty. Other cradles, similar to our modern ones, belong to a later period. The singing of lullabies, and the rocking of children to sleep, were common amongst the ancients. Wet-nurses were commonly employed amongst Ionian tribes; wealthy Athenians chose Spartan nurses in preference, as being generally strong and healthy. After the child had been weaned it was fed by the dry nurse and the mother with pap, made chiefly of honey.

The rattle, said to be invented by Archytas, was the first toy of the infant. Other toys of various kinds were partly bought, partly made by the children themselves on growing older. We mention painted clay puppets, representing human beings or animals, such as tortoises, hares, ducks, and mother apes with their offspring. Small stones were put inside, so as to produce a rattling noise; which circumstance, together with the fact of small figures of this kind being frequently found on children's graves, proves their being toys. Small wooden carts, houses and ships made of leather, and many other toys, made by the children themselves, might be instanced. Up to their sixth year boys and girls were brought up together under their mother's care; from [212]that point their education became separate. The education proper of the boy became a more public one, while the girl was brought up by the mother at home, in a most simple way, according to their notions. From amongst the domestic slaves a trustworthy companion was chosen for the boy. He was, however, not a tutor in our sense, but rather a faithful servant, who had to take care of the boy in his walks, particularly on his way to and from school. He also had to instruct his pupil in certain rules of good behavior. The boy had, for instance, to walk in the street with his head bent, as a sign of modesty, and to make room for his elders meeting him. In the presence of the latter he had to preserve a respectful silence. Proper behavior at table, a graceful way of wearing his garments, etc., might be mentioned as kindred subjects of education. Boys were accompanied by pedagogues up to their sixteenth year. The latter appear frequently in vase-paintings, and are easily recognizable by their dress, consisting of chiton and cloak, with high-laced boots; they also carry sticks with crooked handles, and their hair and beards give them a venerable aspect; while their pupils, according to Athenian custom, are clad more lightly and gracefully. The pedagogue of the group of the Niobides is well known.

Education was, at Athens, a matter of private enterprise. Schools were kept by private teachers, the government supervision extending only to the moral not to the scientific qualification of the schoolmaster. Grammar, music and gymnastics, to which Aristotle adds drawing, as a means of æsthetic cultivation, were the common subjects of education at schools and gymnasia; also reading, writing and arithmetic. The method of teaching how to write consisted in the master's forming the letters, which the pupils had to imitate on their tablets, sometimes with the master's assistance. The writing materials were small tablets covered with wax, into which the letters were scratched by means of a pencil made of metal or ivory. It was pointed at [213]one end, and flattened or bent at the other, so as to extinguish the writing, if required, and, at the same time, to smooth the surface again for other letters. A young girl, in a charming Pompeian wall-painting, has in her hand a double tablet, while with her other hand she holds a pencil to her chin, as if pondering over a letter. Her nurse looking over her shoulder tries to decipher the contents of the love-letter. Besides these tablets, Herodotus mentions the use of paper made of the bark of the Egyptian papyrus-plant. The stalk (three or four feet in length) was cut longitudinally, after which the outer bark was first taken off; the remaining layers of bark, about twenty in number, were carefully severed with a pin; and, afterwards, the single stripes plaited crosswise; by means of pressing and perforating the whole with lime-water, the necessary consistency of the material was obtained. The lower layers of bark yielded the best writing-paper, while the outer layers were made into packing-paper (emporetica); the uppermost bark was used for making ropes. A case of this kind full of parchment rolls, with a cover to it, stands by the side of Klio in a wall-painting of Herculaneum. In her left hand the muse holds a half-opened roll on which are inscribed the words "Klio teaches history." The ink was made of a black coloring substance; it was kept in an inkstand made of metal, with a cover to it. Double inkstands, frequently seen on monuments, were most likely destined for the keeping of black and red inks, the latter of which was frequently used. To write on paper or parchment, the ancients used the Memphic, Gnidic, or Anaitic reeds, pointed and split like our pens. As we mentioned before, it was the custom of adults to write either reclining on the kline, with the leaf resting on the bent leg, or sitting in a low arm-chair, in which case the writing apparatus was supported by the knee of the writer. The latter posture is exemplified by a reading ephebos in a vase-painting; it was, undoubtedly, also that of the boys sitting on the rising steps used [214]as forms at the schools. After his elementary education was completed, the boy was made acquainted with the works of national poetry, particularly with the poems of Homer, the learning by heart and reciting of which inspired him with patriotic pride.

Of the marriage contracts of the Egyptians we are entirely ignorant, nor do we even find the ceremony represented in the paintings of their tombs. We may, however, conclude that they were regulated by the customs usual among civilized nations; and, if the authority of Diodorus can be credited, women were indulged with greater privileges in Egypt than in any other country. He even affirms that part of the agreement entered into at the time of marriage was, that the wife should have control over her husband, and that no objection should be made to her commands, whatever they might be; but, though we have sufficient to convince us of the superior treatment of women among the Egyptians, as well from ancient authors as from the sculptures that remain, it may fairly be doubted if those indulgences were carried to the extent mentioned by the historian, or that command extended beyond the management of the house, and the regulation of domestic affairs.

It is, however, remarkable that the royal authority and supreme direction of affairs were entrusted without reserve to women, as in those states of modern Europe where the Salic law has not been introduced; and we not only find examples in Egyptian history of queens succeeding to the throne, but Manetho informs us that the law, according this important privilege to the other sex, dated as early as the reign of Binothris, the third monarch of the second dynasty.

In primitive ages the duties of women were very different from those of later and more civilized periods, and varied of course according to the habits of each people. Among pastoral tribes they drew water, kept the sheep, and superintended the [215]herds as well as flocks. As with the Arabs of the present day, they prepared both the furniture and the woolen stuffs of which the tents themselves were made, ground the corn, and performed other menial offices. They were also engaged, as in ancient Greece, in weaving, spinning, needlework, embroidery, and other sedentary occupations within doors.

The Egyptian ladies in like manner employed much of their time with the needle; and the sculptures represent many females weaving and using the spindle. But they were not kept in the same secluded manner as those of ancient Greece, who, besides being confined to certain apartments in the house, most remote from the hall of entrance, and generally in the uppermost part of the building, were not even allowed to go out of doors without a veil, as in many Oriental countries at the present day.

The Egyptians treated their women very differently, as the accounts of ancient authors and the sculptures sufficiently prove. At some of the public festivals women were expected to attend—not alone, like the Moslem women at a mosque, but in company with their husbands or relations; and Josephus states that on an occasion of this kind, "when it was the custom for women to go to the public solemnity, the wife of Potiphar, having pleaded ill health in order to be allowed to stay at home, was excused from attending," and availed herself of the absence of her husband to talk with Joseph.

That it was the custom of the Egyptians to have only one wife, is shown by Herodotus and the monuments, which present so many scenes illustrative of their domestic life; and Diodorus is wrong in supposing that the laity were allowed to marry any number, while the priests were limited to one.

But a very objectionable custom, which is not only noticed by Diodorus, but is fully authenticated by the sculptures both of Upper and Lower Egypt, existed among them from the earliest times, the origin and policy of which it is not easy to [216]explain—the marriage of brother and sister—which Diodorus supposes to have been owing to, and sanctioned by, that of Isis and Osiris; but as this was purely an allegorical fable, and these ideal personages never lived on earth, his conjecture is of little weight; nor does any ancient writer offer a satisfactory explanation of so strange a custom.

Though the Egyptians confined themselves to one wife, they, like the Jews and other Eastern nations, both of ancient and modern times, scrupled not to admit other inmates to their hareem, most of whom appear to have been foreigners, either taken in war, or brought to Egypt to be sold as slaves. They became members of the family, like those in Moslem countries at the present day, and not only ranked next to the wives and children of their lord, but probably enjoyed a share of the property at his death.

These women were white or black slaves, according to the countries from which they were brought; but, generally speaking, the latter were employed merely as domestics, who were required to wait upon their mistress and her female friends. The former, likewise, officiated as servants, though they of course held a rank above the black slaves.

The same custom prevailed among the Egyptians regarding children, as with the Moslems and other Eastern people; no distinction being made between their offspring by a wife or any other woman, and all equally enjoying the rights of inheritance; for, since they considered a child indebted to the father for its existence, it seemed unjust to deny equal rights to all his progeny.

In speaking of the duties of children in Egypt, Herodotus declares, that if a son was unwilling to maintain his parents he was at liberty to refuse, but that a daughter, on the contrary, was compelled to assist them, and, on refusal, was amenable to law. But we may question the truth of this statement; and, [217]drawing an inference from the marked severity of filial duties among the Egyptians, some of which we find distinctly alluded to in the sculptures of Thebes, we may conclude that in Egypt much more was expected from a son than in any civilized nation of the present day; and this was not confined to the lower orders, but extended to those of the highest ranks of society. And if the office of fan-bearer was an honorable post, and the sons of the monarch were preferred to fulfill it, no ordinary show of humility was required on their part; and they walked on foot behind his chariot, bearing certain insignia over their father during the triumphal processions which took place in commemoration of his victories, and in the religious ceremonies over which he presided.

It was equally a custom in the early times of European history, that a son should pay a marked deference to his parent; and no prince was allowed to sit at table with his father, unless through his valor, having been invested with arms by a foreign sovereign, he had obtained that privilege; as was the case with Alboin, before he succeeded his father on the throne of the Lombards. The European nations were not long in altering their early habits, and this custom soon became disregarded; but a respect for ancient institutions, and those ideas, so prevalent in the East, which reject all love of change, prevented the Egyptians from discarding the usages of their ancestors; and we find this and many other primitive customs retained, even at the period when they were most highly civilized.

In the education of youth they were particularly strict; and "they knew," says Plato, "that children ought to be early accustomed to such gestures, looks, and motions as are decent and proper, and not to be suffered either to hear or learn any verses and songs, than those which are calculated to inspire them with virtue; and they consequently took care that every dance and ode introduced at their feasts or sacrifices should be subject to certain regulations."

[218]They particularly inculcated respect for old age; and the fact of this being required even towards strangers, argues a great regard for the person of a parent; for we are informed that, like the Israelites and the Lacedæmonians, they required every young man to give place to his superiors in years, and even, if seated, to rise on their approach.

Nor were these honors limited to their lifetime; the memory of parents and ancestors was revered through succeeding generations; their tombs were maintained with the greatest respect; liturgies were performed by their children, or by priests at their expense; and we have previously seen what advantage was taken of this feeling, in the laws concerning debt.

"For of all people" says Diodorus, "the Egyptians retain the highest sense of a favor conferred upon them, deeming it the greatest charm of life to make a suitable return for benefits they have received;" and from the high estimation in which the feeling of gratitude was held among them, even strangers felt a reverence for the character of the Egyptians.

Through this impulse, they were induced to solemnize the funeral obsequies of their kings with the enthusiasm described by the historian; and to this he partly attributes the unexampled duration of the Egyptian monarchy.

It is only doing justice to the modern Egyptians to say that gratitude is still a distinguishing trait of their character; and this is one of the many qualities inherited by them, for which their predecessors were remarkable; confirming what we have before stated, that the general peculiarities of a people are retained, though a country may be conquered, and nominally peopled by a foreign race.

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[219]

Dress, Toilet and Jewelry.

We now come to the dress of the Ancients. We shall have to consider those articles of dress used as a protection against the weather, and those prescribed by decency or fashion, also the coverings of the head and the feet, the arrangement of the hair and the ornaments. Unfortunately, the terminology is, in many cases, uncertain. Many points, therefore, must remain undecided. Before entering upon details, we must remark that the dress of the Greeks, compared with modern fashion, was extremely simple and natural. Owing to the warmth of the climate and the taste of the inhabitants, both superfluous and tight articles of dress were dispensed with. Moreover, the body was allowed to develop its natural beauty in vigorous exercise; and in this harmony and beauty of the limbs the Greeks prided themselves, which, of course, reacted favorably on the character of the dress.

Identical with this in form is the chiton worn by Doric women. It was simple, short-skirted, and with a slit in the upper part at both sides. It was fastened with clasps over both shoulders, and shortened as far as the knees by means of pulling it through the girdle. In this form it is worn by two maidens in the Louvre, destined for the service of the Lakonian Artemis at Karyæ. They carry kinds of baskets on their heads, and are performing the festive dance in honor of the goddess. The exomis is worn by the female statue in the Vatican known as the "Springing Amazon," and also by statues of Artemis, and [220]representations of that goddess on gems and coins. The long chiton for women reaching down to the feet, and only a little pulled up at the girdle, we see in a vase painting, representing dancing youths and maidens, the former wearing the short, the latter the long, chiton. A development of the long chiton is the double-chiton. It was a very large, oblong piece of woven cloth, left open on one side, like the Doric chiton for men. It was equal to about one and a half lengths of the body. The overhanging part of the cloth was folded round the chest and back, from the neck downwards, the upper edge being arranged round the neck, and the two open corners clasped together on one shoulder. On this open side, therefore, the naked body was visible. Over the other shoulder the upper edge of the chiton was also fastened with a clasp—these clasps, as seen in annexed cuts, were elaborate ornaments, some being richly bejeweled, others being made of wrought gold—the arm being put through the opening left between this clasp and the corresponding corner of the cloth.

In the same way was arranged the half-open chiton, the open side of which, from the girdle to the lower hem, was sewed up. A bronze statuette illustrates this way of putting it on. A young girl is about to join together on her left shoulder the chiton, which is fastened over the right shoulder by means of an agraffe. It appears clearly that the whole chiton consists of one piece. Together with the open and half-open kinds of the chiton, we also find the closed double-chiton flowing down to the feet. It was a piece of cloth considerably longer than the human body, and closed on both sides, inside of which the [221]person putting it on stood as in a cylinder. As in the chiton of the second form, the overhanging part of the cloth was turned outward, and the folded rim pulled up as far as the shoulders, across which (first on the right, and after it on the left side) the front and back parts were fastened together by means of clasps, the arms being put through the two openings affected in this manner. Round the hips the chiton was fastened by means of a girdle, through which the bottom part of the dress trailing along the ground was pulled up just far enough to let the toes be visible. Above the girdle the chiton was arranged in shorter or longer picturesque folds. The chief alterations of varying fashion applied to the arrangement of the diploidion which reached either to the part under the bosom or was prolonged as far as the hips; its front and back parts might either be clasped together across the shoulders, or the two rims might be pulled across the upper arm as far as the elbow, and fastened in several places by means of buttons or agraffes, so that the naked arm became visible in the intervals, by means of which the sleeveless chiton received the appearance of one with sleeves. Where the diploidion was detached from the chiton, it formed a kind of handsome cape, which, however, in its shape, strictly resembled the Diploidion proper. Its shape was considerably modified by fashion, taking sometimes the form of a close-fitting jacket, at others (when the sides remained open) that of a kind of shawl, the ends of which sometimes equaled in length the chiton itself. [222]In the latter case, the ampechonion was naturally at least three times as long as it was wide. In antique pictures women sometimes wear a second shorter chiton over the other. A great many varieties of dress, more distinguishable in the vase-paintings, representing realistic scenes, than in the ideal costumes of sculptural types, we must omit, particularly as, in most cases, they may be reduced to the described general principles.

From the chiton we now pass to the articles of dress of the nature of cloaks. They also show throughout an oblong form, differing in this essentially from the Roman toga. It, belonging to this class, was arranged so that the one corner was thrown over the left shoulder in front, so as to be attached to the body by means of the left arm. On the back the dress was pulled toward the right side so as to cover it completely up to the right shoulder, or, at least, to the armpit, in which latter case the right shoulder remained uncovered. Finally, the himation was again thrown over the left shoulder, so that the ends fell over the back.

Concerning the materials of the described garments, we have mentioned before that linen was used principally by the Ionians, wool by the Dorians; the latter material in the course of time became the rule for male garments all over Greece. The change of seasons naturally required a corresponding modification in the thickness of these woolen garments; accordingly we notice the difference between summer and winter dresses. For women's dresses, besides sheep's wool and linen, byssos, most likely a kind of cotton, was commonly used. Something like the byssos, but much finer, was the material of which the celebrated transparent dresses were woven in the Isle of Amorgos; they consisted of the fibre of a fine sort of flax, undoubtedly resembling our muslins and cambrics. The introduction of silk into Greece is of later date, while in Asia it was known at a very early period. From the interior of Asia the silk was imported into Greece, [223]partly in its raw state, partly worked into dresses. Ready made dresses of this kind differed greatly from the dresses made in Greece of the imported raw silk. The Isle of Kos was the first seat of silk manufacture, where silk dresses were produced rivaling in transparency the above-mentioned. These diaphanous dresses, clinging close to the body, and allowing the color of the skin and the veins to be seen, have been frequently imitated with astonishing skill by Greek sculptors and painters. We only remind the reader of the beautifully modeled folds of the chiton covering the upper part of the body of Niobe's youngest daughter, in a kneeling position, who seeks shelter in the lap of her mother; in painting, several wall-pictures of Pompeii may be cited.

The antiquated notion of white having been the universal color of Greek garments, a colored dress being considered immodest, has been refuted by Becker. It is, however, likely that, with the cloak-like epiblememata, white was the usual color, as is still the case amongst Oriental nations much exposed to the sun. Brown cloaks are, however, by no means unusual; neither were they amongst Greek men. Party-colored Oriental garments were also used, at least by the wealthy Greek classes, both for male and female dresses, while white still remained the favorite color with modest Greek women. This is proved, not to mention written evidence, by a number of small painted statuettes of burnt clay, as also by several pictures on lekythoi from Attic graves. The original colors of the dresses, although (particularly the reds) slightly altered from the burning process, may still be distinctly recognized.

The dresses were frequently adorned with interwoven patterns, or attached borders and embroideries. From Babylon and Phrygia, the ancient seats of the weaving and embroidering arts, these crafts spread over the occidental world, the name "Phrygiones," used in Rome at a later period for artists of this kind, reminding [224]one of this origin. As we learn from the monuments, the simplest border either woven or sewed to the dresses, consisted of one or more dark stripes, either parallel with the seams of the chiton, himation, and ampechonion, or running down to the hem of the chiton from the girdle at the sides or from the throat in front. The vertical ornaments correspond to the Roman clavus. Besides these ornaments in stripes, we also meet with others broader and more complicated; whether woven into, or sewed on, the dress seems doubtful. They cover the chiton from the hem upwards to the knee, and above the girdle up to the neck, as is seen in the chiton worn by the spring goddess Opora, in a vase-painting. The whole chiton is sometimes covered with star or dice patterns, particularly on vases of the archaic style. The vase-painters of the decaying period chiefly represent Phrygian dresses with gold fringes and sumptuous embroideries of palmetto and "meandering" patterns, such as were worn by the luxurious South-Italian Greeks. Such a sumptuous dress is worn by Medea in a picture of the death of Talos on an Apulian amphora in the Jatta collection at Ruvo. In the same picture the chitones of Kastor and Polydeukes, and those of the Argonautai, are covered with palmetto embroideries, the edges at the bottom showing mythological scenes on the dark ground.

In the cities Greeks walked mostly bareheaded, owing most likely to the more plentiful hair of southern nations, which, moreover, was cultivated by the Greeks with particular care. Travelers, hunters, and such artificers as were particularly exposed to the sun, used light coverings for their heads. The different forms [225]of these may be classified. They were made of the skins of dogs, weasels, or cows.

The hair is considered in Homer as one of the greatest signs of male beauty among the long-haired Achaioi; no less were the well-arranged locks of maidens and women praised by the tragic poets. Among the Spartans it became a sacred custom, derived from the laws of Lykurgos, to let the hair of the boy grow as soon as he reached the age of the ephebos, while up to that time it was cut short. This custom prevailed among the Spartans up to their being overpowered by the Achaic federation. Altogether the Dorian character did not admit of much attention being paid to the arrangement of the hair. Only on solemn occasions, for instance on the eve of the battle of Thermopylæ, the Spartans arranged their hair with particular care.

At Athens, about the time of the Persian wars, men used to wear their hair long, tied on to the top of the head in a knot, which was fastened by a hair-pin in the form of a cicada. Of this custom, however, the monuments offer no example. Only in the pictures of two Pankratiastai, on a monument dating most likely from Roman times, we discover an analogy to this old Attic custom. After the Persian war, when the dress and manners of the Ionians had undergone a change, it became the custom to cut off the long hair of the boys on their attaining the age of epheboi, and devote it as an offering to a god, for instance, to the Delphic Apollo or some local river-god. Attic citizens, however, by no means wore their hair cropped short, like their slaves, but used to let it grow according to their own taste or the common fashion. Only dandies, as, for instance, Alkibiades, let their hair fall down to their shoulders in long locks. Philosophers also occasionally attempted to revive old customs by wearing their hair long.

The beard was carefully attended to by the Greeks. The barber's shop, with its talkative inmate, was not only frequented by those requiring the services of the barber in cutting the hair, [226]shaving, cutting the nails and corns, and tearing out small hairs, but it was also, as Plutarch says, a symposion without wine, where political and local news were discussed. Alkiphron depicts a Greek barber in the following words: "You see how the d——d barber in yon street has treated me; the talker, who puts up the Brundisian looking-glass, and makes his knives to clash harmoniously. I went to him to be shaved; he received me politely, put me in a high chair, enveloped me in a clean towel, and stroked the razor gently down my cheek, so as to remove the thick hair. But this was a malicious trick of his. He did it partly, not all over the chin; some places he left rough, others he made smooth without my noticing it." After the time of Alexander the Great, a barber's business became lucrative, owing to the custom of wearing a full beard being abandoned, notwithstanding the remonstrances of several states.[22] In works of art, particularly in portrait statues, the beard is always treated as an individual characteristic. It is mostly arranged in graceful locks, and covers the chin, lips and cheeks, without a separation being made between whiskers and moustache. Only in archaic renderings the wedge-like beard is combed in long wavy lines, and the whiskers are strictly parted from the moustache. As an example we quote the nobly formed head of Zeus crowned with the stephane in the Talleyrand collection. The usual color of the hair being dark, fair hair was considered a great beauty. Homer gives yellow locks to Menelaos, Achilles, and Meleagros; and Euripides describes Menelaos and Dionysos as fair-haired.

The head-dress of women was in simple taste. Hats were not worn, as a rule, because, at least in Athens, the appearance of women in the public street was considered improper, and [227]therefore happened only on exceptional occasions. On journeys women wore a light broad-brimmed petasos as a protection from the sun. With a Thessalian hat of this kind Ismene appears in "Œdipus in Kolonos." The head-dress of Athenian ladies at home and in the street consisted, beyond the customary veil, chiefly of different contrivances for holding together their plentiful hair. We mentioned before, that the himation was sometimes pulled over the back of the head like a veil. But at a very early period Greek women wore much shorter or longer veils, which covered the face up to the eyes, and fell over the neck and back in large folds, so as to cover, if necessary, the whole upper part of the body. The care bestowed on the hair was naturally still greater amongst women than amongst men. Cut shows a number of heads of Athenian women, taken from an old painting of Pompeii. These, and the numerous heads represented in sculptures and gems, give an idea of the exquisite taste of these head-dresses. At the same time, it must be confessed that most modern fashions, even the ugly ones, have their models, if not in Greek, at least in Roman antiquity. The [228]combing of the hair over the back in wavy lines was undoubtedly much in favor. A simple ribbon tied round the head, in that case, connected the front with the back hair. This arrangement we meet with in the maidens of the Parthenon frieze and in a bust of Niobe. On older monuments, for instance, in the group of the Graces on the triangular altar in the Louvre, the front hair is arranged in small ringlets, while the back hair partly falls smoothly over the neck, and partly is made into long curls hanging down to the shoulders. It was also not unusual to comb back the front hair over the temples and ears, and tie it, together with the back hair, into a graceful knot. Here, also, the above-mentioned ribbon was used. It consisted of a stripe of cloth or leather, frequently adorned, where it rested on the forehead, with a plaque of metal formed like a frontal. This stephane appears on monuments mostly in the hair of goddesses; the ribbon belonging to it, in that case, takes the form of a broad metal circle destined no more to hold together, but to decorate the hair. This is the case in a bust of Here in the Villa Ludovisi, in the statue of the same goddess in the Vatican, and in a statue of Aphrodite found at Capua. Besides this another ornamented tie of cloth or leather was used by the Greeks, broad in the centre and growing narrower towards both ends. Its shape had great similarity to the sling. It was either put with its broader side on the front of the head, the ends, with ribbons tied to them, being covered by the thick black hair, or vice versa; in which latter case the ends were tied on the forehead in an elaborate knot. The net, and after it the kerchief, were developed from the simple ribbon, in the same manner as straps on the feet gradually became boots.

The kekryphalos proper consists of a net-like combination of ribbon and gold thread, thrown over the back hair to prevent it from dropping. The large tetradrachmai of Syrakuse, bearing the signature of the engraver, Kimon, show a beautiful head of [229]Arethusa adorned with the kekryphalos. More frequent is the coif-like kekryphalos covering the whole hair, or only the back hair, and tied into a knot at the top.

The modifications of the sakkos, and the way of its being tied, are chiefly illustrated by vase-paintings. At the present day the Greek women of Thessaly and the Isle of Chios wear a head-dress exactly resembling the antique sakkos. The acquaintance of the Greeks with the curling-iron and cosmetic mysteries, such as oil and pomatum, can be proved both by written evidence and pictures. It quite tallied with the æsthetical notions of the Greeks to shorten the forehead by dropping the hair over it, many examples of which, in pictures of both men and women, are preserved to us.

We conclude our remarks about dress with the description of some ornaments, the specimens of which in Greek graves and in sculptural imitations are numerous. In Homer the wooers try to gain the favor of Penelope with golden breastpins, agraffes, ear-rings, and chains. Hephaistos is, in the same work, mentioned as the artificer of beautiful rings and hair-pins. The same ornaments we meet with again at a later period as important articles of female dress.

Many preserved specimens show the great skill of Greek goldsmiths' breastpins. Hair-pins, in our sense, and combs for parting and holding up the hair were unknown to the Greeks. The double or simple comb of Greek ladies, made of box-wood, ivory, or metal, was used only for combing the hair. The back hair was prevented from dropping by means of long hair-pins, the heads of which frequently consisted of a graceful piece of sculpture. Well known are the hair-pins adorned with a golden cicada which, in Solon's time, were used by both Athenian men and women for the fastening of the krobylos.

It was the custom of the Greeks to adorn their heads on festive occasions with wreaths and garlands. Thus adorned the [230]bridegroom led home the bride. Flowers full of symbolic meaning were offered on the altars of the gods, and the topers at carousals were crowned with wreaths of myrtle, roses, and violets, the latter being the favorite flower with the Athenians. The flower-market of Athens was always supplied with garlands to twine round the head and the upper part of the body; for the latter also was adorned with garlands. Crowns consisting of other flowers, and leaves of the ivy and silver-poplar, are frequently mentioned. Wreaths also found a place in the serious business of life. They were awarded to the victors in the games; the archon wore a myrtle-wreath as the sign of his dignity, as did also the orator while speaking to the people from the tribune.

The crowning with flowers was a high honor to Athenian citizens—awarded, for instance, to Perikles, but refused to Miltiades. The head and bier of the dead were also crowned with fresh wreaths of myrtle and ivy.

The luxury of later times changed the wreaths of flowers for golden ones, with regard to the dead of the richer classes. Wreaths made of thin gold have repeatedly been found in graves. The barrows of the old Pantikapaion have yielded several beautiful wreaths of ivy and ears of corn; a gold imitation of a crown of myrtle has been found in a grave in Ithaka. Other specimens from Greek and Roman graves are preserved in our museums. A golden crown of Greek workmanship, found at Armento, a village of the Basilicata (at present in Munich), is particularly remarkable. A twig of oak forms the ground, from among the thin golden leaves of which spring forth asters with chalices of blue enamel, convolvulus, narcissus, ivy, roses, and myrtle, gracefully intertwined. On the upper bend of the crown is the image of a winged goddess, from the head of which, among pieces of grass, rises the slender stalk of a rose. Four naked male genii and two draped female ones, floating over the flowers, point towards the goddess, who stands on a pedestal bearing an inscription.

[231]Greek, particularly Athenian, women carried a sunshade, or employed slaves to hold it over them. In the Panathenaic procession even the daughters of metoikoi had to perform this service. Such sunshades, which, like our own, could be shut by means of wires, we often see depicted on vases and Etruscan mirrors. This form was undoubtedly the most common one. The cap-like sunshade painted on a skyphos, which a Silenus, instead of a servant, holds over a dignified lady walking in front of him, is undoubtedly intended as a parody, perhaps copied from the scene of a comedy. In vase paintings we also see frequently the leaf-like painted fan in the hands of women.

The above articles were in good preservation when found. a, l, n, are hand-mirrors; m, is a wall-mirror; c, toilet-box, made of ivory and beautifully carved; d and k, bronze combs; i, fine comb; b, ear and tooth-pick; f, pin-box, with glass and steel pins; h, salve-box; g, hair-pins made of ivory and gold; e, is a powder or paint-box.

Of the secrets of Greek toilette we will only disclose the fact that ladies knew the use of paint. The white they used consisted of white-lead; their reds were made either of red minium or of a root. This unwholesome fashion of painting was even extended to the eyebrows, for which black color was used, made either of pulverized antimony or of fine soot.

[232]The mirrors of the Greeks consisted of circular pieces of polished bronze, either without a handle or with one richly adorned. Frequently a cover, for the reflecting surface, was added. The Etruscan custom of engraving figures on the back of the mirror or the cover seems to have been rare among the Greeks, to judge, at least, from the numerous specimens of mirrors found in Greek graves. Characteristic of these are, on the other hand, the tasteful handles, representing mostly Aphrodite, as in a manner the ideal of a beautifully adorned woman. These hand-mirrors frequently occur in vase paintings, particularly in those containing bathing utensils.

The carrying of a stick seems to have been a common custom. It is mostly of great length, with a crutched handle; young Athenian dandies may have used shorter walking-sticks. The first-mentioned sticks seem to have been used principally for leaning upon in standing still, as is indicated by frequent representations in pictures.

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[233]

Crimes and Punishments; Contracts, Deeds, Etc.

Truth or justice was thought to be the main cardinal virtue among the Egyptians, inasmuch as it relates more particularly to others; prudence, temperance, and fortitude being relative qualities, and tending chiefly to the immediate benefit of the individual who possesses them. It was, therefore, with great earnestness that they inculcated the necessity of fully appreciating it; and falsehood was not only considered disgraceful, but when it entailed an injury on any other person was punishable by law.

A calumniator of the dead was condemned to a severe punishment; and a false accuser was doomed to the same sentence which would have been awarded to the accused, if the offense had been proved against him; but to maintain a falsehood by an oath was deemed the blackest crime, and one which, from its complicated nature, could be punished by nothing short of death. For they considered that it involved two distinct crimes—a contempt for the gods, and a violation of faith towards man; the former the direct promoter of every sin, the latter destructive of all those ties which are most essential for the welfare of society.

The willful murder of a freeman, or even of a slave, was punished with death, from the conviction that men ought to be restrained from the commission of sin, not on account of any distinction of station in life, but from the light in which they viewed the crime itself; while at the same time it had the effect of showing that if the murder of a slave was deemed an offense [234]deserving of so severe a punishment, they ought still more to shrink from the murder of one who was a compatriot and a free-born citizen.

In this law we observe a scrupulous regard to justice and humanity, and have an unquestionable proof of the great advancement made by the Egyptians in the most essential points of civilization. Indeed, the Egyptians considered it so heinous a crime to deprive a man of life, that to be the accidental witness of an attempt to murder, without endeavoring to prevent it, was a capital offense, which could only be palliated by bringing proofs of inability to act.

With the same spirit they decided that to be present when any one inflicted a personal injury on another, without interfering, was tantamount to being a party, and was punishable according to the extent of the assault; and every one who witnessed a robbery was bound either to arrest, or, if that was out of his power, to lay an information, and to prosecute the offenders; and any neglect on this score being proved against him, the delinquent was condemned to receive a stated number of stripes, and to be kept without food for three whole days.

Although, in the case of murder, the Egyptian law was inexorable and severe, the royal prerogative might be exerted in favor of a culprit, and the punishment was sometimes commuted by a mandate from the king.

Sabaco, indeed, during the fifty years of his reign, "made it a rule not to punish his subjects with death," whether guilty of murder or any other capital offence, but, "according to the magnitude of their crimes, he condemned the culprits to raise the ground about the town to which they belonged. By these means the situation of the different cities became greatly elevated above the reach of the inundation, even more than in the time of Sesostris;" and either on account of a greater proportion of criminals, or from some other cause, the mounds of Bubastis were raised considerably higher than those of any other city.

[235]The same laws that forbade a master to punish a slave with death took from a father every right over the life of his offspring; and the Egyptians deemed the murder of a child an odious crime, that called for the direct interposition of justice. They did not, however, punish it as a capital offence, since it appeared inconsistent to take away life from one who had given it to the child, but preferred inflicting such a punishment as would induce grief and repentance. With this view they ordained that the corpse of the deceased should be fastened to the neck of its parent, and that he should be obliged to pass three whole days and nights in its embrace, under the surveillance of a public guard.

But parricide was visited with the most cruel of chastisements; and conceiving, as they did, that the murder of a parent was the most unnatural of crimes, they endeavored to prevent its occurrence by the marked severity with which it was avenged. The criminal was, therefore, sentenced to be lacerated with sharpened reeds, and, after being thrown on thorns, he was burned to death.

When a woman was guilty of a capital offence, and judgment had been passed upon her, they were particularly careful to ascertain if the condemned was in a state of pregnancy; in which case her punishment was deferred till after the birth of the child, in order that the innocent might not suffer with the guilty, and thus the father be deprived of that child to which he had at least an equal right.

But some of their laws regarding the female sex were cruel and unjustifiable; and even if, which is highly improbable, they succeeded by their severity in enforcing chastity, and in putting an effectual stop to crime, yet the punishment rather reminds us of the laws of a barbarous people than of a wise and civilized state. A woman who had committed adultery was sentenced to lose her nose, upon the principle that, being the most conspicuous feature, and the chief, or, at least, an indispensable, ornament of [236]the face, its loss would be most severely felt, and be the greatest detriment to her personal charms; and the man was condemned to receive a bastinado of one thousand blows. But if it was proved that force had been used against a free woman, he was doomed to a cruel mutilation.

The object of the Egyptian laws was to preserve life, and to reclaim an offender. Death took away every chance of repentance, it deprived the country of his services, and he was hurried out of the world when least prepared to meet the ordeal of a future state. They, therefore, preferred severe punishments, and, except in the case of murder, and some crimes which appeared highly injurious to the community, it was deemed unnecessary to sacrifice the life of an offender.

In military as well as civil cases, minor offences were generally punished with the stick; a mode of chastisement still greatly in vogue among the modern inhabitants of the valley of the Nile, and held in such esteem by them, that convinced of (or perhaps by) its efficacy, they relate "its descent from heaven as a blessing to mankind."

If an Egyptian of the present day has a government debt or tax to pay, he stoutly persists in his inability to obtain the money, till he has withstood a certain number of blows, and considers himself compelled to produce it; and the ancient inhabitants, if not under the rule of their native princes, at least in the time of the Roman emperors, gloried equally in the obstinacy they evinced, and the difficulty the governors of the country experienced in extorting from them what they were bound to pay; whence Ammianus Marcellinus tells us, "an Egyptian blushes if he can not show numerous marks on his body that evince his endeavors to evade the duties."

The bastinado was inflicted on both sexes, as with the Jews. Men and boys were laid prostrate on the ground, and frequently held by the hands and feet while the chastisement was [237]administered; but women, as they sat, received the stripes on their back, which was also inflicted by the hand of a man. Nor was it unusual for the superintendents to stimulate laborers to their work by the persuasive powers of the stick, whether engaged in the field or in handicraft employments; and boys were sometimes beaten without the ceremony of prostration, the hands being tied behind their back while the punishment was applied.

The character of some of the Egyptian laws was quite consonant with the notions of a primitive age. The punishment was directed more particularly against the offending member; and adulterators of money, falsifiers of weights and measures, forgers of seals or signatures, and scribes who altered any signed document by erasures or additions, without the authority of the parties, were condemned to lose both their hands.

But their laws do not seem to have sanctioned the gibbet, or the exposure of the body of an offender; for the conduct of Rhampsinitus, in the case of the robbery of his treasure, is mentioned by Herodotus as a singular mode of discovering an accomplice, and not as an ordinary punishment; if, indeed, the whole story be not the invention of a Greek cicerone.

Thefts, breach of trust, and petty frauds were punished with the bastinado; but robbery and house-breaking were sometimes considered capital crimes, and deserving of death; as is evident from the conduct of the thief when caught by the trap in the treasury of Rhampsinitus, and from what Diodorus states respecting Actisanes.

This monarch, instead of putting robbers to death, instituted a novel mode of punishing them, by cutting off their noses and banishing them to the confines of the desert, where a town was built, called Rhinocolura, from the peculiar nature of their punishment; and thus, by removing the bad, and preventing their corrupting the good, he benefited society, without depriving the criminals of life; at the same time that he punished them severely [238]for their crimes, by obliging them to live by their labors, and derive a precarious sustenance from quails, or whatever they could catch, in that barren region. Commutation of punishment was the foundation of this part of the convict system of Egypt, and Rhinocolura was their Norfolk Island, where a sea of sand separated the worst felons from those guilty of smaller crimes; who were transported to the mines in the desert, and condemned to work for various terms, according to their offence.

The Egyptians had a singular custom respecting theft and burglary. Those who followed the profession of thief gave in their names to the chief of the robbers; and agreed that he should be informed of every thing they might thenceforward steal, the moment it was in their possession. In consequence of this the owner of the lost goods always applied by letter to the chief for their recovery; and having stated their quality and quantity, the day and hour when they were stolen, and other requisite particulars, the goods were identified, and, on payment of one quarter of their value, they were restored to the applicant in the same state as when taken from his house.

For being fully persuaded of the impracticability of putting an entire check to robbery, either by the dread of punishment, or by any method that could be adopted by the most vigilant police, they considered it more for the advantage of the community that a certain sacrifice should be made in order to secure the restitution of the remainder, than that the law, by taking on itself to protect the citizen, and discover the offender, should be the indirect cause of greater loss.

And that the Egyptians, like the Indians, and we may say the modern inhabitants of the Nile, were very expert in the art of stealing, we have abundant testimony from ancient authors.

It may be asked, what redress could be obtained, if goods were stolen by thieves who failed to enter their names on the books of the chief; but it is evident that there could be few of [239]those private speculators, since by their interfering with the interests of all the profession, the detection of such egotistical persons would have been certain; and thus all others were effectually prevented from robbing, save those of the privileged class.

The salary of the chief was not merely derived from his own demands upon the goods stolen, or from any voluntary contribution of the robbers themselves, but was probably a fixed remuneration granted by the government, as one of the chiefs of the police; nor is it to be supposed that he was any other than a respectable citizen, and a man of integrity and honor. The same may be said of the modern "shekh of the thieves," at Cairo, where this very ancient office is still retained.

The great confidence reposed in the public weighers rendered it necessary to enact suitable laws in order to bind them to their duty; and considering how much public property was at their mercy, and how easily bribes might be taken from a dishonest tradesman, the Egyptians inflicted a severe punishment as well on the weighers as on the shopkeepers, who were found to have false weights and measures, or to have defrauded the customer in any other way; and these, as well as the scribes who kept false accounts, were punished (as before stated) with the loss of both their hands; on the principle, says Diodorus, that the offending member should suffer; while the culprit was severely punished, that others might be deterred from the commission of a similar offence.

As in other countries, their laws respecting debt and usury underwent some changes, according as society advanced, and as pecuniary transactions became more complicated.

Bocchoris (who reigned in Egypt about the year 800 B.C., and who, from his learning, obtained the surname of Wise), finding that in cases of debt many causes of dispute had arisen, and instances of great oppression were of frequent occurrence, enacted, that no agreement should be binding unless it were [240]acknowledged by a written contract; and if any one took oath that the money had not been lent him, that no debt should be recognized, and the claims of the suing party should immediately cease. This was done, that great regard might always be had for the name and nature of an oath, at the same time that, by substituting the unquestionable proof of a written document, the necessity of having frequent recourse to an oath was avoided, and its sanctity was not diminished by constant repetition.

Usury was in all cases condemned by the Egyptian legislature; and when money was borrowed, even with a written agreement, it was forbidden to allow the interest to increase to more than double the original sum. Nor could the creditors seize the debtor's person: their claims and right were confined to the goods in his possession, and such as were really his own; which were comprehended under the produce of his labor, or what he had received from another individual to whom they lawfully belonged. For the person of every citizen was looked upon as the property of the state, and might be required for some public service, connected either with war or peace; and, independent of the injustice of subjecting any one to the momentary caprice of his creditor, the safety of the country might be endangered through the avarice of a few interested individuals.

This law, which was borrowed by Solon from the Egyptian code, existed also at Athens; and was, as Diodorus observes, much more consistent with justice and common sense than that which allowed the creditor to seize the person, while it forbade him to take the plows and other implements of industry. For if, continues the historian, it is unjust thus to deprive men of the means of obtaining subsistence, and of providing for their families, how much more unreasonable must it be to imprison those by whom the implements were used!

To prevent the accumulation of debt, and to protect the interests of the creditor, another remarkable law was enacted by [241]Asychis, which, while it shows how greatly they endeavored to check the increasing evil, proves the high respect paid by the Egyptians to the memory of their parents, and to the sanctity of their religious ceremonies. By this it was pronounced illegal for any one to borrow money without giving in pledge the body of his father, or the tomb of his ancestors; and, if he failed to redeem so sacred a deposit, he was considered infamous; and, at his death, the celebration of the accustomed funeral obsequies was denied him, and he could not enjoy the right of burial either in that tomb or in any other place of sepulture; nor could he inter his children, or any of his family, as long as the debt was unpaid, the creditor being put in actual possession of the family tomb.

In the large cities of Egypt, a fondness for display, and the usual allurements of luxury, were rapidly introduced; and considerable sums were expended in furnishing houses, and in many artificial caprices. Rich jewels and costly works of art were in great request, as well among the inhabitants of the provincial capitals, as at Thebes and Memphis; they delighted in splendid equipages, elegant and commodious boats, numerous attendants, horses, dogs, and other requisites for the chase; and, besides, their houses, their villas and their gardens, were laid out with no ordinary expense. But while the funds arising from extensive farms, and the abundant produce of a fertile soil, enabled the rich to indulge extravagant habits, many of the less wealthy envied the enjoyment of those luxuries which fortune had denied to them; and, prompted by vanity, and a silly desire of imitation, so common in civilized communities, they pursued a career which speedily led to the accumulation of debt, and demanded the interference of the legislature; and it is probable that a law, so severe as this must have appeared to the Egyptians, was only adopted as a measure of absolute necessity, in order to put a check to the increasing evil.

[242]The necessary expenses of the Egyptians were remarkably small, less, indeed, than of any people; and the food of the poorer classes was of the cheapest and most simple kind. Owing to the warmth of the climate, they required few clothes, and young children were in the habit of going without shoes, and with little or no covering to their bodies. It was, therefore, luxury, and the increasing wants of an artificial kind, which corrupted the manners of the Egyptians, and rendered such a law necessary for their restraint; and we may conclude that it was mainly directed against those who contracted debts for the gratification of pleasure, or with the premeditated intent of defrauding an unsuspecting creditor.

In the mode of executing deeds, conveyances, and other civil contracts, the Egyptians were peculiarly circumstantial and minute; and the great number of witnesses is a singular feature in those documents. In the time of the Ptolemies, sales of property commenced with a preamble, containing the date of the king in whose reign they were executed; the name of the president of the court, and of the clerk by whom they were written, being also specified. The body of the contract then followed.

It stated the name of the individual who sold the land, the description of his person, an account of his parentage, profession, and place of abode, the extent and nature of the land, its situation and boundaries, and concluded with the name of the purchaser, whose parentage and description were also added, and the sum for which it was bought. The seller then vouched for his undisturbed possession of it; and, becoming security against any attempt to dispute his title, the name of the other party was inserted as having accepted it, and acknowledged the purchase. The names of witnesses were then affixed; and, the president of the court having added his signature, the deed was valid. Sometimes the seller formally recognized the sale in the following manner:

[243]"All these things have I sold thee: they are thine, I have received their price from thee, and will make no demand upon thee for them from this day; and if any person disturb thee in the possession of them, I will withstand the attempt; and, if I do not otherwise repel it, I will use compulsory means, or, I will indemnify thee."

But, in order to give a more accurate notion of the form of these contracts, we shall introduce a copy of the whole of one of them, as given by Dr. Young, and refer the reader to others occurring in the same work. "Translation of the enchorial papyrus of Paris, containing the original deed relating to the mummies:—'This writing dated in the year 36, Athyr 20, in the reign of our sovereigns Ptolemy and Cleopatra his sister, the children of Ptolemy and Cleopatra the divine, the gods Illustrious: and the priest of Alexander, and of the Saviour gods, of the Brother gods, of the Beneficent gods, of the Father-loving gods, of the Illustrious gods, of the Paternal god, and of the Mother-loving gods, being (as by law appointed): and the prize-bearer of Berenice the Beneficent, and the basket-bearer of Arsinoe the Brother-loving, and the priestess of Arsinoe the Father-loving, being as appointed in the metropolis (of Alexandria); and in (Ptolemais) the royal city of the Thebaid? the guardian priest for the year? of Ptolemy Soter, and the priest of king Ptolemy the Father-loving, and the priest of Ptolemy the Brother-loving, and the priest of Ptolemy the Beneficent, and the priest of Ptolemy the Mother-loving; and the priestess of queen Cleopatra, and the priestess of the princess Cleopatra, and the priestess of Cleopatra, the (queen) mother, deceased, the Illustrious; and the basket-bearer of Arsinoe the Brother-loving (being as appointed): declares: The Dresser? in the temple of the Goddess Onnophris, the son of Horus, and of Senpoeris, daughter of Spotus? ("aged about forty, lively,") tall ("of a sallow complexion, hollow-eyed, and bald"); in the temple of the [244]goddess to (Horus) his brother? the son of Horus and of Senpoeris, has sold, for a price in money, half of one-third of the collections for the dead "priests of Osiris?" lying in Thynabunum ... in the Libyan suburbs of Thebes, in the Memnonia ... likewise half of one-third of the liturgies: their names being, Muthes, the son of Spotus, with his children and his household; Chapocrates, the son of Nechthmonthes, with his children and his household; Arsiesis, the son of Nechthmonthes, with his children and his household; Petemestus, the son of Nechthmonthes; Arsiesis, the son of Zminis, with his children and his household; Osoroeris, the son of Horus, with his children and his household; Spotus, the son of Chapochonsis, surnamed? Zoglyphus (the sculptor), with his children and his household; while there belonged also to Asos, the son of Horus and of Senpoeris, daughter of Spotus? in the same manner one-half of a third of the collections for the dead, and of the fruits and so forth ... he sold it on the 20th of Athyr, in the reign of the King ever-living, to (complete) the third part: likewise the half of one-third of the collections relating to Peteutemis, with his household, and ... likewise the half of one-third? of the collections and fruits for Petechonsis, the bearer of milk, and of the ... place on the Asian side, called Phrecages, and ... the dead bodies in it: there having belonged to Asos, the son of Horus, one-half of the same: he has sold to him in the month of ... the half of one-third of the collections for the priests of Osiris? lying in Thynabunum, with their children and their households: likewise the half of one-third of the collections for Peteutemis, and also for Petechonsis, the bearer of milk, in the place Phrecages on the Asian side: I have received for them their price in silver ... and gold; and I make no further demand on thee for them from the present day ... before the authorities ... (and if any one shall disturb thee in the possession of them, I will resist him, and, if I do not succeed, I [245]will indemnify thee?).... Executed and confirmed. Written by Horus, the son of Phabis, clerk to the chief priests of Amonrasonther, and of the contemplar? Gods, of the Beneficent gods, of the Father-loving gods, of the Paternal god, and of the Mother-loving gods. Amen.

In this, as in many other documents, the testimony required is very remarkable, sixteen witnesses being thought necessary for the sale of a moiety of the sums collected on account of a few tombs, and for services performed to the dead, the total value of which was only 400 pieces of brass; and the name of each person is introduced, in the true Oriental style, with that of his father. Nor is it unreasonable to suppose that the same precautions and minute formulas were observed in similar transactions during the reigns of the Pharaonic kings, however great may have been the change introduced by the Ptolemies and Romans into the laws and local government of Egypt.

The Egyptians paid great attention to health, and "so wisely," says Herodotus, "was medicine managed by them, that no doctor was permitted to practice any but his own peculiar branch. Some were oculists, who only studied diseases of the [246]eye; others attended solely to complaints of the head; others to those of the teeth; some again confined themselves to complaints of the intestines; and others to secret and internal maladies; accoucheurs being usually, if not always, women." And it is a singular fact, that their dentists adopted a method, not very long practiced in Europe, of stopping teeth with gold, proofs of which have been obtained from some mummies of Thebes.

They received certain salaries from the public treasury; and after they had studied those precepts which had been laid down from the experience of their predecessors, they were permitted to practice; and, in order to prevent dangerous experiments being made upon patients, they might be punished if their treatment was contrary to the established system; and the death of a person entrusted to their care, under such circumstances, was adjudged to them as a capital offence.

If, however, every remedy had been administered according to the sanitary law, they were absolved from blame; and if the patient was not better, the physician was allowed to alter the treatment after the third day, or even before, if he took upon himself the responsibility.

Though paid by Government as a body, it was not illegal to receive fees for their advice and attendance; and demands could be made in every instance except on a foreign journey, and on military service; when patients were visited free of expense.

The principal mode adopted by the Egyptians for preventing illness was attention to regimen and diet; "being persuaded that the majority of diseases proceed from indigestion and excess of eating;" and they had frequent recourse to abstinence, emetics, slight doses of medicine, and other simple means of relieving the system, which some persons were in the habit of repeating every two or three days.

[247]

"Those who lived in the corn country," as Herodotus terms it, were particular for their attention to health. "During three [248]successive days, every month, they submitted to a regular course of treatment; from the conviction that illness was wont to proceed from some irregularity in diet;" and if preventives were ineffectual they had recourse to suitable remedies, adopting a mode of treatment very similar to that mentioned by Diodorus.

The employment of numerous drugs in Egypt has been mentioned by sacred and profane writers; and the medicinal properties of many herbs which grow in the deserts, particularly between the Nile and Red Sea, are still known to the Arabs; though their application has been but imperfectly recorded and preserved.

"O virgin, daughter of Egypt," says Jeremiah, "in vain shalt thou use many medicines, for thou shalt not be cured;" and Homer, in the Odyssey, describes the many valuable medicines given by Polydamna, the wife of Thonis, to Helen while in Egypt, "a country whose fertile soil produces an infinity of drugs, some salutary and some pernicious; where each physician possesses knowledge above all other men."

Pliny makes frequent mention of the productions of that country, and their use in medicine; he also notices the physicians of Egypt; and as if their number were indicative of the many maladies to which the inhabitants were subject, he observes, that it was a country productive of numerous diseases. In this, however, he does not agree with Herodotus, who affirms that, "after the Libyans, there are no people so healthy as the Egyptians, which may be attributed to the invariable nature of the seasons in their country."

Pliny even says that the Egyptians examined the bodies after death, to ascertain the nature of the diseases of which they had died; and we can readily believe that a people so far advanced in civilization and the principles of medicine as to assign to each physician his peculiar branch, would have resorted to this effectual method of acquiring knowledge and experience.

[249]It is evident that the medical science of the Egyptians was sought and appreciated even in foreign countries; and we learn from Herodotus, that Cyrus and Darius both sent to Egypt for medical men. In later times, too, they continued to be celebrated for their skill; Ammianus says it was enough for a doctor to say he had studied in Egypt to recommend him; and Pliny mentions medical men going from Egypt to Rome. But though their physicians are often noticed by ancient writers, the only indication of medical attendance appears to be in the paintings of Beni Hassan; and even there it is uncertain whether a doctor, or a barber, be represented.

Their doctors probably felt the pulse; as Plutarch shows they did at Rome, from this saying of Tiberius, "a man after he has passed his thirtieth year, who puts forth his hand to a physician, is ridiculous;" whence our proverb of "a fool or a physician after forty."

Diodorus tells us, that dreams were regarded in Egypt with religious reverence, and the prayers of the devout were often rewarded by the gods, with an indication of the remedy their sufferings required; and magic, charms, and various supernatural agencies, were often resorted to by the credulous; who "sought to the idols, and to the charmers, and to them that had familiar spirits, and to the wizards."

Origen also says, that when any part of the body was afflicted with disease, they invoked the demon to whom it was supposed to belong, in order to obtain a cure.

In cases of great moment oracles were consulted; and a Greek papyrus found in Egypt mentions divination "through a boy with a lamp, a bowl, and a pit;" which resembles the pretended power of the modern magicians of Egypt. The same also notices the mode of discovering theft, and obtaining any wish; and though it is supposed to be of the 2d century, the practices it alludes to are doubtless from an old Egyptian source; and other [250]similar papyri contain recipes for obtaining good fortune and various benefits, or for causing misfortunes to an enemy.

Some suppose the Egyptians had even recourse to animal magnetism, and that dreams indicating cures were the result of this influence; and (though the subjects erroneously supposed to represent it apply to a very different act) it is not impossible that they may have discovered the mode of exercising this art, and that it may have been connected with the strange scenes recorded at the initiation into the mysteries. If really known, such a power would scarcely have been neglected; and it would have been easy to obtain thereby an ascendency over the minds of a superstitious people.

Indeed, the readiness of man at all times to astonish on the one hand, and to court the marvelous on the other, is abundantly proved by present and past experience. That the nervous system may be worked upon by it to such a degree that a state either of extreme irritability, or of sleep and coma, may be induced, in the latter case paralyzing the senses so as to become deadened to pain, is certain; and a highly sensitive temperament may exhibit phenomena beyond the reach of explanation; but it requires very little experience to know that we are wonderfully affected by far more ordinary causes; for the nerves may be acted upon to such an extent by having as we commonly term it "our teeth set on edge," that the mere filing a saw would suffice to drive any one mad, if unable to escape from its unceasing discord. What is this but an effect upon the nerves? and what more could be desired to prove the power of any agency? And the world would owe a debt of gratitude to the professors of animal magnetism, if, instead of making it, as some do, a mere exhibition to display a power, and astonish the beholders, they would continue the efforts already begun, for discovering all the beneficial uses to which it is capable of being applied.

We might then rejoice that, as astrology led to the more [251]useful knowledge of astronomy, this influence enabled us to comprehend our nervous system, on which so many conditions of health depend, and with which we are so imperfectly acquainted.

The cure of diseases was also attributed by the Egyptians to Exvotos offered in the temples. They consisted of various kinds. Some persons promised a certain sum for the maintenance of the sacred animals; or whatever might propitiate the deity; and after the cure had been effected, they frequently suspended a model of the restored part in the temple; and ears, eyes, distorted arms, and other members, were dedicated as memorials of their gratitude and superstition.

Sometimes travelers, who happened to pass by a temple, inscribed a votive sentence on the walls, to indicate their respect for the deity, and solicit his protection during their journey; the complete formula of which contained the adoration of the writer, with the assurance that he had been mindful of his wife, his family, and friends; and the reader of the inscription was sometimes included in a share of the blessings it solicited. The date of the king's reign and the day of the month were also added, with the profession and parentage of the writer. The complete formula of one adoration was as follows:

"The adoration of Caius Capitolinus, son of Flavius Julius, of the fifth troop of Theban horse, to the goddess Isis, with ten thousand names. And I have been mindful of (or have made an adoration for) all those who love me, and my consort, and children, and all my household, and for him who reads this. In the year 12 of the emperor Tiberius Cæsar, the 15 of Pauni."

The Egyptians, according to Pliny, claimed the honor of having invented the art of curing diseases. Indeed, the study of medicine and surgery appears to have commenced at a very early period in Egypt, since Athothes, the second king of the country, is stated to have written upon the subject of anatomy; and the schools of Alexandria continued till a late period to enjoy the [252]reputation, and display the skill, they had inherited from their predecessors. Hermes was said to have written six books on medicine, the first of which related to anatomy; and the various recipes, known to have been beneficial, were recorded, with their peculiar cases, in the memoirs of physic inscribed among the laws deposited in the principal temples.

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[253]

Houses, Villas, Farmyards, Orchards, Gardens, Etc.

The monumental records and various works of art, and, above all, the writings, of the Greeks and Romans, have made us acquainted with their customs and their very thoughts; and though the literature of the Egyptians is almost unknown, their monuments, especially the paintings in the tombs, have afforded us an insight into their mode of life scarcely to be obtained from those of any other people. The influence that Egypt had in early times on Greece gives to every inquiry respecting it an additional interest; and the frequent mention of the Egyptians in the Bible connects them with the Hebrew Records, of which many satisfactory illustrations occur in the sculptures of Pharaonic times. Their great antiquity also enables us to understand the condition of the world long before the era of written history; all existing monuments left by other people are comparatively modern; and the paintings in Egypt are the earliest descriptive illustrations of the manners and customs of any nation.

It is from these that we are enabled to form an opinion of the character of the Egyptians. They have been pronounced a serious, gloomy people, saddened by the habit of abtruse speculation; but how far this conclusion agrees with fact will be seen in the sequel. They were, no doubt, less lively than the Greeks; but if a comparatively late writer, Ammianus [254]Marcellinus, may have remarked a "rather sad" expression, after they had been for ages under successive foreign yokes, this can scarcely be admitted as a testimony of their character in the early times of their prosperity; and though a sadness of expression might be observed in the present oppressed population, they can not be considered a grave or melancholy people. Much, indeed, may be learned from the character of the modern Egyptians; and notwithstanding the infusion of foreign blood, particularly of the Arab invaders, every one must perceive the strong resemblance they bear to their ancient predecessors. It is a common error to suppose that the conquest of a country gives an entirely new character to the inhabitants. The immigration of a whole nation taking possession of a thinly-peopled country, will have this effect, when the original inhabitants are nearly all driven out by the new-comers; but immigration has not always, and conquest never has, for its object the destruction or expulsion of the native population; they are found useful to the victors, and as necessary for them as the cattle or the productions of the soil. Invaders are always numerically inferior to the conquered nation—even to the male population; and, when the women are added to the number, the majority is greatly in favor of the original race, and they must exercise immense influence on the character of the rising generation. The customs, too, of the old inhabitants are very readily adopted by the new-comers, especially when they are found to suit the climate and the peculiarities of the country they have been formed in; and the habits of a small mass of settlers living in contact with them fade away more and more with each successive generation. So it has been in Egypt; and, as usual, the conquered people bear the stamp of the ancient inhabitants rather than that of the Arab conquerors.

Of the various institutions of the ancient Egyptians, none are more interesting than those which relate to their social life; and when we consider the condition of other countries in the early [255]ages when they flourished, from the 10th to the 20th century before our era, we may look with respect on the advancement they had then made in civilization, and acknowledge the benefits they conferred upon mankind during their career. For like other people, they have had their part in the great scheme of the world's development, and their share of usefulness in the destined progress of the human race; for countries, like individuals, have certain qualities given them, which, differing from those of their predecessors and contemporaries are intended in due season to perform their requisite duties. The interest felt in the Egyptians is from their having led the way, or having been the first people we know of who made any great progress, in the arts and manners of civilization; which, for the period when they lived, was very creditable, and far beyond that of other kingdoms of the world. Nor can we fail to remark the difference between them and their Asiatic rivals, the Assyrians, who, even at a much later period, had the great defects of Asiatic cruelty—flaying alive, impaling, and torturing their prisoners, as the Persians, Turks, and other Orientals have done to the present century, the reproach of which can not be extended to the ancient Egyptians. Being the dominant race of that age, they necessarily had an influence on others with whom they came in contact; and it is by these means that civilization is advanced through its various stages; each people striving to improve on the lessons derived from a neighbor whose institutions they appreciate, or consider beneficial to themselves. It was thus that the active mind of the talented Greeks sought and improved on the lessons derived from other countries, especially from Egypt; and though the latter, at the late period of the 7th century B.C., had lost its greatness and the prestige of superiority among the nations of the world, it was still the seat of learning and the resort of studious philosophers; and the abuses consequent on the fall of an empire had not yet brought about the demoralization of after times.

[256]The early part of Egyptian monumental history is coeval with the arrivals of Abraham and of Joseph, and the Exodus of the Israelites; and we know from the Bible what was the state of the world at that time. But then, and apparently long before, the habits of social life in Egypt were already what we find them to have been during the most glorious period of their career; and as the people had already laid aside their arms, and military men only carried them when on service, some notion may be had of the very remote date of Egyptian civilization. In the treatment of women they seem to have been very far advanced beyond other wealthy communities of the same era, having usages very similar to those of the modern world; and such was the respect shown to women that precedence was given to them over men, and the wives and daughters of kings succeeded to the throne like the male branches of the royal family. Nor was this privilege rescinded, even though it had more than once entailed upon them the trouble of a contested succession; foreign kings often having claimed a right to the throne through marriage with an Egyptian princess. It was not a mere influence that they possessed, which women often acquire in the most arbitrary Eastern communities; nor a political importance accorded to a particular individual, like that of the Sultana Valideh, the Queen Mother, at Constantinople; it was a right acknowledged by law, both in private and public life. They knew that unless women were treated with respect, and made to exercise an influence over society, the standard of public opinion would soon be lowered, and the manners and morals of men would suffer; and in acknowledging this, they pointed out to women the very responsible duties they had to perform to the community.

From their private life great insight is obtained into their character and customs: and their household arrangements, the style of their dwellings, their amusements and their occupations, explain their habits; as their institutions, mode of government, [257]arts and military knowledge illustrate their history, and their relative positions among the nations of antiquity. In their form and arrangement, the houses were made to suit the climate, modified according to their advancement in civilization; and we are often enabled to trace in their abodes some of the primitive habits of a people, long after they have been settled in towns, and have adopted the manners of wealthy communities; as the tent may still be traced in the houses of the Turks, and the small original wooden chamber in the mansions and temples of ancient Greece.

As in all warm climates, the poorer classes of Egyptians lived much in the open air; and the houses of the rich were constructed to be cool throughout the summer; currents of refreshing air being made to circulate freely through them by the judicious arrangement of the passages and courts. Corridors, supported on columns, gave access to the different apartments through a succession of shady avenues and areas, with one side open to the air, as in cloisters; and even small detached houses had an open court in the centre, planted as a garden with palms and other trees. Mulkufs, or wooden wind-sails, were also fixed over the terraces of the upper story, facing the prevalent and cool N.W. wind, which was conducted down their sloping boards into the interior of the house. They were exactly similar to those in the modern houses of Cairo; and some few were double, facing in opposite directions.

The houses were built of crude brick, stuccoed and painted, with all the combinations of bright color in which the Egyptians delighted; and a highly decorated mansion had numerous courts, and architectural details derived from the temples. Over the door was sometimes a sentence, as "the good house;" or the name of a king, under whom the owner probably held some office; many other symbols of good omen were also put up, as at the entrances of modern Egyptian houses; and a visit to some temple gave as [258]good a claim to a record as the pilgrimage to Mecca, at the present day. Poor people were satisfied with very simple tenements; their wants being easily supplied, both as to lodging and food; and their house consisted of four walls, with a flat roof of palm-branches laid across a split date-tree as a beam, and covered with mats plastered over with a thick coating of mud. It had one door and a few small windows closed by wooden shutters. As it scarcely ever rained, the mud roof was not washed into the sitting room; and this cottage rather answered as a shelter from the sun, and as a closet for their goods, than for the ordinary purpose of a house in other countries. Indeed at night the owners slept on the roof, during the greater part of the year; and as most of their work was done out of doors, they might easily be persuaded that a house was far less necessary for them than a tomb. To convince the rich of this ultra-philosophical sentiment was not so easy; at least the practice differed from the theory; and though it was promulgated among all the Egyptians, it did not prevent the priests and other grandees from living in very luxurious abodes, or enjoying the good things of this world; and a display of wealth was found to be useful in maintaining their power, and in securing the obedience of a credulous people. The worldly possessions of the priests were therefore very extensive, and if they imposed on themselves occasional habits of abstemiousness, avoided certain kinds of unwholesome food, and performed many mysterious observances, they were amply repaid by the improvement of their health, and by the influence they thereby acquired. Superior intelligence enabled them to put their own construction on regulations emanating from their sacred body, with the convenient persuasion that what suited them did not suit others; and the profane vulgar were expected to do, not as the priests did, but as they taught them to do.

In their plans the houses of towns, like the villas in the country, varied according to the caprice of the builders. The [259]ground-plan, in some of the former, consisted of a number of chambers on three sides of a court, which was often planted with trees. Others consisted of two rows of rooms on either side of a long passage, with an entrance-court from the street; and others were laid out in chambers round a central area, similar to the Roman Impluvium, and paved with stone, or containing a few trees, a tank or a fountain in its centre. Sometimes, though rarely, a flight of steps led to the front door from the street.

Houses of small size were often connected together and formed the continuous sides of streets; and a court-yard was common to several dwellings. Others of a humbler kind consisted merely of rooms opening on a narrow passage, or directly on the street. These had only a basement story, or ground-floor; and few houses exceeded two stories above it. They mostly consisted of one upper floor; and though Diodorus speaks of the lofty houses in Thebes four and five stories high, the paintings show that few had three, and the largest seldom four, including, as he does, the basement-story. Even the greater portion of the house was confined to a first floor, with an additional story in one part, on which was a terrace covered by an awning, or a light roof supported on columns. This served for the ladies of the family to sit at work in during the day, and here the master of the house often slept at night during the summer, or took his siesta in the afternoon. Some had a tower which rose even above the terrace.

The first-floor was what the Italians call the "piano nobile;" the ground rooms being chiefly used for stores, or as offices, of which one was set apart for the porter, and another for visitors coming on business. Sometimes besides the parlor were receiving apartments on the basement-story, but guests were generally entertained on the first-floor; and on this were the sleeping-rooms also, except where the house was of two or three stories. The houses of wealthy citizens often covered a considerable space, and either stood directly upon the street, or a short way back, within [260]an open court; and some large mansions were detached, and had several entrances on two or three sides. Before the door was a porch supported on two columns, decked with banners or ribbons, and larger porticoes had a double row of columns, with statues between them.

In the distribution of the apartments numerous and different modes were adopted, according to circumstances; in general, however, the large mansions seem to have consisted of a court and several corridors, with rooms leading from them, not unlike many of those now built in Oriental and tropical countries. The houses in most of the Egyptian towns are quite destroyed, leaving few traces of their plans, or even of their sites; but sufficient remains of some at Thebes, at Tel el Amarna, and other places, to enable us, with the help of the sculptures, to ascertain their form and appearance.

Granaries were also laid out in a very regular manner, and varied of course in plan as much as the houses, to which there is reason to believe they were frequently attached, even in the towns; and they were sometimes only separated from the house by an avenue of trees.

Some small houses consisted merely of a court, and three or four store-rooms on the ground-floor, with a single chamber above, to which a flight of steps led from the court; but they were probably only met with in the country, and resembled some still found in the fellah villages of modern Egypt. Very similar to these was the model of a house now in the British Museum, which solely consisted of a court-yard and three small store-rooms on the ground-floor, with a staircase leading to a room belonging to the storekeeper, which was furnished with a narrow window or aperture opposite the door, rather intended for the purposes of ventilation than to admit the light. In the court a woman was represented making bread, as is sometimes done at the present day in Egypt, in the open air; and the store-rooms were full of grain.

[261]Other small houses in towns consisted of two or three stories above the ground-floor. They had no court, and stood close together, covering a small space, and high in proportion to their base, like many of those at Karnak. The lower part had merely the door of entrance and some store-rooms, over which were a first and second floor, each with three windows on the front and side, and above these an attic without windows, and a staircase leading to a terrace on the flat roof. The floors were laid on rafters, the end of which projected slightly from the walls like dentils; and the courses of brick were in waving or concave lines, as in the walls of an enclosure at Dayr el Medeeneh in Thebes. The windows of the first-floor had a sort of mullion dividing them into two lights each, with a transom above; and the upper windows were filled with trellis-work, or cross bars of wood, as in many Turkish harems. A model of a house of this kind is also in the British Museum. But the generality of Egyptian houses were far less regular in their plan and elevation; and the usual disregard for symmetry is generally observable in the houses even of towns.

The doors, both of the entrances and of the inner apartments, were frequently stained to imitate foreign and rare woods. They were either of one or two valves, turning on pins of metal, and were secured within by a bar or bolts. Some of these bronze pins have been discovered in the tombs of Thebes. They were fastened to the wood with nails of the same metal, whose round heads served also as an ornament, and the upper one had a projection at the back, in order to prevent the door striking against the wall. We also find in the stone lintels and floor, behind the thresholds of the tombs and temples, the holes in which they turned, as well as those of the bolts and bars, and the recess for receiving the opened valves. The folding doors had bolts in the centre, sometimes above as well as below; a bar was placed across from one wall to the other; and in many instances wooden [262]locks secured them by passing over the centre, at the junction of the two folds. For greater security they were occasionally sealed with a mass of clay, as is proved by some tombs found closed at Thebes, by the sculptures, and in the account given by Herodotus of Rhampsinitus' treasury.

Keys were made of bronze or iron, and consisted of a long straight shank, about five inches in length, with three or more projecting teeth; others had a nearer resemblance to the wards of modern keys, with a short shank about an inch long; and some resembled a common ring with the wards at its back. These are probably of Roman date. The earliest mention of a key is in Judges (iii. 23-25), when Ehud having gone "through the porch, and shut the doors of the parlor upon him and locked them," Eglon's "servants took a key and opened them."

The doorways, like those in the temples, were often surmounted by the Egyptian cornice; others were variously decorated, and some, represented in the tombs, were surrounded with a variety of ornaments, as usual richly painted. These last, though sometimes found at Thebes, were more general about Memphis and the Delta; and two good instances of them are preserved at the British Museum, brought from a tomb near the Pyramids.

Even at the early period when the Pyramids were built, the doors were of one or two valves: and both those of the rooms and the entrance doors opened inwards, contrary to the custom of the Greeks, who were consequently obliged to strike on the inside of the street door before they opened it, in order to warn persons passing by; and the Romans were forbidden to make it open outward without a special permission.

The floors were of stone, or a composition made of lime or other materials; but in humbler abodes they were formed of split date-tree beams, arranged close together or at intervals, with planks or transverse layers of palm branches over them, [263]covered with mats and a coating of mud. Many roofs were vaulted, and built like the rest of the house of crude brick; and not only have arches been found of that material dating in the 16th century before our era, but vaulted granaries appear to be represented of much earlier date. Bricks, indeed, led to the invention of the arch; the want of timber in Egypt having pointed out the necessity of some substitute for it.

Wood was imported in great quantities; deal and cedar were brought from Syria; and rare woods were part of the tribute imposed on foreign nations conquered by the Pharaohs. And so highly were these appreciated for ornamental purposes, that painted imitations were made for poorer persons who could not afford them; and the panels, windows, doors, boxes, and various kinds of woodwork, were frequently of cheap deal or sycamore, stained to resemble the rarest foreign woods. And the remnants of them found at Thebes show that these imitations were clever substitutes for the reality. Even coffins were sometimes made of foreign wood; and many are found of cedar of Lebanon. The value of foreign woods also suggested to the Egyptians the process of veneering; and this was one of the arts of their skillful cabinet makers.

The ceilings were of stucco, richly painted with various devices, tasteful both in their form and the arrangement of the colors; among the oldest of which is the Guilloche, often miscalled the Tuscan or Greek border.

Both in the interior and exterior of their houses the walls were sometimes portioned out into large panels of one uniform color, flush with the surface, or recessed, not very unlike those at Pompeii; and they were red, yellow, or stained to resemble stone or wood. It seems to have been the introduction of this mode of ornament into Roman houses that excited the indignation of Vitruvius; who says that in old times they used red paint sparingly, like physic, though now whole walls are covered over with it.

[264]Figures were also introduced on the blank walls in the sitting-rooms, or scenes from domestic life, surrounded by ornamental borders, and surmounted by deep cornices of flowers and various devices richly painted; and no people appear to have been more fond of using flowers on every occasion. In their domestic architecture they formed the chief ornament of the mouldings; and every visitor received a bouquet of real flowers, as a token of welcome on entering a house. It was the pipe and coffee of the modern Egyptians; and a guest at a party was not only presented with a lotus, or some other flower, but had a chaplet placed round his head, and another round his neck; which led the Roman poet to remark the "many chaplets on the foreheads" of the Egyptians at their banquets. Everywhere flowers abounded; they were formed into wreaths and festoons, they decked the stands that supported the vases in the convivial chamber, and crowned the wine-bowl as well as the servants who bore the cup from it to the assembled guests.

The villas of the Egyptians were of great extent, and contained spacious gardens, watered by canals communicating with the Nile. They had large tanks of water in different parts of the garden, which served for ornament, as well as for irrigation, when the Nile was low; and on these the master of the house occasionally amused himself and his friends by an excursion in a pleasure-boat towed by his servants. They also enjoyed the diversion of angling and spearing fish in the ponds within their grounds, and on these occasions they were generally accompanied by a friend, or one or more members of their family. Particular care was always bestowed upon the garden, and their great fondness for flowers is shown by the number they always cultivated, as well as by the women of the family or the attendants presenting bouquets to the master of the house and his friends when they walked there.

The house itself was sometimes ornamented with propylæ [265]and obelisks, like the temples themselves; it is even possible that part of the building may have been consecrated to religious purposes, as the chapels of other countries, since we find a priest engaged in presenting offerings at the door of the inner chambers; and, indeed, were it not for the presence of the women, the form of the garden, and the style of the porch, we should feel disposed to consider it a temple rather than a place of abode. The entrances of large villas were generally through folding gates, standing between lofty towers, as at the courts of temples, with a small door at each side; and others had merely folding-gates, with the jambs surmounted by a cornice. One general wall of circuit extended round the premises, but the courts of the house, the garden, the offices, and all the other parts of the villa had each their separate enclosure. The walls were usually built of crude brick, and, in damp places, or when within reach of the inundation, the lower part was strengthened by a basement of stone. They were sometimes ornamented with panels and grooved lines, generally stuccoed, and the summit was crowned either with Egyptian battlements, the usual cornice, a row of spikes in imitation of spear-heads, or with some fancy ornament.

The plans of the villas varied according to circumstances, but their general arrangement is sufficiently explained by the paintings. They were surrounded by a high wall, about the middle of which was the main or front entrance, with one central and two side gates, leading to an open walk shaded by rows of trees. Here were spacious tanks of water, facing the doors of the right and left wings of the house, between which an avenue led from the main entrance to what may be called the centre of the mansion. After passing the outer door of the right wing, you entered an open court with trees, extending quite round a nucleus of inner apartments, and having a back entrance communicating with the garden. On the right and left of this court were six or more store-rooms, a small receiving or waiting room [266]at two of the corners, and at the other end the staircases which led to the upper stories. Both of the inner facades were furnished with a corridor, supported on columns, with similar towers and gateways. The interior of this wing consisted of twelve rooms, two outer and one center court, communicating by folding gates; and on either side of this last was the main entrance to the rooms on the ground-floor, and to the staircases leading to the upper story. At the back were three long rooms, and a gateway opening on the garden, which, besides flowers, contained a variety of trees, a summer-house, and a large tank of water.

The arrangement of the left wing was different. The front gate led to an open court, extending the whole breadth of the facade of the building, and backed by the wall of the inner part. Central and lateral doors thence communicated with another court, surrounded on three sides by a set of rooms, and behind it was a corridor, upon which several other chambers opened.

This wing had no back entrance, and standing isolated, the outer court extended entirely around it; and a succession of doorways communicated from the court with different sections of the centre of the house, where the rooms, disposed like those already described, around passages and corridors, served partly as sitting apartments, and partly as store-rooms.

The stables for the horses and the coach-houses for the traveling chariots and carts, were in the centre, or inner part of the building; but the farm-yard where the cattle were kept stood at some distance from the house, and corresponded to the department known by the Romans under the name of rustica. Though enclosed separately, it was within the general wall of circuit, which surrounded the land attached to the villa; and a canal, bringing water from the river, skirted it, and extended along the back of the grounds. It consisted of two parts; the sheds for housing the cattle, which stood at the upper end, and the yard, where rows of rings were fixed, in order to tie them while [267]feeding in the day-time; and men always attended, and frequently fed them with the hand.

The granaries were also apart from the house, and were enclosed within a separate wall; and some of the rooms in which they housed the grain appear to have had vaulted roofs. These were filled through an aperture near the top, to which the men ascended by steps, and the grain when wanted was taken out from a door at the base.

The superintendence of the house and grounds was intrusted to stewards, who regulated the tillage of the land, received whatever was derived from the sale of the produce, overlooked the returns of the quantity of cattle or stock upon the estate, settled all the accounts, and condemned the delinquent peasants to the bastinado, or any punishment they might deserve. To one were intrusted the affairs of the house, answering to "the ruler," "overseer," or "steward of Joseph's house;" others "superintended the granaries," the vineyard, or the culture of the fields; and the extent of their duties, or the number of those employed, depended on the quantity of land, or the will of its owner.

The mode of laying out their gardens was as varied as that of the houses; but in all cases they appear to have taken particular care to command a plentiful supply of water, by means of reservoirs and canals. Indeed, in no country is artificial irrigation more required than in the valley of the Nile; and, from the circumstance of the water of the inundation not being admitted into the gardens, they depend throughout the year on the supply obtained from wells and tanks, or a neighboring canal.

The mode of irrigation adopted by the ancient Egyptians was exceedingly simple, being merely the shadoof, or pole and bucket of the present day; and, in many instances, men were employed to carry the water in pails, suspended by a wooden yoke they bore upon their shoulders. The same yoke was employed for carrying other things, as boxes, baskets containing game and [268]poultry, or whatever was taken to market; and every trade seems to have used it for this purpose, from the potter and the brick-maker, to the carpenter and the shipwright.

Part of the garden was laid out in walks shaded with trees, usually planted in rows, and surrounded, at the base of the stem, with a circular ridge of earth, which, being lower at the centre than at the circumference, retained the water, and directed it more immediately towards the roots. It is difficult to say if trees were trimmed into any particular shape, or if their formal appearance in the sculpture is merely owing to a conventional mode of representing them; but, since the pomegranate, and some other fruit trees, are drawn with spreading and irregular branches, it is possible that sycamores, and others, which presented large masses of foliage, were really trained in that formal manner, though, from the hieroglyphic signifying "tree" having the same shape, we may conclude it was only a general character for all trees.

Some, as the pomegranates, date-trees, and dom-palms, are easily recognized in the sculptures, but the rest are doubtful, as are the flowering plants, with the exception of the lotus and a few others.

To the garden department belonged the care of the bees, which were kept in hives very like our own. In Egypt they required great attention; and so few are its plants at the present day, that the owners of hives often take the bees in boats to various spots upon the Nile, in quest of flowers. They are a smaller kind than our own; and though found wild in the country, they are far less numerous than wasps, hornets, and ichneumons. The wild bees live mostly under stones, or in clefts of the rock, as in many other countries; and the expression of Moses, as of the Psalmist, "honey out of the rock," shows that in Palestine their habits were the same. Honey was thought of great importance in Egypt, both for household purposes, and for [269]an offering to the gods; that of Benha (thence surnamed El assal), or Athribis, in the Delta, retained its reputation to a late time; and a jar of honey from that place was one of the four presents sent by John Mekaukes, the governor of Egypt, to Mohammed.

Large gardens were usually divided into different parts; the principal sections being appropriated to the date and sycamore trees, and to the vineyard. The former may be called the orchard. The flower and kitchen gardens also occupied a considerable space, laid out in beds; and dwarf trees, herbs, and flowers, were grown in red earthen pots, exactly like our own, arranged in long rows by the walks and borders.

Besides the orchard and gardens, some of the large villas had a park or paradise, with its fish-ponds and preserves for game, as well as poultry-yards for keeping hens and geese, stalls for fattening cattle, wild goats, gazelles, and other animals originally from the desert, whose meat was reckoned among the dainties of the table.

It was in these extensive preserves that the rich amused themselves with the chase; and they also enclosed a considerable space in the desert itself with net-fences, into which the animals were driven, and shot with arrows, or hunted with dogs.

Gardens are frequently represented in the tombs of Thebes and other parts of Egypt, many of which are remarkable for their extent. The one here introduced is shown to have been surrounded by an embattled wall, with a canal of water passing in front of it, connected with the river. Between the canal and the wall, and parallel to them both, was a shady avenue of various trees; and about the centre was the entrance, through a lofty door, whose lintel and jambs were decorated with hieroglyphic inscriptions, containing the name of the owner of the grounds, who in this instance was the king himself. In the gateway were rooms for the porter, and other persons employed about the [270]garden, and, probably, the receiving room for visitors, whose abrupt admission might be unwelcome; and at the back a gate opened into the vineyard. The vines were trained on a trellis-work, supported by transverse rafters resting on pillars; and a wall, extending round it, separated this part from the rest of the garden. At the upper end were suites of rooms on three different stories, looking upon green trees, and affording a pleasant retreat in the heat of summer. On the outside of the vineyard wall were placed rows of palms, which occurred again with the dom and other trees, along the whole length of the exterior wall; four tanks of water, bordered by a grass plot, where geese were kept, and the delicate flower of the lotus was encouraged to grow, served for the irrigation of the grounds; and small kiosks or summer-houses, shaded with trees, stood near the water, and overlooked beds of flowers. The spaces containing the tanks, and the adjoining portions of the garden, were each enclosed by their respective walls, and a small subdivision on either side, between the large and small tanks, seems to have been reserved for the growth of particular trees, which either required peculiar care, or bore a fruit of superior quality.

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[271]

Egyptian Wealth.

That the riches of the country were immense is proved by the appearance of the furniture and domestic utensils, and by the great quantity of jewels of gold and silver, precious stones, and other objects of luxury in use among them in the earliest times; their treasures became proverbial throughout the neighboring states, and a love of pomp and splendor continued to be the ruling passion of the Egyptians till the latest period of their existence as an independent state.

The wealth of Egypt was principally derived from taxes, foreign tribute, monopolies, commerce, mines, and above all from the productions of a fruitful soil. The wants of the poorer classes were easily satisfied; the abundance of grain, herbs and esculent plants, afforded an ample supply to the inhabitants of the valley of the Nile, at a trifling expense, and with little labor; and so much corn was produced in this fertile country, that after sufficing for the consumption of a very extensive population, it offered a great surplus for the foreign market; and afforded considerable profit to the government, being exported to other countries, or sold to the traders who visited Egypt for commercial purposes.

The gold mines of the Bisharee desert were in those times very productive; and, though we have no positive notice of their first discovery, there is reason to believe they were worked at the earliest periods of the Egyptian monarchy. The total of the [272]annual produce of the gold and silver mines (which Diodorus, on the authority of Hecatæus, says, was recorded in the tomb of Osymandyas at Thebes, apparently a king of the 19th dynasty) is stated to have been 3,200 myriads, or 32 millions of minæ—a weight of that country, called by the Egyptians mn or mna, 60 of which were equal to one talent. The whole sum amounted to 665 millions of our money; but it was evidently exaggerated.

The position of the silver mines is unknown; but the gold mines of Allaga, and other quartz "diggings," have been discovered, as well as those of copper, lead, iron and emeralds, all of which are in the desert near the Red Sea; and the sulphur, which abounds in the same districts, was not neglected by the ancient Egyptians.

The abundance of gold and silver in Egypt and other ancient countries, and the sums reported to have been spent, accord well with the reputed productiveness of the mines in those days; and, as the subject has become one of peculiar interest, it may be well to inquire respecting the quantity and the use of the precious metals in ancient times. They were then mostly confined to the treasures of princes, and of some rich individuals; the proportion employed for commercial purposes was small, copper sufficing for most purchases in the home market; and nearly all the gold and silver money (as yet uncoined) was in the hands of the wealthy few. The manufacture of jewelry, and other ornamental objects took up a small portion of the great mass; but it required the wealth and privilege of royalty to indulge in a grand display of gold and silver vases, or similar objects of size and value.

The mines of those days, from which was derived the wealth of Egypt, Lydia, Persia, and other countries, afforded a large supply of the precious metals; and if most of them are now exhausted or barely retain evidences of the treasures they once gave forth, there can be no doubt of their former productiveness; and it is reasonable to suppose that gold and silver abounded in [273]early times in those parts of the world which were first inhabited, as they did in countries more recently peopled. They may never have afforded at any period the immense riches of a California or an Australia, yet there is evidence of their having been sufficiently distributed over various parts of the old world.

For though Herodotus (iii., 106) says that the extremities of the earth possess the greatest treasures; these extremities may approach or become the centre, i.e., of civilization, when they arrive at that eminence which all great countries in their turn seem to have a chance of reaching; and Britain, the country of the greatly coveted tin, once looked upon as separated from the rest of mankind, is now one of the commercial centres of the world. The day, too, has come when Australia and California are rivals for a similar distinction; and England, the rendezvous of America in her contests with Europe, has yielded its turn to younger competitors.

The greatest quantity of gold and silver in early times was derived from the East; and Asia and Egypt possessed abundance of those metals. The trade of Colchis, and the treasures of the Arimaspes and Massagetæ, coming from the Ural (or from the Altai) mountains, supplied much gold at a very early period, and Indian commerce sent a large supply to western Asia. Spain, the Isle of Thasos, and other places, were resorted to by the Phœnicians, particularly for silver; and Spain, for its mines, became the "El Dorado" of those adventurous traders.

The mines of the Eastern desert, the tributes from Ethiopia and Central Africa, as well as from Asia, enriched Egypt with gold and silver; but it was long before Greece (where in heroic times the precious metals were scarcely known) obtained a moderate supply of silver from her own mines; and gold only became abundant there after the Persian war.

Thrace and Macedonia produced gold, as well as other countries, but confined it to their own use, as Ireland employed the [274]produce of its mines; and as early Italy did, when its various small states were still free from the Roman yoke; and though the localities from which silver was obtained in more ancient times are less known, it is certain that it was used at a very remote period; and (as before stated) it was commonly employed in Abraham's time for mercantile transactions.

Gold is mentioned on the Egyptian monuments of the 4th dynasty, and silver was probably of the same early time; but gold was evidently known in Egypt before silver, which is consistent with reason, gold being more easily obtained than silver, and frequently near the surface or in streams.

The relative value and quantity of the precious metals in the earliest times, in Egypt and Western Asia, are not known; and even if a greater amount of gold were found mentioned in a tribute, this could be no proof of the silver being more rare, as it might merely be intended to show the richness of the gifts. In the tribute brought to Thothmes III. by the Southern Ethiopians and three Asiatic people, the former present scarcely any silver, but great quantities of gold in rings, ingots, and dust. The Asiatic people of Pount bring two baskets of gold rings, and one of gold dust in bags, a much smaller amount of gold than the Ethiopians, and no silver; those of Kufa, or Kaf, more silver than gold, and a considerable quantity of both made into vases of handsome and varied shapes; and the Rot-n̄-n (apparently living on the Euphrates) present rather more gold than silver, a large basket of gold and a smaller one of silver rings, two small silver and several large gold vases, which are of the most elegant shape, as well as colored glass or porcelain cups, and much incense and bitumen. The great Asiatic tribute to the same king at Karnak, speaks in one place of 100 ingots (or pounds weight?) of gold and silver, and afterwards of 401 of silver; but the imperfect preservation of that record prevents our ascertaining how much gold was brought, or the relative proportions of the two metals.

[275]M. Leon Faucher, indeed, suggested that the value of silver in some countries originally equaled, if it did not exceed, that of gold ... and the laws of Menes state that gold was worth two and a half times more than silver.... Everywhere, except in India, between the fifth and sixth century B.C., the relative value of gold and silver was 6 or 8 to 1, as it was in China and Japan at the end of the last century. In Greece it was, according to Herodotus, as 13 to 1; afterwards, in Plato's and Xenophon's time, and more than 100 years after the death of Alexander, as 10 to 1, owing to the quantity of gold brought in through the Persian war; when the value of both fell so much, that in the time of Demosthenes it was five times less than at the death of Solon.

Though it may not be possible to arrive at any satisfactory conclusion respecting the quantity of gold and silver taken from the mines, employed in objects of art and luxury, or in circulation as money in Egypt and other countries, we shall introduce a few facts derived from the accounts of ancient authors, relating to the amount of wealth amassed, and the purposes to which those precious metals were applied. We shall also show some of the fluctuations that have taken place in the supply of them at various periods; and shall endeavor to establish a comparison between the quantity said to have been in use in ancient and modern times.

When we read of the enormous wealth amassed by the Egyptian and Asiatic kings, or the plunder by Alexander and the Romans, we wonder how so much could have been obtained; for, even allowing for considerable exaggeration in the accounts of early times, there is no reason to disbelieve the private fortunes of individuals at Rome, and the sums squandered by them, or even the amount of some of the tributes levied in the East. Of ancient cities, Babylon is particularly cited by Herodotus and others for its immense wealth. Diodorus (ii. 9) mentions a golden [276]statue of Jupiter at Babylon 40 feet high, weighing 1,000 Babylonian talents; another of Rhea, of equal weight, having two lions on its knees, and near it silver serpents of 300 talents each; a standing statue of Juno weighing 800 talents, holding a snake, and a sceptre set with gems; as well as a golden table of 500 talents weight on which were two cups weighing 300 talents, and two censers each of 300 talents weight, with three golden bowls, one of which, belonging to Jupiter, weighed 1,200 talents, the others each 600; making a total of at least 6,900 talents, reckoned equal to $55,000,000. And the golden image of Nebuchadnezzar, 60 cubits, or 90 feet high, at the same ratio would weigh 2,250 talents, or $17,934,820.

David, who had not the Indian and Arabian trade afterwards obtained by Solomon, left for the building of the temple 100,000 talents of gold and 1,000,000 of silver; and the sum given by him of his "own proper good," "over and above all prepared for the holy house," was "3,000 talents of gold" and "7,000 of refined silver;" besides the chief men's contributions of 500 talents and 10,000 drachms of gold, 10,000 talents of silver, and an abundance of brass, iron, and precious stones.

The annual tribute of Solomon was 666 talents of gold, besides that brought by the merchants, and the present from the Queen of Sheba of 120 talents; and the quantity of gold and silver used in the temple and his house was extraordinary. Mr. Jacob, in his valuable work on the precious metals, has noticed many of these immense sums, collected in old times. Among them are the tribute of Darius, amounting to 9,880 talents of silver and 4,680 of gold, making a total of 14,560, estimated at about $37,250,000; the sums taken by Xerxes to Greece; the wealth of Crœsus; the riches of Pytheus, king of a small territory in Phrygia, possessing gold and silver mines, who entertained the army of Xerxes, and gave him 2,000 talents of silver and 4,093,000 staters of gold (equal to 23,850,000 dollars of our money); [277]the treasures acquired by Alexander, in Susa and Persia, exclusive of that found in the Persian camp and in Babylon, said to have amounted to 40,000 or 50,000 talents; the treasure of Persepolis rated at 120,000 talents; that of Pasagarda at 6,000; and the 180,000 talents collected at the capture of Ecbatana; besides 6,000 which Darius had with him, and were taken by his murderers. "Ptolemy Philadelphus is stated by Appian to have possessed treasure to the enormous amount of 740,000 talents;" either "890 million dollars, or at least a quarter of that sum;" and fortunes of private individuals at Rome show the enormous wealth they possessed. "Crassus had in lands $8,072,915, besides as much more in money, furniture, and slaves; Seneca, $12,109,375; Pallas, the freedman of Claudius, an equal sum; Lentulus, the augur, $16,145,805; Cæc. Cl. Isidorus, though he had lost a great part of his fortune in the civil war, left by his will 4,116 slaves, 3,600 yoke of oxen, 257,000 other cattle, and in ready money $2,421,875. Augustus received by the testaments of his friends $161,458,330. Tiberius left at his death $108,984,375, which Caligula lavished away in less than one year; and Vespasian, at his succession, said that to support the state he required quadrigenties millies, or $1,614,083,330. The debts of Milo amounted to $2,825,520. J. Cæsar, before he held any office, owed 1,300 talents, $1,279,375; and when he set out for Spain after his prætorship, he is reported to have said, that 'Bis millies et quingenties sibi deesse, ut nihil haberet,' or 'that he was $10,091,145 worse than nothing.' When he first entered Rome, in the beginning of the civil war, he took out of the treasury $5,479,895, and brought into it at the end of it $24,218,750; he purchased the friendship of Curio, at the commencement of the civil war, by a bribe of $2,421,856, and that of the consul, L. Paulus, by 1,500 talents, about $1,397,500; Apicius wasted on luxurious living $2,421,875; Caligula laid out on a supper $403,625; and the ordinary expense of Lucullus for a supper in [278]the Hall of Apollo was 50,000 drachms, or $8,070. The house of Marius, bought of Cornelia for $12,105, was sold to Lucullus for $80,760; the burning of his villa was a loss to M. Scaurus of $4,036,455; and Nero's golden house must have cost an immense sum, since Otho laid out in furnishing a part of it $2,017,225." But though Rome was greatly enriched by conquest, she never obtained possession of the chief wealth of Asia; and the largest quantity of the precious metals was always excluded from the calculations of ancient writers.

The whole revenue of the Roman Empire under Augustus is "supposed to have been equal to 200 millions of our money;" and at the time of his death (A.D. 14) the gold and silver in circulation throughout the empire is supposed to have amounted to $1,790,000,000; which at a reduction of 1 grain in 360 every year for wear, would have been reduced by the year A.D. 482 to $435,165,495; and when the mines of Hungary and Germany began to be worked, during the seventh and ninth centuries, the entire amount of coined money was not more than about 42 at the former, and 165 or 170 million dollars at the latter, period; so that if no other supply had been obtained, the quantity then circulating would long since have been exhausted.

"The loss by wear on silver" is shown by Mr. Jacob "to be four times that of gold;" that on our money is estimated at more than one part in a hundred annually; and "the smaller the pieces, the greater loss do they suffer by abrasion." "The maximum of durability of gold coins seems to be fixed at 22 parts, in 24, of pure gold with the appropriate alloys. When the fineness ascends or descends from that point, the consumption by abrasion is increased."

It is from its ductility that gold wears so much less than silver; and many ancient gold coins (as those of Alexander and others), though evidently worn by use, nearly retain their true weight, from the surface being partly transferred into the adjacent hollows, and not entirely rubbed off as in silver.

[279]The quantity of the precious metals, formerly used for the purposes of luxury, greatly diminished after the decline of the Roman empire, and in the middle ages they were sparingly employed except for coinage; ornamental work in gold and silver, mostly executed by first-rate artists, being confined to men of rank, till the opening of new mines added to the supply; which was afterwards increased by the abundant treasures of America; and the quantity applied to ornamental purposes then began to vie with that of olden times.

M. Leon Faucher even calculates the annual abstraction of the precious metals from circulation by use for luxury, disasters at sea, and export, at 25 million dollars, in Europe and the United States.

The silver from the American mines exported to Europe in 100 years, to 1630, gave an addition to the currency of 5 million dollars annually, besides that used for other purposes, or re-exported; and from 1630 to 1830 from 7½ to 10 millions annually; an increase in the quantity used for currency having taken place, as well as in that exported to India, and employed for purposes of luxury.

Humboldt states the whole quantity of gold from the American mines, up to 1803, to be 162 millions of pounds in weight, and of silver 7,178 millions, or 44 of silver to 1 of gold.

Again, the total value of gold produced during three centuries to 1848, including that from Russia, has been estimated at $2,825,000,000; and the total annual quantity of gold, before the discovery of the Californian fields, has been reckoned at about $50,000,000. That from California and Australia already amounts yearly to $170,000,000 (or 3 2/5 times as much as previously obtained), and is still increasing; but though far beyond the supply afforded by the discovery of America, the demand made upon it by the modern industry of man, together with the effect of rapid communication, and of the extension of trade, as well as by [280]the great deficiency of gold in the world, will prevent its action being felt in the same way as when the American supply was first obtained; and still less will be the effect now, than it would have been in ancient times, if so large and sudden a discovery had then been made. For, as Chevalier says, "Vast as is the whole amount of gold in the world, it sinks into insignificance when contrasted with the aggregate product of other branches of human industry. If they increase as fast as the gold, little or no alteration will take place in its value; which depends on the relation between it and the annual production of other wealth."

According to another calculation, all the gold now in the world is supposed to be equal to about $3,410,000,000; but the whole amount of either of the two precious metals in old times is not easily ascertained, nor can any definite comparison be established between their former and present value. And still less in Egypt, than in Greece and Rome, no standard of calculation being obtainable from the prices of commodities there, or from any other means of determining, the value of gold and silver.

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FOOTNOTES:

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[281]

DOMESTIC UTENSILS.ToC

The immense number and variety of statues, lamps, urns, articles of domestic use, in metal or earthenware, etc., discovered at Herculaneum and Pompeii, have rendered the Museum at Naples an inexhaustible treasury of information relative to the private life of the ancients. To give an adequate description of the richness and variety of its contents would far exceed the whole extent of this work, much more the small space which it can have; but that space can not be better occupied than in describing some few articles which possess an interest from the ingenuity of their construction, the beauty of their workmanship, or their power to illustrate ancient usages or ancient authors.

Writing implements are among the most important of the latter class, on account of the constant mention of them, as well as of the influence which the comparative ease or difficulty of producing copies of writing is always found to exert over society. On this head there is no want of information. The implements used are frequently mentioned, especially in familiar writings, as the letters of Cicero, and their forms have been tolerably ascertained from various fragments of ancient paintings.

It is hardly necessary to state that for manuscripts of any length, and such as were meant to be preserved, parchment or vellum, and a vegetable tissue manufactured from the rush [282]papyrus, were in use. The stalk of this plant consists of a number of thin concentric coats, which, being carefully detached, were pasted crossways one over the other, like the warp and woof in woven manufactures, so that the fibres ran longitudinally in each direction, and opposed in each an equal resistance to violence. The surface was then polished with a shell, or some hard smooth substance. The ink used was a simple black liquid, containing no mordant to give it durability, so that the writing was easily effaced by the application of a sponge. The length of the Greek papyri is said to vary from eight to twelve inches; the Latin often reach sixteen; the writing is in columns, placed at right angles to the length of the roll.

To each of them is appended a sort of ticket, which served as a title. Hence the end of the roll, or volume, was called frons, a term of frequent recurrence in Ovid and Martial, and not always rightly understood. Hence, also, when we meet with the expression, gemina frons, we must understand that the volume had a ticket at each end. These books were also composed of two tables or pages, and served for memoranda, letters, and other writings, not intended to be preserved. They were composed of leaves of wood or metal coated over with wax, upon which the ancients wrote with a stylus, or iron pen, or point rather, for it was a solid sharp-pointed instrument, some 6 to 8 inches in length, like a lady's stiletto upon a large scale. In the middle of each leaf there appears to have been a button, called umbilicus, intended to prevent the pages touching when closed, and obliterating the letters traced on the yielding wax.

The tablets here represented would be called twofold, as consisting only of two leaves; in the following cut may be seen another sort, consisting of several leaves, united at the back with hinges or rings. In Latin they were called tabulæ, or tabellæ, and the epithets, duplices, triplices, quintuplices, served to mark the number of the leaves.

[283]Beside them stands a double inkstand, intended probably to contain both black and red ink. The former was made either of lampblack or some other sort of charcoal, or from the cuttlefish, and was called atramentum. As it contained no mordant, and was readily obliterated by moisture, it could be used for writing upon ivory tablets; and it has been conjectured that some sorts of paper were covered with a wash, or varnish, to facilitate the discharge of the old writing, and render the paper serviceable a second time. Red ink was prepared from cinnabar. The reed, cut to a point, which lies beside the inkstand, is the instrument used in writing with ink before the application of quills. It was called calamus. The open papyrus explains how manuscripts were read, rolled up at each end, so as to show only the column of writing upon which the student was intent. At the other side is a purse, or bag, to hold the reed, penknife, and other writing instruments.

The next cut represents, besides a set of tablets bound up, a single one hanging from a nail. Such, probably, were those suspended at Epidaurus, containing remedies by which the sick had been cured, by the perusal of which Hippocrates is said to have profited in the compilation of his medical works. It also contains, besides a papyrus similar to those described, a hexagonal inkstand, with a ring to pass the finger through, upon which there lies an instrument resembling a reed, but the absence of the knots, or joints, marks it to be a stylus. Another of these instruments leans against the open book.

[284]These were made of every sort of material; sometimes with the precious metals, but usually of iron, and on occasion might be turned into formidable weapons. It was with his stylus that Cæsar stabbed Casca in the arm, when attacked in the senate by his murderers; and Caligula employed some person to put to death a senator with the same instruments.

In the reign of Claudius women and boys were searched to ascertain whether there were styluses in their pen-cases. Stabbing with the pen, therefore, is not merely a metaphorical expression. Tablets such as those here represented, were the day-books, or account-books. When they were full, or when the writing on them was no longer useful, the wax was smoothed, and they were ready again for other service.

The cut above, besides an inkstand, represents an open book. The thinness and yellowish color of the leaves, which are tied together with ribbon, denotes that it was made of parchment or vellum.

Below is a cylindrical box, called scrinium and capsa, or capsula, in which the manuscripts were placed vertically, the titles at the top. Catullus excuses himself to Manlius for not having sent him the required verses, because he had with him only one box of his books. It is evident that a great number of volumes might be comprised in this way within a small space; and this may tend to explain the smallness of the ancient libraries—at least of the rooms which [285]are considered to have been such. Beside the box are two tablets, which, from the money-bag and coins scattered about, had probably been used in reckoning accounts.

No perfect papyri, but only fragments, have been found at Pompeii. At Herculaneum, up to the year 1825, 1,756 had been obtained, besides many others destroyed by the workmen, who imagined them to be mere sticks of charcoal. Most of them were found in a suburban villa, in a room of small dimensions, ranged in presses round the sides of the room, in the centre of which stood a sort of rectangular book-case.

Sir Humphry Davy, after investigating their chemical nature, arrived at the conclusion that they had not been carbonized by heat, but changed by the long action of air and moisture; and he visited Naples in hopes of rendering the resources of chemistry available towards deciphering these long-lost literary treasures. His expectations, however, were not fully crowned with success, although the partial efficacy of his methods was established; and he relinquished the pursuit at the end of six months, partly from disappointment, partly from a belief that vexatious obstacles were thrown in his way by the jealousy of the persons to whom the task of unrolling had been intrusted. About five hundred volumes have been well and neatly unrolled. It is rather remarkable that, as far as we are acquainted, no manuscript of any known standard work has been found, nor, indeed, any production of any of the great luminaries of the ancient world.

The most celebrated person, of whom any work has been found, is Epicurus, whose treatise, De Natura, has been successfully unrolled. This and a few other treatises have been published. The library in which this was found appears to have been rich in treatises on the Epicurean philosophy. The only Latin work which it contained was a poem, attributed to Rabirius, on the war of Cæsar and Antony.

A curious literary monument has been found in the shape [286]of a calendar. It is cut on a square block of marble, upon each side of which three months are registered in perpendicular columns, each headed by the proper sign of the zodiac. The information given may be classed under three heads, astronomical, agricultural, and religious. The first begins with the name of the month; then follows the number of days; then the nones, which in eight months of the year fall on the fifth day, and were thence called quintanæ—in the others on the seventh, and were, therefore, called septimanæ. The ides are not mentioned, because seven days always elapsed between them and the nones. The number of hours in the day and night is also given, the integral part being given by the usual numerals, the fractional by an S for semissis, the half, and by small horizontal lines for the quarters. Lastly, the sign of the zodiac in which the sun is to be found is named, and the days of the equinoxes and of the summer solstice are determined; for the winter solstice we read, Hiemis initium, the beginning of winter. Next the calendar proceeds to the agricultural portion, in which the farmer is reminded of the principal operations which are to be done within the month. It concludes with the religious part, in which, besides indicating the god under whose guardianship the month is placed, it notes the religious festivals which fall within it, and warns the cultivator against neglecting the worship of those deities upon whose favor and protection the success of his labors is supposed mainly to depend.

No articles of ancient manufacture are more common than lamps. They are found in every variety of form and size, in clay and in metal, from the cheapest to the most costly description. A large and handsome gold lamp found at Pompeii in 1863 may be seen in the Pompeian room at the museum in Naples. We have the testimony of the celebrated antiquary, Winkleman, to the interest of this subject. "I place among the most curious utensils found at Herculaneum, the lamps, in which the ancients sought to display elegance and even magnificence. Lamps of [287]every sort will be found in the museum at Portici, both in clay and bronze, but especially the latter; and as the ornaments of the ancients have generally some reference to some particular things, we often meet with rather remarkable subjects. A considerable number of these articles will be found in the British Museum, but they are chiefly of the commoner sort. All the works, however, descriptive of Herculaneum and Pompeii, present us with specimens of the richer and more remarkable class which attract admiration both by the beauty of the workmanship and the whimsical variety of their designs. We may enumerate a few which occur in a work now before us, 'Antiquites d'Herculanum,' in which we find a Silenus, with the usual peculiarities of figure ascribed to the jolly god rather exaggerated, and an owl sitting on his head between two huge horns, which support stands for lamps. Another represents a flower-stalk growing out of a circular plinth, with snail-shells hanging from it by small chains, which held the oil and wick; the trunk of a tree, with lamps suspended from the branches; another, a naked boy, beautifully wrought, with a lamp hanging from one hand, and an instrument for trimming it from the other, the lamp itself representing a theatrical mask. Beside him is a twisted column surmounted by the head of a Faun or Bacchanal, which has a lid in its crown, and seems intended as a reservoir of oil. The boy [288]and pillar are both placed on a square plateau raised upon lions' claws. But beautiful as these lamps are, the light which they gave must have been weak and unsteady, and little superior to that of the old-fashioned common lamps, with which they are identical in principle. The wick was merely a few twisted threads drawn through a hole in the upper surface of the oil vessel, and there was no glass to steady the light and prevent its varying with every breeze that blew.

"Still, though the Romans had not advanced so far in art as to apply glass chimneys and hollow circular wicks to their lamps, they had experienced the inconvenience of going home at night through a city poorly paved, watched and lighted, and accordingly soon invented lanterns to meet the want. These, we learn from Martial, who has several epigrams upon this subject, were made of horn or bladder: no mention, we believe, occurs of glass being thus employed. The rich were preceded by a slave bearing their lantern. This Cicero mentions as being the habit of Catiline upon his midnight expeditions; and when M. Antony was accused of a disgraceful intrigue, his lantern-bearer was tortured to extort a confession whither he had conducted his master. One of these machines, of considerable ingenuity and beauty of workmanship, was found in Herculaneum, and another almost exactly the same, at Pompeii a few years after. In form it is cylindrical, with a hemispherical top, and it is made of sheet-copper, except the two main pieces, which are cast. The bottom consists of a flat, circular copper plate, supported by three balls, and turned up all around the rim, from which rise the rectangular supports, which support the upper part of the frame. The top and bottom were further connected by the interior uprights, between which the laminæ of horn or glass were placed, and secured at the top and bottom by the doublings of the copper. Horn was the most common substance used to transmit the light, but bladder and other membranes were also employed. In the centre [289]of the lantern is seen the small lamp. The cover is hemispherical, and lifts up and down: it is pierced with holes for the admission of air, and has besides the characters NBVRTI-CATIS pricked upon it. These have been interpreted, Tiburti Cati Sum, or Tiburti Cati S. (ervus), indicating, the one that it belonged to Catus, or that it was to be carried by his slave."

One of the most elegant articles of furniture in ancient use was the candelabrum, by which we mean those tall and slender stands which served to support a lamp, but were independent of, and unconnected with, it. These, in their original and simple form, were mere reeds or straight sticks, fixed upon a foot by peasants to raise their light to a convenient height; at least such a theory of their origin is agreeable to what we are told of the rustic manners of the early Romans, and it is in some degree countenanced by the fashion in which many of the ancient candelabra are made. Sometimes the stem is represented as throwing out buds; sometimes it is a stick, the side branches of which have been roughly lopped, leaving projections where they grew; sometimes it is in the likeness of a reed or cane, the stalk being divided into joints. Most of those which have been found in the buried cities are of bronze, some few of iron. In their general plan and appearance there is a great resemblance, though [290]the details of the ornaments admit of infinite variety. All stand on three feet, usually griffins' or lions' claws, which support a light shaft, plain or fluted according to the fancy of the maker. The whole supports either a plinth large enough for a lamp to stand on, or a socket to receive a wax candle, which the Romans used sometimes instead of oil in lighting their rooms. Some of them have a sliding shaft, like that of a music stand, by which the light might be raised or lowered at pleasure.

One of those elegant table lamps, by the praise of which the present discussion was introduced, is represented in the accompanying plate. Including the stand it is three feet high. On a rectangular plinth rises a rectangular pillar, crowned by a capricious capital. On the front of the pillar is a mask of a Bacchante, with fine features and long flowing hair; and on the opposite side, the head of a bull, with the Greek word Bucranion. From the extreme points of the abacus, four ornamental branches, beautifully chased, project; the lamps which now hang from them, though ancient, also, are not those which belong to the stand, and were not found with it. They are nearly alike in figure, but differ in size. Three of them are ornamented with various animals, the fourth is plain. One of them has each of its ends wrought into the form of a shell. Above are two eagles in high relief, with the thunderbolt of [291]Jupiter in their talons. Another has two bulls' heads, a third two elephants' heads projecting from the sides. The latter is suspended by two dolphins, instead of the chains generally in use, whose tails are united, and attached to a small ball and ring. The pillar is not placed in the center, but at one end of the plinth, which is the case in almost every lamp of this description yet found. The space thus obtained may have served as a stand for the oil vase used in trimming the lamps. The plinth is beautifully damasked, or inlaid, in imitation of a vine, the leaves of which are of silver, the stem and fruit of bright brass. On one side is an altar with wood and fire upon it; on the other a Bacchus, naked, with his thick hair plaited and bound with ivy. He rides a tiger, and has his left hand in the attitude of holding reins, which time probably has destroyed; with the right he raises a drinking-horn. The workmanship of this lamp is exquisitely delicate in all its parts.

Before we quit this subject we have still one candelabrum to notice, which for simplicity of design and delicacy of execution is hardly to be surpassed by any in the Neapolitan collection. The stem is formed of a liliaceous plant, divided into two branches, each of which supports a flat disc, which may represent the flower, upon which a lamp was placed. At the base is a mass of bronze which gives stability to the whole, upon which a Silenus is seated, earnestly engaged in trying to pour wine from a skin which he holds in his left hand into a cup in his right. In this figure all the distinctive marks of the companion and tutor of Bacchus are expressed with great skill; the pointed ears, the goat's tail, the shaggy skin, the flat nose, and the ample rotundity of body, leave no doubt on our minds as to the person intended to be represented. The head, especially, is admirable, both in respect of workmanship and expression.

Amongst Greek domestic utensils we also count articles made of basket-work, which frequently occur in antique pictures. The [292]kalathos, the basket for keeping wool (used for weaving and embroidering), and also flowers and fruit, is frequently met with in vase paintings illustrating the life of Greek women. As early as Homer's time baskets, probably round or oval, were used at meals, to keep bread and pastry in. They had a low rim and handles. The kaneon was also used at offerings, where it is filled with pomegranates, holly boughs and ribbons. At the Panathenaia noble Athenian maidens carried such baskets, filled with holy cakes, incense, and knives on their heads. These graceful figures were a favorite subject of antique sculpture. Both Polyklete and Skopas had done a celebrated kanephore—the former in bronze, the latter in marble. There was also a flat basket, chiefly used for carrying fish, similar to that used at the present day by fishermen in the south. Other baskets used by peasants appear frequently in antique pictures, in the original carried by a peasant on a stick over his shoulder, together with another basket of the same pear-like shape, taken from a bas-relief representing a vintage, in which the former appears filled with grapes, while the latter is being filled with must by a boy. This proves, at the same time, the knowledge amongst the Greeks of the art of making the basket-work dense enough to hold fluids. The same fact is shown by a passage in Homer, in which Polyphemos lets the milk coagulate to cheese in baskets, which cheese was afterwards placed on a hurdle through which the whey trickled slowly. Of plaited rushes, or twigs, consisted also a peculiar kind of net, a specimen of which is seen on the reverse of a medal coined under the Emperor Macrinus, as the emblem of the maritime city of Byzantium.

To light and heat the room, in Homer's time, fire-baskets, or fire-basins were used, standing on high poles, and fed with dry logs of wood or splinters. The cinders were, at intervals, removed by serving-maids, and the flames replenished. Such fire-baskets on poles are still used by night-travelers in Southern [293]Russia, and at nightly ceremonies in India. The use of pine-torches is of equal antiquity. They consisted of long, thin sticks of pine-wood, tied together with bark, rushes or papyrus. The bark of the vine was also used for torches, called lophis. The golden statues on pedestals, in the hall of Alkinoos, undoubtedly held such torches in their hands. In vase paintings we also see a different form of the torch, carried chiefly by Demeter and Persephone, which consists of two pieces of wood fastened crosswise to a staff. An imitation of this wooden torch was undoubtedly the torch-case made of clay or metal in the shape of a salpinx. Its surface was either smooth or formed in imitation of the bundles of sticks and the bark of the wooden torch, the inside being filled with resinous substances.

The date of oil-lamps in Greece can not be stated with accuracy; they were known at the time of Aristophanes. They were made of terra-cotta or metal, and their construction resembles those used by the Romans. They are mostly closed semi-globes with two openings, one, in the centre, to pour the oil in, the other in the nose-shaped prolongation destined to receive the wick. Amongst the small numbers of Greek lamps preserved to us we have chosen a few of the most graceful specimens, one of them showing the ordinary form of the lamp. Some are made [294]of clay, the latter being painted in various colors. The Athenians also used lanterns made of transparent horn, and lit up with oil-lamps. They were carried at night in the streets like the torches. Sparks, carefully preserved under the ashes, served both Greeks and Romans to light the fire. The ancients had, however, a lighting apparatus consisting of two pieces of wood, of which the one was driven into the other, like a gimlet, the friction effecting a flame. According to Theophrast, the wood of nut or chestnut trees was generally used for the purpose.

The street running from the Temple of Fortune to the Forum, called the Street of the Forum, in Pompeii, and forming a continuation of that of Mercury, has furnished an unusually rich harvest of various utensils. A long list of these is given by Sir W. Gell, according to which there were found no less than two hundred and fifty small bottles of inferior glass, with numerous other articles of the same material, which it would be tedious to particularize.

A marble statue of a laughing faun, two bronze figures of Mercury, the one three inches and the other four inches high, and a statue of a female nine inches high, were also found, together with many bronze lamps and stands. We may add vases, basins with handles, pateræ, bells, elastic springs, hinges, buckles for harness, a lock, an inkstand, and a strigil; gold ear-rings and a silver spoon; an oval cauldron, a saucepan, a mould for pastry, and a weight of alabaster used in spinning, with its ivory axis remaining. The catalogue finishes with a leaden weight, forty-nine lamps of common clay ornamented with masks and animals, forty-five lamps for two wicks, three boxes with a slit to keep money in, in one of which were found thirteen coins of Titus, Vespasian, and Domitian. Among the most curious things discovered, were seven glazed plates found packed in straw. There were also seventeen unvarnished vases of terra-cotta and seven [295]clay dishes, and a large pestle and mortar. The scales and steelyard which we have given are said to have been found at the same time. On the beam of the steelyard are Roman numerals from X. to XXXX.; a V was placed for division between each X.; smaller divisions are also marked. The inscription is

IMP. VESP. AVG. IIX.
T. IMP. AVG. F. VI. C.
EXACTA. IN. CAPITO.

which is translated thus: "In the eighth consulate of Vespasian Emperor Augustus, and in the sixth of Titus, Emperor and son of Augustus. Proved in the Capitol." This shows the great care taken to enforce a strict uniformity in the weights and measures used throughout the empire; the date corresponds with the year 77 of our era, only two years previous to the great eruption. The steelyard found was also furnished with chains and hooks, and with numbers up to XXX. Another pair of scales had two cups, with a weight on the side opposite to the material weighed, to mark more accurately the fractional weight; this weight was called by the ancients ligula, and examen.

Gell tells us that the skeleton of a Pompeian was found here, "who apparently, for the sake of sixty coins, a small plate and a saucepan of silver, had remained in his house till the street was already half filled with volcanic matter." He was found as if in the act of escaping from his window. Two others were found in the same street.

The shops in the street on the north side of the Temple of Augustus most probably supplied those who feasted with dainties; and it has been called the Street of Dried Fruits, from the quantity of raisins, figs, plums, and chestnuts, fruit of several sorts preserved in vases of glass, hempseed, and lentils. It is now, [296]however, more generally known as the Street of the Augustals. Scales, money, moulds for pastry and bread, were discovered in the shops; and a bronze statue of Fame, small, and delicately executed, having golden bracelets round the arms.

In the northern entrance to the building the name CELSVM was written on a pilaster; near it was found in a box a gold ring with an engraved stone set in it, forty-one silver, and a thousand and thirty-six brass coins.

The next group of vessels, though nearly destitute of ornament, and probably of a very ordinary class, will serve to give us some idea of the cooking vessels of the Romans. One of the most celebrated vases in the Neapolitan collection was found with a bronze simpulum in it; and upon the vase itself there was a sacrificial painting, representing a priest in the act of pouring out a libation from a vase with the simpulum.

Pottery in ancient times was usually much more ornamental than at present, although it was often the case that their ornaments were rather an inconvenience, and would simply encumber the vessels; in our practical age more importance is placed in the convenience and utility than in beauty. Even their common vessels are not without a certain degree of elegance, both in form and workmanship.

Great numbers of clay vases have been found, of which the following is a very beautiful specimen. The lip and base have the favorite ovolo moulding; the body has two rows of fluting separated by a transverse band, charged with leaves, and with a swan in the centre. The neck of the vase is painted, and the same subject is given on each [297]side. It represents a chariot, drawn by four animals at full gallop, which appear to be intermediate between tigers and panthers. A winged genius directs them with his left hand, while with his right he goads them with a javelin.

Another winged figure preceding the quadriga, with a thyrsus in his left hand, is in the act of seizing the bridle of one of the animals. The whole is painted in white on a black ground, except some few of the details, which are yellow, and the car and mantle of the genius, which are red. The handles represent knotted cords, or flexible branches interlaced, which terminate in the heads of animals. This vase is much cracked, probably in consequence of the violence of the fire.

Some drinking vessels of peculiar construction have been found, which merit a particular description. These were in the shape of a horn, the primitive drinking-vessel, and had commonly a hole at the point, to be closed with the finger, until the drinker, raising it above his mouth, suffered the liquor to flow in a stream from the orifice.

This method of drinking, which is still practiced in some parts of the Mediterranean, must require great skill in order to hit the mark exactly. Sometimes the hole at the tip was closed, and one or two handles fitted to the side, and then the base formed the mouth; and sometimes the whimsical fancy of the potter fashioned it into the head of a pig, a stag, or any other animal. One in the Neapolitan Museum has the head of an eagle with the ears of a man.

These vases are usually of clay, but cheap as is the material, it is evident by their good workmanship that they were not made by the lowest artists.

[298]The learned seem to have been generally mistaken on the subject of glass-making among the ancients, who appear to have been far more skillful than had been imagined. The vast collection of bottles, vases, glasses, and other utensils, discovered at Pompeii, is sufficient to show that the ancients were well acquainted with the art of glass-blowing.

There is no doubt but that the Romans possessed glass in sufficient plenty to apply it to purposes of household ornament. The raw material appears from Pliny's account to have undergone two fusions; the first converted it into a rough mass called ammonitrum, which was melted again and became pure glass. We are also told of a dark-colored glass resembling obsidian, plentiful enough to be cast into solid statues.

Pliny mentions having seen images of Augustus cast in this substance. It probably was some coarse kind of glass resembling the ammonitrum, or such as that in which the scoriæ of our iron furnaces abound. Glass was worked either by blowing it with a pipe, as is now practiced, by turning in a lathe, by engraving and carving it, or, as we have noticed, by casting it in a mould.

The ancients had certainly acquired great skill in the manufacture, as appears both from the accounts which have been preserved by ancient authors, and by the specimens which still exist—among which we may notice, as pre-eminently beautiful, that torment of antiquaries, the Portland vase, preserved in the British Museum. We have already adverted to another vase of the same kind, and of almost equal beauty, found in one of the tombs near the Gate of Herculaneum.

A remarkable story is told by Dion Cassius, of a man who, in the time of the Emperor Tiberius, brought a glass cup into the imperial presence and dashed it on the ground. To the wonder of the spectators, the vessel bent under the blow without breaking, and the ingenious artist immediately hammered out the bruise, and restored it whole and sound to its original form; [299]in return for which display of his skill, Tiberius, it is said, ordered him to be immediately put to death.

The story is a strange one, yet it is confirmed by Pliny, who both mentions the discovery itself, and gives a clue to the motives which may have urged the emperor to a cruelty apparently so unprovoked. He speaks of an artificer who had invented a method of making flexible glass, and adds that Tiberius banished him, lest this new fashion should injure the workers in metal, of whose trade the manufacture of gold, silver, and other drinking-cups, and furniture for the table, formed an extensive and important branch.

The Romans were also well acquainted with the art of coloring glass, as appears, among other proofs, from the glass mosaics, of which mention has been made. Pliny speaks of a blood-red sort, called hæmatinum, from blood, of white glass, blue glass, etc. The most valuable sort, however, was the colorless crystal glass, for two cups of which, with handles on each side, Nero gave 6,000 sesterces, about $240.

Under this head we may speak of the vases called murrhina, since one theory respecting them is, that they were made of variegated glass. Their nature, however, is doubtful; not so their value. Pliny speaks of 70 talents being given for one holding three sextarii, about four and a half pints. Titus Petronius on his death-bed defrauded the avarice of Nero, who had compelled him, by a common piece of tyranny, to appoint the crown his heir by breaking a murrhine trulla, or flat bowl, worth 300 talents. Nero himself, as became a prince, outdid all by giving 100 talents for a single capis, or drinking-cup, "a memorable circumstance, that an emperor, and father of his country, should have drunk at so dear a rate." Pliny's description of this substance runs thus:

"It is to be noticed that we have these rich cassidoin vessels (called in Latin murrhina) from the East, and that from places [300]otherwise not greatly renowned, but most within the kingdom of Parthia; howbeit the principal come from Carmania. The stone whereof these vessels are made is thought to be a certain humor, thickened as it were in the earth by heat. In no place are these stones found larger than small tablements of pillars or the like, and seldom were they so thick as to serve for such a drinking-cup as I have spoken of already. Resplendent are they in some sort, but it may rather be termed a gloss than a radiant and transparent clearness; but that which maketh them so much esteemed is the variety of colors, for in these stones a man shall perceive certain veins or spots, which, as they be turned about, resemble divers colors, inclining partly to purple and partly to white: he shall see them also of a third color composed of them both, resembling the flame of fire. Thus they pass from one to another as a man holdeth them, insomuch as their purple seemeth near akin to white, and their milky white to bear as much on the purple. Some esteem those cassidoin or murrhine stones, the richest, which present as it were certain reverberations of certain colors meeting altogether about their edges and extremities, such as we observe in rainbows; others are delighted with certain fatty spots appearing in them; and no account is made of them which show either pale or transparent in any part of them, for these be reckoned great faults and blemishes; in like manner if there be seen in the cassidoin any spots like corns of salts or warts, for then are they considered apt to split. Finally, the cassidoin stones are commended in some sort also for the smell that they do yield."

On these words of Pliny a great dispute has arisen. Some think that onyx is the material described, a conjecture founded on the variety of colors which that stone presents. To this it is objected, that onyx and murrha, onyx vases and murrhine vases are alike mentioned by Latin writers, and never with any hint as to their identity; nay, there is a passage in which Heliogabalus [301]is said to have onyx and murrhine vases in constant use. Others, as we have said, think that they were variegated glass; others that they were the true Chinese porcelain, a conjecture in some degree strengthened by a line of Propertius:

"Murrheaq. in Parthis pocula cocta focis."

At the same time this quotation is not so conclusive as it might have been, since Pliny speaks of murrha as "hardened in the earth by heat," and the poet may only have meant the same thing, though the expression in that case would be somewhat strained. To us, Pliny's description appears to clearly point to some opaline substance; the precious opal has never in modern times been found in masses approaching to the size necessary to make vessels such as we have spoken of. The question is not likely to be settled, and it is not improbable that the material of these murrhine vases is entirely unknown to us, as the quarries of many marbles used by the ancients have hitherto eluded our research, and the marbles themselves are only known by their recurrence among ancient buildings.

We may here notice one or two facts connected with glass, which show that the ancients were on the verge of making one or two very important discoveries in physical science. They were acquainted with the power of transparent spherical bodies to produce heat by the transmission of light, though not with the manner in which that heat was generated by the concentration of the solar rays. Pliny mentions the fact that hollow glass balls filled with water would, when held opposite to the sun, grow hot enough to burn any cloth they touched; but the turn of his expression evidently leads to the conclusion that he believed the heat to become accumulated in the glass itself, not merely to be transmitted through it. Seneca speaks of similar glass balls, which magnified minute objects to the view. Nay, he had nearly stumbled on a more remarkable discovery, the composition of light, for he mentions the possibility of producing an artificial [302]rainbow by the use of an angular glass rod. At a far earlier period Aristophanes speaks of "a transparent substance used to light fires with," usually translated glass. The passage is curious, as it shows a perfect acquaintance with the use of the burning glass.

With the laws of reflection the ancients, as we know from the performances ascribed to Archimedes, were well acquainted. It is singular that being in possession of such remarkable facts connected with refraction, they should never have proceeded to investigate the laws by which it is governed.

The first object figured h, in the annexed block, is a glass funnel, infundibulum; g, is described as a wine-strainer, but the method of its use is not altogether clear. The bottom is slightly concave, and pierced with holes. It is supposed to have been used as a sort of tap, the larger part being placed within the barrel, and the wine drawn off through the neck or spout, which is broken. Fig. n, is a wine-taster, something on the principle of a siphon. It is hollow, and the air being exhausted by the mouth at the small end, the liquid to be tasted was drawn up into the cavity. a and b, wine-jars; c, two small wine-jars in a glass casket; d, e, f and q, goblets or drinking-glasses of toned and beautiful colored glass; i and m, glass dishes, the first with a saucer.

[303]Another sort of glass strainer, of which there are several in the Neapolitan Museum, is made of bronze, pierced in elegant and intricate patterns as seen on page 84. The Romans used strainers filled with snow to cool their wines, and such may have been the destination of the one here represented. These were called cola vinaria, or nivaria. The poor used a linen cloth for the same purpose.

With respect to the details of dress, the excavations, whether at Pompeii or Herculaneum, enable us to clear up no difficulties, and to add little to that which is already known on this subject. Still a short notice of the principal articles of dress, and explanation of their Latin names, may be expedient for the full understanding of some parts of our subject. The male costume will detain us a very short time.

The proper Roman dress, for it would be tiresome and unprofitable to enter upon the variety of garments introduced in later times from foreign nations, consisted merely of the toga and tunica, the latter being itself an innovation on the simple and hardy habit of ancient times. It was a woolen vest, for it was late before the use of linen was introduced, reaching to the knees, and at first made without sleeves, which were considered effeminate; but, as luxury crept in, not only were sleeves used, but the number of tunics was increased to three or four. The toga was an ample semi-circular garment, also without sleeves. It is described as having an opening large enough to admit the head and the right arm and shoulder, which were left exposed, having a sort of lappet, or flap (lacinia), which was brought under the right arm and thrown over the left shoulder, forming the sinus, or bosom, the deep folds of which served as a sort of pocket. This is the common description, which, we confess, conveys no very clear notion of the construction or appearance of the dress. The left arm was entirely covered, or if exposed, it was by gathering up the lower edge of the ample garment.

[304]The female dress consisted of one or more tunics, with an upper garment, called stola, which superseded the toga, originally worn by women as well as men. The stola is said to have been a more ample and ornamented sort of tunic. The tunic worn by women does not seem to have differed from that worn by men, except that it reached to the feet. Above the stola, women wore a mantle called palla or pallium. This is said to have been thrown across the shoulders, the right end being gathered up and thrown over the left shoulder, leaving nothing but the right hand visible.

Some minute speculations relative to one article in female dress have been based on a statue from Herculaneum, in which a Neapolitan antiquary thinks that he has discovered the nature and construction of that compound garment called the tunico-pallium, in which the appearance and uses of the tunic and mantle were united. It is the statue of a woman employed in buckling her dress over the right shoulder, having already fastened it on the left, in such a manner as to leave the arm bare.

Numerous articles of female ornament have been found, of which we have collected a few into one block. They are drawn of the same size as the originals. The lower corners of the cut represent ear-rings, seen in front and sideways. It is a portion of a plain gold spheroid, very thick, with a metal hook at the back to pass through the ear. The next is of simpler construction, having pearl pendants. Both these patterns seem to have [305]been very common. The upper right-hand corner of the cut represents a breast-pin, attached to a Bacchanalian figure, with a patera in one hand and a glass in the other. He is provided with bat's wings, and two belts, or bands of grapes, pass across his body. The bat's wings symbolize the drowsiness consequent upon hard drinking. There are also represented gold rings with serpent's heads, the eyes of which are inlaid with beautiful stones and diamonds; also bracelets of this pattern were very common.

A beautiful gold necklace was also found, of which a cut is represented in the above plate. It was very elaborate and exquisite. Ornamental safety-pins were also found, as shown in following cuts. Lockets were also found, indicating religious subjects of later date.

Small toilet-boxes, made of wood or ivory, were also numerous; and, like the vases, of many different forms; and some, which contained cosmetics of divers kinds, served to deck the dressing table, or a lady's boudoir. They were carved in [306]various ways, and loaded with ornamental devices in relief; sometimes representing the favorite lotus flower, with its buds and stalks, a goose, gazelle, fox, or other animal. Many were of considerable length, terminating in a hollow shell, not unlike a spoon in shape and depth, covered with a lid turning on a pin; and to this, which may properly be styled the box, the remaining part was merely an accessory, intended for ornament, or serving as a handle.

They were generally of sycamore wood, sometimes of tamarisk, or of acacia; and occasionally ivory, and inlaid work, were substituted for wood. To many, a handle of less disproportionate length was attached, representing the usual lotus flower, a figure, a Typhonian monster, an animal, a bird, a fish, or a reptile; and the box itself, whether covered with a lid or open, was in character with the remaining part. Some shallow ones were probably intended to contain small portions of [307]ointment, taken from a large vase at the time it was wanted, or for other purposes connected with the toilet, where greater depth was not required; and in many instances they rather resembled spoons than boxes.

Many were made in the form of a royal oval, with and without a handle; and the body of a wooden fish was scooped out, and closed with a cover imitating the scales, to deceive the eye by the appearance of a solid mass. Sometimes a goose was represented, ready for table, or swimming on the water, and pluming itself; the head being the handle of a box formed of its hollow body; some consisted of an open part or cup, attached to a covered box; others of different shapes offered the usual variety of fancy devices, and some were without covers, which may come under the denomination of saucers. Others bore the precise form and character of a box, being deeper and more capacious; and these were probably used for holding trinkets, or occasionally as repositories for the small pots of ointment, or scented oils, and bottles containing the collyrium, which women applied to their eyes.

Some were divided into separate compartments, covered by a common lid, either sliding in a groove, or turning on a pin at [308]one end; and many of still larger dimensions sufficed to contain a mirror, combs, and, perhaps, even some articles of dress.

These boxes were frequently of costly materials, veneered with rare woods, or made of ebony, inlaid with ivory, painted with various devices, or stained to imitate materials of a valuable nature; and the mode of fastening the lid, and the curious substitute for a hinge given to some of them, show the former was entirely removed, and that the box remained open, while used.

Knobs of ebony, or other hard wood, were very common. They were covered with great care, and inlaid with ivory and silver.

Some boxes were made with a pointed summit, divided into two parts, one of which alone opened, turning on small pivots at the base, and the two ends of the box resembled in form the gable ends, as the top, the shelving roof, of a house. The sides were, as usual, secured by glue and nails, generally of wood, and dove-tailed, a method of joining adopted in Egypt at the most remote period; but the description of these belongs more properly to cabinet work, as those employed for holding the combs, and similar objects, to the toilet.

Some vases have been found in boxes, made of wicker-work, closed with stoppers of wood, reed, or other materials, supposed to belong either to a lady's toilet or to a medical man; one of which, now in the Berlin Museum, has been already noticed.

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[309]

Furniture.

In the furniture of the houses the Egyptians displayed considerable taste; and there, as elsewhere, they studiously avoided too much regularity, justly considering that its monotonous effect fatigued the eye. They preferred variety both in the arrangement of the rooms and in the character of their furniture, and neither the windows, doors, nor wings of the house, exactly corresponded with each other. An Egyptian would, therefore, have been more pleased with the form of our Elizabethan, than of the box-shaped rooms of later times.

In their mode of sitting on chairs they resembled the modern Europeans rather than Asiatics, neither using, like the latter, soft divans, nor sitting cross-legged on carpets. Nor did they recline at meals, as the Romans, on a triclinium, though couches and ottomans formed part of the furniture of an Egyptian. When Joseph entertained his brethren, he ordered them to sit according to their ages. Egyptians sometimes sat cross-legged on the ground, on mats and carpets, or knelt on one or both knees; these were rather the customs for certain occasions, and of the poorer classes. To sit on their heels was also customary as a token of respect in the presence of a superior, as in modern Egypt; and when a priest bore a shrine before the deity he assumed this position of humility; a still greater respect being shown by prostration, or by kneeling and kissing the ground. But the house of a wealthy person was always furnished with chairs and couches. [310]Stools and low seats were also used, the seat being only from 8 to 14 inches high, and of wood, or interlaced with thongs; these, however, may be considered equivalent to our rush-bottomed chairs, and probably belonged to persons of humbler means. They varied in their quality, and some were inlaid with ivory and various woods.

Those most common in the houses of the rich were the single and double chair (answering to the Greek thronos and diphros), the latter sometimes kept as a family seat, and occupied by the master and mistress of the house, or a married couple. It was not, however, always reserved exclusively for them, nor did they invariably occupy the same seat; they sometimes sat like their guests on separate chairs, and a diphros was occasionally offered to visitors, both men and women.

Many of the fauteuils were of the most elegant form. They were made of ebony and other rare woods, inlaid with ivory, and very similar to some now used in Europe. The legs were mostly in imitation of those of an animal; and lions' heads, or the entire body, formed the arms of large fauteuils, as in the throne of Solomon (I Kings, x. 19). Some, again, had folding legs, like our camp-stools; the seat was often slightly concave; and those in the royal palace were ornamented with the figures of captives, or emblems of dominion over Egypt and other countries. The back was light and strong, and consisted of a single set of upright and cross bars, or of a frame receding gradually and terminating at its summit in a graceful curve, supported from without by perpendicular bars; and over this was thrown a handsome pillow of colored cotton, painted leather, or gold and silver tissue, like the beds at the feast of Abasuerus, mentioned in Esther, or like the feathered cushions covered with stuffs and embroidered with silk and threads of gold in the palace of Scaurus.

Seats on the principle of our camp-stools seem to have been much in vogue. They were furnished with a cushion, or were [311]covered with the skin of a leopard, or some other animal, which was removed when the seat was folded up; and it was not unusual to make even head-stools, or wooden pillows on the same principle. They were also adorned in various ways, bound with metal plates, and inlaid with ivory, or foreign woods; and the wood of common chairs was often painted to resemble that of a rarer and more valuable kind.

The seats of chairs were frequently of leather, painted with flowers and fancy devices; of interlaced work made of string or thongs, carefully and neatly arranged, which, like our Indian cane chairs, were particularly adapted for a hot climate; but over this they occasionally placed a leather cushion, painted in the manner already mentioned.

The forms of the chairs varied very much; the larger ones generally had light backs, and some few had arms. They were mostly about the height of those now used in Europe, the seat nearly in a line with the bend of the knee; but some were very low, and others offered that variety of position which we seek in the kangaroo chairs of our own drawing-room. The ordinary fashion of the legs was in imitation of those of some wild animal, as the lion or the goat, but more usually the former, the foot raised and supported on a short pin; and, what is remarkable, the skill of their cabinet-makers, even before the time of Joseph, had already done away with the necessity of uniting the legs with bars. Stools, however, and more rarely chairs, were occasionally made with these strengthening members, as is still the case in our own country; but the drawing-room fauteuil and couch were not disfigured by so unseemly and so unskillful a support.

The stools used in the saloon were of the same style and elegance as the chairs, frequently differing from them only in the absence of a back; and those of more delicate workmanship were made of ebony, and inlaid, as already stated, with ivory or [312]rare woods. Some of an ordinary kind had solid sides, and were generally very low; and others, with three legs, belonged to persons of inferior rank.

The ottomans were simple square sofas, without backs, raised from the ground nearly to the same level as the chairs. The upper part was of leather, or a cotton stuff, richly colored, like the cushions of the fauteuils; the base was of wood painted with various devices; and those in the royal palace were ornamented with the figures of captives, the conquest of whose country was designated by their having this humiliating position. The same idea gave them a place on the soles of sandals, on the footstools of a royal throne, and on the walls of the palace at Medeenet Haboo, in Thebes, where their heads support some of the ornamental details of the building.

Footstools also constituted part of the furniture of the sitting-room; they were made with solid or open sides, covered at the top with leather or interlaced work, and varied in height according to circumstances, some being of the usual size now adopted by us, others of inconsiderable thickness, and rather resembling a small rug. Carpets, indeed, were a very early invention, and they are often represented sitting upon them, as well as on mats, which are commonly used in their sitting-rooms, as at the present day, and remnants of them have been found in the Theban tombs.

Their couches evinced no less taste than the fauteuils. They were of wood, with one end raised, and receding in a graceful curve; and the feet, as in many of the chairs, already described, were fashioned to resemble those of some wild animal.

Egyptian tables were round, square, or oblong; the former were generally used during their repasts, and consisted of a circular flat summit, supported like the monopodium of the Romans, on a single shaft, or leg, in the centre, or by the figure of a man, intended to represent a captive. Large tables had usually three [313]or four legs, but some were made with solid sides; and though generally of wood, many were of metal or stone; and they varied in size, according to the purposes for which they were intended.

Of the furniture of their bed-rooms we know little or nothing; but that they universally employed the wooden pillow above alluded to is evident, though Porphyry would lead us to suppose its use was confined to the priests, when, in noticing their mode of life, he mentions a half cylinder of well polished wood "sufficing to support their head," as an instance of their simplicity and self-denial. For the rich they were made of Oriental alabaster, with an elegant grooved or fluted shaft, ornamented with hieroglyphics, carved in intaglio, of sycamore, tamarisk, and other woods of the country; the poor classes being contented with a cheaper sort, of pottery or stone. Porphyry mentions a kind of wicker bedstead of palm branches, hence called bais, evidently the species of framework called kaffass, still employed by the modern Egyptians as a support to the divans of sitting rooms, and to their beds. Wooden, and perhaps also bronze, bedsteads (like the iron one of Og, King of Bashan), were used by the wealthier classes of the ancient Egyptians; and it is at least probable that the couches they slept upon were as elegant as those on which their bodies reposed after death; and the more so, as these last, in their general style, are very similar to the furniture of the sitting-room.

The oldest specimen of a bedstead is that mentioned by Homer as joined together by Odysseus in his own house. He had cut off the stem of an olive-tree a few feet from the ground, and joined to it the boards of the bed, so that the trunk supported the bed at the head. It therefore was immovable. The antique bed must be considered as the prolongation of the diphros. The cross-legged diphros prolonged became the folding bed; that with perpendicular legs the couch. The former could easily be moved [314]and replaced; they are perhaps identical with the beds frequently mentioned in the "Odyssey," which were put into the outer hall for guests. One of them is shown as the notorious bed of Prokrustes in a picture on a vase. The diphros corresponds to the couch resting on four legs, at first without head and foot-board, which were afterwards added at both ends. By the further addition of a back on one of the long sides, it became what we now call a chaise longue or sofa. This sleeping kline was no doubt essentially the same as that used at meals. The materials were, besides the ordinary woods, maple or box, either massive or veneered. The legs and backs, and other parts not covered by the bed clothes, were carefully worked. Sometimes the legs are neatly carved or turned, sometimes the frames are inlaid with gold, silver, and ivory, as is testified in the "Odyssey," and elsewhere.

The bedding mentioned in Homer did not consist of sumptuous bolsters and cushions, as in later times. It consisted, even amongst the richer classes, first of all of the blankets of a long-haired woolen material, or perhaps a kind of mattress. Hides, as spread by the poor on the hard floor, were sometimes put under the blankets, and other additional blankets, so as to soften the couch. The whole was covered with linen sheets. The light blankets served to cover the sleeper, who sometimes used his own dress for this purpose; sometimes they consisted of woolen blankets woven for the purpose. After Homer's time, when Asiatic luxury had been introduced into Greece, a mattress was placed immediately on the bed-straps. It was stuffed with plucked wool or feathers, and covered with some linen or woolen material. Pillows, like the mattresses stuffed with wool or feathers, were added to complete the bedding, at least in more luxurious times. (The cut on page 78 gives a good idea of the looks of an ancient Roman and Grecian bed.) Of a similar kind were the klinai placed in the sitting-rooms, lying on which, in a [315]half-reclining position, people used to read, write and take their meals. They were covered with soft blankets of gorgeous colors, while one or more cushions served to support the body in its half-sitting position, or to prop the left arm.

Tables were used by the ancients chiefly at meals, not for reading and writing. The antique tables, either square with four legs, or circular or oval with three connected legs, afterwards with one leg, resemble our modern ones, but for their being lower. Mostly their slabs did not reach higher than the kline; higher tables would have been inconvenient for the reclining person. In Homeric and even in later times, a small table stood before each thronos. The use of separate dishes for each guest is comparatively new. Originally the meats were brought in on large platters, divided by the steward, and each portion put on the bare table. In want of knives and forks the fingers were used. The pastry was put in baskets by the tables. Whether the Homeric tables were as low as the later ones, when lying instead of sitting had become the custom, we must leave undecided, in want of sculptural evidence. The legs of the tables were carefully finished, particularly those of the tripods, which frequently imitated the legs of animals, or at least had claws at their ends. The four-legged tables were more simple in design. The material was wood, particularly maple; later on, bronze, precious metals, and ivory were introduced.

For the keeping of articles of dress, valuable utensils, ornaments, bottles of ointment, and documents, larger or smaller drawers and boxes were used. Chests of drawers and upright cupboards with doors seem to have been unknown in earlier times; only in few monuments of later date (for instance in the wall-painting of a shoemaker's workshop at Herculaneum) we see something resembling our wardrobe. The wardrobes mentioned by Homer doubtless resembled our old-fashioned trunks. The surfaces showed ornaments of various kinds, either cut from [316]the wood in relief or inlaid with precious metal and ivory. Some smaller boxes with inlaid figures or painted arabesques are shown from pictures on vases. The ornamentation with polished nails seem to have been very much in favor—a fashion re-introduced in modern times. The most celebrated example of such ornamentation was the box of Kypselos, in the opisthodomos of the temple of Hera at Olympia. It dates probably from the time when the counting by Olympiads was introduced, and served, according to Botticher, for the keeping of votive tapestry and the like. According to Pausanias, it was made of cedar-wood, and elliptic in shape. It was adorned with mythological representations, partly carved in wood, partly inlaid with gold and ivory, encircling the whole box in five stripes, one over the other.

Locks, keys and bolts, known at an early period for the closing of doors, were later applied to boxes, as is sufficiently proved by the still-existing small keys fastened to finger-rings, which, although all of Roman make, were most likely not unknown to the Greeks. For doors these would have been too small.

The furniture of Greek houses was simple, but full of artistic beauty. This was particularly displayed in vessels for the keeping of both dry and fluid stores, as were found in temples, dwellings and even graves. Only the last-mentioned have been preserved to us. Earthen vessels are the most numerous. The invention of the potter's wheel is of great antiquity, and was ascribed by the Greeks in different places to different mythical persons. The Corinthians named Hyperbion as its inventor. In the Kerameikos, the potters' quarter of Athens, Keramos, the son of Dionysos and Ariadne, was worshiped as such. The name of the locality itself was derived from this "heros eponymos." Next to Corinth and Athens (which latter became celebrated for earthen manufactures, owing to the excellent clay of the promontory of Kolias), Ægina, Lakedæmon, Aulis, Tenedos, Samos and Knidos were famous for their earthenware. In these places the manufacture of painted earthenware was concentrated; thence they were exported to the ports of the Mediterranean and the Black Sea for the markets of the adjoining countries. Owing to the beautiful custom of the ancients of leaving in the graves of the dead the utensils of their daily life, a great many beautiful vessels have been preserved which otherwise would have shared the destruction of the dwellings with much less fragile implements. From the pictures on these vases we derive, moreover, valuable information as to the public and private habits of the Greeks. The greatest number of graves in their original condition, and filled with vessels, are found in Italy.

[317]

[318]Good, particularly red, clay was in demand for superior goods, and of this the promontory of Kolias, near Athens, furnished an unlimited supply. The potter's wheel was in use at a very early period. On it were formed both large and small vessels, with the difference, however, that of the former the foot, neck, and handles were formed separately, and afterwards attached, as was also the case in small vessels with widely curved handles.

In order to intensify the red color the vessel was frequently glazed and afterwards dried and burnt on the oven. The outlines of the figures to be painted on the vase were either cut into the red clay and filled up with a brilliant black varnish, or the surface itself was covered with the black varnish up to the contours, in which case these stood out in the natural red color of the clay.

The first mentioned process was the older of the two, and greater antiquity is, therefore, to be assigned to vessels with black figures on a red ground. In both kinds of paintings draperies or the muscles of nude figures were further indicated by the incision of additional lines of the color of the surface into the figures. [319]Other colors, like dark red, violet, or white, which on close investigation have been recognized as dissolvable, were put on after the second burning of the vessel.

About the historic development of pottery we know nothing beyond what may be guessed from the differences of style. As we said before, figures of a black or dark-brown color painted on the natural pale red or yellowish color of the clay indicate greater antiquity. The black figures were occasionally painted over in white or violet. These vessels are mostly small and somewhat compressed in form; they are surrounded with parallel stripes of pictures of animals, plants, fabulous beings, or arabesques. The drawings show an antiquated stiff type, similar to those on the vessels recently discovered at Nineveh and Babylon, whence the influence of Oriental on Greek art may be inferred. This archaic style, like the strictly hieratic style in sculpture, was retained together with a freer treatment at a more advanced period. As a first step of development we notice the combination of animals and arabesques, at first with half-human, half-animal figures, soon followed by compositions belonging mostly to a certain limited circle of myths. The treatment of figures shows rigidity in the calm, and violence in the active, positions. The Doric forms of letters and words on many vases of this style, whether found in Greece or Italy, no less than the uniformity of their technique, indicate one place of manufacture, most likely the Doric Corinth, celebrated for her potteries; on the other hand, the inscriptions in Ionian characters and written in the Ionian dialect on vessels prove their origin in the manufactures of the Ionian Eubœa and her colonies. The pictures on these vases, also painted in stripes, extend the mythological subject-matter beyond the Trojan cycle to the oldest epical myths, each story being represented in its consecutive phases.

The latter vases form the transition to the second period. The shapes now become more varied, graceful, and slender. The [320]figures are painted in black, and covered with a brilliant varnish; the technique of the painting, however, does not differ from that of the first period. The outlines have been neatly incised and covered up with black paint; the details also of draperies and single parts of the body are done by incision, and sometimes painted over in white or dark red. The principle seems to be that of polychrome painting, also applied in sculpture. Single parts of the armor, embroideries, and patterns of dresses, hair, and beards of men, the manes of animals, etc., are indicated by means of dark red lines. This variety of color was required particularly for the draperies, which are stiff and clumsily attached to the body. The same stiffness is shown in the treatment of faces and other nude parts of the body, as also in the rendering of movements. The faces are always in profile, the nose and chin pointed and protruding, and the lips of the compressed mouth indicated only by a line. Shoulders, hips, thighs, and calves bulge out, the body being singularly pinched. The grouping is equally imperfect. The single figures of compositions are loosely connected by the general idea of the story. They have, as it were, a narrative character; an attempt at truth to nature is, however, undeniable.

The subjects are taken partly from the twelve-gods cycle (like the frequently-occurring birth of Athene, Dionysian processions, etc.), or from Trojan and Theban myths; partly also from daily life, such as chases, wrestlings, sacrifices, symposia and the like. To this class belong most of those large Panathenaic prize-vases, which are of such importance for our knowledge of gymnastic competitions.

In our third class the figures appear in the natural color of the surface, which itself has been painted black. The character of the figures in consequence appears gay and lively. Both styles seem at one time to have existed together, for we find them used severally on two sides of one and the same vessel, till at last the [321]painting of black figures was disused entirely. The drawings now become more individual, and are freed from the fetters of conventional tradition—a proof of the free development of both political and artistic feelings, even among the lower classes of artificers. The specimens of the third class show the different stages of this process of liberation. At first the figures are somewhat hard, and the drapery, although following the lines of the body more freely than previously, shows still traces of archaic severity of treatment; the details, indicated by black lines, are still carefully worked out. For smaller folds and muscles, a darker shade of the red color is used; wreaths and flowers appear dark; red white is used only in few cases—for instance, for the hair of an old man. The composition shows greater concentration and symmetry in the grouping, according to the conditions of the space at disposal. The figures show a solemn dignity, with signs, however, of an attempted freer treatment.

Kramer justly calls this period that of the "severe style," and compares it with the well-known "Æginetic" style in sculpture. The further development of the "severe style" is what [322]Kramer calls the "beautiful style," in which grace and beauty of motion and drapery, verging on the soft, have taken the place of severe dignity. In high art this transition might be compared to that from Perugino's school to that of Raphael, or, if we may believe the ancient writers, from the school of Polygnotos to that of Zeuxis and Parrhasios.

The form of the vessels themselves next calls for our attention. The vases, two-handled amphorai and krateres, found most frequently during this period, are slender and graceful. Together with them we meet with beautifully modeled drinking-horns, and heads or whole figures, used to put vessels upon. The variety of forms, and the largeness of some vessels, overloaded as they were with figures, soon led to want of care in the composition. The moderation characteristic of the "beautiful style" was soon relinquished for exaggerated ornamentation, combined with a preference for representing sumptuous dresses and the immoderate use of white, yellow, and other colors. This led gradually to the decadence of pottery.

In some Etruscan cities earthenware was manufactured by local artists working after Greek patterns. The figures are distinguished from genuine Greek work by the contours being incised very deeply and filled up with red color. The clay also is coarser. The compositions show an admixture of local myths and usages, not to mention Etruscan inscriptions.

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[323]

Vases.

Painted vases may be considered as the most curious, the most graceful, and the most instructive remains that have come down to us from ancient times. The beauty of the forms, the fineness of the material, the perfection of the varnish, the variety of the subjects, and their interest in an historical point of view give painted vases a very important place among the productions of the arts of the ancients. Painted vases have been collected with great eagerness ever since they have been known, and the most remarkable have been engraved by celebrated artists, and explained by profound archæologists. Modern art and archæology have obtained from them beautiful models and important information. They were known for the first time in the seventeenth century.

Painted vases were, to a considerable extent, objects of traffic and of export from one country to another. They may be generally traced to Athens as the original place of exportation. Corinth also exported vases, for the products of Corinthian potters have been found in Sicily and Italy, and there can be no doubt that Corinth had established an active trade in works of art with the Greek colonies all over the Mediterranean. Athenian vases were carried by the Phœnicians, the commercial traders of the ancient world, as objects of traffic to the remotest parts of the then known world. In the Periplus of Scylax, the [324]Phœnicians are mentioned as exchanging the pottery of Athens for the ivory of Africa. They were, in fact, the ornamental china of the ancient world.

Etruscan.—The potter's art was introduced into Etruria by Demaratus of Corinth, who, flying from that city, took up his abode at Tarquinii, the modern Corneto, where vases in the most archaic style, resembling those of Corinth, or those called Doric, have been found. Vases, the Etruscan origin of which can not be disputed, have been found at Volterra, Tarquinii (Corneto), Perugia, Orvieto, Viterbo, Aquapendente, and other towns of ancient Etruria. The clay of which they are made is of a pale or reddish yellow, the varnish is dull, the workmanship rather rude, the ornaments are devoid of taste and elegance, and the style of the figures possesses all those characteristics already assigned to that of the Etruscans. The figures are drawn in black on the natural color of the clay; sometimes a little red is introduced on the black ground of the drapery. It is by the subject chiefly that the Etruscan vases are distinguished from the Greek vases. On the former, the figures are in the costume peculiar to ancient Italy; the men and the heroes are represented with their beards and hair very thick; the gods and genii have large wings; monstrous combinations not capable of explanation by Hellenic myths; we may also observe divinities, religious customs, attributes, [325]manners, arms, and symbols, different from those of Greece. Etruscan deities, such as Charun with his mace, denote their Etruscan origin; the subjects of the vases are, however, generally derived from Greek mythology, treated in a manner consonant to the Etruscan taste, and to their local religion, while their drawing is of the coarsest kind. If an inscription in Etruscan characters, traced invariably from right to left, accompanies the painting, certainty with regard to their origin may be considered as complete. It is true that the greater number of the letters of the ancient Greek alphabet are of the same form as those of the Etruscan alphabet; but there are in the latter some particular characters which will prevent any confusion. The names of the personages on the vases are spelt differently from those on the Greek, as Ainas for Ajax, Atreste for Adrastus, Akle for Achilles, Alesti for Alcestis, etc. We must also observe, that Etruscan painted vases are very rare, and are but few in number, compared with those for which we are indebted to the arts of Greece.

Greek.—The paste of these vases is tender, easily scratched or cut with a knife, remarkably fine and homogeneous, but of loose texture. When broken, it exhibits a dull opaque color, more or less yellow, red or grey. It is composed of silica, alumina, carbonate of lime, magnesia and oxide of iron. The color depends on the proportions in which these elements are mixed; the paler parts containing more lime, the red more iron. The exterior coating is composed of a particular kind of clay, which seems to be a kind of yellow or red ochre, reduced to a very fine paste, mixed with some glutinous or oily substance, and laid on with a brush; great difference is observable in the pastes of vases [326]coming from widely separated localities, owing either to their composition or baking. The paste of the early vases of Athens and Melos is of a very pale red; that of vases of the Doric or Corinthian style is of a pale lemon color. At the best period of the art, the paste is of a warm orange red; but Lucanian and Apulian vases are of a paler tone. The Etruscan painted vases of all ages are of a pale red tone, with a much greater proportion of white, which appears to be owing to the greater proportion of chalk used in preparing the paste.

The earliest vases were made with the hand, while those of a later period were made with the wheel; the wheel, however, is a very early invention. Among the Egyptians and Greeks it was a low, circular table, turned with the foot. Representations of a potter turning the wheel with his foot, occur on painted vases of an early date. With this simple wheel the Greeks effected wonders, producing shapes still unrivalled in beauty.

After the vases had been made on the wheel, Dr. Birch writes, they were duly dried in the sun, and then painted; for it is evident that they could not have been painted while wet. The simplest and probably the most common, process was to color the entire vase black. The under part of the foot was left plain. When a pattern was added, the outline, faintly traced with a round point on the moist clay, was carefully followed by the painter. It was necessary for the artist to follow his sketch with great rapidity, since the clay rapidly absorbed the coloring matter, and the outline was required to be bold and continuous, each time that it was joined detracting from its merit. A finely-ground slip was next laid upon a brush, and the figures and ornaments were painted in. The whole was then covered with a very fine siliceous glaze, probably formed of soda and well-levigated sand. The vase was next sent to the furnace, and carefully baked. It was then returned to the workshop, where a workman or painter scratched in all the details with a pointed tool. The [327]faces of female figures were colored white, with a thick coat of lime or chalk, and the eyes red. Parts of the drapery, the crests of helmets, and the antyges, or borders of shields, were colored with a crimson coat, consisting of an oxide of iron and lime, like a body color.

In the second style of vases the figures are painted in a dark brown or black, of an unequal tone, on yellow ground, formed of a siliceous coating over the pale red clay of the vase. An improvement upon this style was the changing of the color of the figures by painting, or stopping out, all the ground of the vase in black, thus leaving the figures of the natural red of the clay, and the marking of the muscles and finer portions, as an outline, of bright brown. After the paint had dried, the slip, or the siliceous glaze, was laid over the vase, except the under part of the foot and the inside. The colors used were few and simple, and were evidently ground excessively fine, and made into a kind of slip. Of these colors the black was the most important and the most extensively used. Great difference has always existed as to the nature of this color. Vauquelin takes it to be a carbonaceous matter, such as plumbagine or black lead. The Duc de Luynes asserts it to be an oxide of iron. Of opaque colors, the most important and extensively used is the white, said by Brongniart to be a carbonate of lime or fine clay. Red and yellow are sparingly used. Blue and green are rarely found, and only on vases of the latest styles. The liquid employed for mixing the colors is supposed to have been water.

The glaze with which these vases were covered is described by M. Brongniart as lustrous (lustre), and only one kind was used, the recipe for making which is now lost. It appears to have been composed of one of the principal alkalies, either potash or soda. The vases of Nola and Vulci are remarkable for the beauty and brilliancy of their glaze.

According to d'Hancarville the vases were baked in a naked [328]furnace. Representations of ancient furnaces occur on painted vases. The furnaces were of simple construction, in shape like tall ovens, fed by fires from beneath, into which the vases were placed with a long shovel resembling the baker's peel.

The colors being laid on in a different manner in the earlier and later vases has caused them to be distinguished into two general classes. In the earlier the ground is yellow or red, and the figures are traced on it in black, so as to form kinds of silhouettes. These are called the black or archaic vases; they are generally in an ancient style; their subjects belong to the most ancient mythological traditions, and their inscriptions to the most ancient forms of the Greek alphabet, written from right [329]to left, or in boustrophedon. The draperies, the accessories, the harness of the horses, and the wheels of the chariots, are touched with white. At a later period, the whole vase was painted black, with the exception of the figures, which were then of the color of the clay of the vase; the contours of the figures, the hair, drapery, etc., being previously traced in black. There are then two general classes of Greek vases, distinguished by the figures, which are black or yellow. They are in general remarkable for the beauty and elegance of their forms. There is a great variety in their sizes; some being several feet high, and broad in proportion; others being not higher than an inch. The subject is on one side of the vase; sometimes it occupies the entire circumference, but more generally it is on one side alone, and then there is on the reverse some insignificant subject, generally two or three old men leaning on a stick, instructing a young man, or presenting him with some instrument or utensil; a bacchanalian scene is sometimes represented on the reverse. Some vases have been found with two subjects on the sides of the vase. On some of the finest vases, the subject goes round the entire circumference of the vase. On the foot, neck and other parts are the usual Greek ornaments, the Vitruvian scroll, the Meander, Palmetto, the honeysuckle. A garland sometimes adorns the neck, or, in its stead, a woman's head issuing from a flower. These ornaments are in general treated with the greatest taste and elegance. Besides the obvious difference in the style of the vases, there is a remarkable difference in the execution of the paintings. They are not all of the highest merit, but the boldness of the outlines is generally remarkable on them. They could be executed only with the greatest rapidity, the clay absorbing the colors very quickly, so that if a line was interrupted the joining would be perceptible. Some thought that the figures were executed by the means of patterns cut out, which being laid on the vase, preserved on the black ground the principal masses in [330]yellow, which were finished afterwards with a brush. But this opinion of Sir William Hamilton has been abandoned by himself, particularly since the traces of a point have been recognized, with which the artist had at first sketched on the soft clay the principal outlines, which he afterwards finished with a brush dipped in the black pigment, without, however, strictly following the lines traced by the point. The traces of the point are rarely observed; all depended on the skill and talent of the artists. They must have been very numerous, as these vases are found in such numbers, and the greater number may be considered as models for the excellence of their design and the taste of their composition. Not unfrequently, the artists by whom the designs have been painted, have placed their names on them; the principal names known are those of Clitias, Doris who painted the celebrated Francois vase, Asteas, and Epictetos. Clitias is the most ancient; his designs evince the infancy of art, those of the other artists display greater progress in the art; the name can be recognized from the word painted, which follows it immediately. Some vases have the potter's name inscribed on them.

One of the earliest makers was Taleides. Nearly fifty names of potters have been found, but they only occur on choice specimens of art. On many vases the name of the artist appears along with that of the potter, which much enhances the value of the vase. On the celebrated Francois vase appear the name of the artist Clitias, and the name of the potter Ergotimos. Some potters, such as Amasis and Euphronius, painted as well as made vases. Other inscriptions are sometimes found on vases which enhance their value greatly. They are generally the names of gods, heroes, and other mythological personages, which are represented in the paintings.

These inscriptions are of great interest for two reasons: in the first place, from the form of the letters and the order according to which they are traced, the greater or lesser antiquity of [331]the vase can be recognized, these inscriptions necessarily following all the changes of the Greek alphabet; care must be taken to examine whether the inscription goes from right to left, whether the long vowels, the double letters are replaced by the silent vowels, or single letters; these are in general signs of relative antiquity which prove that of the vase itself; secondly, because the names invariably explain the subject of the painting, and even indicate by a name hitherto unknown, either some personage who sometimes bore another name, or a person whose real name was unknown, in fine, some mythic being of whom ancient writers give us no information.

The information derived from vases is of great importance for the study of Greek mythology viewed in its different epochs, and for the interpretation and understanding of ancient tragic or lyric poets. Moral or historical inscriptions, in prose and in verse, have also been found on vases. The letters of these inscriptions are capital or cursive; they are very delicately traced, and often require a great deal of attention to perceive. They are traced in black or white with a brush, sometimes they are incised with a very sharp point.

On some which had been gifts to some "beautiful youths," we find the inscription, "the handsome boy," and also the form, "the handsome Onetorides," "the handsome Stroibos." One youth is called "the most handsome Hippocritus." The names of females, whether brides, beauties, or hetairæ, are found accompanied with the expression, "the lovely Œnanthe," "the fair Rodon." On others, salutatory expressions are sometimes found, such as "Hail to thee;" "Happy as possible."

The subjects represented on painted vases, although of infinite variety, may be reduced to three classes, which include them all: 1. Mythological subjects; 2. Heroic subjects; 3. Historical subjects. The Mythological subjects relate to the history of all the gods, and their adventures in human form are reproduced on them [332]in a thousand shapes. It requires a deep and intimate knowledge of Greek mythology, in order to explain the different subjects. One of the oldest and most popular subjects in Greece was the Gigantomachia, which is found represented as a whole upon many vases, while others contain individual incidents from it.

Among the Olympic deities represented, Zeus takes a prominent part. The father of the gods, the great thunderer, seldom appears alone, but is chiefly seen in scenes from the Heracleid and the Trojan war. On the black vases, and on those of the finest style with red figures, his amorous adventures are also frequently depicted. The goddess Hera rarely appears.

Athene, the great female deity of the Ionic race, plays an important part in many scenes. As Pallas Athene she frequently appears; generally on foot, but sometimes in her quadriga. Poseidon, the sea god, appears as a subordinate in many scenes, and as a protagonist in others. Apollo, Artemis, Hephæstos, Ares, Aphrodite, and Hermes, frequently appear in various scenes in the vases. The greater part of the paintings of the vases are relative to Dionysus, his festivals and mysteries. On them we see depicted his birth, childhood, education, all his exploits, his banquets, and his games; his habitual companions, his religious ceremonies, the lampadephori brandishing the long torches, the dendrophori raising branches of trees, adorned with garlands and tablets; the initiated preparing for the mysteries; lastly, the ceremonies peculiar to those great institutions, and the circumstances relative to their dogmas and their aim. The inferior deities also appear on the vases.

The Historical subjects begin with the war of Troy. Painters, as well as poets, found in this event a vast field to exercise their talents and their imagination. The principal actors in this memorable drama appear on the vases. The principal scenes of the Trojan war are depicted; but we must remark, that the historical subjects do not extend to a later period than that of the Heracleidæ.

[333]Among the incidents represented are the opening scenes of the Iliad, the quarrel of Agamemnon and Achilles, Briseis led away by the heralds, Paris and Helen, the death of Patroclus, the grief of Achilles, the arming of Achilles, the death of Hector, Priam entreating for the corpse of Hector, the terrible scene of the last night of Troy. Many subjects from the Odyssey also occur. Incidents from the Greek drama are of common occurrence, such as the death of Agamemnon, Orestes and Pylades meeting Electra, the death of Clytemnestra, the Furies pursuing Orestes.

We may consider, as belonging to the class of historical vases, those with paintings relative to public and private customs; those representing games, repasts, scenic representations of combats of animals, hunting and funeral subjects.

[334]Millingen remarks that the subjects of the paintings vary according to the period and the places in which they have been executed; on the most ancient vases Dionysiac scenes are frequently seen. As, originally, the greater number were destined to contain wine, they were adorned with analogous subjects. Those of the beautiful period of the art, especially of the manufacture of Nola, a town in which Greek institutions were observed with extreme care, present the ancient traditions of mythological episodes in all their purity. Those of a later period represent subjects taken from the tragic writers. Lastly, on those of the decline, we see depicted the new ceremonies and superstitions which were mingled with the ancient and simple religion of the Greek. Painted vases are, therefore, of the greatest interest for the study of the manners and customs of ancient Greece, and of those which the Romans adopted from her in imitation.

[335]As to the uses of these vases, there have been a variety of opinions; but a careful examination of a great number of vases would lead us to suppose that many were, doubtless, articles of household furniture, for use and adornment, such as the larger vases, destined, by their size, weight, and form, to remain in the same place, while others, of different sizes and shapes, were made to hold wine and other liquids, unguents, and perfumes. It is evident that they were more for ornament than use, and that they were considered as objects of art, for the paintings seem to have been executed by the best artists of the period. They were chiefly employed for entertainments, and the banquets of the wealthy. They are seen in use in scenes painted on the vases themselves. Many, especially those of the later style, were solely used for decorative purposes, as is evident from the fact of one side only being executed with care, while the other has been neglected, both in the drawing and in the subject. Those with Panathenaic subjects were probably given full of oil, as prizes at the national games. These were called Athla. Certain vases bearing the inscription, "From Athens," or "Prize from Athens," seem to have been given to the victors in the pentathlon, or courses of athletic exercises in the Panathenæa. Others may have been given at the palæstric festivals, or as nuptial presents, or as pledges of love and friendship; and these are marked by some appropriate inscription.

We find that they were also used in the ceremonies of the Mysteries, for we see their forms represented on the vases themselves: Bacchus frequently holds a cantharus, Satyrs carry a diota. A few seem to have been expressly for sepulchral purposes. Some have supposed that these vases were intended to hold the ashes of the dead; but this could not have been their use, for they are only found in tombs in which the bodies have been buried without being burnt. The piety of the relations adorned the tomb of the deceased with those vases, together with his armor and [336]jewelry, which they had prized most in life, which were associated with their habits, or recalled circumstances the memory of which they cherished.

We could not but feel astonished at the perfect preservation of such fragile objects, did we not know that they were found in tombs. Those in which they are found, are placed near the walls, but outside the town, at a slight depth, except those of Nola, where the eruptions of Vesuvius have considerably raised the soil since the period when the tombs were made, so that some of the tombs of Nola are about twenty-one feet under ground.

In Greece, the graves are generally small, being designed for single corpses, which accounts for the comparatively small size of the vases discovered in that country. At Athens the earlier graves are sunk deepest in the soil, and those at Corinth, especially such as contain the early Corinthian vases, are found by boring to a depth of several feet beneath the surface.

The early tombs of Civita Vecchia, and Cære, or Cervetri, in Italy, are tunneled in the earth; and those at Vulci, and in the Etruscan territory, from which the finest and largest vases have been extracted, are chambers hewn in the rocks. In southern Italy, especially in Campania, the common tombs are constructed of [337]rude stones or tiles, and are exactly of sufficient size to contain a corpse and five or six vases; a small one is placed near the head, and the others between the legs of the body, or they are ranged on each side, frequently on the left side alone.

The number and beauty of the vases vary, probably, according to the rank and fortune of the owner of the tomb. The tombs of the first class are larger, and have been built with large cut stones, and rarely connected with cement; the walls inside are coated with stucco, and adorned with paintings; these tombs resemble a small chamber; the corpse is laid out in the middle, the vases are placed round it, frequently some others are hung up to the walls on nails of bronze. The number of vases is always greater in these tombs; they are also of a more elegant form.

Several other articles are sometimes found in the tombs, such as gold and silver fibulæ, swords, spears, armor, and several ornaments. The objects buried with the corpse generally bespeak the tastes and occupation of the deceased. Warriors are found with their armor, women with ornaments for the toilet, priests with their sacerdotal ornaments, as in the tomb at Cervetri. When the vases are taken out of the excavations, they are covered with a coating of whitish earth, something like tartar, and of a calcareous nature; it disappears on the application of aqua fortis. This operation ought to be done with great caution; for though the aqua fortis does not injure the black varnish, it might destroy some of the other colors.

Some of these vases are as well preserved as if they had just been issued from the hands of the potter; others have been greatly injured by the earthy salts with which they have come in contact; [338]many are found broken—these have been put together and restored with great skill. But this work of restoration, especially if the artist adds any details which are not visible on the original, might alter or metamorphose a subject, and the archæologist ought to set little value on these modern additions, in the study of a painted vase.

Several collections have been formed of these vases. The British Museum contains the finest collections, purchased by government from Sir William Hamilton and others. The Museum at Naples, and the Gregorian Museum in the Vatican, also contain many beautiful specimens from Magna Græcia and Etruria. The British Museum has about 2,600 vases of all kinds. The Museum at Naples contains about 2,100, and the Gregorian Museum at Rome about 1,000. Several amateurs have also formed collections in England, France, and Italy. We may mention those of Roger, Hope, Sir Harry Englefield, in England; those of the Duc de Blacas, the Comte Pourtales, in France; and that of the Marquis Campana, in Rome. The total number of vases in public and private collections probably amounts to 15,000 of all kinds. Some of these collections have been published, such as the first collection of Sir William Hamilton, explained by d'Hancarville; the second by Tischbein. Several works have also been published, giving detailed accounts of painted vases in general.

We have mentioned before the luxurious custom, common amongst the Romans after the conquest of Greece and Asia, of having their utensils of the table, and even of the kitchen, made of solid silver. Valuable plate was of common occurrence in the houses of the rich. According to Pliny, common soldiers had the handles of their swords and their belts studded with silver; the baths of women were covered with the same valuable material, which was even used for the common implements of kitchen and scullery. Large manufactories of silver utensils were [339]started, in which each part of the work was assigned to a special artificer; here the orders of the silver-merchants were executed. Amongst the special workmen of these manufactories were the modelers, founders, turners or polishers, chiselers, the workmen who attached the bas-reliefs to the surface of the vessel, and the gilders. Many valuable vessels have been recovered in the present century; others (for instance, several hundred silver vessels found near the old Falerii) have tracelessly disappeared. Amongst the discoveries which happily have escaped the hands of the melter, we mention the treasure of more than one hundred silver vessels, weighing together about 50 pounds, found by Berney in Normandy (1830). According to their inscriptions, these vessels belonged to the treasury of a temple of Mercury; they are at present in the late imperial library at Paris. In the south of Russia the excavations carried on in 1831, 1862, [340]and 1863, amongst the graves of the kings of the Bosphoric empire, have yielded an astonishing number of gold and silver vessels and ornaments belonging to the third century of our era. At Pompeii fourteen silver vases were discovered in 1835; at Cære (1836) a number of silver vases (now in the Museo Gregoriano) were found in a grave. One of the most interesting discoveries was made near Hildesheim, 7th October, 1868, consisting of seventy-four eating and drinking vessels, mostly well preserved; not to speak of numerous fragments which seem to prove that only part of the original treasure has been recovered; the weight of all the vessels (now in the Antiquarium of the Royal Museum, Berlin) amounts to 107,144 lbs., some over 53 tons, of silver. The style and technical finish of the vases prove them to have been manufactured in Rome; the form of the letters of [341]the inscriptions found on twenty-four vessels indicates the first half of the first century after Christ. The surfaces of many of them are covered with alto-relievos of beaten silver—a circumstance which traces back their origin to imperial times, distinguishing them, at the same time, from the bas-relief ornamentations of the acme of Greek art. The gilding of the draperies and weapons, and the silver color of the naked parts, in imitation, as it were, of the gold-and-ivory statues of Greek art, also indicate Roman workmanship. The annexed cuts show some of the finest pieces of this treasure. The composition of the figures on the surface of the vase in cut on page 340 shows true artistic genius; naked children are balancing themselves on water-plants growing in winding curves from a pair of griffins; some of the children attack crabs and eels with harpoons, while others drag the killed animals from the water. The graceful groups on the drinking-vessels in the above cuts are mostly taken from the Bacchic cycle of myths.

Besides vessels of precious metals and stones, those of glass were in favorite use among the Romans. The manufactory of glass, originating in Sidon, had reached its climax of perfection, both with regard to color and form, in Alexandria about the [342]time of the Ptolemies. Many of these Alexandrine glasses have been preserved to us, and their beauty fully explains their superiority in the opinion of the ancients to those manufactured in Italy. Here also, after the discovery of excellent sand at Cumæ and Linternum, glass works had been established. Most of our museums possess some specimens of antique glass manufacture, in the shape of balsam or medicine bottles of white or colored glass. We also possess goblets and drinking-bottles of various shapes and sizes, made of white or common green glass; they generally taper toward the bottom, and frequently show grooves or raised points on their outer surfaces, so as to prevent the glass from slipping from the hand; urns, oinochoai, and dishes of various sizes made of glass, are of frequent occurrence. Some of these are dark blue or green, others party-colored with stripes winding round them in zigzag or in spiral lines, reminding one of mosaic patterns. Pieces of glittering glass, being most likely fragments of so-called allassontes versicolores (not to be mistaken for originally white glass which has been discolored by exposure to the weather), are not unfrequently found. We propose to name in the following pages a few of the more important specimens of antique glass-fabrication. One of the first amongst these is the vessel known as the Barberini or Portland Vase, which was found in the sixteenth century in the sarcophagus of the so-called tomb of Severus Alexander and of his mother Julia Mammæa. It was kept in the Barberini Palace for several centuries, till it was purchased by the Duke of Portland, after whose death it was placed in the British Museum. After having been broken by the hand of a barbarian, it has fortunately been restored satisfactorily. Many reproductions of this vase in china and terra-cotta have made it known in wide circles. The mythological bas-reliefs have not as yet been sufficiently explained. Similar glass vases with bas-relief ornamentation occur occasionally either whole or in fragments.

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[343]

EMPLOYMENT.ToC

Many arts and inventions were in common use in Egypt for centuries before they are generally supposed to have been known; and we are now and then as much surprised to find that certain things were old 3,000 years ago, as the Egyptians would be if they could hear us talk of them as late discoveries. One of them is the use of glass, with which they were acquainted at least as early as the reign of the first Osirtasen, more than 3,800 years ago; and the process of glass-blowing is represented during his reign, in the paintings of Beni Hassan, in the same manner as it is on later monuments, in different parts of Egypt, to the time of the Persian conquest.

The form of the bottle and the use of the blow-pipe are unequivocally indicated in those subjects; and the green hue of the fused material, taken from the fire at the point of the pipe, sufficiently proves the intention of the artist. But, even if we had not this evidence of the use of glass, it would be shown by those well-known images of glazed pottery, which were common at the same period; the vitrified substance that covers them being of the same quality as glass, and containing the same ingredients fused in the same manner. And besides the many glass ornaments known to be of an earlier period is a bead, found at Thebes, bearing the name of a Pharaoh who lived about 1450 B.C., the specific gravity of which, 25° 23', is precisely the same as of crown glass, now manufactured in England.

[344]Glass bottles are even met with on monuments of the 4th dynasty, dating long before the Osirtasens, or more than 4,000 years ago; the transparent substance shows the red wine they contained; and this kind of bottle is represented in the same manner among the offerings to the gods, and at the fetes of individuals, wherever wine was introduced, from the earliest to the latest times. Bottles, and other objects of glass, are commonly found in the tombs; and though they have no kings' names or dates inscribed upon them (glass being seldom used for such a purpose), no doubt exists of their great antiquity; and we may consider it a fortunate chance that has preserved one bead with the name of a sovereign of the 18th dynasty. Nor is it necessary to point out how illogical is the inference that, because other kinds of glass have not been found bearing a king's name, they were not made in Egypt, at, or even before, the same early period.

Pliny ascribes the discovery of glass to some Phœnician sailors accidently lighting a fire on the sea-shore; but if an effect of chance, the secret is more likely to have been arrived at in Egypt, where natron (or subcarbonate of soda) abounded, than by the sea side; and if the Phœnicians really were the first to discover it on the Syrian coast, this would prove their migration from the Persian Gulf to have happened at a very remote period. Glass was certainly one of the great exports of the Phœnicians; who traded in beads, bottles, and other objects of that material, as well as various manufactures, made either in their own or in other countries: but Egypt was always famed for its manufacture; a peculiar kind of earth was found near Alexandria, without which, Strabo says, "it was impossible to make certain kinds of glass of many colors, and of a brilliant quality," and some vases, presented by an Egyptian priest to the Emperor Hadrian, were considered so curious and valuable that they were only used on grand occasions.

[345]Glass bottles, of various colors, were eagerly bought from Egypt, and exported into other countries; and the manufacture as well as the patterns of many of those found in Greece, Etruria, and Rome, show that they were of Egyptian work; and though imitated in Italy and Greece, the original art was borrowed from the workmen of the Nile.

Such, too, was their skill in making glass, and in the mode of staining it of various hues, that they counterfeited with success the emerald, the amethyst, and other precious stones; and even arrived at an excellence in the art of introducing numerous colors into the same vase, to which our European workmen, in spite of their improvements in many branches of this manufacture, are still unable to attain. A few years ago the glass-makers of Venice made several attempts to imitate the variety of colors found in antique cups; but as the component parts were of different densities, they did not all cool, or set, at the same rapidity, and the vase was unsound. And it is only by making an inner foundation of one color, to which those of the outer surface are afterwards added, that they have been able to produce their many-colored vases; some of which were sent to the Great Exhibition of 1851.

Not so the Egyptians, who combined all the colors they required in the same cup, without the interior lining: those which had it being of inferior and cheaper quality. They had even the secret of introducing gold between two surfaces of glass; and in their bottles, a gold band alternates within a set of blue, green, and other colors. Another curious process was also common in Egypt in early times, more than 3,000 years ago, which has only just been attempted at Venice; whereby the pattern on the surface was made to pass in right lines directly through the substance; so that if any number of horizontal sections were made through it, each one would have the same device on its upper and under surface. It is in fact a Mosaic in glass; made by fusing together [346]as many delicate rods of an opaque glass of the color required for the picture, in the same manner as the woods in Tunbridge-ware are glued together, to form a larger and coarser pattern. The skill required in this exquisite work is not only shown by the art itself, but the fineness of the design; for some of the feathers of birds, and other details, are only to be made out with a lens; which means of magnifying was evidently used in Egypt, when this Mosaic glass was manufactured. Indeed, the discovery of a lens of crystal by Mr. Layard, at Nimroud, satisfactorily proves its use at an early period in Assyria; and we may conclude that it was neither a recent discovery there, nor confined to that country.

Winkleman is of opinion that "the ancients carried the art [347]of glass-making to a higher degree of perfection than ourselves, though it may appear a paradox to those who have not seen their works in this material;" and we may even add that they used it for more purposes, excepting of course windows, the inconvenience of which in the hot sun of Egypt would have been unbearable, or even in Italy, and only one pane of glass has been found at Pompeii, in a place not exposed to the outer light.

That the Egyptians, more than 3,000 years ago, were well acquainted not only with the manufacture of common glass, for beads and bottles of ordinary quality, but with the art of staining it with divers colors, is sufficiently proved by the fragments found in the tombs of Thebes; and so skillful were they in this complicated process, that they imitated the most fanciful devices, and succeeded in counterfeiting the rich hues, and brilliancy, of precious stones. The green emerald, the purple amethyst, and other expensive gems, were successfully imitated; a necklace of false stones could be purchased at an Egyptian jeweler's, to please the wearer, or deceive a stranger, by the appearance of reality; and some mock pearls (found lately at Thebes) have been so well counterfeited, that even now it is difficult with a strong lens to detect the imposition.

Pliny says the emerald was more easily counterfeited than any other gem, and considers the art of imitating precious stones a far more lucrative piece of deceit than any devised by the ingenuity of man; Egypt was, as usual, the country most noted for this manufacture; and we can readily believe that in Pliny's time they succeeded so completely in the imitation as to render it difficult to distinguish false from real stones.

[348]Many, in the form of beads, have been met with in different parts of Egypt, particularly at Thebes; and so far did the Egyptians carry this spirit of imitation, that even small figures, scarabæi, and objects made of ordinary porcelain, were counterfeited, being composed of still cheaper materials. A figure, which was entirely of earthenware, with a glazed exterior, underwent a somewhat more complicated process than when cut out of stone and simply covered with a vitrified coating; this last could, therefore, be sold at a low price; it offered all the brilliancy of the former, and its weight alone betrayed its inferiority; by which means, whatever was novel, or pleasing from its external appearance, was placed within reach of all classes, or, at least, the possessor had the satisfaction of seeming to partake in each fashionable novelty.

Such inventions, and successful endeavors to imitate costly ornaments by humbler materials, not only show the progress of art among the Egyptians, but strongly argue the great advancement they had made in the customs of civilized life; since it is certain, that until society has arrived at a high degree of luxury and refinement, artificial wants of this nature are not created, and the poorer classes do not yet feel the desire of imitating the rich, in the adoption of objects dependent on taste or accidental caprice.

Glass bugles and beads were much used by the Egyptians for necklaces, and for a sort of network, with which they covered [349]the wrappers and cartonage of mummies. They were arranged so as to form, by their varied hues, numerous devices or figures, in the manner of our bead purses; and women sometimes amused themselves by stringing them for ornamental purposes, as at the present day.

A far more numerous class were the potters; and all the processes of mixing the clay, and of turning, baking and polishing the vases are represented in the tombs of Thebes and Beni Hassan, of which we have already spoken.

They frequently kneaded the clay with their feet, and after it had been properly worked up, they formed it into a mass of convenient size with the hand, and placed it on the wheel, which was of very simple construction, and generally turned with the hand. The various forms of the vases were made out by the finger during the revolution; the handles, if they had any, were afterwards affixed to them; and the devices and other ornamental parts were traced with a wooden or metal instrument, previous to their being baked. They were then suffered to dry, and for this purpose were placed on planks of wood; they were afterwards arranged with great care in trays, and carried, by means of the usual yoke, borne on men's shoulders, to the oven.

The Egyptians displayed much taste in their gold, silver, porcelain, and glass vases, but when made of earthenware, for ordinary purposes, they were frequently devoid of elegance, and scarcely superior to those of England before the taste of Wedgewood substituted the graceful forms of Greek models, for some of the unseemly productions of our old potteries. Though the clay of Upper Egypt was particularly suited to porous bottles, it could be obtained of a sufficiently fine quality for the manufacture of vases like those of Greece and Italy; in Egypt, too, good taste did not extend to all classes, as in Greece; and vases used for fetching water from a well, or from the Nile, were of a very ordinary kind, far inferior to those carried by the Athenian women to the fountain of Kallirhoe.

[350]The Greeks, it is true, were indebted to Egypt for much useful knowledge, and for many early hints in art, but they speedily surpassed their instructors; and in nothing, perhaps, is this more strikingly manifested than in the productions of the potter. Samples of the more common are seen below.

Carpenters and cabinet-makers were a very numerous class of workmen; and their occupations form one of the most important subjects in the paintings which represent the Egyptian trades.

For ornamental purposes, and sometimes even for coffins, doors and boxes, foreign woods were employed; deal and cedar were imported from Syria; and part of the contributions, exacted from the conquered tribes of Ethiopia, and Asia, consisted in ebony and other rare woods, which were annually brought by the chiefs, deputed to present their country's tribute to the Egyptian Pharaohs.

Boxes, chairs, tables, sofas, and other pieces of furniture were frequently made of ebony, inlaid with ivory, sycamore and acacia, were veneered with thin layers, or ornamented with carved devices of rare wood, applied or let into them; and a fondness for this display suggested to the Egyptians the art of painting common boards, to imitate foreign varieties, so generally adopted in other countries at the present day.

The colors were usually applied on a thin coating of stucco, laid smoothly upon the previously prepared wood, and the various knots and grains painted upon this ground indicated the quality of the wood they intended to counterfeit.

[351]The usual tools of the carpenter were the ax, adze, handsaw, chisels of various kinds (which were struck with a wooden mallet), the drill, and two sorts of planes (one resembling a chisel, the other apparently of stone, acting as a rasp on the surface of the wood, which was afterwards polished by a smooth body, probably also of stone); and these, with the ruler, plummet, and right angle, a leather bag containing nails, the hone, and the horn of oil, constituted the principal, and perhaps the only, implements he used.

Many adzes, saws and chisels, have been found at Thebes. The blades are all of bronze, the handles of the acacia or the tamarisk; and the general mode of fastening the blade to the handle appears to have been by thongs of hide. It is probable that some of those discovered in the tombs are only models, or unfinished specimens, and it may have been thought sufficient to show their external appearance, without the necessity of nailing them, beneath the thongs, for those they worked with were bound in the same manner, though we believe them to have been also secured with nails. Some, however, evidently belonged to the individuals in whose tombs they were buried, and appear to have been used; and the chisels often bear signs of having been beaten with the mallet.

The drill is frequently represented in the sculptures. Like all the other tools, it was of the earliest date, and precisely similar to that of modern Egypt, even to the nut of the dom in which it turned, and the form of its bow with a leathern thong.

The chisel was employed for the same purposes, and in the same manner, as at the present day, and was struck with a wooden mallet, sometimes flat at the two ends, sometimes of circular or oval form; several of which last have been found at Thebes, and are in European museums. The handles of the chisel were of acacia, tamarisk, or other compact wood, the blades of bronze, and the form of the points varied in breadth, according to the work for which they were intended.

[352]The hatchet was principally used by boat-builders, and those who made large pieces of frame-work; and trees were felled with the same instrument.

With the carpenters may be mentioned the wheelwrights, the makers of coffins, and the coopers, and this sub-division of one class of artisans shows that they had systematically adopted the partition of labor.

The makers of chariots and traveling carriages were of the same class; but both carpenters and workers of leather were employed in their manufacture; and chariots either passed through the hands of both, or, which is more probable, chariot makers constituted a distinct trade.

The tanning and preparation of leather was also a branch of art in which the Egyptians evinced considerable skill; the leather cutters constituted one of the principal sub-divisions of the fourth-class, and a district of the city was exclusively appropriated to them, in the Libyan part of Thebes, where they were known as "the leather-cutters of the Memnonia."

Many of the occupations of their trade are portrayed on the painted walls of the tombs at Thebes. They made shoes, sandals, the coverings and seats of chairs or sofas, bow-cases, and most of the ornamental furniture of the chariot; harps were also adorned with colored leather, and shields and numerous other things were covered with skin prepared in various ways. They also make skins for carrying water, wine, and other liquids, coated within with a resinous substance, as is still the custom in Egypt.

The stores of an Egyptian town were probably similar to those of Cairo and other Eastern cities, which consist of a square room, open in front, with falling or sliding shutters to close it at night, and the goods, ranged on shelves or suspended against the walls, are exposed to the view of those who pass. In front is generally a raised seat, where the owner of the shop and his [353]customers sit during the long process of concluding a bargain previous to the sale and purchase of the smallest article, and here an idle lounger frequently passes whole hours, less intent on benefiting the merchant than in amusing himself with the busy scene of the passing crowd.

It is probable that, as at the present day, they ate in the open front of their shops, exposed to the view of every one who passed, and to this custom Herodotus may allude, when he says, "the Egyptians eat in the street."

There is no direct evidence that the ancient Egyptians affixed the name and trade of the owner of the shop, though the presence of hieroglyphics, denoting this last, together with the emblem which indicated it, may seem to argue in favor of the question; and the absence of many individuals' names in the sculpture is readily accounted for by the fact that these scenes refer to the occupation of the whole trade, and not to any particular person.

The high estimation in which the priestly and military professions were held in Egypt placed them far above the rest of the community; but the other classes had also their degrees of consequence, and individuals enjoyed a position and importance in proportion to their respectability, their talents, or their wealth.

According to Herodotus, the whole Egyptian community was divided into seven tribes, one of which was the sacerdotal, another of the soldiers, and the remaining five of the herdsmen, swineherds, merchants, interpreters, and boatmen. Diodorus states that, like the Athenians, they were distributed into three classes—the priests, the peasants, or husbandmen, from whom the soldiers were levied, and the artisans, who were employed in handicraft and other similar occupations, and in common offices among the people—but in another place he extends the number to five, and reckons the pastors, husbandmen, and artificers independent of the soldiers and priests. Strabo limits them to [354]three, the military, husbandmen, and priests; and Plato divides them into six bodies, the priests, artificers, shepherds, huntsmen, husbandmen, and soldiers; each peculiar art or occupation he observes being confined to a certain sub-division of the caste, and every one being engaged in his own branch without interfering with the occupation of another. Hence it appears that the first class consisted of the priests, the second of the soldiers, the third of the husbandmen, gardeners, huntsmen, boatmen of the Nile, and others; the fourth of artificers, tradesmen and merchants, carpenters, boat-builders, masons, and probably potters, public weighers, and notaries; and in the fifth may be reckoned pastors, poulterers, fowlers, fishermen, laborers, and, generally speaking, the common people. Many of these were again sub-divided, as the artificers and tradesmen, according to their peculiar trade or occupation; and as the pastors, into oxherds, shepherds, goatherds, and swineherds, which last were, according to Herodotus, the lowest grade, not only of the class, but of the whole community, since no one would either marry their daughters or establish any family connection with them. So degrading was the occupation of tending swine, that they were looked upon as impure, and were even forbidden to enter a temple without previously undergoing a purification; and the prejudices of the Indians against this class of persons almost justify our belief in the statement of the historian.

Without stopping to inquire into the relative rank of the different sub-divisions of the third class, the importance of agriculture in a country like Egypt, where the richness and productiveness of the soil have always been proverbial, suffices to claim the first place for the husbandmen.

The abundant supply of grain and other produce gave to Egypt advantages which no other country possessed. Not only was her dense population supplied with a profusion of the necessaries of life, but the sale of the surplus conferred considerable [355]benefits on the peasant in addition to the profits which thence accrued to the state, for Egypt was a granary, where, from the earliest times, all people felt sure of finding a plenteous store of corn, and some idea may be formed of the immense quantity produced there from the circumstance of "seven plenteous years" affording, from the superabundance of the crops, a sufficiency of corn to supply the whole population during seven years of dearth, as well as "all countries" which sent to Egypt "to buy" it, when Pharaoh, by the advice of Joseph, laid up the annual surplus for that purpose.

The right of exportation, and the sale of superfluous produce to foreigners, belonged exclusively to the government, as is distinctly shown by the sale of corn to the Israelites from the royal stores, and the collection having been made by Pharaoh only; and it is probable that even the rich landowners were in the habit of selling to government whatever quantity remained on hand at the approach of each successive harvest, while the agricultural laborers, from their frugal mode of living, required very little wheat and barley, and were generally contented, as at the present day, with bread made of the Doora flour; children and even grown persons, according to Diodorus, often living on roots and esculent herbs, as the papyrus, lotus, and others, either raw, toasted, or boiled.

The government did not interfere directly with the peasants respecting the nature of the produce they intended to cultivate; and the vexations of later times were unknown under the Pharaohs. They were thought to have the best opportunities of obtaining, from actual observation, an accurate knowledge on all subjects connected with husbandry, and, as Diodorus observes, "being from their infancy brought up to agricultural pursuits, they far excelled the husbandmen of other countries, and had become acquainted with the capabilities of the land, the mode of irrigation, the exact season for sowing and reaping, as well as [356]all the most useful secrets connected with the harvest, which they had derived from their ancestors, and had improved by their own experience." "They rented," says the same historian, "the arable lands belonging to the kings, the priests, and the military class, for a small sum, and employed their whole time in the tillage of their farms," and the laborers who cultivated land for the rich peasant, or other landed proprietors, were superintended by the steward or owner of the estate, who had authority over them, and the power of condemning delinquents to the bastinado. This is shown by the paintings of the tombs, which frequently represent a person of consequence inspecting the tillage of the field, either seated in a chariot, walking, or leaning on his staff, accompanied by a favorite dog.

Their mode of irrigation was the same in the field of the peasant as in the garden of the villa; and the principal difference in the mode of tilling the former consisted in the use of the plow.

The usual contrivance for raising water from the Nile for watering the crops was the shadoof, or pole and bucket, so common still in Egypt, and even the water-wheel appears to have been employed in more recent times.

The sculptures of the tombs frequently represent canals conveying the water of the inundation into the fields, and the proprietor of the estate is seen, as described by Virgil, plying in a light painted skiff or papyrus punt, and superintending the maintenance of the dykes, or other important matters connected with the land. Boats carry the grain to the granary, or remove the flocks from the lowlands; as the water subsides the husbandman plows the soft earth with a pair of oxen, and the same subjects introduce the offering of first-fruits of the gods in acknowledgment of the benefits conferred by "a favorable Nile." The main canal was usually carried to the upper or southern side of the land, and small branches, leading from it at intervals, traversed the fields in straight or curving lines, according to the nature or elevation of the soil.

[357]Guards were placed to watch the dykes which protected the lowlands, and the utmost care was taken to prevent any sudden influx of water which might endanger the produce still growing there, the cattle, or the villages. And of such importance was the preservation of the dykes that a strong guard of cavalry and infantry was always in attendance for their protection; certain officers of responsibility were appointed to superintend them, being furnished with large sums of money for their maintenance and repairs, and in the time of Romans any person found destroying a dyke was condemned to hard labor in the public works or in the mines, or was branded and transported to the Oasis. According to Strabo, the system was so admirably managed, "that art contrived sometimes to supply what nature denied, and, by means of canals and embankments, there was little difference in the quantity of land irrigated, whether the inundation was deficient or abundant." "If," continues the geographer, "it rose only to the height of eight cubits, the usual idea was that a famine would ensue, fourteen being required for a plentiful harvest; but when Petronius was præfect of Egypt twelve cubits gave the same abundance, nor did they suffer from want even at eight;" and it may be supposed that long experience had taught the ancient Egyptians to obtain similar results from the same means, which, neglected at a subsequent period, were revived, rather than, as Strabo thinks, first introduced, by the Romans.

In some parts of Egypt the villages were liable to be overflowed when the Nile rose to more than an ordinary height, by which the lives and property of the inhabitants were endangered, and when their crude brick houses had been long exposed to the damp the foundations gave way, and the fallen walls, saturated with water, were once more mixed with the mud from which they had been extracted. On these occasions the blessings of the Nile entailed heavy losses on the inhabitants, for, according [358]to Pliny, "if the rise of water exceeded sixteen cubits famine was the result, as when it only reached the height of twelve." In another place he says, "a proper inundation is of sixteen cubits * * * * in twelve cubits the country suffers from famine, and feels a deficiency even in thirteen; fourteen cause joy, fifteen security, sixteen delight; the greatest rise of the river to this period being of eighteen cubits, in the reign of Claudius; the least during the Pharsalic war."

The land being cleared of the water, and presenting in some places a surface of liquid mud, in others nearly dried by the sun and the strong northwest winds (that continue at intervals to the end of Autumn and commencement of Winter), the husbandman prepared the ground to receive the seed, which was either done by the plow and hoe, or by more simple means, according to the nature of the soil, the quality of the produce they intended to cultivate, or the time the land had remained under water.

When the levels were low and the water had continued long upon the land they often dispensed with the plow, and, like their successors, broke up the ground with hoes, or simply dragged the moist mud with bushes after the seed had been thrown upon the surface, and then merely drove a number of cattle, asses, pigs, sheep, or goats into the field to tread in the grain. "In no country," says Herodotus, "do they gather their seed with so little labor. They are not obliged to trace deep furrows with the plow and break the clods, nor to partition out their fields into numerous forms as other people do, but when the river of itself overflows the land, and the water retires again, they sow their fields, driving the pigs over them to tread in the seed, and this being done every one patiently awaits the harvest." On other occasions they used to plow, but were contented, as we are told by Diodorus and Columella, with "tracing slight furrows with light plows on the surface of the land," and [359]others followed with wooden hoes to break the clods of the rich and tenacious soil.

The modern Egyptians sometimes substitute for the hoe a machine called khonfud, "hedgehog," which consists of a cylinder studded with projecting iron pins, to break the clods after the land has been plowed, but this is only used when great care is required in the tillage of the land, and they frequently dispense with the hoe, contenting themselves, also, with the same slight furrows as their predecessors, which do not exceed the depth of a few inches, measuring from the lowest part to the summit of the ridge. It is difficult to say if the modern Egyptians derived the hint of the "hedgehog" from their predecessors, but it is a curious fact that a clod-crushing machine, not very unlike that of Egypt, has only lately been invented in England, which was shown at the Great Exhibition.

The ancient plow was entirely of wood, and of as simple a form as that of modern Egypt. It consisted of a share, two handles, and the pole or beam, which last was inserted into the lower end of the stilt, or the base of the handles, and was strengthened by a rope connecting it with the heel. It had no coulter, nor were wheels applied to any Egyptian plow, but it is probable that the point was shod with a metal sock, either of bronze or iron. It was drawn by two oxen, and the plowman guided and drove them with a long goad, without the assistance of reins, which are used by modern Egyptians. He was sometimes accompanied by another man, who drove the animals, while he managed the two handles of the plow, and sometimes the whip was substituted for the more usual goad.

Cows were occasionally put to the plow, and it may not have been unknown to them that the cow plows quicker than the ox.

The mode of yoking the beasts was exceedingly simple. Across the extremity of the pole, a wooden yoke or cross-bar, [360]about fifty-five inches, or five feet, in length was fastened by a strap lashed backwards and forwards over a prominence projecting from the centre of the yoke, which corresponded to a similar peg, or knob, at the end of the pole, and, occasionally, in addition to these, was a ring passing over them as in some Greek chariots. At either end of the yoke was a flat or slightly concave projection, of semi-circular form, which rested on a pad placed upon the withers of the animal, and through a hole on either side of it passed a thong for suspending the shoulder-pieces which formed the collar. These were two wooden bars, forked at about half their length, padded so as to protect the shoulder from friction, and connected at the lower end by a strong broad band passing under the throat.

Sometimes the draught, instead of being from the withers, was from the head, the yoke being tied to the base of the horns, and in religious ceremonies oxen frequently drew the bier, or the sacred shrine, by a rope fastened to the upper part of the horns, without either yoke or pole.

From a passage in Deuteronomy, "Thou shalt not plow with an ox and an ass together," it might be inferred that the custom of yoking two different animals to the plow was common in Egypt; but it was evidently not so, and the Hebrew lawgiver had probably in view a practice adopted by some of the people of Syria, whose country the Israelites were about to occupy.

The hoe was of wood, like the fork, and many other implements of husbandry, and in form was not unlike the letter A, with one limb shorter than the other, and curving inwards. The longer limb, or handle, was of uniform thickness, round and smooth, sometimes with a knob at the end, and the lower extremity of the blade was of increased breadth, and either terminated in a sharp point, or was rounded at the end. The blade was frequently inserted into the handle, and they were bound together, about the centre, with twisted rope. Being the most [361]common tool, answering for hoe, spade, and pick, it is frequently represented in the sculptures, and several, which were found in the tombs of Thebes, are preserved in the museums of Europe.

The hoe in hieroglyphics stands for the letter M, though the name of this instrument was in Egyptian, as in Arabic, Tore. It forms the commencement of the word Mai, "beloved," and enters into numerous other combinations.

There are no instances of hoes with metal blades, except of very late time, nor is there any proof of the plowshare having been sheathed with metal.

The ax had a metal blade, either bronze or iron, and the peasants are sometimes represented felling trees with this implement, while others are employed in hoeing the field preparatory to its being sown—confirming what we have observed, that the ancient, as well as the modern, Egyptians frequently dispensed with the use of the plow.

The admission of swine into the fields, mentioned by Herodotus, should rather have been before than after they had sown the land, since their habits would do little good to the farmer, and other animals would answer as well for "treading in the grain;" but they may have been used before for clearing the fields of the roots and weeds encouraged by the inundation; and this seems to be confirmed by the herd of pigs with water plants represented in the tombs.

They sometimes used a top dressing of nitrous soil, which was spread over the surface; a custom continued to the present day; but this was confined to certain crops, and principally to those reared late in the year, the fertilizing properties of the alluvial deposit answering all the purposes of the richest manure.

Besides the admixture of nitrous earth the Egyptians made use of other kinds of dressing, and sought for different productions the soils best suited to them. They even took advantage of the edge of the desert for growing the vine and some other [362]plants, which, being composed of clay and sand, was peculiarly adapted to such as required a light soil, and the cultivation of this additional tract, which only stood in need of proper irrigation to become highly productive, had the advantage of increasing considerably the extent of the arable land of Egypt. In many places we still find evidence of its having been tilled by the ancient inhabitants, even to the late time of the Roman empire; and in some parts of the Fyoom the vestiges of beds and channels for irrigation, as well as the roots of vines, are found in sites lying far above the level of the rest of the country.

The occupation of the husbandman depended much on the produce he had determined on rearing. Those who solely cultivated corn had little more to do than to await the time of harvest, but many crops required constant attention, and some stood in need of frequent artificial irrigation.

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[363]

Baking, Dyeing and Painting.

The fame of an actor has been justly said to be of all fame the most perishable, because he leaves no memorial of his powers, except in the fading memories of the generation which has beheld him. An analogous proposition might be made with respect to the mechanical arts: of all sorts of knowledge they are the most perishable, because the knowledge of them can not be transmitted by mere description. Let any great convulsion of nature put an end to their practice for a generation or two, and though the scientific part of them may be preserved in books, the skill in manipulation, acquired by a long series of improvements, is lost. If the United States be destined to relapse into such a state of barbarism as Italy passed through in the period which divides ancient and modern history, its inhabitants a thousand years hence will know little more of the manual process of printing, dyeing, and the other arts which minister to our daily comfort, in spite of all the books which have been and shall be written, than we know of the manual processes of ancient Italy. We reckon, therefore, among the most interesting discoveries of Pompeii, those which relate to the manner of conducting handicrafts, of which it is not too much to say that we know nothing except through this medium. It is to be regretted, that as far as our information goes, there are but two trades on which any light has yet been thrown, those, namely, of the baker and the dyer. We shall devote this chapter to collecting what is known upon these subjects, and probably also speak some on painting.

[364]Several bakers' shops have been found, all in a tolerable state of preservation. The mills, the oven, the kneading-troughs, the vessels for containing flour, water, leaven, have all been discovered, and seem to leave nothing wanting to our knowledge; in some of the vessels the very flour remained, still capable of being identified, though reduced almost to a cinder. But in the centre some lumps of whitish matter resembling chalk remained, which, when wetted and placed on a red-hot iron, gave out the peculiar color which flour thus treated emits. Even the very bread, in a perfect though carbonized form, has in some instances been found in the oven. One of these bakers' shops was attached to the House of Sallust, another to the House of Pansa: probably they were worth a handsome rent. A third, which we select for description, for one will serve perfectly as a type for the whole, seems to have belonged to a man of higher class, a sort of capitalist; for, instead of renting a mere dependency of another man's house, he lived in a tolerably good house of his own, of which the bakery forms a part. It stands next to the House of Sallust, on the south side, being divided from it only by a narrow street. Its front is in the main street or Via Consularis, leading from the gate of Herculaneum to the Forum. Entering by a small vestibule, the visitor finds himself in a tetrastyle atrium (a thing not common at Pompeii), of ample dimensions, considering the character of the house, being about thirty-six feet by thirty. The pillars which supported the ceiling are square and solid, and their size, combined with indications observed in a fragment of the entablature, led Mazois to suppose that, instead of a roof, they had been surmounted by a terrace. The impluvium is marble. At the end of the atrium is what would be called a tablinum in the house of a man of family, through which we enter the bake-house, which is at the back of the house, and opens into the smaller street, which, diverging from the main street at the fountain by Pansa's house, runs up straight to the city walls. The atrium is surrounded by different apartments, offering abundant accommodation, but such as we need not stop to describe.

[365]

[366]The work-room is about thirty-three feet long by twenty-six. The centre is occupied by four stone mills, exactly like those found in the other two stores, for all the bakers ground their own flour. To give more room they are placed diagonally, so as to form, not a square, but a lozenge. Mazois was present at the excavation of this house, and saw the mills at the moment of their discovery, when the iron-work, though entirely rust-eaten, was yet perfect enough to explain satisfactorily the method of construction. This will be best understood from the following representation, one half of which is an elevation, the other half a section. The cut on page 365 gives some idea of them.

The base is a cylindrical stone, about five feet in diameter and two feet high. Upon this, forming part of the same block, or else firmly fixed into it, is a conical projection about two feet high, the sides slightly curving inwards. Upon this there rests another block, externally resembling a dice-box, internally an hour-glass, being shaped into two hollow cones with their vertices towards each other, the lower one fitting the conical surface on which it rests, though not with any degree of accuracy. To diminish friction, however, a strong iron pivot was inserted in the top of the solid cone, and a corresponding socket let into the narrow part of the hour-glass. Four holes were cut through the stone parallel to this pivot. The narrow part was hooped on the outside with iron, into which wooden bars were inserted, by means of which the upper stone was turned upon its pivot, by the labor of men or asses. The upper hollow cone served as a hopper, and was filled with corn, which fell by degrees through the four holes upon the solid cone, and was reduced to powder by friction between the two rough surfaces. Of course it worked its way to the bottom by degrees, and fell out on the cylindrical base, round which a channel was cut to facilitate the collection. [367]These machines are about six feet high in the whole, made of a rough gray volcanic stone, full of large crystals of leucite. Thus rude, in a period of high refinement and luxury, was one of the commonest and most necessary machines—thus careless were the Romans of the amount of labor wasted in preparing an article of daily and universal consumption. This, probably, arose in chief from the employment of slaves, the hardness of whose task was little cared for; while the profit and encouragement to enterprise on the part of the professional baker was proportionately diminished, since every family of wealth probably prepared its bread at home. But the same inattention to the useful arts runs through everything that they did. Their skill in working metals was equal to ours; nothing can be more beautiful than the execution of tripods, lamps, and vases, nothing coarser than their locks; while at the same time the door-handles, bolts, etc., which were seen, are often exquisitely wrought. To what cause can this sluggishness be referred? At present we see that a material improvement in any article, though so trifling as a corkscrew or pencil-case, is pretty sure to make the fortune of some man, though unfortunately that man is very often not the inventor. Had the encouragement to industry been the same, the result would have been the same. Articles of luxury were in high request, and of them the supply was first-rate. But the demands of a luxurious nobility would never have repaid any man for devoting his attention to the improvement of mills or perfecting smith's work, and there was little general commerce to set ingenuity at work. Italy imported largely both agricultural produce and manufactures in the shape of tribute from a conquered world, and probably exported part of her peculiar productions; but we are not aware that there is any ground for supposing that she manufactured goods for exportation to any extent.

Originally mills were turned by hand, (many establishments may still be seen in the streets of Naples for grinding corn by [368]means of a hand-mill, turned by a man. Such flour-shops have always a picture of the Madonna inside,) and this severe labor seems, in all half-savage times, to have been conducted by women. It was so in Egypt; it was so in Greece in the time of Homer, who employs fifty females in the house of Alcinous upon this service. It was so in Palestine in the time of the Evangelists, and in England in the fourteenth and sixteenth centuries. We find a passage of St. Matthew thus rendered by Wicliffe: "Two wymmen schulen (shall) be grinding in one querne," or hand-mill; and Harrison the historian, two centuries later, says that his wife ground her malt at home upon her quern. Among the Romans poor freemen used sometimes to hire themselves out to the service of the mill when all other resources failed; and Plautus is said to have done so, being reduced to the extreme of poverty, and to have composed his comedies while thus employed. This labor, however, fell chiefly upon slaves, and is represented as being the severest drudgery which they had to undergo. Those who had been guilty of any offense were sent to the mill as a punishment, and sometimes forced to work in chains. Asses, however, were used by those who could afford it. That useful animal seems to have been employed in the establishment we are describing, for the fragment of a jaw-bone, with several teeth in it, was found in a room which seems to have been the stable; and the floor about the mill is paved with rough pieces of stone, while in the rest of the rooms it is made of stucco or compost. The use of water-mills, however, was not unknown to the Romans. Vitruvius describes their construction in terms not inapplicable to the mechanism of a common mill of the present day, and other ancient authors refer to them. "Set not your hands to the mill, O women that turn the millstone! sleep sound though the cock's crow announce the dawn, for Ceres has charged the nymphs with the labors which employed your arms. These, dashing from the summit of a wheel, make [369]its axle revolve, which, by the help of moving radii, sets in action the weight of four hollow mills. We taste anew the life of the first men, since we have learnt to enjoy, without fatigue, the produce of Ceres."

In the centre of the pier, at the back, is the aperture to the cistern by which the water used in making bread was supplied. On each side are vessels to hold the water. On the pier above is a painting, divided horizontally into two compartments. The figures in the upper ones are said to represent the worship of the goddess Fornax, the goddess of the oven, which seems to have been deified solely for the advantages which it possessed over the old method of baking on the hearth. Below, two guardian serpents roll towards an altar crowned with a fruit very much like a pine-apple; while above, two little birds are in chase of large flies. These birds, thus placed in a symbolical picture, may be considered, in perfect accordance with the spirit of ancient mythology, as emblems of the genii of the place, employed in driving those troublesome insects from the bread.

The oven is on the left. It is made with considerable attention to economy of heat. The real oven is enclosed in a sort of ante-oven, which had an aperture in the top for the smoke to escape. The hole in the side is for the introduction of dough, which was prepared in the adjoining room, and deposited through that hole upon the shovel with which the man in front placed it in the oven. The bread, when baked, was conveyed to cool in a room the other side of the oven, by a similar aperture. Beneath the oven is an ash-pit. To the right is a large room which is conjectured to have been a stable. The jaw-bone above mentioned and some other fragments of a skeleton were found in it. There is a reservoir for water at the further end, which passes through the wall, and is common both to this room and the next, so that it could be filled without going into the stable. The further room is fitted up with stone basins, which seem to [370]have been the kneading-troughs. It contains also a narrow and inconvenient staircase.

Though corn-bread formed the principal article of nourishment among the Italians, the use of bread itself was not of early date. For a long time the Romans used their corn sodden into pap, and there were no bakers in Rome antecedent to the war against Perseus, king of Macedonia, about B.C. 580. Before this every house made its own bread, and this was the task of the women, except in great houses, where there were men-cooks. And even after the invention of bread it was long before the use of mills was known, but the grain was bruised in mortars. Hence the names pistor and pistrinum, a baker and baker's shop, which are derived from pinsere, to pound. The oven also was of late introduction, as we have hinted in speaking of the goddess Fornax, nor did it ever come into exclusive use. We hear of bread baked under the ashes; baked in the bread-pan, which was probably of the nature of a Dutch oven; and other sorts, named either from the nature of their preparation or the purpose to which they were to be applied. The finest sort was called siligineus, and was prepared from the best and whitest sort of wheaten flour. A bushel of the best wheat of Campania, which was of the first quality, containing sixteen sextarii, yielded four sextarii of siligo, here seemingly used for the finest flour; half a bushel of flos, bolted flour; four sextarii of cibarium, seconds; and four sextarii of bran; thus giving an excess of four sextarii. Their loaves appear to have been very often baked in moulds, several of which have been found; these may possibly be artoptæ, and the loaves thus baked, artopticii. Several of these loaves have been found entire. They are flat, and about eight inches in diameter. One in the Neapolitan Museum has a stamp on the top:—

SILIGO · CRANII
E · CICER

[371]This has been interpreted to mean that cicer (vetch) was mixed with the flour. We know from Pliny that the Romans used several sorts of grain. The cut below gives an idea of their form.

In front of the house, one on each side the doorway, there are two shops. Neither of these has any communication with the house; it is inferred, therefore, that they were let out to others, like the shops belonging to more distinguished persons. This supposition is the more probable because none of the bakeries found have shops attached to them, and there is a painting in the grand work on Herculaneum, Le Pitture d'Ercolano, which represents a bread-seller established in the Forum, with his goods on a little table in the open air.

There is only one trade, so far as we are aware, with respect to the practices of which any knowledge has been gained from the excavations at Pompeii—that of fulling and scouring cloth. This art, owing to the difference of ancient and modern habits, was of much greater importance formerly than it now is. Wool was almost the only material used for dresses in the earlier times of Rome, silk being unknown till a late period, and linen garments being very little used. Woolen dresses, however, especially in the hot climate of Italy, must often have required a thorough purification, and on the manner in which this was done of course their beauty very much depended. And since the toga, the chief article of Roman costume, was woven in one piece, and was of course expensive, to make it look [372]and wear as well as possible was very necessary to persons of small fortune. The method pursued has been described by Pliny and others, and is well illustrated in some paintings found upon the wall of a building, which evidently was a fullonica, or scouring-house. The building in question is entered from the Street of Mercury, and is situated in the same island as the House of the Tragic Poet.

The first operation was that of washing, which was done with water mixed with some detergent clay, or fuller's earth; soap does not appear to have been used. This was done in vats, where the clothes were trodden and well worked by the feet of the scourer. The painting on the walls of the Fullonica represents four persons thus employed. Their dress is tucked up, leaving their legs bare; it consists of two tunics, the under one being yellow and the upper green. Three of them seem to have done their work, and to be wringing the articles on which they have been employed; the other, his hands resting on the wall on each side, is jumping, and busily working about the contents of his vat. When dry, the cloth was brushed and carded, to raise the nap—at first with metal cards, afterwards with thistles. A plant called teazle is now largely cultivated in England for the same purpose. The cloth was then fumigated with sulphur, and bleached in the sun by throwing water repeatedly upon it while spread out on gratings. In the painting the workman is represented as brushing or carding a tunic suspended over a rope. Another man carries a frame and pot, meant probably for fumigation and bleaching; the pot containing live coals and sulphur, and being placed under the frame, so that the cloths spread upon the latter would be fully exposed to the action of the pent-up vapor. The person who carries these things wears something on his head, which is said to be an olive garland. If so, that, and the owl sitting upon the frame, probably indicate that the establishment was under the patronage of Minerva, the tutelary [373]goddess of the loom. Another is a female examining the work which a young girl has done upon a piece of yellow cloth. A golden net upon her head, and a necklace and bracelets, denote a person of higher rank than one of the mere workpeople of the establishment; it probably is either the mistress herself, or a customer inquiring into the quality of the work which has been done for her.

These pictures, with others illustrative of the various processes of the art, were found upon a pier in the peristyle of the Fullonica. Among them we may mention one that represents a press, similar in construction to those now in use, except that there is an unusual distance between the threads of the screw. The ancients, therefore, were acquainted with the practical application of this mechanical power. In another is to be seen a youth delivering some pieces of cloth to a female, to whom, perhaps, the task of ticketing, and preserving distinct the different property of different persons, was allotted. It is rather a curious proof of the importance attached to this trade, that the due regulation of it was a subject thought not unworthy of legislative enactments. B.C. 354, the censors laid down rules for regulating the manner of washing dresses, and we learn from the digests of the Roman law that scourers were compelled to use the greatest care not to lose or to confound property. Another female, seated on a stool, seems occupied in cleaning one of the cards. Both of the figures last described wear green tunics; the first of them has a yellow under-tunic, the latter a white one. The resemblance in colors between these dresses and those of the male fullers above described may perhaps warrant a conjecture that there was some kind of livery or described dress belonging to the establishment, or else the contents of the painter's color-box must have been very limited.

The whole pier on which these paintings were found has been removed to the museum at Naples. In the peristyle was a [374]large earthenware jar, which had been broken across the middle and the pieces then sewed carefully and laboriously together with wire. The value of these vessels, therefore, can not have been very small, though they were made of the most common clay. At the eastern end of the peristyle there was a pretty fountain, with a jet d'eau. The western end is occupied by four large vats in masonry, lined with stucco, about seven feet deep, which seem to have received the water in succession, one from another.

Dyeing and painting in ancient times was rather more perfect than at present, at least the colors were stronger and more durable. The Egyptians had the most durable colors. The Henna is a plant which is abundant in Egypt, Arabia, and Palestine, and was used by the ancients, as it is by the moderns, for dyeing. The leaves were dried and pulverized, and then made into a paste. It is a powerful astringent dye, and is applied to desiccate and dye the palms of the hands and soles of the feet and nails of both, and gives a sort of dun or rust color to animal tissues, which is very permanent.

It is stated that when sal-ammoniac and lime were put upon the colored parts they changed to a dark greenish-blue color, and passed on to black, probably from the sal-ammoniac containing iron which would give this result.

The Tyrian ladies dyed rings and stars upon their persons. Men gave a black dye to the hair of their heads and beards. The dyeing of the nails with henna is a very ancient custom. Some of the old Egyptian mummies are so dyed. It is supposed that the Jewish women also followed this custom. Reference is made to it in Deuteronomy, where the newly-married wife is desired to stain her nails. Also, in the Song of Solomon, Camphire, in the authorized version, is said to mean henna, which has finely-scented flowers growing in bunches, and the leaves of the plant are used by women to impart a reddish stain to their nails.

[375]Speaking of the Arabian women at the present day, Dr. Thomson, in "The Land and the Book," says: "They paint their cheeks, putting tahl around their eyes, arching their eyebrows with the same, and stain their hands and feet with henna thus to deck themselves, and should an unmarried woman do so, an impression is conveyed highly injurious to the girl's character."

Galls are named among the substances known to the ancients, but we can not find whether they were used as a dyeing agent. Wilkinson says that tanning was in Egypt a subdivision of dyeing, and it is mentioned that copperas with galls dyed leather black; and there can be little doubt that galls were used for a similar purpose in ordinary dyeing. The Myrobollans and several sorts of barks and pods of the Acacia nilotica were also used for tanning, from their astringent properties, and may have been similarly used for dyeing.

These are a few of the principal coloring matters used by dyers in ancient times. There is a little confusion with respect to some of the salts mentioned as having been used by them, especially the alkaline salts—a circumstance, however, not to be wondered at. In more modern times there is a similar confusion on this same head.

When nitre, for instance, is burned with carbonaceous matter, the product is carbonate of potash. The ashes left by burning wood contain the same salt. The ashes left by burning sea-weed produce carbonate of soda. When nitre is burned with sulphur, the product is sulphate of potash, etc. These have all been called generically, even in modern times, nitre, having each a certain prefix well understood by the adept, or chemist, of the day.

We think it probable that all these processes for making the different salts were practiced in ancient times, but now having only the generic name nitre given us by historians, we can not understand exactly when nitre is mentioned which of the nitres is meant.

[376]When Solomon speaks of the action of vinegar upon nitre, the chemist understands that the salt referred to is a carbonate, but when the nature of the action or application is not given, we have no idea what particular salt is meant. There is no doubt, however, that the ancients were well acquainted with the alkaline salts of potash and soda, and applied them in the arts. The metallic salts of iron, copper, and alumina were well known, and their application to dyeing was generally the same as at the present day. That they were used both as mordants and alterants is evident from several references.

A very suggestive statement is made by Pliny about the ancient Egyptians. "They began," says he, "by painting or drawing on white cloths with certain drugs, which in themselves possessed no color, but had the property of attracting or absorbing coloring matter, after which these cloths were immersed in a heated dyeing liquor; and although they were colorless before, and although this dyeing liquor was of one equable and uniform color, yet when taken out of it soon afterwards, the cloth was found to be wonderfully tinged of different colors according to the peculiar nature of the several drugs which had been applied to their respective parts, and these colors could not be afterwards discharged by washing."

Herodotus states that certain people who lived near the Caspian Sea could, by means of leaves of trees which they bruised and steeped in water, form on cloth the figures of animals, flowers, etc., which were as lasting as the cloth itself. This statement is more suggestive than instructive.

Persia was much famed for dyeing at a very early period, and dyeing is still held in great esteem in that country. Persian dyers have chosen Christ as their patron; and Bischoff says that they at present call a dye-house Christ's workshop, from a tradition they have that He was of that profession. They have a legend, probably founded upon what Pliny tells of the Egyptian [377]dyers, "that Christ being put apprentice to a dyer, His master desired Him to dye some pieces of cloth of different colors; He put them all into a boiler, and when the dyer took them out he was terribly frightened on finding that each had its proper color."

This or a similar legend occurs in the apocryphal book entitled "The First Gospel of the Infancy of Jesus Christ." The following is the passage:

Tin.—We have no positive evidence as to whether the ancients used oxide, or the salts of tin, in their dyeing operations. A modern dyer could hardly produce permanent tints with some of the dye drugs named without tin salts. We know that the ancients used the oxides of tin for glazing pottery and painting; they may therefore have used salts of tin in their dyeing operations. However, they had another salt—sulphate of alumina—which produces similar results, although the moderns in most cases prefer tin, as it makes a more brilliant and permanent tint.

Alum.—This is what is termed a double salt, and is composed of sulphate of alumina and sulphate of potash. The process of manufacturing it in this country is by subjecting clay slate containing iron pyrites to a calcination, when the sulphur with the iron is oxidized, becoming sulphuric acid, which, combining with the alumina of the clay, and also with the iron, becomes sulphate of alumina and iron; to this is added a salt of [378]potash, which, combining with the sulphate of alumina, forms the double salt alum. Soda or ammonia may be substituted for potash with similar results; the alum is crystallized from the solution. That the ancients were acquainted with this double salt has been disputed, but we think there can be no doubt of its existence and use at a very early period. A very pure alum is produced in volcanic districts by the action of sulphurous acid and oxygen on felspathic rocks, and used by the ancients for different purposes. Pliny mentions Alumine, which he describes as white, and used for whitening wool, also for dyeing wool of bright colors. Occasionally he confounds this salt with a mixture of sulphate of alumina and iron, which, in all probability, was alum containing iron, the process of separation not being perfect; and he mentions that this kind of alumen blackens on the application of nut-galls, showing that iron was in it. Pliny says of alumen, that it is "understood to be a sort of brine which exudes from the earth; of this, too, there are several kinds. In Cyprus there is a white alumen, and another kind of a darker color; the uses of these are very dissimilar, the white liquid alumen being employed for dyeing a whole bright color, and the darker, on the other hand, for giving wool a tawny or sombre tint." This is very characteristic of a pure aluminous mordant, and of one containing iron. He also mentions that this dark alumen was used for purifying gold. He must be referring here to its quality of giving gold a rich color. The liquid of this iron alumen, if put upon light-colored gold, and heated over a fire, gives it a very rich tint; a process practiced still for the same purpose. So far, however, as the application to dyeing is concerned, it is unnecessary to prove that the ancients used our double salt alum. Probably the alumen referred to by Pliny, as exuding from the earth, was sulphate of alumina, without potash or soda, a salt not easily crystallized, but as effective, in many cases more effective, in the operations of dyeing, as alum, which [379]is attested by the preference given to this salt over alum for many purposes at the present day. Pliny says that alumen was a product of Spain, Egypt, Armenia, Macedonia, Pontus, Africa, and the Islands of Sardinia, Melos, Lipara, and Strangyle, and that the most esteemed is that of Egypt. And Herodotus mentions that King Amasis of Egypt sent the people of Delphi a thousand talents of this substance, as his contribution toward the rebuilding of their temple. Notwithstanding considerable confusion in Pliny's account of this substance, our belief is, that it refers to different salts of alumina, and whether or not they were all used in the processes of dyeing, they were used for manufacturing purposes, and thus gives us some insight to the advanced state of the arts in those times.

Respecting the cost and durability of the Tyrian purple, it is related that Alexander the Great found in the treasury of the Persian monarch 5,000 quintals of Hermione purple of great beauty, and 180 years old, and that it was worth $125 of our money per pound weight. The price of dyeing a pound of wool in the time of Augustus is given by Pliny, and this price is equal to about $160 of our money. It is probable that his remarks refer to some particular tint or quality of color easily distinguished, although not at all clearly defined by Pliny. He mentions a sort of purple, or hyacinth, which was worth, in the time of Julius Cæsar, 100 denarii (about $15 of our money) per pound.

Since, according to our modern researches into this dye, one fish, the common Purpura lapillus, produces only about one drop of the liquor, then it would take about 10,000 fish to dye 1 lb. of wool, so that $160 is not extravagant.

Spinning and weaving in ancient times were principally performed by women; indeed, the words woof, weaving, and web are allied to the word wife. However, in ancient Egypt and in India men also wrought at the loom. Probably nothing could [380]be simpler or ruder than the looms used by ancient weavers. Were we to compare these with the looms and other weaving apparatus of the present day, and reason therefrom that as the loom so must have been the cloth produced thereon, we would make a very great mistake. There are few arts which illustrate with equal force our argument in favor of the perfection of ancient art so well as this of weaving. It would appear that our advancement is not so much in the direction of quality as in that of quantity. There are few things we can do which were not done by the ancients equally perfect. Rude as were their looms in ancient Egypt, they produced the far-famed linen so often mentioned in Scripture and the writings of other nations. In order to show that this is not to be regarded as a merely comparative term applicable to a former age, we will here quote from G. Wilkinson respecting some mummy-cloths examined by the late Mr. Thomson, of Clithero:—"My first impression on seeing these cloths was, that the first kinds were muslins, and of Indian manufacture; but this suspicion of their being cotton was soon removed by the microscope. Some were thin and transparent, and of delicate texture, and the finest had 140 threads to the inch in the warp." Some cloth Mr. Wilkinson found in Thebes had 152 threads to the inch in the warp, but this is coarse when compared with a piece of linen cloth found in Memphis, which had 540 threads to the inch of the warp. How fine must these threads have been! In quoting this extract from Wilkinson to an old weaver, he flatly said it was impossible, as no reed could be made so fine. However, there would be more threads than one in the split, and by adopting this we can make cloth in our day having between 400 and 500 in the inch. However, the ancient cloths are much finer in the warp than woof, probably from want of appliance for driving the threads of the weft close enough, as they do not appear to have lays as we have for this purpose. Pliny refers to the remains of a linen [381]corselet, presented by Amasis, king of Egypt, to the Rhodians, each thread of which was composed of 365 fibres: "Herodotus mentions this corselet, and another presented by Amasis to the Lacedæmonians, which had been carried off by the Samians. It was of linen, ornamented with numerous figures of animals worked in gold and cotton. Each thread of the corselet was worthy of admiration, for though very fine, every one was composed of 360 other threads all distinct." No doubt this kind of thread was symbolical. It was probably something of this sort that Moses refers to when he mentions the material of which the corselet or girdle of the high priest was made—the fine twined linen. Jewish women are represented in the Old Testament as being expert in the art of spinning.

Ancient Babylon was also celebrated for her cloth manufacture and embroidery work, and to be the possessor of one of these costly garments was no ordinary ambition. It is not to be wondered at that when Achan saw amongst the spoils of Jericho a goodly Babylonish garment he "coveted it and took it." The figure represented on the ancient seal of Urukh has, says Rawlinson, fringed garments delicately striped, indicating an advanced condition of this kind of manufacture five or six centuries before Joshua. It may be mentioned, however, that such manufactures were in ancient times, especially in Egypt, national. Time was of little importance, labor was plentiful, and no craftsman was allowed to scheme, or plan, or introduce any change, but was expected to aim at the perfection of the operation he was engaged in, and this led to perfection every branch. Every trade had its own quarters in the city or nation, and the locality was named after the trade, such as goldsmiths' quarters, weavers' quarters, etc. This same rule seems to have been practised by the Hebrews after their settlement in Palestine, for we find such names in Scripture as the Valley of Craftsmen. We also find that certain trades continued in families; passages such as the [382]following are frequent—"The father of those who were craftsmen," and "The father of Mereshah, a city, and of the house of those who wrought fine linen;" and again, "The men of Chozeba, and Joash, and Saraph, who had the dominion of Moab and Jashubalahem, these were potters, and those that dwelt among plants and hedges, and did the king's work." In ancient Egypt every son was obliged to follow the same trade as his father. Thus caste was formed. Whether this same was carried out in Babylon, Persia, and Greece, we do not know; but certainly, in these nations there were in all cases officers directing the operations, and overseers, to whom these again were responsible, so that every manufacturing art was carried on under strict surveillance, and to the highest state of perfection. As the possession of artistic work was an object of ambition amongst the wealthy or favored portion of the community, it led to emulation among the workers. Professor Rawlinson, in his "Five Ancient Monarchies," speaks of the Persians emulating with each other in the show they could make of their riches and variety of artistic products. This emulation led both to private and public exhibitions. One of those exhibitions, which lasted over a period of six months, is referred to in the Old Testament; so when we opened our Great Exhibition in 1876 we were only resuscitating a system common in ancient times, the event recorded in the Book of Esther having happened at least 2,200 years before:

[383]This must have been a magnificent exhibition. The number attending this feast is not ascertainable; but, if the princes and nobles of the provinces (the provinces were 127 in number), and all the officers and great men of Persia and Media, and the servants of the palace, great and small, were there, it must have formed an immense company. Now, as every one drank out of a golden cup of a different pattern, we obtain an idea of profusion in art of which we can form but a very limited conception. This fact indicates that variety of pattern was an object sought after—a fashion fostering and favoring the development of art and design, and worthy of being emulated in the present day.

Speaking of the Persians, Professor Rawlinson says that the richer classes seem to have followed the court in their practices. In their costume they wore long purple or flowered robes, with loose-hanging sleeves, flowered tunics reaching to the knee, also sleeved, embroidered trowsers, tiaras, and shoes of a more elegant shape than the ordinary Persian. Under their trowsers they wore drawers, and under their tunics shirts, and under their shoes stockings or socks. In their houses their couches were spread with gorgeous coverlets, and their floors with rich carpets—habits that must have necessitated an immense labor and skill, and indicate great knowledge in the manufacture of textile fabrics.

Among the great historic nations of antiquity, the chief consumption of copper and tin was in the manufacture of bronze; and the quantities of these metals necessary for the purpose must have been very great, for bronze seems to have been the principal metallic substance of which articles both of utility and art were formed. Wilkinson, Layard, and others, found bronze articles in abundance amongst the debris of all the ancient civilizations to which their researches extend, proving that the manufacture of this alloy was widely known at a very early period; and strange to say, when we consider the applications of some of the tools [384]found, we are forced to the conclusion that the bronze of which they were made must originally have been in certain important particulars superior to any which we can produce at the present day. In these researches were found carpenters' and masons' tools, such as saws, chisels, hammers, etc., and also knives, daggers, swords, and other instruments which require both a fine hard edge and elasticity. Were we to make such tools now, they would be useless for the purpose to which the ancients applied them. Wilkinson says: "No one who has tried to perforate or cut a block of Egyptian granite will scruple to acknowledge that our best steel tools are turned in a very short time, and require to be re-tempered; and the labor experienced by the French engineers who removed the obelisk of Luxor from Thebes, in cutting a space less than two feet deep along the face of its partially decomposed pedestal, suffices to show that, even with our excellent modern implements, we find considerable difficulty in doing what to the Egyptians would have been one of the least arduous tasks."

But Wilkinson believes that bronze chisels were used for cutting granite, as he found one at Thebes, of which he says, "Its point is instantly turned by striking it against the very stone it was used to cut; and yet, when found, the summit was turned over by blows it had received from the mallet, while the point was intact, as if it had recently left the hands of the smith who made it."

"Another remarkable feature in their bronze," says the same author, "is the resistance it offers to the effects of the atmosphere—some continuing smooth and bright though buried for ages, and since exposed to the damp European climate. They had also the secret of covering the surface with a rich patina of dark or light green, or other color, by applying acids to it."

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[385]

TROY.ToC

As Excavated by Dr. Schliemann.

No words can describe the interest which belongs to such a contribution to the history of the world as the discovery of Troy by Dr. Schliemann. The belief of a large part of the classic world for centuries has been embodied in a saying quite common among the Greeks: "I know of but one Ilion, and that is the Ilion as sung by Homer, which is not to be found except among the muses who dwell on Olympus." To-day is given to the world a description of the fire-scathed ruins of that city whose fate inspired the immortal first-fruits of Greek poetry, and from these remains are brought to light thousands of facts bearing upon the origin and history of the inhabitants, and illustrating their religion and language, their wealth and civilization. He has supplied the missing link, long testified by tradition as well as poetry, between the famous Greeks and their kindred in the East.

The satisfaction which the discovery of Troy gives to the Greeks especially is, perhaps, nearly commensurate with the joy that a discovery would bring to the Christian which would so confirm the truth of the Bible as to forever silence its critics and the skepticism of the day. The Iliad was the Greek Bible, and every page of it was full of accounts of Troy, its people and its [386]heroes. It was the ultimate standard of appeal on all matters of religious doctrine and early history. It was learned by the boys at school. It was the study of men in their riper years, and even in the time of Socrates there were Athenian gentlemen who could repeat both the Iliad and Odyssey by heart. In whatever part of the ancient world a Greek settled he carried with him a love for the great poet, just as much as the Christian family takes the Bible to its new frontier home. No work of profane literature has exercised so wide and long-continued an influence.

The site of Troy is upon a plateau on the eastern shore of the Ægean Sea, about 4 miles from the coast and 4½ miles southeast from the port of Sigeum. The plateau lies on an average about 80 feet above the plain, and descending very abruptly on the north side. Its northwestern corner is formed by a hill about 26 feet higher still, which is about 705 feet in breadth and 984 in length, and from its imposing situation and natural fortifications this hill of Hissarlik seems specially suited to be the Acropolis of the town.

Like the other great Oriental capitals of the Old World, the present condition of Troy is that of a mound, such as those in the plain of the Tigris and Euphrates, offering for ages the invitation to research, which has only been accepted and rewarded in our own day. The resemblance is so striking as to raise a strong presumption that, as the mounds of Nimrud and Hillah have been found to contain the palaces of the Assyrian and Babylonian kings, so we may accept the ruins found in the mound of Hissarlik as those of the capital of that primeval empire in Asia Minor.

As the mounds opened by Layard and his fellow laborers contained only the "royal quarters," which towered above the rude buildings of cities, the magnitude of which is attested by abundant proofs, so it is reasonable to believe that the ruins at [387]Hissarlik are those of the royal quarter, the only really permanent part of the city built on the hill capping the lower plateau which lifted the huts of the common people above the marshes and inundations of the Scamander and the Simois. In both cases the fragile dwellings of the multitude have perished, and the pottery and other remains, which were left in the surface of the plateau of Ilium, would naturally be cleared away by the succeeding settlers. Homer's poetical exaggeration exalted the mean dwellings that clustered about the acropolis into the "well-built city" with her "wide streets."

The erroneous theory which assigns Troy to the heights of Bunarbashi could, in fact, never have gained ground, had its advocates employed the few hours which they spent on the heights, and in Bunarbashi itself, in making small holes, with the aid of even a single workman. No one can conceive how it is possible that the solution of the great problem, "ubi Troja fait"—which is surely one of the greatest interest to the whole civilized world—should have been treated so superficially that, after a few hours' visit to the Plain of Troy, men have sat down at home and written voluminous works to defend a theory, the worthlessness of which they would have perceived had they but made excavations for a single hour.

The view from the hill of Hissarlik is extremely magnificent. Before it lies the glorious Plain of Troy, which is covered with grass and yellow buttercups; on the north northwest, at about an hour's distance, it is bounded by the Hellespont. The peninsula of Gallipoli here runs out to a point, upon which stands a lighthouse. To the left of it is the island of Imbros, above which rises Mount Ida of the island of Samothrace, at present covered with snow; a little more to the west, on the Macedonian peninsula, lies the celebrated Mount Athos, or Monte Santo, with its monasteries, at the northwestern side of which there are still to be seen traces of that great canal, which, according to [388]Herodotus (vii. 22, 23), was made by Xerxes, in order to avoid sailing round the stormy Cape Athos.

Returning to the Plain of Troy we see to the right of it, upon a spur of the promontory of Rhœteum, the sepulchral mound of Ajax, at the foot of the opposite Cape of Sigeum that of Patroclus, and upon a spur of the same cape the sepulchre of Achilles; to the left of the latter, on the promontory itself, is the Village of Yenishehr. The Plain, which is about two hours' journey in breadth, is thence bounded on the west by the shores of the Ægean, which are, on an average, about 131 feet high, and upon which we see first the sepulchral mound of Festus, the confidential friend of Caracalla, whom the Emperor (according to Herodian IV.) caused to be poisoned on his visit to Ilium, that he might be able to imitate the funeral rites which Achilles celebrated in honor of his friend Patroclus, as described by Homer. Then upon the same coast there is another sepulchral mound, called Udjek-Tepe, rather more than 78½ feet in height, which most archæologists consider to be that of the old man Æsyetes, from which Polites, trusting to the swiftness of his feet, watched to see when the Greek army would set forth from the ships.

Between the last-named mounds we see projecting above the high shores of the Ægean Sea the island of Tenedos, to which the crafty Greeks withdrew their fleet when they pretended to abandon the siege. To the south we see the Plain of Troy, extending again to a distance of two hours, as far as the heights of Bunarbashi, above which rises majestically the snow-capped Gargarus of Mt. Ida, from which Jupiter witnessed the battles between the Trojans and the Greeks.

[389]One of the greatest difficulties has been to make the enormous accumulation of debris at Troy agree with chronology; and in this Dr. Schliemann only partially succeeded. According to Herodotus (vii. 43): "Xerxes in his march through the Troad, before invading Greece (B.C. 480) arrived at the Scamander and went up to Priam's Pergamus, as he wished to see that citadel; and, after having seen it, and inquired into its past fortunes, he sacrificed 1,000 oxen to the Ilian Athena, and the Magi poured libations to the manes of the heroes."

This passage tacitly implies that at that time a Greek colony had long since held possession of the town, and according to Strabo's testimony (XIII. i. 42), such a colony built Ilium during the dominion of the Lydians. Now, as the commencement of the Lydian dominion dates from the year 797 B.C., and as the Ilians seem to have been completely established there long before the arrival of Xerxes in 480 B.C., we may fairly assume that their first settlement in Troy took place about 700 B.C. Now, there are found no inscriptions later than those belonging to the second century after Christ, and no coins of later date than Constantine II., but very many belonging to Constantine the Great, who, as is well known, intended to build Constantinople on that site, but it remained an uninhabited place till about the end of the reign of Constans II., that is till about A.D. 361. Since the accumulation of debris during this long period of 1061 years amounts only to six and one-half feet, whereas we have still to dig to a depth of forty feet, and in places to forty-six and [390]one-half below this, before reaching the native soil, how many years did it require to form a layer of forty to forty-six and one-half feet? The formation of the uppermost one, the Greek layer of six and one-half feet required 1061. The time required to cover the foundations of Troy to a depth of forty-six and one-half feet of debris must have been very long. The first layer of from thirteen to twenty feet on this hill of Hissarlik belonged to the Aryan race, of whom very little can be said. The second layer was formed by the Trojans of Homer, and are supposed, by Dr. Schliemann and others to have flourished here about 1400 years before Christ. We have only the general supposition of antiquity that the Trojan war occurred about B.C. 1200, and Homer's statement that Dardanus, the first Trojan King, founded Dardania, which town Virgil and Euripides consider identical with Ilium, and that after him it was governed by his son Erichthonius, and then by his grandson Tros, by his great-grandson Ilus, and then by his son Laomedon, and by his grandson Priam. Even if we allow every one of these six kings a long reign of thirty-three years, we nevertheless scarcely carry the foundation of the town beyond 1400 B.C., that is 700 years before the Greek colony.

During Dr. Schliemann's three-year excavations in the depths of Troy, he has had daily and hourly opportunities of convincing himself that, from the standard of our own or of the ancient Greek mode of life, we can form no idea of the life and doings of the four nations which successively inhabited this hill before the time of the Greek settlement. They must have had a terrible time of it, otherwise we should not find the walls of one house upon the ruined remains of another, in continuous but irregular succession; and it is just because we can form no idea of the way in which these nations lived and what calamities they had to endure, that it is impossible to calculate the duration of their existence, even approximately, from the thickness of their ruins. It is extremely remarkable, but perfectly intelligible from the continual [391]calamities which befel the town, that the civilization of all the four nations constantly declined; the terra-cottas, which show continuous decadence, leave no doubt of this.

The first settlement on this hill of Hissarlik seems to have been of the longest duration, for its ruins cover the rock to a height of from thirteen to twenty feet. Its houses and walls of fortification were built of stones, large and small, joined with earth, and manifold remains of these may be seen in the excavations. It was supposed that these settlers were identical with the Trojans of whom Homer sang, which is not the case.

All that can be said of the first settlers is that they belonged to the Aryan race, as is sufficiently proved by the Aryan religious symbols met with in the strata of their ruins, both upon the pieces of pottery and upon the small curious terra-cottas with a hole in the centre, which have the form of the crater of a volcano or of a carrousel, i.e., a top.

The excavations made have sufficiently proved that the second nation which built a town on this hill, upon the debris of the first settlers (which is from 13 to 20 feet deep), are the Trojans of whom Homer sings. Their debris lies from 23 to 33 feet below the surface. This Trojan stratum, which, without exception, bears marks of great heat, consists mainly of red ashes of wood, which rise from 5 to 10 feet above the Great Tower of Ilium, the double Scæan Gate, and the great enclosing Wall, the construction of which Homer ascribes to Poseidon and Apollo, and they show that the town was destroyed by a fearful conflagration. How great the heat must have been is clear also from the large slabs of stone upon the road leading from the double Scæan Gate down to the Plain; for when the road was laid open all the slabs appeared as uninjured as if they had been put down quite recently; but after they had been exposed to the air for a few days, the slabs of the upper part of the road, to the extent of some 10 feet, which had been exposed to the heat, began to [392]crumble away, and they have now almost disappeared, while those of the lower portion of the road, which had not been touched by the fire, have remained uninjured, and seem to be indestructible. A further proof of the terrible catastrophe is furnished by a stratum of scoriæ of melted lead and copper, from one fifth to one and one fifth of an inch thick, which extends nearly through the whole hill at a depth of from 28 to 29½ feet. That Troy was destroyed by enemies after a bloody war is further attested by the many human bones which were found in these heaps of debris, and above all the skeletons with helmets, found in the depths of the Temple of Athena, for, as we know from Homer, all corpses were burned and the ashes were preserved in urns. Of such urns were found an immense number in all the pre-Hellenic strata on the hill. Lastly, the Treasure, which some member of the royal family had probably endeavored to save during the destruction of the city, but was forced to abandon, leaves no doubt that the city was destroyed by the hands of enemies. This Treasure was found on the large enclosing wall by the side of the royal palace, at a depth of 27½ feet, and covered with red Trojan ashes from 5 to 6½ feet in depth, above which was a post-Trojan wall of fortification 19½ feet high.

As Homer is so well informed about the topography and the climatic conditions of the Troad, there can surely be no doubt that he had himself visited Troy. But, as he was there long after its destruction, and its site had moreover been buried deep in the debris of the ruined town, and had for centuries been built over by a new town, Homer could neither have seen the Great Tower of Ilium nor the Scæan Gate, nor the great enclosing Wall, nor the palace of Priam; for, as every visitor to the Troad may convince himself by the excavations, the ruins and red ashes of Troy alone—forming a layer of from five to ten feet thick—covered all these remains of immortal fame, and this [393]accumulation of debris must have been much more considerable at the time of Homer's visit. Homer made no excavations so as to bring those remains to light, but he knew of them from tradition; for the tragic fate of Troy had for centuries been in the mouths of all minstrels, and the interest attached to it was so great that tradition itself gave the exact truth in many details.

Such, for instance, is the memory of the Scæan Gate in the Great Tower of Ilium, and the constant use of the name Scæan Gate in the plural, because it had to be described as double, and in fact it has been proved to be a double gate. According to the lines of the Iliad, it now seems extremely probable that, at the time of Homer's visit, the King of Troy declared that his race was descended in a direct line from Æneas.

Now, as Homer never saw Ilium's Great Tower, nor the Scæan Gate, and could not imagine that these buildings lay buried deep beneath his feet, and as he probably imagined Troy to have been very large—according to the then existing poetical legends—and perhaps wished to describe it as still larger, we can not be surprised that he makes Hector descend from the palace in the Pergamus and hurry through the town in order to arrive at the Scæan Gate; whereas that gate and Ilium's Great Tower, in which it stands, are in reality directly in front of the royal house. That this house is really the king's palace seems evident from its size, from the thickness of its stone walls, in contrast to those of the other houses of the town, which are built almost exclusively of unburned bricks, and from its imposing situation [394]upon an artificial hill directly in front of or beside the Scæan Gate, the Great Tower, and the great surrounding Wall. This is confirmed by the many splendid objects found in its ruins, especially the enormous royally ornamented vase with the picture of the owl-headed goddess Athena, the tutelary divinity of Ilium; and lastly, above all other things, the rich Treasure found close by it. It can not, of course, be proved that the name of this king, the owner of this Treasure, was really Priam; but he is so called by Homer and in all the traditions. All that can be proved is, that the palace of the owner of this Treasure, this last Trojan king, perished in the great catastrophe, which destroyed the Scæan Gate, the great surrounding Wall, and the Great Tower, and which desolated the whole city. It can be proved, by the enormous quantities of red and yellow calcined Trojan ruins, from five to ten feet in height, which covered and enveloped these edifices, and by the many post-Trojan buildings, which were again erected upon these calcined heaps of ruins, that neither the palace of the owner of the Treasure, nor the Scæan Gate, nor the great surrounding Wall, nor Ilium's Great Tower, were ever again brought to light. A city, whose king possessed such a Treasure, was immensely wealthy, considering the circumstances of these times; and because Troy was rich it was powerful, had many subjects, and obtained auxiliaries from all quarters.

This Treasure of the supposed mythical king Priam, of the [395]mythical heroic age, is, at all events, a discovery which stands alone in archæology, revealing great wealth, great civilization and great taste for art, in an age preceding the discovery of bronze, when weapons and implements of pure copper were employed contemporaneously with enormous quantities of stone weapons and implements. This Treasure further leaves no doubt that Homer must have actually seen gold and silver articles, such as he continually describes; it is, in every respect, of inestimable value to science, and will for centuries remain the object of careful investigation.

While the Trojan war was the last it was also the greatest of all the achievements of the heroic age, and was immortalized by the genius of Homer. Paris, son of Priam, king of Ilium or Troy, abused the hospitality of Menelaus, king of Sparta, by carrying off his wife Helen, the most beautiful woman of the age. All the Grecian princes looked upon the outrage as committed upon themselves. Responding to the call of Menelaus, they assemble in arms, elect his brother Agamemnon, king of Mycenæ, leader of the expedition, and sail across the Ægean in nearly 1,200 ships to recover the faithless fair one. Some, however, excelled Agamemnon in fame. Among them Achilles stands pre-eminent in strength, beauty and value, while Ulysses surpasses all the rest in the mental qualities of counsel, subtility and eloquence. Thus, by the opposite endowments, these two heroes form the centre of the group.

Among the Trojans, Hector, one of the sons of Priam, is most distinguished for heroic qualities, and forms a striking contrast to his handsome, but effeminate brother, Paris. It is said that even the gods took part in the contest, encouraging their favorite heroes, and sometimes fighting by their side or in their stead. It was not until the tenth year that Troy yielded to the inevitable fate. It was delivered over to the sword and its glory sank in ashes.

[396]The houses of Troy were all very high, and had several stories, as is obvious from the thickness of the walls, the construction and colossal heaps of debris. The city was immensely rich, and as it was wealthy, so was it powerful and its buildings large. The ruins are found in a badly decayed state, because of the great fires that occurred there, and the neighboring towns were largely built with stone from the ruins of Troy; Archæanax is said to have built a long wall around Sigeum with its stones.

A portion of a large building was laid bare, the walls of which are 6¼ feet thick, and consist for the most part of hewn blocks of limestone joined with clay. None of the stones seem to be more than 1 foot 9 inches long, and they are so skillfully put together, that the walls form a smooth surface. This house is built upon a layer of yellow and brown ashes and ruins, at a depth of 20 feet, and the portion of the walls preserved reaches up to within 10 feet below the surface of the hill. In the house, as far as has been excavated, only one vase, with two breasts in front and one breast at the side, has been found.

This is the first house that Dr. Schliemann excavated, which is quite evident by what he writes about it: "It is with a feeling of great interest that, from this great platform, that is, at a perpendicular height of from thirty-three to forty-two feet, I see this [397]very ancient building (which may have been erected 1000 years before Christ) standing as it were in mid air."

A room was excavated which is ten feet high and eleven and one-fourth wide; it was at one time much higher; its length has not been ascertained.

One of the compartments of the uppermost houses, below the Temple of Athena and belonging to the pre-Hellenic period, appears to have been used as a wine-merchant's cellar or as a magazine, for in it there are nine enormous earthen jars of various forms, about five and three-fourths feet high and four and three-fourths feet across, their mouths being from twenty-nine and one-half to thirty-five and one-fourth inches broad. Each of these earthen jars has four handles, three and three-fourths inches broad, and the clay of which they are made has the enormous thickness of two and one-fourth inches.

A house of eight rooms was also brought to light at a depth of twenty-six feet. It stands upon the great Tower, directly below the Greek Temple of Athena. Its walls consist of small stones cemented with earth, and they appear to belong to different epochs; for, while some of them rest directly upon the stones of the Tower, others were not built till the Tower was covered with eight inches, and in several cases even with three and one-fourth feet, of debris. These walls also show differences in thickness; one of them is four and one-half feet, others are only twenty-five and one-half inches, and others again not more than nineteen and two-thirds inches thick. Several of these walls are ten feet high, and on some of them may be seen large remnants of the coatings of clay, painted yellow or white. Black marks, the result of fire, upon the lower portion of the walls of the other rooms which have been excavated, leave no doubt that their floors were of wood, and were destroyed by fire. In one room there is a wall in the form of a semicircle, which has been burnt as black as coal. All the rooms as yet laid open, and not resting [398]directly upon the Tower, have been excavated down to the same level; and, without exception, the debris below them consists of red or yellow ashes and burnt ruins. Above these, even in the rooms themselves, were found nothing but either red or yellow wood-ashes, mixed with bricks that had been dried in the sun and subsequently burnt by the conflagration, or black debris, the remains of furniture, mixed with masses of small shells: in proof of this there are the many remains which are still hanging on the walls.

A very large ancient building was found standing upon the wall or buttress. At this place the wall appears to be about seventy-nine feet wide, or thick. The site of this building, upon an elevation, together with its solid structure, leave no doubt that it was the grandest building in Troy; nay, that it must have been the Palace of Priam. This edifice, now first laid open from beneath the ashes which covered it in the burning of the city, was found by Dr. Schliemann in the very state to which, in Homer, Agamemnon threatens to reduce it: "The house of Priam blackened with fire."

Upon this house, by the side of the double gate, upon Ilium's Great Tower, at the edge of the western slope of the Acropolis, sat Priam, the seven elders of the city, and Helen; and this is the scene of the most splendid passage in the Iliad:

From this spot the company surveyed the whole plain, and saw at the foot of the Acropolis the Trojan and the Achæan armies face to face, about to settle their agreement to let the war be decided by a single combat between Paris and Menelaus.

[399]The description which Homer gives of the Tower of Ilium, and the incidents connected with it, corresponds so closely to the tower which Dr. Schliemann found that it leaves no doubt that the two are identical.

"Now, with regard to the objects found in these houses, I must first of all mention having discovered, at a depth of twenty-six feet, in the Palace of Priam, a splendid and brilliant brown vase, twenty-four and one-fourth inches high, with a figure of the tutelar goddess of Troy, that is, with her owl's head, [400]two breasts, a splendid necklace, indicated by an engraved pattern, a very broad and beautifully engraved girdle, and other very artistic decorations; there are no arms, nor are there any indications of them. Unfortunately this exquisite vase has suffered from [401]the weight of stones which lay upon it. No. 4 resembles an owl's beak, and especially as this is seen between the ear-shaped ornaments, it was doubtless intended to represent the image of the owl with upraised wings on each side of the vases, which image received a noble appearance from the splendid lid with a coronet. I give a drawing of the largest vase of this type, which was found a few days ago in the royal palace at a depth of from twenty-eight to twenty-nine and one-half feet; on the top of it I have placed the bell-shaped lid with a coronet, which was discovered close by and appears to have belonged to it.

"I also found in the Treasure three great silver vases, the largest of which is above eight and one-fourth inches high and nearly eight inches in diameter, and has a handle five and one-half inches in length and three and one-half in breadth. (No. 23.) The second vase is 6.9 inches high and nearly six inches in diameter; another silver vase is welded to the upper part of it (No. 22), of which, however, only portions have been preserved. No. 19 is a splendid Terra-cotta vase from the Palace of Priam. It is the largest vase of the type frequent in the ruins, with two small handles and two great upright wings. The cover was found near it.

"On the south side of the hill, where, on account of the slight natural slope, I had to make my great trench with an inclination of fourteen degrees, I discovered, at a distance of 197 feet from the declivity, a Tower, forty feet thick, which I have uncovered on the north and south sides along the whole breadth of [402]my trench, and have convinced myself that it is built on the rock at a depth of forty-six and a half feet.

"The Tower is at present only twenty feet high, but the nature of its surface, and the masses of stones lying on both sides, seem to prove that it was at one time much higher. For the preservation of what remains we have only to thank the ruins of Troy, which entirely covered the Tower as it now stands. It is probable that after the destruction of Troy much more of it remained standing, and that the part which rose above the ruins of the town was destroyed by the successors of the Trojans, who possessed neither walls nor fortifications. The western part of the Tower, so far as it is yet uncovered, is only from 121 to 124 feet distant from the steep western slope of the hill; and, considering the enormous accumulation of debris, I believe that the Tower once stood on the western edge of the Acropolis, where its situation would be most interesting and imposing, for its top would have commanded, not only a view of the whole Plain of Troy, but of the sea with the Islands of Tenedos, Imbros and Samothrace. There is not a more sublime situation in the area of Troy than this, and I therefore presume that it is the 'Great Tower of Ilium' which Andromache ascended because 'she had heard that the Trojans were hard pressed and that the power of the Achæans was great.'

"After having been buried for thirty-one centuries, and after successive nations have built their houses and palaces high above its summit during thousands of years, this Tower has now again been brought to light, and commands a view, if not of the whole Plain, at least of the northern part and of the Hellespont. May this sacred and sublime monument of Greek heroism [403]forever attract the eyes of those who sail through the Hellespont! May it become a place to which the inquiring youth of all future generations shall make pilgrimage to fan their enthusiasms for knowledge, and above all for the noble language and literature of Greece!

"Directly by the side of the Palace of King Priam I came upon a large copper article of the most remarkable form, which attracted my attention all the more as I thought I saw gold behind it. On the top of this copper article lay a stratum of red and calcined ruins, from four and three-quarters to five and one-quarter feet thick, as hard as stone, and above this again lay a wall of fortification (six feet broad and twenty feet high) which was built of large stones and earth, and must have belonged to an early date after the destruction of Troy. In order to withdraw the Treasure from the greed of my workmen, and to save it for archæology, I had to be most expeditious, and although it was not yet time for breakfast, I immediately had breakfast called. While the men were eating and resting I cut out the Treasure with a large knife, which it was impossible to do without the very greatest exertion and the most fearful risk of my life, for the great fortification wall, beneath which I had to dig, threatened every moment to fall down upon me. But the sight of so many objects, every one of which is of inestimable value to archæology, made me foolhardy, and I never thought of any danger. It would, however, have been impossible for me to have removed the Treasure without the help of my dear wife, who stood by me ready to pack the things which I cut out in her shawl and to carry them away.

"The first thing I found was a large copper shield, in the form of an oval salver, in the middle of which is a knob or boss encircled by a small furrow. It is a little less than twenty inches in length, is quite flat, and surrounded by a rim one and one-half inches high; the boss is two and one-third inches high and [404]four and one-third inches in diameter; the furrow encircling it is seven inches in diameter and two-fifths of an inch deep. This round shield of copper (or bronze?) with its central boss, and the furrow and rim so suitable for holding together a covering of ox-hides, reminds one irresistibly of the seven-fold shield of Ajax (Iliad vii. 219-223):

"It is equally striking to compare the shield of the Treasure with the description of Sarpedon's shield, with its round plate of hammered copper (or bronze), and its covering of ox-hides, fastened to the inner edge of the rim by gold wires or rivets (Iliad xii. 294-297):

"The second object which I got out was a copper caldron with two horizontal handles. It is sixteen and one-half inches in diameter and five and one-half inches high; the bottom is flat, and is nearly eight inches in diameter. In the Iliad this vessel is used almost always as a caldron, and is often given as a prize at games; in the Odyssey it is always used for washing the hands or feet. This one shows the marks of a fearful conflagration, and near the left handle are seen two fragments of copper weapons (a lance and a battle-ax) firmly molten on. (See No. 25.)

"The third object was a copper plate two-fifths of an inch thick, six and one-third inches broad, and seventeen and one-third inches long; it has a rim about one-twelfth of an inch high; at one end of it there are two immovable wheels with an axle-tree. This plate is very much bent in two places, but I believe that these curvatures have been produced by the heat to which the article was exposed in the conflagration; a silver vase four and three-fourths inches high and broad has been fused to it; I suppose, however, that this also happened by accident in the heat of the fire. (See No. 14.)

[406]"This remarkable object lay at the top of the whole mass, and I suppose it to have formed a hasp to the lid of the wooden chest in which the Treasure was packed. The fourth article I brought out was a copper vase five and one-half inches high and four and one-third inches in diameter. Thereupon followed a globular bottle of the purest gold, weighing 6,220 grains, or above one pound troy; it is nearly six inches high and five and one-half inches in diameter, and has the commencement of a zigzag decoration on the neck, which, however, is not continued all round. Then came a cup, likewise of the purest gold, weighing seven and one-fourth oz. troy; it is three and one-half inches high and three inches broad. (See Nos. 4 and 12.)

"Next came another cup of purest gold, weighing about one pound and six oz. troy; it is three and one-half inches high, [407]seven and one-fourth inches long, and seven and one-fifth inches broad; it is in the form of a ship, with two large handles; on one side there is a mouth one and one-fifth inches broad, for drinking out of, and another at the other side two and three-fourths inches broad. Prof. Stephanos Kumanudes, of Athens, remarks, the person who presented the filled cup may have first drank from the small mouth as a mark of respect, to let the guest drink from the larger mouth. (See No. 10.)

"The Treasure further contained a small cup of gold weighing two and one-fourth oz. troy; also six pieces of the purest silver in the form of large knife blades; they have all been wrought with a hammer.

"I also found in the Treasure three great silver vases, the [408]largest of which is above eight and one-fourth inches high and nearly eight inches in diameter, and has a handle five and one-half inches in length and three and one-half in breadth; I found besides a number of silver goblets and cups. Upon and beside the gold and silver articles I found thirteen copper lances; also fourteen copper weapons, which are frequently met with here, and seven large double-edged copper daggers.

"As I found all these articles together, forming a rectangular mass, or packed into one another, it seems to be certain that they were placed on the city wall in a wooden chest, such as those mentioned by Homer as being in the Palace of King Priam. This appears to be the more certain, as close by the side of these articles I found a copper key above four inches long, the head of which (about two inches long and broad) greatly resembles a large safe-key of a bank. Curiously enough this key has had a wooden handle.

"That the Treasure was packed together at terrible risk of life, and in the greatest anxiety, is proved among other things also by the contents of a large silver vase, at the bottom of which I found two gold diadems, a fillet and four beautiful ear-rings of most exquisite workmanship; upon these lay fifty-six gold ear-rings of exceedingly curious form, and 8,750 small gold rings, perforated prisms and dice, gold buttons and similar jewels; then followed six gold bracelets, and, on the top of all, the two small gold goblets. Some of these are mentioned by Homer:

"The one diadem consists of a gold fillet, twenty-one and two-thirds inches long and nearly half an inch broad, from which there hang on either side seven little chains to cover the [409]temples, each of which has eleven square leaves with a groove; these chains are joined to one another by four little cross chains, at the end of which hangs a glittering golden idol of the tutelar goddess of Troy, nearly an inch long. The entire length of each of these chains, with the idols, amounts to ten and one-quarter inches. Almost all these idols have something of the human form, but the owl's head with the two large eyes can not be mistaken; their breadth at the lower end is about nine-tenths of an inch. Between these ornaments for the temples there are forty-seven little pendant chains adorned with square leaves; at the end of each little chain is an idol of the tutelar goddess of Ilium, about three-quarters of an inch long; the length of these little chains with the idols is not quite four inches. The fillet is above eighteen inches long and two-fifths of an inch broad, and has three perforations at each end. Eight quadruple rows of dots divide it into nine compartments, in each of which there are two large dots, and an uninterrupted row of dots adorns the whole edge. (See Fig. 1.) Of the four ear-rings only two [410]are exactly alike; from the upper part, which is almost in the shape of a basket, and is ornamented with two rows of decorations in the form of beads, there hang six small chains on which are three little cylinders; attached to the end of the chains are small idols of the tutelar goddess of Troy. The length of each ear-ring is three and one-half inches. The upper part of the other two ear-rings is larger and thicker, but likewise almost in the shape of a basket; from it are suspended five little chains entirely covered with small round leaves, on which are likewise fastened small but more imposing idols of the Ilian tutelar divinity; the length of one of these pendants is three and one-half inches, that of the other a little over three inches. (See Fig. 17.)

"Homer, in the Iliad, sings of 'beautifully twined tassels of solid gold' which adorned Athene:

"Again, when Hera adorns herself to captivate Jove, her zone is fringed with a hundred tassels, and her ear-rings are described in terms corresponding exactly to the triple leaves above described:

"Of the six gold bracelets two are quite simple, and closed, but consist of an ornamented band one-twenty-fifth of an inch thick and one-fourth of an inch broad. The other three are double, and the ends are turned round and furnished with a head. The princess who wore these bracelets must have had unusually small hands, for they are so small that a girl of ten would have difficulty in putting them on.

"The fifty-six other gold ear-rings are of various sizes, and [411]three of them appear to have also been used by the princesses of the royal family as finger-rings. Also gold buttons were found, or studs, one-sixth of an inch high, in the cavity of which is a ring above one-tenth of an inch broad for sewing them on; gold double buttons, exactly like our shirt studs, three-tenths of an inch long, which, however, are not soldered, but simply stuck together, for from the cavity of the button there projects a tube, nearly one-fourth of an inch long, and from the other a pin of the same length, and the pin is merely stuck into the tube to form a double stud. (See Fig. No. 16.) These double buttons or studs can only have been used, probably, as ornament upon leather articles, for instance upon the handle-straps of swords, shields, or knives. I found in the vase also two gold cylinders above one-tenth of an inch long; also a small peg above four-fifths of an inch in length, and from six one-hundreths to eight one-hundreths of an inch thick; it has at one end a perforated hole for hanging it up, and on the other side six encircling incisions, which give the article the appearance of a screw; it is only by means of a magnifying glass that it is found not to be really a screw. I also found in the same vase two pieces of gold, one of which is one-seventh of an inch, the other above two inches long; each of them has twenty-one perforations.

"The persons who endeavored to save the Treasure had fortunately the presence of mind to stand the silver vase, containing [412]the valuable articles described above, upright in the chest, so that not so much as a bead could fall out, and everything has been preserved uninjured.

"M. Landerer, of Athens, a chemist well known through his discoveries and writings, who has most carefully examined all the copper articles of the Treasure, and analyzed the fragments, finds that all of them consist of pure copper without any admixture of tin or zinc, and that, in order to make them more durable, they have been wrought with the hammer.

"As I hoped to find other treasures here, and also wished to bring to light the wall surrounding Troy, the erection of which Homer ascribes to Poseidon and Apollo, as far as the Scæan Gate, I have entirely cut away the upper wall, which rested partly upon the gate, to an extent of fifty-six feet. Visitors to the Troad can, however, still see part of it in the northwest earth-wall opposite the Scæan Gate. I have also broken down the enormous block of earth which separated my western and northwestern cutting from the Great Tower. The result of this new excavation is very important to archæology, for I have been able to uncover several walls, and also a room of the Royal Palace, twenty feet in length and breadth, upon which no buildings of a later period rest.

"Of the objects discovered there I have only to mention an excellently engraved inscription found upon a square piece of red slate, which has two holes not bored through it and an encircling incision, but neither can my learned friend Emile Burnouf nor I tell in what language the inscription is written. Further, there [413]were some interesting terra-cottas, among which is a vessel, quite the form of a modern cask, and with a tube in the centre for pouring in and drawing off the liquid. There were also found upon the walls of Troy, one and three-fourths feet below the place where the Treasure was discovered, three silver dishes, two of which were broken to pieces in digging down the debris, they can, however, be repaired, as I have all the pieces. These dishes seem to have belonged to the Treasure, and the fact of the latter having otherwise escaped our pickaxes is due to the above mentioned large copper vessels which projected, so that I could cut everything out of the hard debris with a knife.

"I found, further, a silver goblet above three and one-third inches high, the mouth of which is nearly four inches in diameter; also a silver flat cup or dish five and one-half inches in diameter, and two beautiful small silver vases of most exquisite workmanship. The larger one, which has two rings on either side for hanging up by strings, is nearly eight inches high with its hat-shaped lid, and three and one-half inches in diameter across the bulge. The smaller silver vase, with a ring on either side for suspension by a string, is about six and three-fourths inches high, with its lid, and above three inches broad.

"I now perceive that the cutting which I made in April was exactly at the proper point, and that if I had only continued it I should in a few weeks have uncovered the most remarkable buildings in Troy, namely, the Palace of King Priam, the Scæan Gate, the Great Surrounding Wall, and the Great Tower of Ilium; whereas, in consequence of abandoning this cutting, I had to make colossal excavations from east to west and from north to south through the entire hill in order to find those most interesting buildings.

"In the upper strata of the north western and western excavations we came upon another great quantity of heads of beautiful terra-cotta figures of the best Hellenic period, and at a depth [414]of twenty-three feet upon some idols, as well as the upper portion of a vase with the owl's face and a lid in the form of a helmet. Lids of this kind, upon the edge of which female hair is indicated by incisions, are frequently found in all the strata between thirteen and thirty-three feet deep, and as they belong to vases with owls' faces, the number of lids gives us an idea of the number of the vases with the figure of the owl-headed Athene, which existed here in Troy.

"Homer rarely mentions temples, and, although he speaks of the Temple of Athene, yet, considering the smallness of the city, it is very doubtful whether it actually existed. It is probable that the tutelar goddess at that time possessed only the sacrificial altar which I discovered, and the crescent form of which greatly resembles the upper portion of the ivory idol found in the lowest strata as well as the one end of the six talents contained among the Treasure.

"Valuable stones, such as those large flags which cover the road leading from the Scæan Gate to the Plain, as well as the stones of the enclosing wall and of the Great Tower, have been left untouched, and not a single stone of the Scæan Gate is wanting. Nay, with the exception of the houses which I myself destroyed, it would be quite possible to uncover the 'carcasses' of all the houses, as in the case of Pompeii. The houses must have been very high, and a great deal of wood must have been used in their construction, for otherwise the conflagration could not have produced such an enormous quantity of ashes and rubbish.

"Upon and beside the gold and silver articles, I found thirteen copper lances, from nearly seven to above twelve and one-half inches in length, and from above one and one-half to two and one-third inches broad at the broadest point; at the lower end of each is a hole, in which, in most cases, the nail or peg which fastened the lance to the wooden handle is still sticking. [415]The pin-hole is clearly visible in a lance-head which the conflagration has welded to a battle-ax. The Trojan lances were therefore quite different from those of the Greeks and Romans.

"I also found fourteen of those copper weapons, which are frequently met with here, but which have never been discovered [416]elsewhere; at one end they are pointed but blunt, and at the other they end in a broad edge. I formerly considered them to be a species of lance, but now, after mature consideration, I am convinced that they could have been used only as battle-axes. They are from above six to above twelve inches in length, from nearly one-half to above three-fourths of an inch thick, and from above one to nearly three inches broad; the largest of them weighs about three pounds avoirdupois.

"There were also seven large double-edged copper daggers, with a handle from about two to two and three-fourths inches long, the end of which is bent round at a right angle. These handles must at one time have been encased in wood, for if the cases had been made of bone they would still have been wholly or partially preserved. The pointed handle was inserted into a piece of wood, so that the end projected about half an inch beyond it, and this end was simply bent round. The largest of these daggers is ten and two-thirds inches in length and above two inches broad at the broadest part; a second dagger, which is above one and three-fourths inches broad, has the point broken off, and is now less than nine inches long, but appears to have been eleven inches; a third dagger is eight and two-thirds inches long, and measures above one and one-fourth inches at the broadest point.

"On the north side of the hill I have now also uncovered several house-walls at a depth of forty-two and one-half feet, and also the beginning of a remarkable wall of fortification, the [417]continuation of which may be seen in the labyrinth of the house-walls in the depths of the Temple of Athene. On the north side, above the primary soil, I have also brought to light a portion of the pavement already mentioned, composed of small, round, white sea-pebbles, below which are the calcined ruins of a building which formerly stood there.

"Among some very remarkable terra-cottas discovered since my last report I must mention two jugs found on the north side, at a depth of from twenty-three to twenty-six feet, each of which has two upright necks standing side by side, but their handles are united. One of them has also beside the mouths two small elevations, which may probably indicate eyes. Of a third jug of this kind I only found the upper portion. I must also mention an exceedingly curious cup, discovered at a depth of thirteen feet, which consists of a tube resting upon three feet and ending in one large and two small goblets; the larger goblet is connected with the opposite side of the tube by a handle. At the same depth I met with a large vase, from which projects a separate small vase; it is ornamented with incisions, and has three feet and two very pretty handles and rings for hanging it up. I found likewise, at the depth of thirteen feet, a vase with two female breasts, two large handles and engravings resembling letters. Among other extremely curious terra-cottas I must also mention three pots with three rows of perforations; they have the usual handle on one side and three feet on the other; also three large vases with perforations right round, on all sides, from the bottom to the top; their use is a riddle to me; can they have served as bee-hives? Also a vessel in the form of a pig, with four feet, which are, however, shorter than the belly, so that the vessel can not stand upon them; the neck of the vessel, which is attached to the back of the pig, is connected with the hinder part by a handle. I further found a pot in the form of a basket with a handle crossing the mouth, [418]and a tube in the bulge for drawing off the liquid. Also two terra-cotta funnels, at a depth of ten feet, with a letter which I have repeatedly met with on some of the terra-cottas. At a depth of five feet I found one of those round twice-perforated terra-cottas with a stamp, in which there are Egyptian hieroglyphics; also a dozen of the same articles in the stamps of which are a crowned head, a bird, a dog's head, a flying man or an eagle and a stag. At a depth of sixteen and one-half feet I found the handle of a cup with the beautifully modeled head of a bull.

"Neither can I prove that the terra-cottas here frequently met with, in the form of horses' heads, represent the mother of Hera, Cybele or Rhea, but it is very likely, for, as it is well known, in Phrygia she was represented with a horse's head. Terra-cotta idols of the Ilian Athene are rarely met with, but we daily find marble idols of this goddess, most of which have almost a human form. We also frequently come upon oblong flat pieces of rough marble upon which the owl's face of the goddess is more or less deeply engraved. It is often so finely scratched that the aid of a magnifying glass is required to convince one that it actually exists; we found several such pieces of marble where the owl's head was painted in a black color. Since I have come to the conclusion that they are idols of the tutelar divinity of Troy I have carefully collected them.

"In excavating the ground upon which my wooden house had stood we found, at a depth of from nine to nineteen inches, eighteen copper and two silver medals; one of the latter is of Marcus Aurelius. The other is a tetra-drachm of the island of Tenedos; on the obverse, to the right, is the head of Jupiter, to the left that of Juno, both having one neck in common, like the heads of Janus. [419]The head of Jupiter is crowned with laurels, that of Juno has a wreath or crown. Upon the reverse of the coin there is a laurel wreath round the edge, and in the centre a large double ax, above which stands the word Teneelion, below and to the right of the handle of the double ax there is a winged Eros, who is holding up an object which it is difficult to distinguish, to the left is a bunch of grapes and a monogram, which looks like the letter A.

"Of the copper coins five are of Alexandria Troas, two of Ophrynium, one of Tenedos, two of Abydos, and one of Dardania.

"When I uncovered the road paved with large flags of stone, which leads from the Scæan Gate to the Plain, the stones looked as new as if they had just been hewn. But since then, under the influence of the burning sun, the flags of the upper portion of the road, which have specially suffered from the conflagration that destroyed the city, are rapidly crumbling away, and will probably have quite disappeared in a few years. However, the flags of stone on the northwestern half of the road, which have been less exposed to the heat, may still last many centuries.

"In this day, closing the excavations at Ilium forever, I can not but fervently thank God for His great mercy, in that, notwithstanding the terrible danger to which we have been exposed owing to the continual hurricanes, during the last three years' gigantic excavations, no misfortune has happened, no one has been killed, and no one has been seriously hurt.

"In my last report I did not state the exact number of springs in front of the Ilium. I have now visited all the springs myself, and measured their distance from my excavations, and I can give the following account of them. The first spring, which is situated directly below the ruins of the ancient town-wall, is exactly 399 yards from my excavations; its water has a temperature of [420]60.8° Fahrenheit. It is enclosed to a height of six and-one-half feet by a wall of large stones joined with cement, nine and one-quarter feet in breadth, and in front of it there are two stone troughs for watering cattle. The second spring, which is likewise still below the ruins of the ancient town-wall, is exactly 793 yards distant from my excavations. It has a similar enclosure of large stones, seven feet high and five feet broad, and has the same temperature. But it is out of repair, and the water no longer runs through the stone pipe in the enclosure, but along the ground before it reaches the pipe. The double spring spoken of in my last report is exactly 1,033 yards from my excavations. It consists of two distinct springs, which run out through two stone pipes lying beside each other in the enclosure composed of large stones joined with earth, which rises to a height of seven feet and is twenty-three feet broad; its temperature is 62.6° Fahrenheit. In front of these two springs there are six stone troughs, which are placed in such a manner that the superfluous water always runs from the first trough through all the others. It is extremely probable that these are the two springs mentioned by Homer, beside which Hector was killed.

"In this new excavation I find four earthen pipes, from eighteen and three-quarters to twenty-two and one-quarter inches long, and [421]from six and one-half to eleven and three-quarters inches thick, laid together for conducting water, which was brought from a distance of about seven miles from the upper Thymbrius. This river is now called the Kemar, from the Greek word kamara (vault), because an aqueduct of the Roman period crosses its lower course by a large arch. This aqueduct formerly supplied Ilium with drinking water from the upper portion of the river. But the Pergamus required special aqueducts, for it lies higher than the city.

"Unfortunately upon none of the articles of the Treasure of Priam are there found any inscriptions or any religious symbols except 100 idols of the Homeric 'owl-faced goddess Athene.' (Thea glaukopis Athene) which glitter upon the two diadems and the four ear-rings. These are, however, an undeniable proof that the Treasure belongs to the city and to the age of which Homer sings."

The question asked is: Has Schliemann found any inscriptions which throw the certain light of written testimony on the language, the history and social condition, the religion, science and literature of the old inhabitants of the hill, whose records form as yet no part of ancient history? Upon this point very little satisfaction can be given, yet the people of ancient Troy did have a written language. At a depth of twenty-six feet, in the royal palace, a vase with an inscription was found. One of the letters resembles the Greek P. This same letter occurs on a seal found at a depth of twenty-three feet; two other letters of this inscription occurred on one other terra-cotta, likewise found at a depth of twenty-three feet.

To Dr. Martin Haug belongs the honor of first deciphering the Trojan inscriptions on the above-mentioned vase. He, not [422]without much research, interpreted it as a dedication "To the divine Sigo," a deity whose name was found in Sigeum. The transmutation, however, seemed forced; and, while Haug was right in his method, his results were pronounced at best,

Prof. T. Gomperz, of Vienna, after making one correction in Haug's reading, still found it unsatisfactory, till the thought struck him of reading it from right to left round the vase, instead of from left to right, when the confused syllables flashed, as by sudden crystallization, into the pure Greek, and read: "To the divine Prince."

Another inscription was found which Prof. Max Muller read as the very name of Ilion. Others were found which are not as yet interpreted.

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[423]

NINEVEH AND BABYLON.ToC

Far away from the highways of modern commerce and the tracks of ordinary travel lay a city buried in the sandy earth of a half-desert Turkish province, with no trace of its place of sepulture. Vague tradition said it was hidden somewhere near the river Tigris; but for a long series of ages its existence in the world was a mere name—a word. That name suggested the idea of an ancient capital of fabulous splendor and magnitude; a congregation of palaces and temples, encompassed by vast walls and ramparts—of "the rejoicing city that dwelt carelessly; that said in her heart, I am, and there is none beside me," and which was to become "a desolation and dry like a wilderness."

More than two thousand years had it lain in its unknown grave, when a French savant and a wandering scholar sought the seat of the once powerful empire, and searching till they found the dead city, threw off its shroud of sand and ruin, and revealed once more to an astonished and curious world the temples, the palaces, and the idols; the representations of war and the chase, of the cruelties and luxuries of the ancient Assyrians. The Nineveh of Scripture, the Nineveh of the oldest historians; the Nineveh—twin sister of Babylon—glorying in pomp and power, all traces of which were believed to be gone; the Nineveh in which the captive tribes of Israel had labored and wept, and against which the words of prophecy had gone forth, was, after a sleep of [424]twenty centuries, again brought to light. The proofs of ancient splendor were again beheld by living eyes, and by the skill of draftsmen and the pen of antiquarian travelers made known and preserved to the world.

In the history of Jonah's visit, Nineveh is twice described as "that great city," and again as an "exceedingly great city of three days' journey."

The measurement assigned to Nineveh by the sacred writer applies, without doubt, to its circuit, and gives a circumference of about sixty miles.

None of the historical books of the Old Testament give any details respecting Nineveh. The prophets, however, make frequent incidental allusion to its magnificence, to the "fenced place," the "stronghold," the "valiant men and chariots," the "silver and gold," the "pleasant furniture," "carved lintels and cedar work." Zephaniah, who wrote about twenty-four years before the fall of Nineveh, says of it:

The ruins of Nineveh were virtually unknown to the ancient classical writers, though we gather from all of them that it was one of the oldest, most powerful and most splendid cities in the world; that it perished utterly many hundred years before the Christian Era; and that after its fall Babylon became the capital of the Assyrian empire, which finally grew still greater and mightier. On examining their details, we find names confounded, incidents transposed, and chronology by turns confused, extended or inverted. Difficulties of another and more peculiar kind beset this path of inquiry, of which it will suffice to instance one illustration—proper names, those fixed points in history around which the achievements or sufferings of its heroes cluster, are constantly shifting in the Assyrian nomenclature; both men and gods being designated, not by a word composed of certain fixed sounds or [425]signs, but by all the various expressions equivalent to it in meaning, whether consisting of a synonym or a phrase. Hence we find that the names furnished by classic authors generally have little or no analogy with the Assyrian, as the Greeks generally construed the proper names of other countries according to the genius of their own language, and not unfrequently translated the original name into it. Herodotus, however, though he mentions but one Assyrian king, gives his true name, Sennacherib.

The immense mounds of brick and rubbish which marked the presumed sites of Babylon and Nineveh had been used as quarries by the inhabitants of the surrounding country, from time immemorial, without disclosing to other eyes than those of the wild occupier of the soil the monuments they must have served to support or cover. Though carefully explored by Niebuhr and Claudius James Rich, no other traces of buildings than a few portions of walls, of which they could not understand the plan, had been presented; if, however, the investigations of these travelers produced few immediate results, the first-named certainly has the merit of being the first to break the ground, and by his intelligence, to have awakened the enterprise of others. Rich, who was the East India Company's resident at Baghdad, employed his leisure in the investigation of the antiquities of Assyria. He gave his first attention to Babylon, on which he wrote a paper, originally published in Germany—his countrymen apparently taking less interest in such matters than did the scholars of Vienna. In a note to a second memoir on Babylon, printed in London in 1818, we find Nineveh thus alluded to by Rich. He says: "Opposite the town of Mosul is an enclosure of rectangular form, corresponding with the cardinal points of the compass; the eastern and western sides being the longest, the latter facing the river. The area, which is now cultivated, and offers no vestiges of building, is too small to have contained a town larger than Mosul, but it may be supposed to answer to the palace of [426]Nineveh. The boundary, which may be perfectly traced all round, now looks like an embankment of earth or rubbish, of small elevation; and has attached to it, and in its line, at several places, mounds of greater size and solidity. The first of these forms the southwest angle, and on it is built the village of Nebbi Younis, the prophet's tomb (described and delineated by Niebuhr as Nurica), where they show the tomb of the prophet Jonah, much revered by the Mohammedans. The next, and largest of all, is the one which may be supposed to be the monument of Ninus. It is situated near the centre of the western face of the enclosure, and is joined like the others by the boundary wall;—the natives call it Kouyunjik Tepe. Its form is that of a truncated pyramid, with regular steep sides and a flat top; it is composed, as I ascertained from some excavations, of stones and earth, the latter predominating sufficiently to admit of the summit being cultivated by the inhabitants of the village of Kouyunjik, which is built on it at the northeast extremity. The only means I had, at the time I visited it, of ascertaining its dimensions, was by a cord which I procured from Mosul. This gave 178 feet for the greatest height, 1,850 feet for the length of the summit east and west, and 1,147 for its breadth north and south.

This mound has revealed the grandest and most stupendous remains of ancient Neneveh. Within the boundaries of ancient walls there are many mounds and elevations. All of them are artificial and are caused by the remains of the ancient structures. Mound Nimroud is about four miles in circumference at its base, on the top of which is a great pyramid mound 777 feet in circumference and 144½ feet high.

M. Botta distinctly traced the walls of an enclosure forming nearly a perfect square, two sides of which are 5,750 feet, the other 5,400, or rather more than a mile each way, all the four angles being right angles, which face the cardinal points. M. Botta commenced researches in the mound of Kouyunjik in 1842, and, meeting with little success, he abandoned his excavations in the following year.

[427]

[428]Layard, in 1846, opened some trenches in the southern face of the mound, but, at that time, without any important results. At a subsequent period he made some inquiries respecting the bas-relief described by Rich, and the spot where it was discovered having been pointed out to him in the northern group of ruins, he opened trenches, but, not finding any traces of sculptures, discontinued his operations.

Upon completing his labors at Nimroud, in 1847, Layard determined on making some farther researches at Kouyunjik. He commenced at the southwestern corner, and not only discovered the remains of a palace, which had been destroyed by fire, but, within the short space of a month, had explored nine of its chambers. All the chambers were long and narrow, and the walls lined with bas-reliefs of larger size than most of those he had found at Nimroud. The slabs were not divided by bands of inscription, but were covered with figures scattered promiscuously over the entire surface, all the details being carefully and delicately executed. The winged human-headed bulls at the entrances resembled those found at Khorsabad and Persepolis in the forms of the head-dress, and feathered cap; and the costumes of the figures in general were also like those found at Khorsabad. The period of the palace was conjectured to be between those of Khorsabad and Nimroud. After Mr. Layard had left Mosul, Mr. Ross continued the excavations, and discovered several additional bas-reliefs—an entrance, which had been formed of four sphinxes, and a very large square slab, which he conjectured to be a dais or altar, like that found at Nimroud.

Here he found a chamber lined with sculptured slabs, divided, like those of Khorsabad and Nimroud, by bands of inscription. He also found, at the foot of the mound, a monument about three feet high, and rounded at the top, containing a [429]figure with a long cuneiform inscription, and above it various sacred emblems. When discovered it was supported by brickwork, and near it was a sarcophagus in baked clay.

On the departure of Mr. Ross from Mosul the excavations were placed under the charge of Mr. Rassam, the English consul, with power to employ a small body of men, so as not to entirely abandon possession of the spot.

Layard says: "During a short period several discoveries of the greatest interest and importance were made, both at Kouyunjik and Nimroud. I will first describe the results of the excavations in the ruins opposite Mosul.

"Shortly before my departure for Europe, in 1848, the forepart of a human-headed bull of colossal dimensions had been uncovered on the east side of the Kouyunjik Palace. This sculpture then appeared to form one side of an entrance or doorway. The excavations had, however, been abandoned before any attempt could be made to ascertain the fact. On my return a tunnel, nearly 100 feet in length, was opened at right angles to the winged bull, but without coming upon any other remains but a pavement of square limestone slabs, which continued as far as the excavation was carried.

"On uncovering the bull, which was still partly buried in the rubbish, it was found that adjoining it were other sculptures, and that it formed part of an exterior facade. The upper half of the slab had been destroyed; upon the lower was part of the figure of the Assyrian Hercules strangling the lion, similar to that discovered between the bulls in the propylæa of Khorsabad, and now in the Louvre. The hinder part of the lion was still preserved. The legs, feet, and drapery of the god were in the boldest relief, and designed with great truth and vigor. Beyond this figure, in the same line, was a second bull. Then came a wide portal, guarded by a pair of winged bulls twenty feet long, and probably, when entire, more than twenty feet high, and two [430]gigantic winged figures in low relief. Flanking them were two smaller figures, one above the other. Beyond this entrance the facade was continued by a group similar to that on the opposite side by a smaller entrance into the palace and by a wall of sculptured slabs; then all traces of building and sculpture ceased near the edge of a water-worn ravine.

"Thus, part of the facade of the southeast side of the palace, forming apparently the grand entrance to the edifice, had been discovered. Ten colossal bulls, with six human figures of gigantic proportions, altogether 180 feet in length, were here grouped together. Although the bas-reliefs to the right of the entrance had apparently been purposely destroyed with a sharp instrument, enough remained to allow me to trace their subject. They had represented the conquest of a district, probably part of Babylonia, watered by a broad river and wooded with palms, spearmen on foot in combat with Assyrian horsemen, castles besieged, long lines of prisoners, and beasts of burden carrying away the spoil. Amongst various animals brought as tribute to the conquerors could be distinguished a lion led by a chain. There were no remains whatever of the superstructure which once rose above the colossi, guarding this magnificent entrance.

"Although the upper part of the winged bulls was destroyed, fortunately the lower part, and, consequently, the inscriptions, had been more or less preserved. To this fact we owe the recovery of some of the most precious records of the ancient world.

"On the two great bulls forming the center entrance was one continuous inscription, injured in parts, but still so far preserved as to be legible almost throughout. It contained 152 lines. On the four bulls of the facade were two inscriptions, one inscription being carried over each pair, and the two being precisely of the same import. These two different inscriptions complete the annals of six years of the reign of Sennacherib, and contain [431]numerous particulars connected with the religion of the Assyrians, their gods, their temples, and the erection of their palaces. We gather from them that, in the third year of his reign, Sennacherib turned his arms against Merodach-Baladan, king of Babylon, whom he entirely defeated, capturing his cities and a large amount of spoil. The fourth year appears to have been chiefly taken up with expeditions against the inhabitants of the mountainous regions to the north and east of Assyria. In the fifth he crossed the Euphrates into Syria, the inhabitants of which country are called by their familiar Biblical name of Hittites. He first took possession of Phœnicia, which was abandoned by its King Luliya (the Eululæus of the Greeks). He then restored to his throne Padiya, or Padi, king of Ekron, and a tributary of Assyria, who had been deposed by his subjects and given over to Hezekiah, king of Jerusalem. The king of Ethiopia and Egypt sent a powerful army to the assistance of the people of Ekron, but it was entirely defeated by Sennacherib, who afterwards marched against Hezekiah, probably to punish him for having imprisoned Padiya. The inscriptions record this expedition, according to the translation of the late Dr. Hincks, in the following term:—'Hezekiah, king of Judah, who had not submitted to my authority, forty-six of his principal cities, and fortresses and villages depending upon them, of which I took no account, I captured and carried away their spoil. I shut up (?) himself within Jerusalem, his capital city. The fortified towns, and the rest of his towns, which I spoiled, I severed from his country, and gave to the kings of Ascalon, Ekron, and Gaza, so as to make his country small. In addition to the former tribute imposed upon their countries, I added a tribute, the nature of which I fixed.' The next passage is somewhat illegible, but the substance of it appears to be, that he took from Hezekiah the treasure he had collected in Jerusalem, thirty talents of gold and eight hundred talents of silver, [432]the treasures of his palace, besides his sons and his daughters, and his male and female servants or slaves, and brought them all to Nineveh. This city itself, however, he does not pretend to have taken.

"The translation of this passage by Sir H. Rawlinson varies in some particulars from that given in the text. It is as follows: 'Because Hezekiah, king of Judah, would not submit to my yoke I came up against him, and by force of arms, and by the might of my power I took forty-six of his fenced cities; and of the smaller towns which were scattered about I took and plundered a countless number. And from these places I captured and carried off, as spoil, 200,150 people, old and young, male and female, together with horses and mares, asses and camels, oxen and sheep, a countless multitude. And Hezekiah himself I shut up in Jerusalem, his capital city, like a bird in a cage, building towers around the city to hem him in, and raising banks of earth against the gates, so as to prevent escape. * * * * Then upon this Hezekiah there fell the fear of the power of my arms, and he sent out to me the chiefs and the elders of Jerusalem with thirty talents of gold and eight hundred talents of silver, and divers treasures, a rich and immense booty. * * * * All these things were brought to me at Nineveh, the seat of my government, Hezekiah having sent them by way of tribute, and as a token of his submission to my power.'

"There can be no doubt that the campaign against the cities of Palestine, recorded in the inscriptions of Sennacherib in this palace, is that described in the Old Testament; and it is of great interest, therefore, to compare the two accounts, which will be found to agree in the principal incidents mentioned to a very remarkable extent. In the Second Book of Kings it is said—'Now, in the fourteenth year of king Hezekiah did Sennacherib, king of Assyria, come up against all the fenced cities of Judah, and took them. And Hezekiah, king of Judah, [433]sent to the king of Assyria, to Lachish, saying, I have offended; return from me; that which thou puttest on me will I bear. And the king of Assyria appointed unto Hezekiah three hundred talents of silver and thirty talents of gold. And Hezekiah gave him all the silver that was found in the house of the Lord and in the treasures of the king's house. At that time did Hezekiah cut off [the gold from] the doors of the temple of the Lord, and [from] the pillars which Hezekiah, king of Judah, had overlaid, and gave it to the king of Assyria.'"

When Mr. Layard revisited Kouyunjik in 1849, there were no vestiges of the sculptured walls discovered two years previously. The more recent trenches, however, dug under the superintendence of Mr. Ross, were still open; and the workmen employed by direction of the British Museum had run tunnels along the walls within the mound, to save the trouble of clearing away the soil, which had accumulated to a depth of thirty feet above the ruins. Under the direction of Layard, the excavations were resumed with great spirit, and before the lapse of many weeks, several chambers had been entered, and numerous bas-reliefs discovered. One hall, 124 feet by 90 feet, appears, says Layard, "to have formed a center, around which the principal chambers in this part of the palace were grouped. Its walls had been completely covered with the most elaborate and highly-finished sculptures. Unfortunately, all the bas-reliefs, as well as the gigantic monsters at the entrances, had suffered more or less from the fire which had destroyed the edifice; but enough of them still remained to show the subject, and even to enable him, in many places, to restore it entirely."

Continuing his discoveries in the mound, Layard "opened no less than seventy-one halls and chambers, also passages, whose walls, almost without an exception, had been paneled with slabs of sculptured alabaster, recording the wars, the triumphs, and the great deeds of the Assyrian king. By a rough calculation, about 9,880 feet, or nearly two miles of bas-reliefs, with twenty-seven portals formed by colossal winged bulls and lion sphinxes, were uncovered in that part alone of the building explored during his researches. The cut on page 435 shows some of them. The greatest length of the excavations was about 720 feet, the greatest breadth about 600 feet. The pavement of the chambers was from twenty to thirty-five feet below the surface of the mound. The measurements merely include that part of the palace actually excavated."

[434]

[436]Most of the sculptures discovered in this hall and group of chambers have been deposited in the British Museum.

For the more recent collection of sculptures which have been brought to light, we are indebted to Mr. Hormuzd Rassam, a native of Mosul, and a friend and colleague of Layard; and to Mr. William Kennet Loftus, the agent of the Assyrian excavation fund. In 1852, Mr. Rassam was appointed by the Trustees of the British Museum to take charge of the excavations at Nineveh. For more than a year his researches were nearly fruitless, when, at length, just as his appointment was about to terminate, he turned again to a previously-abandoned trench in the north side of the mound, and was almost immediately rewarded by the discovery of numerous chambers and passages, covered with a variety of bas-reliefs in an excellent state of preservation, having suffered less injury from fire than those of the other palaces. In one room was a lion hunt, in a continuous series of twenty-three slabs, with but one interval. The other slabs represented exteriors of palaces, gardens, battles, sieges, processions, etc., the whole forming the decorations of what must have been a splendid palace.

Subsequently, in 1854, at the instance of Sir Henry Rawlinson, Mr. Loftus and his coadjutor, Mr. Boutcher, transferred their operations from South Babylonia to Nineveh. At first Mr. Loftus' excavations were unsuccessful, but about the beginning of August he discovered the remains of a building on a level twenty feet lower than the palace that Mr. Rassam was exploring, and which proved to be a lower terrace of the same building, even more highly elaborated and in better preservation than those previously discovered in the ruins. At the entrance of an [437]ascending passage there was also found a "mass of solid masonry—apparently the pier of an arch—the springing of which is formed by projecting horizontal layers of limestone."

Mr. Loftus, in his Report of the 9th of October, observes: "The excavations carried on at the western angle of the North Palace, Kouyunjik, continue to reveal many interesting and important facts, and to determine several points which were previously doubtful.

"1. The existence of an outer basement wall of roughly cut stone blocks, supporting a mud wall, upon which white plaster still remains, and from which painted bricks have fallen. 2. At the corner of the palace, and at a considerable distance from the principal chambers, is an entrance hall, with column bases, precisely as we see them represented in the sculptures. 3. Above this entrance hall and its adjoining chambers, there was formerly another story, the first upper rooms yet discovered in Assyria. This, with its sculptured slabs, has fallen into the rooms below. 4. The various sculptures here disinterred are the works of four, if not five, different artists, whose styles are distinctly visible. It is evident that this portion of the edifice has been willfully destroyed, the woodwork burned, and the slabs broken to pieces. The faces of all the principal figures are slightly injured by blows of the ax."

This highly interesting series of bas-reliefs, which has now been placed in a lower chamber in the British Museum, consequently represents the siege and capture of Lachish, as described in the Second Book of Kings, and in the inscriptions on the human-headed bulls. Sennacherib himself is seen seated on his throne, and receiving the submission of the inhabitants of the city, whilst he had sent his generals to demand the tribute of payment from Hezekiah. The defenders of the castle walls and the prisoners tortured and crouching at the conqueror's feet are Jews, and the sculptor has evidently endeavored to indicate the peculiar physiognomy of the race, and the dress of the people.

[438]The value of this discovery can scarcely be overrated. Whilst we have thus the representations of an event recorded in the Old Testament, of which consequently these bas-reliefs furnish a most interesting and important illustration, they serve to a certain extent to test the accuracy of the interpretation of the cuneiform inscriptions, and to remove any doubt that might still exist as to the identification of the King who built the palace on the mound of Kouyunjik with the Sennacherib of Scripture. Had these bas-reliefs been the only remains dug up from the ruins of Nineveh, the labor of the explorer would have been amply rewarded, and the sum expended by the nation on the excavations more than justified. They furnish, together with the inscriptions which they illustrate, and which are also now deposited in the national collection, the most valuable cotemporary historical record possessed by any museum in the world. They may be said to be the actual manuscript, caused to be written or carved by the principal actor in the events which it relates. Who would have believed it probable or possible, before these discoveries were made, that beneath the heap of earth and rubbish which marked the site of Nineveh, there would be found the history of the wars between Hezekiah and Sennacherib, written at the very time when they took place by Sennacherib himself and confirming even in minute details the Biblical record? He who would have ventured to predict such a discovery would have been treated as a dreamer or an impostor. Had it been known that such a monument really existed, what sum would have been considered too great for the precious record?

A few remarks are necessary on the architecture and architectural decorations, external and internal of the Assyrian palaces. The inscriptions on their walls, especially on those of Kouyunjik and Khorsabad, appear to contain important and even minute details not only as to their general plan and mode of construction, but even as to the materials employed for their [439]different parts, and for the objects of sculpture and ornaments placed in them. (Capt. Jones calculated that the mound of Kouyunjik contains 14,500,000 tons of earth, and that its construction would have taken 10,000 men for twelve years.) This fact furnishes another remarkable analogy between the records of the Jewish and Assyrian kings. To the history of their monarchs and of their nation, the Hebrew chroniclers have added a full account of the building and ornaments of the temple and palaces of Solomon. In both cases, from the use of technical words, we can scarcely hope to understand, with any degree of certainty, all the details. It is impossible to comprehend, by the help of the description alone, the plan or appearance of the temple of Solomon. This arises not only from our being unacquainted with the exact meaning of various Hebrew architectural terms, but also from the difficulty experienced even in ordinary cases, of restoring from mere description an edifice of any kind. In the Assyrian inscriptions we labor, of course, under still greater disadvantages. The language in which they were written is as yet but very imperfectly known, and although we may be able to explain with some confidence the general meaning of the historical paragraphs, yet when we come to technical words relating to architecture, even with a very intimate acquaintance with the Assyrian tongue, we could scarcely hope to ascertain their precise signification. On the other hand, the materials, and the general plan of the Assyrian palaces are still preserved, whilst of the great edifices of the Jews, not a fragment of masonry, nor the smallest traces, are probably left to guide us. But, as Mr. Fergusson has shown, the architecture of the one people may be illustrated by that of the other. With the help of the sacred books, and of the ruins of the palaces of Nineveh, together with those of cotemporary and after remains, as well as from customs still existing in the East, we may, to a certain extent, ascertain the principal architectural features of the buildings of both nations.

[440]Before suggesting a general restoration of the royal edifices of Nineveh, we shall endeavor to point out the analogies which appear to exist between their actual remains and what is recorded of the temple and palaces of Solomon. In the first place, as Sennacherib in his inscriptions declares himself to have done, the Jewish king sent the bearers of burdens and the hewers into the mountains to bring great stones, costly stones, and hewed stones, to lay the foundations, which were probably artificial platforms, resembling the Assyrian mounds, though constructed of more solid materials. We have the remains of such a terrace or stage of stone masonry, perhaps built by King Solomon himself, at Baalbec. The enormous size of some of the hewn stones in that structure, and of those still remaining in the quarries, some of which are more than sixty feet long, has excited the wonder of modern travelers. The dimensions of the temple of Jerusalem, threescore cubits long, twenty broad, and thirty high, were much smaller than those of the great edifices explored in Assyria. Solomon's own palace, however, appears to have been considerably larger, and to have more nearly approached in its proportions those of the kings of Nineveh, for it was one hundred cubits long, fifty broad and thirty high. "The porch before the temple," twenty cubits by ten, may have been a propylæum, such as was discovered at Khorsabad in front of the palace. The chambers, with the exception of the oracle, were exceedingly small, the largest being only seven cubits broad, "for without, in the wall of the house, he made numerous rests round about, that the beams should not be fastened in the walls of the house." The words in italics are inserted in our version to make good the sense, and may consequently not convey the exact meaning, which may be, that these apartments were thus narrow in order that the beams might be supported without the use of pillars, a reason already suggested for the narrowness of the greater number of chambers in the Assyrian palaces. These [441]smaller rooms appear to have been built round a large central hall called the oracle, the whole arrangement thus corresponding with the courts, halls, and surrounding rooms at Nimroud, Khorsabad, and Kouyunjik. The oracle was twenty cubits square, smaller far in dimensions than the Nineveh halls; but it was twenty cubits high—an important fact, illustrative of Assyrian architecture, for as the building itself was thirty cubits in height the oracle must not only have been much loftier than the adjoining chambers, but must have had an upper structure of ten cubits. Within it were the two cherubim of olive wood ten cubits high, with wings each five cubits long—"and he carved all the house around with carved figures of cherubim and palm trees, and open flowers, within and without." The cherubim have been described by Biblical commentators as mythic figures, uniting the human head with the body of a lion, or an ox, and the wings of an eagle. If for the palm trees we substitute the sacred trees of the Nineveh sculptures, and for the open flowers the Assyrian tulip-shaped ornament—objects most probably very nearly resembling each other—we find that the oracle of the temple was almost identical, in the general form of its ornaments, with some of the chambers of Nimroud and Khorsabad. In the Assyrian halls, too, the winged human-headed bulls were on the side of the wall, and their wings, like those of the cherubim, "touched one another in the midst of the house." The dimensions of these figures were in some cases nearly the same in the Jewish and Assyrian temples, namely, fifteen feet square. The doors were also carved with cherubim and palm trees, and open flowers; and thus, with the other parts of the building, corresponded with those of the Assyrian palaces. On the walls at Nineveh the only addition appears to have been the introduction of the human form and the image of the king, which were an abomination to the Jews. The pomegranates and lilies of Solomon's temple must have been nearly identical with the usual [442]Assyrian ornament, in which, and particularly at Khorsabad, the promegranate frequently takes the place of the tulip and the cune.

But the description given by Josephus of the interior of one of Solomon's houses still more completely corresponds with and illustrates the chambers in the palaces of Nineveh. "Solomon built some of these (houses) with stones of ten cubits, and wainscoted the walls with other stones that were sawed, and were of great value, such as were dug out of the bowels of the earth, for ornaments of temples," etc. The arrangement of the curious workmanship of these stones was in three rows; but the fourth was pre-eminent for the beauty of its sculpture, for on it were represented trees and all sorts of plants, with the shadows caused by their branches and the leaves that hung down from them. These trees and plants covered the stone that was beneath them, and their leaves were wrought so wonderfully thin and subtle that they appeared almost in motion; but the rest of the wall, up to the roof, was plastered over, and, as it were, wrought over with various colors and pictures.

To complete the analogy between the two edifices, it would appear that Solomon was seven years building his temple, and Sennacherib about the same time in erecting his great palace at Kouyunjik.

The ceiling, roof, and beams of the Jewish temple were of cedar wood. The discoveries of the ruins at Nimroud show that the same precious wood was used in Assyrian edifices; and the king of Nineveh, as we learn from the inscriptions, sent men, precisely as Solomon had done, to cut it in Mount Lebanon. Fir was also employed in the Jewish buildings, and probably in those of Assyria.

In order to understand the proposed restoration of the palace at Kouyunjik from the existing remains, the reader must refer to the cut, on page 427, of the excavated ruins. It will be remembered that the building does not face the cardinal points of [443]the compass. We will, however, assume, for convenience sake that it stands due north and south. To the south, therefore, it immediately overlooked the Tigris; and on that side rose one of the principal facades. The edifice must have stood on the very edge of the platform, the foot of which was at that time washed by the river, which had five massive staircases leading to the river. Although from the fact of there having been a grand entrance to the palace on the east side, it is highly probable that some such approach once existed on the west side, yet no remains whatever of it have been discovered. The northern facade, like the southern, was formed by five pairs of human-headed bulls, and numerous colossal figures, forming three distinct gateways.

The principal approach to the palace appears, however, to have been on the eastern side, where the great bulls bearing the annals of Sennacherib were discovered. In the cut we have been able, by the assistance of Mr. Fergusson, to give a restoration of this magnificent palace and entrances. Inclined ways, or broad flights of steps, appear to have led up to it from the foot of the platform, and the remains of them, consisting of huge squared stones, are still in the ravines, which are but ancient ascents, deepened by the winter rains of centuries. From this grand entrance direct access could be had to all the principal halls and chambers in the palace; that on the western face, as appears from the ruins, only opened into a set of eight rooms.

The chambers hitherto explored appear to have been grouped round three great courts or halls. It must be borne in mind, however, that the palace extends considerably to the northeast of the grand entrance, and that there may have been another hall, and similar dependent chambers in that part of the edifice. Only a part of the palace has been hitherto excavated, and we are not, consequently, in possession of a perfect ground-plan of it.

[444]The general arrangement of the chambers at Kouyunjik is similar to that at Khorsabad, though the extent of the building is very much greater. The Khorsabad mound falls gradually to the level of the plain, and there are the remains of a succession of broad terraces or stages. Parts of the palace, such as the propylæa, were actually beneath the platform, and stood at some distance from it in the midst of the walled enclosure. At Kouyunjik, however, the whole of the royal edifice, with its dependent buildings, appears to have stood on the summit of the artificial mound, whose lofty perpendicular sides could only have been accessible by steps, or inclined ways. No propylæa, or other edifices connected with the palace, have as yet been discovered below the platform.

The inscriptions, it is said, refer to four distinct parts of the palace, three of which, inhabited by the women, seem subsequently to have been reduced to one. It is not clear whether they were all on the ground-floor, or whether they formed different stories. Mr. Fergusson, in his ingenious work on the restoration of the palaces of Nineveh, in which he has, with great learning and research, fully examined the subject of the architecture of the Assyrians and ancient Persians, endeavors to divide the Khorsabad palace, after the manner of modern Mussulman houses, into the Salamlik or apartments of the men, and the Harem, or those of the women. The division he suggests must, of course, depend upon analogy and conjecture; but it may, we think, be accepted as highly probable, until fuller and more accurate translations of the inscriptions than can yet be made may furnish us with some positive data on the subject. In the ruins of Kouyunjik there is nothing, as far as we are aware, to mark the distinction between the male and female apartments. Of a temple no remains have as yet been found at Kouyunjik, nor is there any high conical mound as at Nimroud and Khorsabad.

[445]

[446]In all the Assyrian edifices hitherto explored we find the same general plan. On the four sides of the great courts or halls are two or three narrow parallel chambers opening one into the other. Most of them have doorways at each end leading into smaller rooms, which have no other outlet. It seems highly probable that this uniform plan was adopted with reference to the peculiar architectural arrangements required by the building, and we agree with Mr. Fergusson in attributing it to the mode resorted to for lighting the apartments.

Early excavators expressed a belief that the chambers received light from the top. Although this may have been the case in some instances, yet recent discoveries now prove that the Assyrian palaces had more than one story. Such being the case, it is evident that other means must have been adopted to admit light to the inner rooms on the ground-floor. Mr. Fergusson's suggestion, that the upper part of the halls and principal chambers was formed by a row of pillars supporting the ceiling and admitting a free circulation of light and air, appears to us to meet, to a certain extent, the difficulty. It has, moreover, been borne out by subsequent discoveries, and by the representation of a large building, apparently a palace, on one side of the bas-reliefs from Kouyunjik.

Although the larger halls may have been lighted in this manner, yet the inner chambers must have remained in almost entire darkness. And it is not improbable that such was the case, to judge from modern Eastern houses, in which the rooms are purposely kept dark to mitigate the great heat. The sculptures and decorations in them could then only be properly seen by torchlight. The great courts were probably open to the sky, like the courts of the modern houses of Mosul, whose walls are also adorned with sculptured alabaster. The roofs of the large halls must have been supported by pillars of wood or brick work. It may be conjectured that there were two or three stories of [447]chambers opening into them, either by columns or by windows. Such appears to have been the case in Solomon's temple; for Josephus tells us that the great inner sanctuary was surrounded by small rooms, "over these rooms were other rooms, and others above them, equal both in their measure and numbers, and these reached to a height equal to the lower part of the house, for the upper had no buildings about it." We have also a similar arrangement of chambers in the modern houses of Persia, in which a lofty central hall, called the Iwan, of the entire height of the building, has small rooms in two or three separate stories opening by windows into it, whilst the inner chambers have no windows at all, and only receive light through the door. Sometimes these side chambers open into a center court, as we have suggested may have been the case in the Nineveh palaces, and then a projecting roof of woodwork protects the carved and painted walls from injury by the weather. Curtains and awnings were no doubt suspended above the windows and entrances in the Assyrian palaces to ward off the rays of the sun.

Although the remains of pillars have hitherto been discovered in the Assyrian ruins, we now think it highly probable, as suggested by Mr. Fergusson, that they were used to support the roof. The modern Yezidi house, in the Sinjar, is a good illustration not only of this mode of supporting the ceiling, but of the manner in which light may have been admitted into the side chambers. It is curious, however, that no stone pedestals, upon which wooden columns may have rested, have been found in the ruins; nor have marks of them been found on the pavement. We can scarcely account for the entire absence of all such traces. However, unless some support of this kind were resorted to, it is impossible that the larger halls at Kouyunjik could have been covered in. The great hall, or house, as it is rendered in the Bible, of the forest of Lebanon was thirty cubits high, upon four rows of cedar pillars with cedar beams upon the pillars. The [448]Assyrian kings, as we have seen, cut wood in the same forests as King Solomon; and probably used it for the same purpose, namely, for pillars, beams and ceilings. The dimensions of this hall, 100 cubits (about 150 feet) by 50 cubits (75 feet), very much resemble those of the center halls of the palaces of Nineveh. "The porch of pillars" was fifty cubits in length; equal, therefore, to the breadth of the hall, of which, we presume, it was a kind of inclosed space at the upper end, whilst "the porch for the throne where he might judge, even the porch of judgment * * * * covered with cedar wood from one side of the floor to the other," was probably a raised place within it, corresponding with a similar platform where the host and guests of honor are seated in a modern Eastern house. Supposing the three parts of the building to have been arranged as we have suggested, we should have an exact counterpart of them in the hall of audience of the Persian palaces. The upper part of the magnificent hall in which we have frequently seen the governor of Isfahan, was divided from the lower part by columns, and his throne was a raised place of carved headwork adorned with rich stuffs, ivory, and other precious materials. Suppliants and attendants stood outside the line of pillars, and the officers of the court within. Such also may have been the interior arrangements of the great halls in the Assyrian edifices.

We have already described the interior decorations of the Assyrian palaces, and have little more to add upon the subject. The walls of Kouyunjik were more elaborately decorated than those of Nimroud and Khorsabad. Almost every chamber explored there, and they amounted to about seventy, was paneled with alabaster slabs carved with numerous figures and with the minutest details. Each room appears to have been dedicated to some particular event, and in each, apparently, was the image of the king himself. In fact, the walls recorded in sculpture what the inscriptions did in writing—the great deeds of Sennacherib in [449]peace as well as in war. It will be remarked that, whilst in other Assyrian edifices the king is frequently represented taking an active part in war, slaying his enemies, and fighting beneath a besieged city, Sennacherib is never represented at Kouyunjik otherwise than in an attitude of triumph, in his chariot or on his throne, receiving the captives and the spoil. Nor is he ever seen torturing his prisoners, or putting them to death with his own hand.

There were chambers, however, in the palace of Sennacherib, as well as in those at Nimroud and Khorsabad, whose walls were simply coated with plaster, like the walls of Belshazzar's palace at Babylon. Some were probably richly ornamented in color with figures of men and animals, as well as with elegant designs; or others may have been paneled with cedar wainscoting, as the chambers in the temple and palaces of Solomon, and in the royal edifices of Babylon. Gilding, too, appears to have been extensively used in decoration, and some of the great sphinxes may have been overlaid with gold, like the cherubim in Solomon's temple. The cut on page 445 gives a beautiful representation of the interior of the palaces. It is taken from the halls of the palace of Sennacherib.

At Kouyunjik, the pavement slabs were not inscribed as at Nimroud; but those between the winged bulls, at some of the entrances, were carved with an elaborate and very elegant pattern. The doors were probably of wood, gilt, and adorned with precious materials, like the gates of the temple of Jerusalem, and their hinges appear to have turned in stone sockets, some of which were found in the ruins. To ward off the glare of an Eastern sun, hangings or curtains, of gay colors and of rich materials, were probably suspended to the pillars supporting the ceiling, or to wooden poles raised for the purpose, as in the palaces of Babylon and Shushan.

Layard's researches have satisfied him that a very [450]considerable period elapsed between the earliest and latest buildings discovered among the mounds of Nimroud. We incline to this opinion, but differ from the surmise that the ruins of Nimroud and the site of Nineveh itself are identical. The dimensions of Nineveh, as given by Diodorus Siculus, were 150 stadia on the two longest sides of the quadrangle, and 90 on the opposite; the square being 480 stadia, 60 miles; or, according to some, 74 miles. Layard thinks, that by taking the four great mounds of Nimroud, Kouyunjik, Khorsabad and Karamles, as the corners of a square, the four sides will correspond pretty accurately with the 60 miles of the geographer, and the three days' journey of the prophet Jonah.

The parallelogram, or line of boundary, being thus completed, we have now to ascertain how far it accords with the localities of the researches; and we find that it not only comprehends the principal mounds which have already been examined, but many others, in which ruins are either actually, or almost certainly, known to exist. Another important object of remark connected with this subject, is the thickness of the wall surrounding the palace of Khorsabad, which Botta states to be fifteen metres, i.e., forty-eight feet, nine inches, a very close approximation to the width of the wall of the city itself, which was "so broad as that three chariots might be driven upon it abreast." This is about half the thickness of the wall of Babylon, upon which "six chariots could be driven together," and which Herodotus tells were eighty-seven feet broad, or nearly double that of Khorsabad. The extraordinary dimensions of the walls of cities is supported by these remains at Khorsabad. The Median wall, still existing, in part nearly entire, and which crosses obliquely the plain of Mesopotamia from the Tigris to the banks of the Euphrates, a distance of forty miles, is another example. The great wall of China, also, of like antiquity, we are told, "traverses high mountains, deep valleys, and, by means of arches, wide [451]rivers, extending from the province of Shen Si to Wanghay, or the Yellow Sea, a distance of 1,500 miles. In some places, to protect exposed passages, it is double and treble. The foundation and corner stones are of granite, but the principal part is of blue bricks, cemented with pure white mortar. At distances of about 200 paces are distributed square towers or strong bulwarks." In less ancient times, the Roman walls in our own country supply additional proof of the universality of this mode of enclosing a district or guarding a boundary before society was established on a firm basis. It may be objected against the foregoing speculations on the boundary of Nineveh, that the river runs within the walls instead of on the outside. In reply, we submit that when the walls were destroyed, as described by the historian, the flooded river would force for itself another channel, which in process of time would become more and more devious from the obstructions offered by the accumulated ruins, until it eventually took the channel in which it now flows.

Babylon was the most beautiful and the richest city in the world. Even to our age, it stands as a marvel. It was built about 3,000 years ago, but did not reach the summit of its magnificence until about 570 years Before Christ, when Nebuchadnezzar lavished almost an endless amount of wealth upon it.

Its magnitude was 480 furlongs, or sixty miles, in compass. It was built in an exact square of fifteen miles on each side, and was surrounded by a brick wall eighty-seven feet thick and 350 feet high, on which were 250 towers, or, according to some writers, 316. The top of the wall was wide enough to allow six chariots to drive abreast. The materials for building the wall were dug from a vast ditch or moat, which was also walled up with brickwork and then filled with water from the River Euphrates. This moat was just outside of the walls, and surrounded the city as another strong defence.

The city had 100 brass gates, one at the end of each of its [452]fifty streets. The streets were 150 feet wide and ran at right angles through the city, thus forming 676 great squares. Herodotus says besides this there was yet another wall which ran around within, not much inferior to the other, yet narrower, and the city was divided into two equal parts by the River Euphrates, over which was a bridge, and at each end of the bridge was a palace. These palaces had communication with each other by a subterranean passage.

To prevent the city from suffering from an overflow of the river during the summer months, immense embankments were raised on either side, with canals to turn the flood waters of the Tigris. On the western side of the city an artificial lake was excavated forty miles square, or 160 miles in circumference, and dug out, according to Megasthenes, seventy-five feet deep, into which the river was turned when any repairs were to be made, or for a surplus of water, in case the river should be cut off from them.

Near to the old palace stood the Tower of Babel. This prodigious pile consisted of eight towers, each seventy-five feet high, rising one upon another, with an outside winding staircase to its summit, which, with its chapel on the top, reached a height of 660 feet. On this summit is where the chapel of Belus was erected, which contained probably the most expensive furniture of any in the world. One golden image forty feet high was valued at $17,500,000, and the whole of the sacred utensils were reckoned to be worth $200,000,000. There are still other wonderful things mentioned. One, the subterraneous banqueting rooms, which were made under the River Euphrates and were constructed entirely of brass; and then, as one of the seven wonders of the world, were the famous hanging gardens; they were 400 feet square and were raised 350 feet high, one terrace above the other, and were ascended by a staircase ten feet wide. The terraces were supported by large vaultings resting upon [453]curb-shaped pillars and were hollow and filled with earth, to allow trees of the largest size to be planted, the whole being constructed of baked bricks and asphalt. The entire structure was strengthened and bound together by a wall twenty-two feet in thickness. The level of the terrace was covered with large stones, over which was a bed of rushes, then a thick layer of asphalt, next two courses of bricks likewise cemented with asphalt, and finally plates of lead to prevent leakage, the earth being heaped on the platform and terrace and large trees planted. The whole had the appearance from a distance of woods overhanging mountains.

The great work is affirmed to have been effected by Nebuchadnezzar to gratify his wife, Anytis, daughter of Astyages, who retained strong predilection for the hills and groves which abounded in her native Media.

Babylon flourished for nearly 200 years in this scale of grandeur, during which idolatry, pride, cruelty, and every abomination prevailed among all ranks of the people, when God, by His prophet, pronounced its utter ruin, which was accordingly accomplished, commencing with Cyrus taking the city, after a siege of two years, in the year 588 Before Christ, to emancipate the Jews, as foretold by the prophets. By successive overthrows this once "Glory of the Chaldees' Excellency," this "Lady of Kingdoms," has become a "desolation" without an inhabitant, and its temple a vast heap of rubbish.

The ancient Tower of Babel is now a mound of oblong form, the total circumference of which is 2,286 feet. At the eastern side it is cloven by a deep furrow and is not more than fifty or sixty feet high, but on the western side it rises in a conical figure to the elevation of 198 feet, and on its summit is a solid pile of brick thirty-seven feet in height and twenty-eight in breadth, diminishing in thickness to the top, which is broken and irregular and rent by large fissures extending through a third of its height; it is perforated with small holes.

[454]The fire-burnt bricks of which it is built have inscriptions on them, and so excellent is the cement, which appears to be lime mortar, that it is nearly impossible to extract one whole. The other parts of the summit of this hill are occupied by immense fragments of brickwork of no determinate figure, tumbled together and converted into solid vitrified masses, as if they had undergone the action of the fiercest fire, or had been blown up by gunpowder, the layers of brick being perfectly discernible. These ruins surely proclaim the divinity of the Scriptures. Layard says the discoveries amongst the ruins of ancient Babylon were far less numerous and important than could have been anticipated. No sculptures or inscribed slabs, the paneling of the walls of palaces, appear to exist beneath them, as in those of Nineveh. Scarcely a detached figure in stone, or a solitary tablet, has been dug out of the vast heaps of rubbish. "Babylon is fallen, is fallen; and all the graven images of her gods he hath broken unto the ground." (Isaiah xxi. 9.)

The complete absence of such remains is to be explained by the nature of the materials used in the erection of even the most costly edifices of Babylon. In the vicinity there were no quarries of alabaster, or of limestone, such as existed near Nineveh. The city was built in the midst of an alluvial country, far removed from the hills. The deposits of the mighty rivers which have gradually formed the Mesopotamian plains consist of a rich clay. Consequently stone for building purposes could only be obtained from a distance. The black basalt, a favorite material amongst the Babylonians for carving detached figures, and for architectural ornaments, as appears from fragments found amongst the ruins, came from the Kurdish Mountains, or from the north of Mesopotamia.

The Babylonians were content to avail themselves of the building materials which they found on the spot. With the tenacious mud of their alluvial plains, mixed with chopped straw, [455]they made bricks, whilst bitumen and other substances collected from the immediate neighborhood furnished them with an excellent cement. A knowledge of the art of manufacturing glaze, and colors, enabled them to cover their bricks with a rich enamel, thereby rendering them equally ornamental for the exterior and interior of their edifices. The walls of their palaces and temples were also coated, as we learn from several passages in the Bible, with mortar and plaster, which, judging from their cement, must have been of very fine quality. The fingers of a man's hand wrote the words of condemnation of the Babylonian empire "upon the plaster of the king's palace." Upon those walls were painted historical and religious subjects, and various ornaments, and, according to Diodorus Siculus, the bricks were enameled with the figures of men and animals. Images of stone were no doubt introduced into the buildings. We learn from the Bible that figures of the gods in this material, as well as in metal, were kept in the Babylonian temples. But such sculptures were not common, otherwise more remains of them must have been discovered in the ruins. The great inscription of Nebuchadnezzar, engraved on a black stone, and divided into ten columns, in the museum formed by the East India Company, appears to contain some interesting details as to the mode of construction and architecture of the Babylonian palaces and temples.

It may be conjectured that, in their general plan, the Babylonian palaces and temples resembled those of Assyria. We know that the arts, the religion, the customs, and the laws of the two kindred people were nearly identical. They spoke, also, the same language, and used, very nearly, the same written characters. One appears to have borrowed from the other; and, without attempting to decide the question of the priority of the independent existence as a nation and of the civilization of either people, it can be admitted that they had a certain extent of [456]common origin, and that they maintained for many centuries an intimate connection. We find no remains of columns at Babylon, as none have been found at Nineveh. If such architectural ornaments were used, they must have been either of wood or of brick.

Although the building materials used in the great edifices of Babylon may seem extremely mean when compared with those employed in the stupendous palace-temples of Egypt, and even in the less massive edifices of Assyria, yet the Babylonians appear to have raised, with them alone, structures which excited the wonder and admiration of the most famous travelers of antiquity. The profuse use of color, and the taste displayed in its combination, and in the ornamental designs, together with the solidity and vastness of the immense structure upon which the buildings proudly stood, may have chiefly contributed to produce this effect upon the minds of strangers. The palaces and temples, like those of Nineveh, were erected upon lofty platforms of brickwork. The bricks, as in Assyria, were either simply baked in the sun, or were burned in the kiln. The latter are of more than one shape and quality. Some are square, others are oblong. Those from the Birs Nimroud are generally of a dark red color, while those from the Mujelibe are mostly of a light yellow. A large number of them have inscriptions in a complex cuneiform character peculiar to Babylon. These superscriptions have been impressed upon them by a stamp, on which the whole inscription was cut in relief. Each character was not made singly, as on the Assyrian bricks, and this is the distinction between them. Almost all the bricks brought from the ruins of Babylon bear the same inscription, with the exception of one or two unimportant words, and record the building of the city by Nebuchadnezzar, the son of Nabubaluchun. We owe the interpretation of these names to the late Dr. Hincks.

It may not be out of place to add a few remarks upon the [457]history of Babylon. The time of the foundation of this celebrated city is still a question which does not admit of a satisfactory determination, and into which we will not enter. Some believe it to have taken place at a comparatively recent date; but if, as the Egyptian scholars assert, the name of Babylon is found on monuments of the eighteenth Egyptian dynasty, we have positive evidence of its existence at least in the fifteenth century Before Christ. After the rise of the Assyrian empire, it appears to have been sometimes under the direct rule of the kings of Nineveh, and at other times to have been governed by its own independent chiefs. Expeditions against Babylon are recorded in the earliest inscriptions yet discovered in Assyria; and as it has been seen, even in the time of Sennacherib and his immediate predecessors, large armies were still frequently sent against its rebellious inhabitants. The Babylonian kingdom was, however, almost absorbed in that of Assyria, the dominant power of the East. When this great empire began to decline Babylon rose for the last time. Media and Persia were equally ready to throw off the Assyrian yoke, and at length the allied armies of Cyaxares and the father of Nebuchadnezzar captured and destroyed the capital of the Eastern world.

Babylon now rapidly succeeded to that proud position so long held by Nineveh. Under Nebuchadnezzar she acquired the power forfeited by her rival. The bounds of the city were extended; buildings of extraordinary size and magnificence were erected; her victorious armies conquered Syria and Palestine, and penetrated into Egypt. Her commerce, too, had now spread far and wide, from the east to the west, and she became "a land of traffic and a city of merchants."

But her greatness as an independent nation was short-lived. The neighboring kingdoms of Media and Persia, united under one monarch, had profited no less than Babylon, by the ruin of the Assyrian empire, and were ready to dispute with her the [458]dominion of Asia. Scarcely half a century had elapsed from the fall of Nineveh, when "Belshazzar, the king of the Chaldæans, was slain, and Darius, the Median, took the kingdom." From that time Babylonia sank into a mere province of Persia. It still, however, retained much of its former power and trade, and as we learn from the inscriptions of Bisutun, as well as from ancient authors, struggled more than once to regain its ancient independence.

After the defeat of Darius and the overthrow of the Persian supremacy, Babylon opened its gates to Alexander, who deemed the city not unworthy to become the capital of his mighty empire. On his return from India, he wished to rebuild the temple of Belus, which had fallen into ruins, and in that great work he had intended to employ his army, now no longer needed for war. The priests, however, who had appropriated the revenues of this sacred shrine, and feared lest they would have again to apply them to their rightful purposes, appear to have prevented him from carrying out his design.

This last blow to the prosperity and even existence of Babylon was given by Seleucus when he laid the foundation of his new capital on the banks of the Tigris (B.C. 322). Already Patrocles, his general, had compelled a large number of the inhabitants to abandon their homes, and to take refuge in the desert, and in the province of Susiana. The city, exhausted by the neighborhood of Seleucia, returned to its ancient solitude. According to some authors, neither the walls nor the temple of Belus existed any longer, and only a few of the Chaldæans continued to dwell around the ruins of their sacred edifices.

Still, however, a part of the population appear to have returned to their former seats, for, in the early part of the second century of the Christian era, we find the Parthian king, Evemerus, sending numerous families from Babylon into Media to be sold as slaves, and burning many great and beautiful edifices still standing in the city.

[459]In the time of Augustus, the city is said to have been entirely deserted, except by a few Jews who still lingered amongst the ruins. St. Cyril, of Alexandria, declares, that in his day, about the beginning of the fifth century, in consequence of the choking up of the great canals derived from the Euphrates, Babylon had become a vast marsh; and fifty years later the river is described as having changed its course, leaving only a small channel to mark its ancient bed. Then were verified the prophecies of Isaiah and Jeremiah, that the mighty Babylon should be but "pools of water," that the sea should come upon her, and that she should be covered with the multitude of the waves thereof.

In the beginning of the seventh century, at the time of the Arab invasion, the ancient cities of Babylonia were "a desolation, a dry land and a wilderness." Amidst the heaps that alone marked the site of Babylon there rose the small town of Hillah.

Long before Babylon had overcome her rival Nineveh, she was famous for the extent and importance of her commerce. No position could have been more favorable than hers for carrying on a trade with all the regions of the known world. She stood upon a navigable stream that brought to her quays the produce of the temperate highlands of Armenia, approached in one part of its course within almost one hundred miles of the Mediterranean Sea, and emptied its waters into a gulf of the Indian Ocean. Parallel with this great river was one scarcely inferior in size and importance. The Tigris, too, came from the Armenian hills, flowed through the fertile districts of Assyria, and carried the varied produce to the Babylonian cities. Moderate skill and enterprise could scarcely fail to make Babylon, not only the emporium of the Eastern world, but the main link of commercial intercourse between the East and the West.

The inhabitants did not neglect the advantages bestowed upon them by nature. A system of navigable canals that may [460]excite the admiration of even the modern engineer, connected together the Euphrates and Tigris, those great arteries of her commerce.

The vast trade that rendered Babylon the gathering-place of men from all parts of the known world, and supplied her with luxuries from the remotest clime, had the effect of corrupting the manners of her people, and producing that general profligacy and those effiminate customs which mainly contributed to her fall. The description given by Herodotus of the state of the population of the city when under the dominion of the Persian kings, is sufficient to explain the cause of her speedy decay and ultimate ruin. The account of the Greek historian fully tallies with the denunciation of the Hebrew prophets against the sin and wickedness of Babylon. Her inhabitants had gradually lost their warlike character. When the Persian broke into their city they were reveling in debauchery and lust; and when the Macedonian conqueror appeared at their gates, they received with indifference the yoke of a new master.

Such were the causes of the fall of Babylon. Her career was equally short and splendid; and although she has thus perished from the face of the earth, her ruins are still classic, indeed sacred, ground. The traveler visits, with no common emotion, those shapeless heaps, the scene of so many great and solemn events. In this plain, according to tradition, the primitive families of our race first found a resting place. Here Nebuchadnezzar boasted of the glories of his city, and was punished for his pride. To these deserted halls were brought the captives of Judæa. In them Daniel, undazzled by the glories around him, remained steadfast to his faith, rose to be a governor amongst his rulers, and prophesied the downfall of the kingdom. There was held Belshazzar's feast, and was seen the writing on the wall. Between those crumbling mounds Cyrus entered the neglected gates. Those massive ruins cover the spot where Alexander died.

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[461]

Karnac and Baalbec.

The city of Thebes is, perhaps, the most astonishing work executed by the hand of man. Its ruins are the most unequivocal proof of the ancient civilization of Egypt, and of the high degree of power which the Egyptians had reached by the extent of their knowledge. Its origin is lost in the obscurity of time, it being coeval with the nation which first took possession of Egypt; and it is sufficient to give a proper idea of its antiquity to say that the building of Memphis was the first attempt made to rival the prosperity of Thebes.

Its extent was immense; it filled the whole valley which was permeated by the Nile. D'Anville and Denon state its circumference to have been thirty-six miles; its diameter not less than ten and a half. The number of its inhabitants was in proportion to these vast dimensions. Diodorus says that the houses were four and five stories high. Although Thebes had greatly fallen off from its ancient splendor at the time of Cambyses, yet it was the fury of this merciless conqueror that gave the last blow to its grandeur. This prince pillaged the temples, carried away all the ornaments of gold, silver, and ivory, which decorated its magnificent buildings, and ruined both its temples and its buildings. Before this unfortunate epoch, no city in the world could be compared with it in extent, splendor, and riches; and, according to the expression of Diodorus, the sun had never seen so magnificent a city.

Previous to the establishment of the monarchical [462]government, Thebes was the residence of the principal college of the priesthood, who ruled over the country. It is to this epoch that all writers refer the elevation of its most ancient edifices. The enumeration of them all would require more time than we have.

Here was the temple, or palace of Karnac, of Luxor; the Memnonium; and the Medineh-Tabou, or, as some other travelers spell it, Medinet-habou.

The temple, or the palace of Karnac was, without doubt, the most considerable monument of ancient Thebes. It was not less than a mile and a half in circumference, and enclosed about ten acres. M. Denon employed nearly twenty minutes on horseback in going round it, at full gallop. The principal entrance of the grand temple is on the northwest side, or that facing the river. From a raised platform commences an avenue of Crio-sphinxes leading to the front propyla, before which stood two granite statues of a Pharaoh. One of these towers retains a great part of its original height, but has lost its summit and cornice. Passing through the pylon of these towers you arrive at a large open court, or area, 275 feet by 329 feet, with a covered corridor on either side, and a double line of columns down the centre. Other propylæa terminate this area, with a small vestibule before the pylon, and form the front of the grand hall of assembly, the lintel stones of whose doorway were forty feet ten inches in length. The grand hall, or hypostyle hall, measures 170 feet by 329 feet, supported by a central avenue of twelve massive columns, 62 feet high (without the plinth or abacus), and 36 feet in circumference; besides 122 of smaller, or, rather less gigantic dimensions, 42 feet 5 inches in height, and 28 feet in circumference, distributed in seven lines, on either side of the former. It had in front two immense courts, adorned by ranges of columns, some of which were sixty feet high, and others eighty; and at their respective entrances there were two colossal statues on the same scale. In the middle of the second court there were four obelisks of granite of a finished workmanship, three of which are still standing. They stood before the sanctuary, built all of granite, and covered with sculptures representing symbolical attributes of the god to whom the temple was consecrated. This was the Maker of the universe, the Creator of all things, the Zeus of the Greeks, the Jupiter of the Latins, but the Ammon of the Egyptians. By the side of the sanctuary there were smaller buildings, probably the apartments of those attached to the service of the temple; and behind it other habitations, adorned with columns and porticos, which led into another immense court, having on each side closed passages, or corridors, and at the top a covered portico, or gallery, supported by a great number of columns and pilasters. In this way the sanctuary was entirety surrounded by these vast and splendid buildings, and the whole was enclosed by a wall, covered internally and externally with symbols and hieroglyphics, which went round the magnificent edifice.

[463]

[464]Beyond this wall there were other buildings, and other courts, filled with colossal statues of grey and white marble. These buildings, or temples, communicated with each other by means of galleries and passages, adorned with columns and statues. The most striking circumstance, however, is, that attached to this palace are the remains of a much more considerable edifice, of higher antiquity, which had been introduced into the general plan when this magnificent building was restored by the Pharaoh Amenophis, the third king of the eighteenth dynasty, nearly 4,000 years ago. This more ancient edifice, or rather its ruins, are considered to be more than 4,000 years old, or 2,272 years Before Christ. A second wall enclosed the whole mass of these immense and splendid buildings, the approach to which was by means of avenues, having on their right and left colossal figures of sphinxes. In one avenue they had the head [465]of a bull; in another they were represented with a human head; in a third with a ram's head. This last was a mile and a half in length, began at the southern gate, and led to the temple of Luxor.

Dr. Manning says: "We now enter the most stupendous pile of remains (we can hardly call them ruins) in the world. Every writer who has attempted to describe them avows his inability to convey any adequate idea of their extent and grandeur. The long covered avenues of sphinxes, the sculptured corridors, the columned aisles, the gates and obelisks, and colossal statues, all silent in their desolation, fill the beholder with awe." (See cut on page 463.)

There is no exaggeration in Champollion's words: "The imagination, which, in Europe, rises far above our porticos, sinks abashed at the foot of the 140 columns of the hypostyle hall at Karnac. The area of this hall is 70,629 feet; the central columns are thirty-six feet in circumference and sixty-two feet high, without reckoning the plinth and abacus. They are covered with paintings and sculptures, the colors of which are wonderfully fresh and vivid. If, as seems probable, the great design of Egyptian architecture was to impress man with a feeling of his own littleness, to inspire a sense of overwhelming awe in the presence of the Deity, and at the same time to show that the monarch was a being of superhuman greatness, these edifices were well adapted to accomplish their purpose. The Egyptian beholder and worshiper was not to be attracted and charmed, but overwhelmed. His own nothingness and the terribleness of the power and the will of God was what he was to feel. But, if the awfulness of Deity was thus inculcated, the divine power of the Pharaoh was not less strikingly set forth. He is seen seated amongst them, nourished from their breasts, folded in their arms, admitted to familiar intercourse with them. He is represented on the walls of the temple as of colossal stature, while the noblest [466]of his subjects are but pigmies in his presence; with one hand he crushes hosts of his enemies, with the other he grasps that of his patron deity.

"The Pharaoh was the earthly manifestation and avatar of the unseen and mysterious power which oppressed the souls of man with terror. 'I am Pharaoh,' 'By the life of Pharaoh,' 'Say unto Pharaoh whom art thou like in thy greatness.' These familiar phrases of Scripture gain a new emphasis of meaning as we remember them amongst these temple palaces."

Speaking of this magnificent temple, and of the avenue of sphinxes we have just mentioned, Belzoni exclaims, that "on approaching it the visitor is inspired with devotion and piety; their enormous size strikes him with wonder and respect to the gods to whom they were dedicated. The immense colossal statues, which are seated at each side of the gate, seems guarding the entrance to the holy ground; still farther on was the majestic temple, dedicated to the great God of the creation." And a little after, "I was lost," says he, "in a mass of colossal objects, every one of which was more than sufficient of itself alone to attract my whole attention. I seemed alone in the midst of all that is most sacred in the world; a forest of enormous columns, adorned all round with beautiful figures and various ornaments from top to bottom. The graceful shape of the lotus, which forms their capitals, and is so well-proportioned to the columns, that it gives to the view the most pleasing effect; the gates, the walls, the pedestals, and the architraves also adorned in every part with symbolical figures in basso relievo and intaglio, representing battles, processions, triumphs, feasts, offerings, and sacrifices, all relating to the ancient history of the country; the sanctuary, wholly formed of fine red granite, with the various obelisks standing before it, proclaiming to the distant passenger, 'Here is the seat of holiness;' the high portals, seen at a distance from the openings of the vast labyrinth of edifices; [467]the various groups of ruins of the other temples within sight; these altogether had such an effect upon my soul as to separate me, in imagination, from the rest of mortals, exalt me on high over all, and cause me to forget entirely the trifles and follies of life. I was happy for a whole day, which escaped like a flash of lightning."

Such is the language of Belzoni in describing these majestic ruins, and the effect they had upon him. Strong and enthusiastic as his expressions may, perhaps, appear, they are perfectly similar, we assure you, to those of other travelers. They all seem to have lost the power of expressing their wonder and astonishment, and frequently borrow the words and phrases of foreign nations to describe their feelings at the sight of these venerable and gigantic efforts of the old Egyptians.

We have said that this avenue of sphinxes led to the temple of Luxor.

This second temple, though not equal to that of Karnac in regard to its colossal proportions, was its equal in magnificence, and much superior to it in beauty and style of execution.

At its entrance there still stand two obelisks 100 feet high, and of one single block covered with hieroglyphics executed in a masterly style. It is at the feet of these obelisks that one may judge of the high degree of perfection to which the Egyptians had carried their knowledge in mechanics. We have seen that it costs fortunes to move them from their place. They were followed by two colossal statues forty feet high. After passing through three different large courts, filled with columns of great dimensions, the traveler reached the sanctuary, surrounded by spacious halls supported by columns, and exhibiting the most beautiful mass of sculpture in the best style of execution.

"It is absolutely impossible," again exclaims Belzoni, "to imagine the scene displayed, without seeing it. The most [468]sublime ideas that can be formed from the most magnificent specimens of our present architecture, would give a very incorrect picture of these ruins. It appeared to me like entering a city of giants, who, after a long conflict, were all destroyed, leaving ruins of their various temples, as the only proofs of their former existence. The temple of Luxor," he adds, "presents to the traveler at once one of the most splendid groups of Egyptian grandeur. The extensive propylæon, with the two obelisks, and colossal statues in the front; the thick groups of enormous columns, the variety of apartments, and the sanctuary it contains. The beautiful ornaments which adorn every part of the walls and columns, cause in the astonished traveler an oblivion of all that he has seen before."

So far Belzoni; and in this he is borne out by Champollion, who speaks of Thebes in terms of equal admiration. "All that I had seen, all that I had admired on the left bank," says this learned Frenchman, "appeared miserable in comparison with the gigantic conceptions by which I was surrounded at Karnac. I shall take care not to attempt to describe any thing; for either my description would not express the thousandth part of what ought to be said, or, if I drew a faint sketch, I should be taken for an enthusiast, or, perhaps, for a madman. It will suffice to add, that no people, either ancient or modern, ever conceived the art of architecture on so sublime and so grand a scale as the ancient Egyptians."

The Great Pyramid, which is yet an enigma, stands for our astonishment. Herodotus tells us, when speaking of the Labyrinth of Egypt, that it had 3,000 chambers, half of them above and half below ground. He says, "The upper chambers I myself passed through and saw, and what I say concerning them is from my own observation. Of the underground chambers I can only speak from the report, for the keepers of the building could not be got to show them, since they contained, as they said, the [469]sepulchres of the kings who built the labyrinth, and also those of the sacred crocodiles; thus it is from hearsay only that I can speak of the lower chambers. The upper chambers, however, I saw with my own eyes, and found them to excel all other human productions. The passage through the houses, and the various windings of the path across the courts, excited in me infinite admiration, as I passed from the courts into the chambers, and from chambers into colonnades, and from colonnades into fresh houses, and again from these into courts unseen before. The roof was throughout of stone like the walls, and the walls were carved all over with figures. Every court was surrounded with a colonnade, which was built of white stone exquisitely fitted together. At the corner of the labyrinth stands a pyramid forty fathoms high, with large figures engraved on it, which is entered by a subterranean passage." No one who has read an account of the Great Pyramid of Egypt, the building of Solomon's Temple, and of the ruins of ancient stone buildings still remaining, will doubt the ability of the ancients in the art of building with stones. Baalbec has probably the largest stones ever used.

Baalbec is situated on a plain now called Bukaa, at the northern end of a low range of black hills, about one mile from the base of Anti-Lebanon.

It is unknown just how old it is, or by whom it was built. Dr. Kitto, in his "History of the Bible," ascribes the building of it to Solomon. But the present remains are mostly of a later period, probably about 3,000 years old. Some of the material [470]and some of the original foundations were used again for the second structures.

Baalbec has justly received a world-wide celebrity, owing to the magnificence of its ruins, which have excited the wonder and admiration of travelers who have enjoyed the privilege of seeing them. Its temples are among the most magnificent of Grecian architecture. The temples of Athens no doubt excel them in taste and purity of style, but they are vastly inferior in dimensions.

While the edifices of Thebes exceed them in magnitude, they bear no comparison with the symmetry of the columns, with the richness of the doorways, and the friezes, which abound at Baalbec. The foundations of the great temple are themselves entitled to rank with the pyramids among the wonders of the world, being raised twenty feet above the level of the ground, and have in them stones of one solid mass ninety feet long, eighteen feet wide, and thirteen feet thick.

The main attractions, however, are the three temples or main chambers. The first, which may be called the great temple, consists of a peristyle, of which only six columns remain, two courts and a portico are standing on an artificial platform, nearly thirty feet high, and having vaults underneath. Beneath the whole platform is an immense court of two hundred feet across; it is a hexagon or nearly round shape. It is accessible by a vaulted passage, which leads to a triplet gateway, with deep mouldings, which opens into the first court.

The great court is 440 feet long by 370 feet wide, and has on each of its sides niches and columns, which, even in their ruins, are magnificent.

The two sides exactly correspond with each other, but the south is in better condition than the other. These niches have columns in front of them in the style of the hexagon, with chambers at the angles of the great court or square. The visitor [471]entering through the portico, and passing into the great court, has before him on the opposite side (the west) of the court, the Great Temple originally dedicated to Baal. This was a magnificent peristyle measuring 290 feet by 160 feet, with nineteen huge columns on each side, and ten on each end, making fifty-eight in all. The circumference of these columns at the base is twenty-three feet and two inches, and at the top twenty feet; and their height, including base and capital, was seventy-five feet, while over this was the entablature fourteen feet more. In the walls of the foundation are seen those enormous stones, some ninety feet in length; others, sixty-four, sixty-three, sixty-two, etc., and all from thirteen to eighteen feet wide, and very frequently thirteen feet thick. These stones mark the extent of a platform of unknown antiquity, but far older than the peristyle temple, and it is from this that the temple took its early date and name. It is probable that the great stones lying in the adjoining quarry were intended for it, as the temple at that date seems to have been left unfinished.

The second temple has not quite the dimensions that the first has, but it is one of the grandest monuments of the ancient art in Syria. It is 227 feet by 117. Its peristyle is composed of forty-two columns, fifteen on each side and eight on each end. At the portico was an immense row of six fluted columns, and within these, and opposite to the ends of the antæ, were two others. The height of these columns is sixty-five feet, and their circumference nineteen feet and two inches, while the entablature, richly ornamented above the columns, was about twelve feet high.

The portico is destroyed, only a few pieces of the shafts remaining, and the steps by which it was approached are also destroyed. The columns of the peristyle have mostly fallen; but four remain with their entablatures on the south side near the portico; on the west end there are six remaining, and on the [472]north there are nine. The cut on page 473 gives somewhat of an idea of this temple.

In 1759 an earthquake threw down three columns of the great temple and nine of the peristyle of the Temple of the Sun. It would appear as though nothing but an earthquake could destroy these remains, and they even seem to withstand this with wonderful resistance. At the western end is the cella, or innermost sacred part of the edifice, it is 160 feet by 85. A modern wall was built across the vestibule and the only entrance is through a low hole broken in the wall. Entering through this aperture the spectator has before him the gem of the structure, the great portal. It was twenty-one feet high and forty-two feet long and gorgeously ornamented. The sides are each of a single stone, and the lintels are composed of three huge blocks. Borders of fruit, flowers and leaves are profuse on the architrave, and on the soffit of the door is the celebrated figure of the eagle with a caduceus in his talons, and in his beak strings of long twisted garlands, which are extended on each side and have the opposite ends borne by flying genii.

In 1751 the portal was perfect. When Wood sketched it, but eight years afterwards, the shock of an earthquake rent the wall and permitted the central stone to sink about two feet. Yet, even in this state, it is one of the most striking and beautiful gateways in the world. The first compartment measures ninety-eight feet by sixty-seven, having fluted columns on each side, and the sanctum, or place for the altar and statue, occupies a space of twenty-nine feet deep at the western end and considerably raised above the floor of the nave. Such were the arrangements of this vast magnificent edifice.

It may be well to mention here another building although not so old nor large, but we wish to speak of it because it is so remarkable in withstanding time.

[473]

We are speaking of the Pantheon, the splendid building [474]erected by M. Agrippa, the friend of Augustus, in immediate connection with the Thermæ, built and dedicated to Jupiter Ultor by him. This building, which embodied, as it were, the highest aspirations of Roman national pride and power, was completed, according to the original inscription preserved on it, B.C. 25, in which year Agrippa was consul for the third time. According to the statement of Pliny ("His. Nat.," 36, 24, I), which however, has been disputed, it was originally dedicated to Jupiter Ultor, whose statue, therefore, undoubtedly stood in the chief niche opposite the entrance. The other six niches contained the statues of as many gods; those of the chief deities of the Julian family, Mars and Venus, and of the greatest son of that family, the divine Cæsar, being the only ones amongst the number of which we have certain knowledge. Was it that the statues of Mars and Venus showed the attributes of the other principal gods, or that the statues of the latter stood in the small chapels (ædiculæ) between the niches, or that the unequaled enormous cupola was supposed to represent heaven, that is, the house of all the gods? Certain it is that, together with the old appellation the new name of the Pantheon, i.e., temple of all the gods, was soon applied to the building. The latter name has been unanimously adopted by posterity, and has even originated the Christian destination of the edifice as church of all the martyrs (S. Maria ad Martyres). Without entering into the consecutive changes the building has undergone in the course of time, we will now attempt a description of its principal features. The temple consists of two parts, the round edifice and the portico. The former was 132 feet in diameter, exclusive of the thickness of the wall, which amounts to 19 feet. The wall is perfectly circular, and contains eight apertures, one of which serves as entrance, while the others form, in a certain order, either semicircular or quadrangular niches; the former are covered by semi-cupolas, the latter by barrel-vaults. Only the niche opposite the entrance is, [475]at the present time, uninterrupted, and open up to its full height, thus corresponding with the formation of the entrance section; in front of each of the others, two columns have been erected, the beams of which close the opening of the semicircular vault. To this chief portion of the building is attached the splendid portico which, in the manner of the above-mentioned temples, projects by three columns, besides a massive wall-structure. The frontage [476]shows eight columns. As a rule, the whole space of the pronaos was without columns; contrary to the rule we here see it divided into three naves by means of two pairs of columns. The center nave, which was also the widest, led to the entrance-door, each of the two others being terminated by an enormous niche. Not to mention æsthetical considerations, these columns were required as props of the roof covering the vast space (the portico is about 100 feet long).

The columns of the portico carried beams, on the frieze of which the following inscription in large letters has been placed: M·AGRIPPA·L·F·COS·TERTIUM·FECIT. Another inscription below this one, in smaller characters, states the building to have been restored by Septimius Severus and Caracalla. The beams carry a large pediment, originally adorned with groups of statues representing Jupiter's victories over the Gigantes. Behind and above this gable rises a second one of the same proportions, serving as an ornament of the projecting wall which connects the round building with the portico. The roof of the portico was supported by beams made of brass. According to the drawing of Serlio, these beams were not massive, but consisted of brass plates riveted together into square pipes—a principle frequently applied by modern engineers on a larger scale in building bridges, etc. Unfortunately, the material of the roof, barring some of the large rivets, has been used by Pope Urban VIII. for guns and various ornaments of doubtful taste in St. Peter's Cathedral. The large columns carrying the ugly tabernacle on the grave of St. Peter are one of the results of this barbarous spoliation. The old door, also made of brass, which leads from the portico into the interior has, on the contrary, been preserved. The outer appearance of the round building is simple and dignified. It most likely was originally covered with stucco and terra-cotta ornaments, of which, however, little remains at present; but the simple bricks, particularly in the upper stripes, [477]where the insertion of the vault becomes visible, look, perhaps, quite as beautiful as the original coating. The whole cylinder of masonry is divided into three stripes by means of cornices, which break the heaviness of the outline, the divisions of the inner space corresponding to those of the outer surface. The first of these stripes is about forty feet high, and rests on a base of Travertine freestone. It consists of simple horizontal slabs of stone, broken only by doors which lead to chambers built in the thickness of the wall between the niches. It corresponds to the columns forming the first story of the interior, the two cornices, in and outside, being on a level. The second stripe, about thirty feet in height, answers to the second story of the interior, where the semicircular arches of the niches are situated. The horizontal stone layers outside are accordingly broken by large double arches, destined to balance the vaults in the interior. They alternate with smaller arches, thus forming a decoration of the exterior at once dignified and in harmony with the general design of the building. The two cornices in and outside are again on a level. The third stripe corresponds to the cupola, the tension of which is equal to 140 feet. The outer masonry reaches up to about a third of its height, from which point the cupola proper begins to rise in seven mighty steps.

The height of the dome is equal to the diameter of the cylindrical building, 132 feet, which adds to the sober and harmonious impression of the whole building. The lower of the [478]above-mentioned interior stories is adorned with columns and pilasters, the latter of which enclosed the niches. Eight of these columns, over thirty-two feet in height, are monoliths of giallo antico—a yellow kind of marble beautifully veined, and belonging to the most valuable materials used by ancient architects. Six other columns are made of a kind of marble known as pavonazzetto; by an ingenious mode of coloring these columns are made to harmonize with those consisting of the rarer material. Above the first lies a second lower story, the architectural arrangements of which may be recognized from Adler's ingenious attempt at reconstruction. Its original decoration consisted of tablets of [479]colored marble, the effect being similar to that of a sequence of narrow pilasters. This original decoration has later been changed for another. Above the chief cornice which crowns this story, and at the same time terminates the circular walls, rises the cupola, divided into five stripes, each of which contains twenty-five "caskets" beautifully worked and in excellent perspective. In the center at the top is an opening, forty feet in diameter, through which the light enters the building. Near this opening a fragment has been preserved of the bronze ornamentation which once seems to have covered the whole cupola. Even without these elegant decorations the building still excites the spectator's admiration, as one of the masterpieces of Roman genius.

Obelisks were in Egypt commemorative pillars recording the style and the title of the king who erected them, his piety, and the proof he gave of it in dedicating those monoliths to the deity whom he especially wished to honor. They are made of a single block of stone, cut into a quadrilateral form, the width diminishing gradually from the base to the top of the shaft, which terminates in a small pyramid (pyramidion). They were placed on a plain square pedestal, but larger than the obelisk itself. Obelisks are of Egyptian origin. The Romans and the moderns have imitated them, but they never equaled their models.

Egyptian obelisks are generally made of red granite of Syene. There are some, however, of smaller dimensions made of sandstone and basalt. They were generally placed in pairs at the entrances of temples, on each side of the propyla. The shaft was commonly ten diameters in height, and a fourth narrower at the top than at the base. Of the two which were before the palace of Luxor at Thebes, one is seventy-two feet high, and six feet, two inches wide at the base; the other is seventy-seven feet high, and seven feet, eight inches wide. Each face is adorned with hieroglyphical inscriptions in intaglio, and the summit is terminated by a pyramid, the four sides of which represent [480]religious scenes, also accompanied by inscriptions. The corners of the obelisks are sharp and well cut, but their faces are not perfectly plane, and their slight convexity is a proof of the attention the Egyptians paid to the construction of their monuments. If their faces were plane they would appear concave to the eye; the convexity compensates for this optical illusion. The hieroglyphical inscriptions are in a perpendicular line, sometimes there is but one in the middle of the breadth of the face, and often there are three. The inscription was a commemoration by the king who had the temple or palace built before which the obelisk was placed. It contained a record stating the houses and titles which the king who erected, enlarged, or gave rich presents to a temple, had received in return from the priesthood, and setting forth, for instance, that Rameses was the lord of an obedient people, and the beloved of Ammon. Such is the subject of the inscription which is in the middle of each face of the obelisks; and though the name of the same king and the same events are repeated on the four sides, there exists in the four texts, when compared, some difference, either in the invocation to the particular divinities or in the titles of the king. Every obelisk had, in its original form, but a single inscription on each face, and of the same period of the king who had erected it; but a king who came after him, adding a court, a portico, or colonnade to the temple or palace, had another inscription relative to his addition, with his name engraved on the original obelisk; thus, every obelisk adorned with many inscriptions is of several periods. The pyramidion which terminates them generally represents in its sculptures the king who erected the obelisk making different offerings to the principal deity of the temple, and to other divinities. Sometimes also the offering is of the obelisk itself. The short inscriptions of the pyramidion bear the oval of the king and the name of the divinity. By these ovals can be known the names of the kings who erected the obelisks still existing, [481]whether in Egypt or elsewhere. The largest obelisk known is that of St. John Lateran, Rome. It was brought from Heliopolis to Alexandria by the emperor Constantine, and was conveyed to Rome by Constantius, who erected it in the Circus Maximus. The height of the shaft is 105 feet, 7 inches. The sides are of [482]unequal breadth at the base, two measure nine feet, eight and one-half inches, the other two only nine feet. It bears the name of Thohtmes III. in the central, and that of Thohtmes IV. in the lateral lines, kings of the eighteenth dynasty, in the fifteenth century B.C. The two obelisks at Luxor were erected by the king Rameses II., of the nineteenth dynasty, 1311 B.C. (Wilkinson). One of these has been taken to Paris. The obelisk of Heliopolis bears the name of Osirtasen I., 2020 B.C. (Wilkinson), and is consequently the most ancient. It is about sixty-seven feet high. The obelisks at Alexandria were brought from Heliopolis about 2,000 years ago. The one that was lying in the sand, and the smaller of the two, was removed to London some years ago, and the other, which was still standing, was presented to the United States by Ismail Pasha, father of the present Khedive. This monument of antiquity is an inestimable treasure to our country. It bears the name of Thohtmes III. In the lateral lines are the ovals of Rameses the Great. It is of red granite of Syene. It bears the name of Cleopatra's Needle, is about seventy feet high, with a diameter at its base of seven feet, seven inches. We can hardly appreciate that we should have standing in New York a relic so ancient—a column upon which Moses and Aaron looked, and doubtless read its hieroglyphic inscription; that Rameses the Great (Sesostris) had his knightly banner carved upon it; that Darius, Cambyses, Alexander the Great, the Ptolemies, Julius Cæsar, Cleopatra, Mark Antony and Augustus knew it; that it was equally known and beheld of Pythagoras, Herodotus and Strabo; that a long procession of the most illustrious characters of the middle ages have passed before it, from the days of Clement and Anastasius to those of Don John of Austria; and, finally, that it was the first herald of Egypt to Napoleon and Mohammed Ali. A monument like this will truly be cherished by every citizen. The obelisk of the Piazza del Popolo claims great interest, as it [483]also stood before the Temple of the Sun at Heliopolis. Lepsius attributes it to Meneptha. It was removed to Rome by Augustus, B.C. 19, to ornament the Circus Maximus. The obelisk in front of St. Peter's was brought to Rome by Caligula, and placed on the Vatican in the Circus of Caligula. It is about eighty-three feet high. There are several other Egyptian obelisks in Rome. Nothing can afford a greater idea of the skill of the Egyptians, and of their wonderful knowledge of mechanism, than the erection of these monoliths.

The Greeks never made obelisks outside of Egypt. The Macedonian kings, or Ptolemies, who reigned in that country, from Alexander to Augustus, erected, terminated, or enlarged many monuments, but always according to Egyptian rules. Egyptian artists executed obelisks for their Greek princes, but they did not depart, any more than in the other monuments, from their ancient customs. The Egyptian style and proportions are always to be recognized, and the inscriptions are also traced in hieroglyphics. The obelisk found at Philæ was erected in honor of Ptolemy Evergetes II. and of Cleopatra, his sister, or Cleopatra, his wife, and placed on a base bearing a Greek inscription relating the reason and occasion of this monument. It was removed from Philæ by Belzoni, and has been now erected at Kingston Hall, Dorset, by Mr. Bankes. It is very far from equaling the Pharaonic obelisks in dimensions, it being only twenty-two feet high.

After the Romans had made Egypt a Roman province they carried away some of its obelisks. Augustus was the first who conceived the idea of transporting these immense blocks to Rome; he was imitated by Caligula, Constantine, and others. They were generally erected in some circus. Thirteen remain at the present day at Rome, some of which are of the time of the Roman domination in Egypt. The Romans had obelisks made in honor of their princes, but the material and the [484]workmanship of the inscriptions cause them to be easily distinguished from the more ancient obelisks. The Barberini obelisk, on the Monte Pincio, is of this number; it bears the names of Adrian, of Sabina, his wife, and of Antinous, his favorite. The obelisk of the Piazza Navona, from the style of its hieroglyphics, is supposed to be a Roman work of the time of Domitian. The name of Santus Rufus can be read on the Albani obelisk, now at Munich, and as there are two Roman prefects of Egypt known of that name, it was, therefore, one of those magistrates who had executed in that country these monuments in honor of the reigning emperors, and then had them sent to Rome. The Romans also attempted to make obelisks at Rome; such is the obelisk of the Trinita de' Monti, which formerly stood in the Circus of Sallust. It is a bad copy of that of the Porta del Popolo. The Roman emperors in the east had also some Egyptian obelisks transported to Constantinople. Fragments of two of these monuments have been found in Sicily, at Catania; one of them has eight sides, but it is probably not a genuine Egyptian work. The use of the obelisk as a gnomon, and the erection of it on a high base in the center of an open space, were only introduced on the removal of single obelisks to Rome.

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[485]

RELIGION OR MYTHOLOGY.ToC

Mythology is from the word myth, meaning fable, it is therefore a system of fabulous opinions and doctrines respecting the deities which the heathen nations have supposed to preside over the world or to influence its affairs.

They had twelve gods, Jupiter, Neptune, Pluto, Mercury, Mars, Vulcan, Apollo, Diana, Minerva, Juno, Ceres and Vesta. Besides these there were other lesser gods, Bacchus, Isis, Hebe, the Muses and the Fates, etc.; also Sleep, Dreams and Death; and there were still others who had free will and intelligence, and having mixed forms, such as the Pegasus, or winged horse, the Centaur, half man and half horse, Hydra, etc.

The Greek theory of the origin of things was that the beginning was chaos laden with the seed of all nature, then came the Earth and the Heavens, or Uranus; these two were married and from this union came a numerous and powerful brood. First were the six Titans, all males, and then the six females, and the Cyclops, three in number; these latter were of gigantic size, having but one eye, and that in the center of the forehead. They represented Thunder, Lightning and Fire, or the rapid flame.

The Titans made war upon their father and wounded him, and from the drops of blood which flowed from the wound and [486]fell upon the earth sprang the Furies, whose names signified "Unceasing," "Envier," and "Blood-Avenger;" and the Giants and melian Nymphs, and from the blood drops which fell into the sea sprang Venus, the goddess of love and beauty.

The youngest and bravest son, Saturn, who wounded and dethroned his father, was, by the consent of his brethren, permitted to reign with an understanding that his male children should all be destroyed. But his wife, Rhea, hid from him three of her sons, Jupiter, Neptune and Pluto, who, waging a ten-year war against their father, finally dethroned him and divided the kingdom among themselves. The oldest, Jupiter, had the heavens, and reigned over all gods, Neptune over the sea, and Pluto the lower regions.

Jupiter then built his courts on Mount Olympos, reigned supreme god over heaven and earth; he was called the father of man and gods, and is placed at the head of the entire creation.

He is generally represented as majestic in appearance, seated on a throne with a sceptre in one hand and thunderbolts in the other. Jupiter had a number of wives; he also married his sister Juno, who was the queen goddess. Besides Jupiter, Juno, Neptune and Pluto the other eight gods were the children of Jupiter.

Neptune was second to Jupiter in power. He is represented as carrying a trident or three-tined fork, with which he strikes the earth and shakes it; he is therefore often called the "earth-shaker." He is usually represented like Jupiter, of a serene and majestic aspect, seated in a chariot made of shells and drawn by dolphins and sea-horses, while the Tritons and the Nymphs gambol about him.

Pluto is represented as the grim, stern ruler over hell. He is also called Hades and Orcus. He has a throne of sulphur, from beneath which flows the Rivers Lethe, or "Oblivion," Phlegethon, Cocytus and Acheron. In one hand he holds his fork and in the other the keys of hell, and beside him is the dog with [487]three heads. He is described as being well qualified for his position, being inexorable and deaf to supplications, and an object of aversion and hatred to both gods and men. From his realms there is no return, and all mankind, sooner or later, are sure to be gathered into his kingdom.

As none of the goddesses would marry the stern and gloomy god, he seized Proserpine, the daughter of Ceres, while she was gathering flowers, and opened the earth and carried her through into his dominion.

Mercury was the messenger and ambassador of the gods. He was represented by wings on his hat, and sandals, and usually carrying a wand, or staff, with two serpents twined around it. He himself was a god of eloquence and the patron of orators, merchants, thieves, robbers, travelers and shepherds.

Mars was the god of war. Sorrow and fear accompanied him, disorder and discord in tattered garments go before him and anger and clamor follow. He is of huge size and gigantic strength, and his voice was louder than those of ten thousand mortals.

Vulcan was the forger, and is generally represented at an anvil in a short tunic, with a hammer in his right hand. He was lame when he was born, and his mother, Juno, was so shocked that she flung him headlong from the Mt. Olympos.

Apollo was the god of archery, prophecy and music, and is usually seen with a harp in his hand and of beautiful figure.

Diana was the goddess of chase, and appears with a bow in her hand and a quiver of arrows at her back, and on her side is a hound. She devoted herself to perpetual celibacy, and her chief joy was to speed like a Dorian maid over the hills, followed by a train of nymphs in pursuit of the flying game.

Minerva is the goddess of wisdom and skill, and the teacher in warfare. She has a serious and thoughtful countenance, a spear in one hand and a shield in the other, while a helmet covers her head. She is said to have sprung from the brains of Jupiter.

[488]Juno, the wife of Jupiter, was haughty, jealous and inexorable; a goddess of dignified and matronly air, often found with a peacock at her feet.

Ceres is the goddess of grain and harvest. She is represented riding on a chariot drawn by dragons, and distributing grain to the different regions of the earth. She holds in one hand corn and wheat, in the other a lighted torch, and wears on her head a garland of wheat heads.

After Pluto stole her daughter, Proserpine, she searched for her throughout the whole world.

Vesta, the goddess of the household and domestic hearths, is represented in a long-flowing robe, with a veil on her head, a lamp in one hand, and a spear or javelin in the other. In her temple at Rome, the sacred fire was guarded by six priestesses, called the Vestal Virgins.

Among the lesser gods there were many, but the most common was Bacchus, who was the god of lust, wine, and the patron of drunkenness and debauchery. He is represented as an effeminate young man, with long flowing hair. In one hand he holds a goblet, in the other a bunch of grapes and a short dagger.

The Muses were goddesses who presided over music and poetry, and all the liberal arts and sciences. They were nine in number.

The Graces were three in number, and personified Splendor, Joy and Pleasure. They were three beautiful sisters, standing with their arms entwined.

The Fates were also three goddesses, who presided over the destiny of mortals. The first was the staff of life, the second spun the cord, and the third cut it off.

This is a brief outline of the origin and nature of the gods and goddesses: and the legends are numerous, and some of them are of exceeding interest and beauty, while others shock and disgust us by the gross impossibilities and hideous deformities which they [489]reveal. We have concluded to give a direct translation of them from the Greek, so that the reader may have them in the pure original form, and thereby have not only the beauty and interest retained, but at the same time an idea of the style of the ancient writings; only a few stories have been modified to bring them nearer to the level of the rest. We will, however, be obliged to use the Greek names instead of the Latin in this translation, as it is from the Greek, and will therefore give the names translated below:

The most of the Greek people appear to have believed that their divinities were real persons, but their philosophers explained the legends concerning them as allegorical representations of general physical and moral truths. The Greeks, therefore, instead of favoring nature, worshiped the powers of nature personified.

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THE DELPHIAN APOLLO.

From land to land the lady Leto wandered in fear and sorrow, for no city or country would give her a home where she might abide in peace. From Crete to Athens, from Athens to Ægina, from Ægina to the heights of Pelion and Athos, through all the islands of the wide Ægæan Sea, Skyros and Imbros and Lemnos, and Chios the fairest of all, she passed, seeking a home. [490]But in vain she prayed each land to receive her, until she came to the Island of Delos, and promised to raise it to great glory if only there she might rest in peace. And she lifted up her voice and said, "Listen to me, O island of the dark sea. If thou wilt grant me a home, all nations shall come unto thee, and great wealth shall flow in upon thee; for here shall Phœbus Apollo, the lord of light and life, be born, and men shall come hither to know his will and win his favor." Then answered Delos, and said, "Lady, thou promisest great things; but they say that the power of Phœbus Apollo will be such as nothing on the wide earth may withstand; and mine is but a poor and stony soil, where there is little to please the eye of those who look upon me. Wherefore I fear that he will despise my hard and barren land, and go to some other country where he will build a more glorious temple, and grant richer gifts to the people who come to worship him." But Leto swore by the dark water of Styx, and the wide heaven above, and the broad earth around her, that in Delos should be the shrine of Phœbus, and that there should the rich offerings burn on his altar the whole year round.

So Leto rested in the Island of Delos, and there was Phœbus Apollo born. And there was joy among the undying gods who dwell in Olympos, and the earth laughed beneath the smile of heaven. Then was his temple built in Delos, and men came to it from all lands to learn his will and offer rich sacrifices on his altar.

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THE PYTHIAN APOLLO.

Long time Apollo abode in Delos; and every year all the children of Ion were gathered to the feast which was held before his temple. But at length it came to pass that Apollo went through many lands, journeying towards Pytho. With harp in [491]hand he drew nigh to the gates of Olympos, where Zeus and the gods dwell in their glory; and straightway all rejoiced for the sweetness of his harping. The Muses sang the undying gifts of the gods, and the griefs and woes of mortal men who can not flee from old age and death. The bright Horai joined hands together with Hebe and Harmonia; and Ares stood by the side of Aphrodite with Hermes the slayer of Argos, gazing on the face of Phœbus Apollo, which glistened as with the light of the new-risen sun. Then from Olympos he went down into the Pierian land, to Iolkos and the Lelantian plain; but it pleased him not there to build himself a home. Thence he wandered on to Mykalessos, and, traversing the grassy plains of Teumessos, came to the sacred Thebes; but neither would he dwell there, for no man had yet come hither, neither was there road nor path, but only wild forests in all the land.

Further and further he roamed, across the stream of Kephisos and beyond Okalea and Haliartos, until he came to Telphusa. There he thought to build himself a temple, for the land was rich and fair, so he said, "Beautiful Telphusa, here would I rest in thy happy vale, and here shall men come to ask my will and seek for aid in the hour of fear; and great glory shall come to thee while I abide in thy land." But Telphusa was moved with anger as she saw Phœbus marking out the place for his shrine and laying its foundations; and she spake craftily to him, and said, "Listen to me, Phœbus Apollo. Thou seekest here to have a home, but here thou canst never rest in peace; for my broad plain will tempt men to the strife of battle, and the tramp of war-horses shall vex the stillness of thy holy temple. Nay, even [492]in the time of peace, the lowing cattle shall come in crowds to my fountain, and the tumult will grieve thine heart. But go thou to Krisa, and make for thyself a home in the hidden clefts of Parnassos, and thither shall men hasten with their gifts from the utmost bounds of the earth." So Apollo believed her words, and he went on through the land of the Phlegyes until he came to Krisa. There he laid the foundations of his shrine in the deep cleft of Parnassos; and Trophonios and Agamedes, the children of Erginos, raised the wall. There also he found the mighty dragon who nursed Typhaon, the child of Here, and he smote him, and said, "Rot there upon the ground, and vex not more the children of men. The clays of thy life are ended, neither can Typhoeus himself aid thee now, nor Chimæra of the evil name. But the earth and the burning sun shall consume and scorch thy body." So the dragon died, and his body rotted on the ground; wherefore the name of the place is called Pytho, and they worship Phœbus Apollo as the great Pythian king.

But Phœbus knew now that Telphusa had deceived him, because she said nothing of the great dragon of Krisa, or of the roughness of the land. So he hastened back in his anger and said, "Thou hast beguiled me, Telphusa, with thy crafty words; but no more shall thy fountain send forth its sweet water, and the glory shall be mine alone." Then Apollo hurled great crags down and choked the stream near the beautiful fountain, and the glory departed from Telphusa.

Then he thought within himself what men he should choose to be his priests at Pytho; and far away, as he stood on the high hill, he saw a ship sailing on the wine-faced sea, and the men who were in it were Cretans, sailing from the land of King Minos to barter their goods with the men of Pylos. So Phœbus leaped into the sea, and changed his form to the form of a dolphin, and hastened to meet the ship. None knew whence the great fish came which smote the side of their vessel with its [493]mighty fins; but all marveled at the sight, as the dolphin guided the ship through the dark waters, and they sat trembling with fear, as they sped on without a sail by the force of the strong south wind. From the headland of Malea and the land of the Lakonians they passed to Helos and to Tænaron where Helios dwells, in whom the sons of men take delight, and where his cattle feed in the rich pastures. There the sailors would have ended their wanderings; but they sought in vain to land, for the ship would not obey its helm. Onward it went along the coast of the Island of Pelops, for the mighty dolphin guided it. So from Arene and Arguphea it came to the sandy Pylos, by Chalkis and Dyme to the land of the Epeians, to Pheræ and to Ithaka. There the men saw spread out before them the waters which wash the shores of Krisa; and the strong west wind came with its fierce breath, and drove them off to the east and towards the sunrising until they came to Krisa.

Then Phœbus Apollo came forth from the sea, like a star, and the brightness of his glory reached up to the high heaven. Into his shrine he hastened, and on the altar he kindled the undying fire, and his bright arrows were hurled abroad, till all Krisa was filled with the blaze of his lightnings, so that fear came upon all, and the cries of the women rose shrill on the sultry air. Then, swift as a thought of the heart, he hastened back to the ship; but his form was now the form of a man in his beauty, and his golden locks flowed over his broad shoulders. From the shore he called out to the men in the Cretan ship, and said "Who are ye, strangers? and do ye come as thieves and robbers, bringing terror and sorrow whithersoever ye may go? Why stay ye thus, tarrying in your ships, and seek not to come out on the land? Surely ye must know that all who sail on the wide sea rejoice when their ship comes to the shore, that they may come forth and feast with the people of the land?" So spake Phœbus Apollo; and the leader of the Cretans took courage and said, "Stranger, sure I am that [494]thou art no mortal man, but one of the bright heroes or the undying gods. Wherefore tell us now the name of this land and of the people who dwell in it. Hither we never sought to come, for we were sailing from the land of Minos to barter our wares at Pylos; but some one of the gods hath brought us hither against our will."

Then spake the mighty Apollo, and said to them, "O, strangers, who have dwelt in Knossos of the Cretan land, think not to return to your ancient home, to your wives or to your children. Here ye must guard and keep my shrine, and ye shall be honored of all the children of men. For I am the son of Zeus, and my name is Phœbus Apollo. It was I who brought you hither across the wide sea, not in guile or anger, but that in all time to come ye may have great power and glory, that ye may learn the counsel of the undying gods and make known their will to men. Hasten then to do my bidding; let down your sails, and bring your ship to the shore. Then bring out your goods, and build an altar on the beach, and kindle a fire, and offer white barley as an offering; and because I led you hither under the form of a dolphin, so worship me as the Delphian god. Then eat bread and drink wine, as much as your soul may lust after; and after that come with me to the holy place, where ye shall guard my temple."

So they obeyed the words of Phœbus; and when they had offered the white barley, and feasted richly on the sea-shore, they arose to go, and Apollo led them on their way. His harp was in his hand, and he made sweet music, such as no mortal ear had heard before; and they raised the chant Io Pæan, for a new power was breathed into their hearts, as they went along. They thought not now of toil or sorrow; but with feet unwearied they went up the hill until they reached the clefts of Parnassos, where Phœbus would have them dwell.

Then out spake the leader of the Cretans, and said, boldly, [495]"O king, thou hast brought us far away from our homes to a strange land; whence are we to get food here? No harvest will grow on these bare rocks, no meadows are spread out before our eyes. The whole land is bare and desolate." But the son of Zeus smiled and said, "O foolish men, and easy to be cast down, if ye had your wish ye would gain nothing but care and toil. But listen to me and ponder well my words. Stretch forth your hands and slay each day the rich offerings, for they shall come to you without stint and sparing, seeing that the sons of men shall hasten hither from all lands, to learn my will and ask for aid in the hour of fear. Only guard ye my temple well, and keep your hands clean and your hearts pure; for if ye deal rightly no man shall take away your glory; but if ye speak lies and do iniquity, if ye hurt the people who come to my altar, and make them to go astray, then shall other men rise up in your place, and ye yourselves shall be thrust out forever, because ye would not obey my words."

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[496]NIOBE AND LETO.

In the little Island of Delos there lived a long time ago a lady who was called Niobe. She had many sons and many daughters, and she was very proud of them, for she thought that in all the Island of Delos, and even in all the world, there were no children so beautiful as her own. And as they walked, and leaped, and ran among the hills and valleys of that rocky island, all the people looked at them, and said, "Surely there are no other children like the children of the lady Niobe." And Niobe was so pleased at hearing this, that she began to boast to every one how strong and beautiful her sons and daughters were.

Now in this Island of Delos there lived also the lady named Leto. She had only two children, and their names were Artemis and Phœbus Apollo; but they were very strong and fair, indeed. And whenever the lady Niobe saw them, she tried to think that her own children were still more beautiful, although she could hardly help feeling that she had never seen any so glorious as Artemis and Apollo. So one day the lady Leto and the lady Niobe were together, and their children were playing before them; and Phœbus Apollo played on his golden harp, and then he shot from his golden bow the arrows which never missed their mark. But Niobe never thought of Apollo's bow, and the arrows which he had in his quiver; and she began to boast to the lady Leto of the beauty of her children, and said, "See, Leto; look at my seven sons and my seven daughters, and see how strong and fair they are. Apollo and Artemis are beautiful, I know, but my children are fairer still; and you have only two children while I have seven sons and seven daughters." So Niobe went on boasting, and never thought whether she should make Leto angry. But Leto said nothing until Niobe and her children were gone, and then she called Apollo, and said to him, "I do not [497]love the lady Niobe. She is always boasting that her sons and daughters are more beautiful than you and your sister; and I wish you to show her that no one else is so strong as my children, or so beautiful." Then Phœbus Apollo was angry, and a dark frown came upon his fair young face, and his eyes were like the flaming fire. But he said nothing, and he took his golden bow in his hand, and put his quiver with his terrible arrows across his shoulder, and went away to the hills where he knew that the lady Niobe and her children were. And when he saw them he went and stood on a bare high rock, and stretched the string of his golden bow, and took an arrow from his quiver. Then he held out the bow, and drew the string to his breast, until the point of the arrow touched the bow; and then he let the arrow fly. Straight to its mark it went, and one of the lady Niobe's sons fell dead. Then another arrow flew swiftly from the bow, and another, and another, and another, till all the sons and all the daughters of Niobe lay dead on the hillside. Then Apollo called out to Niobe, and said, "Go and boast now of your beautiful children!"

It had all passed so quickly that Niobe scarcely knew whether it was not a dream. She could not believe that her children were really gone—all her sons and all her daughters, whom she had just now seen so happy and strong around her. But there they lay, still and cold, upon the ground. Their eyes were closed as if they were asleep, and their faces had still a happy smile, which made them look more beautiful than ever. And Niobe went to them all one by one, and touched their cold hands, and kissed their pale cheeks; and then she knew that the arrows of Phœbus Apollo had killed them. Then she sat down on a stone which was close to them, and the tears flowed from her eyes, and they streamed down her face, as she sat there as still as her children who lay dead before her. She never raised her head to look at the blue sky—she never moved hand or foot, [498]but she sat weeping on the cold rock until she became as cold as the rock itself. And still her tears flowed on, and still her body grew colder and colder, until her heart beat no more, and the lady Niobe was dead. But there she still seemed to sit and weep, for her great grief had turned her into a stone; and all the people, whenever they came near that place, said, "See, there sits the lady Niobe, who was turned into stone, when Phœbus Apollo killed all her children because she boasted that no one was so beautiful as they were." And long after, when the stone was grown old and covered with moss, the people still thought they could see the form of the lady Niobe; for the stone, which did not look much like the form of a woman when they came near to it, seemed at a distance just as though Niobe still sat there, weeping for her beautiful children whom Phœbus Apollo slew.

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DAPHNE.

In the vale of Tempe, where the stream of Peneios flows beneath the heights of Olympos towards the sea, the beautiful Daphne passed the days of her happy childhood. Fresh as the earliest morning, she climbed the crags to greet the first rays of the rising sun; and when he had driven his fiery horses over the sky, she watched his chariot sink behind the western mountains. Over hill and dale she roamed, free and light as the breeze of spring. Other maidens round her spoke each of her love, but Daphne cared not to listen to the voice of man, though many a one sought her to be his wife.

One day as she stood on the slopes of Ossa in the glow of early morning, she saw before her a glorious form. The light of the new-risen sun fell on his face with a golden splendor, and she knew that it was Phœbus Apollo. Hastily he ran towards [499]her, and said, "I have found thee, Child of the Morning. Others thou hast cast aside, but from me thou canst not escape. I have sought thee long, and now will I make thee mine." But the heart of Daphne was bold and strong; and her cheek flushed and her eye sparkled with anger, as she said, "I know neither love nor bondage. I live free among the streams and hills; and to none will I yield my freedom." Then the face of Apollo grew dark with anger, and he drew near to seize the maiden; but swift as the wind she fled away. Over hill and dale, over crag and river, the feet of Daphne fell lightly as falling leaves in autumn; but nearer yet came Phœbus Apollo, till at last the strength of the maiden began to fail. Then she stretched out her hands, and cried for help to the lady Demeter; but she came not to her aid. Her head was dizzy, and her limbs trembled in utter feebleness as she drew near the broad river which gladdens the plains of Thessaly, till she almost felt the breath of Phœbus, and her robe was almost in his grasp. Then, with a wild cry, she said, "Father Peneios, receive thy child," and she rushed into the stream, whose waters closed gently over her.

She was gone; Apollo mourned for his madness in chasing thus the free maiden. And he said, "I have punished myself by my folly; the light of the morning is taken out of the day. I must go on alone till my journey shall draw towards its end." Then he spake the word, and a laurel came up on the bank where Daphne had plunged into the stream; and the green bush with its thick clustering leaves keeps her name forever.

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KYRENE.

Among the valleys and hills of Thessaly, Kyrene, the fair-armed daughter of Hypseus, wandered free as the deer upon the mountain side. Of all the maidens of the land, there was [500]none to vie her in beauty; neither was there any that could be matched with her for strength of arm and speed of foot. She touched not the loom or the spindle; she cared not for banquets with those who revel under houses. Her feasts were spread on the green grass, beneath the branching tree; and with her spear and dagger she went fearless among the beasts of the field, or sought them out in their dens.

One day she was roaming along the winding banks of Peneios, when a lion sprang from a thicket across her path. Neither spear nor dagger was in her hand, but the heart of Kyrene knew no fear, and she grappled with him until the beast sank wearied at her feet. She had conquered, but not unseen, for Phœbus Apollo had watched the maiden as she battled with the angry lion; and straightway he called the wise centaur Cheiron, who had taught him in the days of his youth. "Come forth," he said, "from thy dark cave, and teach me once again, for I have a question to ask thee. Look at yonder maiden, and the beast which lies beaten at her feet; and tell me (for thou art wise) whence she comes, and what name she bears. Who is she, that thus she wanders in these lonely valleys without fear and without hurt? Tell me if she may be wooed and won." Then Cheiron looked steadfastly at the face of Phœbus, and a smile passed over his countenance as he answered, "There are hidden keys to unlock the prison-house of love; but why askest thou me of the maiden's name and race—thou who knowest the end of all things, and all the paths along which the sons of men are journeying? Thou hast counted the leaves which burst forth in the spring-time, and the grains of sand which the wind tosses on the river bank, or by the sea shore. But if I must needs match thee in suitable wisdom, then listen to my words. The maiden is wooed and won already; and thou art going to bear her as thy bride over the dark sea, and place her in golden halls on the far-off Libyan land. There she shall have a home rich in [501]every fruit that may grow up from the earth; and there shall thy son Aristaios be born, on whose lips the bright Horai shall shed nectar and ambrosia, so that he may not come under the doom of mortal men."

Then Phœbus Apollo smiled as he answered, "Of a truth, Cheiron, thou deservest thy fame, for there are none to match with thee for wisdom; and now I go with Kyrene to the land which shall be called by her name, and where, in time to come, her children shall build great and mighty cities, and their name shall be spread abroad throughout all the earth for strength and wisdom."

So the maiden Kyrene came to the Libyan land, and there Aristaios, her child, was born. And Hermes carried the babe to the bright Horai, who granted him an endless life; and he dwelt in the broad Libyan plains, tending his flocks, and bringing forth rich harvests from the earth. For him the bees wrought their sweetest honey; for him the sheep gave their softest wool; for him the cornfields waved with their fullest grain. No blight touched the grapes which his hand had tended; no sickness vexed the herds which fed in his pastures. And they who dwelt in the land said, "Strife and war bring no such gifts as these to the sons of men; therefore let us live in peace."

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HERMES.

Early in the morning, long ago, in a cave of the great Kyllenian hill, lay the new-born Hermes, the son of Zeus and Maia. The cradle-clothes were scarcely stirred by his soft breathing, while he slept as peacefully as the children of mortal mothers. But the sun had not driven his fiery chariot half over the heaven, when the babe arose from his sacred cradle and [502]stepped forth from the dark cavern. Before the threshold a tortoise fed lazily on the grass; and when the child saw it he laughed merrily. "Ah! this is luck, indeed," he said; "whence hast thou come, pretty creature, with thy bright speckled shell? Thou art mine now, and I must take thee into my cave. It is better to be under shelter than out of doors; and though there may be some use in thee while thou livest, it will comfort thee to think that thou wilt sing sweetly when thou art dead." So the child Hermes took up his treasure in both arms, and carried it into the cavern. There he took an iron probe, and pierced out the life of the tortoise; and quick as thought, he drilled holes in its shell, and fixed in them reed-canes. Then across the shell he fastened a piece of ox-hide, and with seven sheep-gut cords he finished the making of his lyre. Presently he struck it with the bow, and a wave of sweet music swelled out upon the air. Like the merry songs of youths and maidens, as they sport in village feasts, rose the song of the child Hermes; and his eyes laughed slyly as he sang of the loves of Zeus and Maia, and how he himself was born of the mighty race of the gods. Still he sang on, telling of all that he saw around him in the home of the nymph, his mother, but all the while, as he sang, his mind was pondering on other things; and when the song was ended, he went forth from the cave, like a thief in the night, on his wily errand.

The sun was hastening down the slope of heaven, with his chariot and horses to the slow-rolling stream of Ocean, as Hermes came to the shadowy hills of Pieria, where the cattle of the gods fed in their large pastures. There he took fifty from the herd, and made ready to drive them to the Kyllenian hill. But before him lay vast plains of sand; and, therefore, lest the track of the cattle should tell the tale of his thieving, he drove the beasts round about by crooked paths, until it seemed as though they had gone to the place from whence he had stolen them. He had taken [503]good care that his own footsteps should not betray him, for with branches of tamarisk and myrtle, well twisted with their leaves, he hastily made sandals, and sped away from Pieria. One man alone saw him, a very old man, who was working in his vineyard on the sunny plain of Onchestos. To him Hermes went quickly, and said, "Old man, thou wilt have plenty of wine when these roots come all into bearing trim. Meanwhile keep a wise head on thy crumpled shoulders, and take heed not to remember more than may be convenient."

Onwards, over dark hills, and through sounding dells, and across flowery plains, hastened the child Hermes, driving his flock before him. The night waxed and waned, and the moon had climbed to her watchtower in the heaven, when, in the flush of early morning, Hermes reached the banks of the great Alpheian stream. Then he turned his herd to feed on the grassy plain, while he gathered logs of wood, and, rubbing two sticks together, kindled the first flame that burned upon the earth where dwell the sons of men. The smoke went up to the heaven, and the flame crackled fiercely beneath it, as Hermes brought forth two of the herd, and, tumbling them on their back, pierced out the life of both. Their hides he placed on the hard rock; their flesh he cut up into twelve portions; and so Hermes hath the right of ordering all sacrifices which the children of men offer to the undying gods. But he ate not of the flesh or fat, although hunger sorely pressed him; and he burnt the bones in the fire, and tossed his tamarisk sandals into the swift stream of Alpheios. Then he quenched the fire, and with all his might trampled down the ashes, until the pale moon rose up again in the [504]sky. So he sped on his way to Kyllene. Neither god nor man saw him as he went, nor did the dogs bark. Early in the morning he reached his mother's cave, and darted through the keyhole of the door, softly as a summer breeze. Without a sound his little feet paced the stony floor, till he reached his cradle and lay down, playing like a babe among the clothes with his left hand, while the right held the tortoise-lyre hidden underneath them.

But, wily as he was, he could not cheat his mother. To his cradle she came, and said, "Whither hast thou wandered in the dark night? Crafty rogue, mischief will be thy ruin. The son of Leto will soon be here, and bear thee away bound in chains not easily shaken off. Out of my sight, little wretch, born to worry the blessed gods and plague the race of men!" "Mother," said Hermes, gently, "why talk thus to me, as though I were like mortal babes, a poor cowering thing, to cry for a little scolding? I know thy interest and mine: why should we stay here in this wretched cave, with never a gift nor a feast to cheer our hearts? I shall not stay. It is pleasanter to banquet with the gods than to dwell in a cavern in draughts of whistling wind. I shall try my luck against Apollo, for I mean to be his peer; and if he will not suffer me, and if Zeus, my father, take not up my cause, I will see what I can do for myself, by going to the shrine of Pytho and stealing thence the tripods and caldrons, the iron vessels and glittering robes. If I may not have honor in Olympos, I can at least be the prince of thieves."

Meanwhile, as they talked together, Eos rose up from the deep ocean stream, and her tender light flushed across the sky, while Apollo hastened to Onchestos and the holy grove of Poseidon. There the old man was at work in his vineyard, and to him Phœbus went quickly, and said, "Friend hedger, I am come from Pieria looking for my cows. Fifty of them have been driven away, and the bull has been left behind with the four dogs who guarded them. Tell me, old man, hast thou seen any one [505]with these cows, on the road?" But the old man said that it would be a hard matter to tell of all that he might chance to see. "Many travelers journey on this road, some with evil thoughts, some with good; I can not well remember all. This only I know, that yesterday, from the rising of the sun to its setting, I was digging in my vineyard, and I think, but I am not sure, that I saw a child with a herd of cattle. A babe he was, and he held a staff in his hand, and, as he went, he wandered strangely from the path on either side."

Then Phœbus stayed not to hear more, for now he knew of a surety that the new-born son of Zeus had done him the mischief. Wrapped in a purple mist, he hastened to beautiful Pylos, and came on the track of the cattle. "O Zeus!" he cried, "this is indeed a marvel. I see the footprints of cattle, but they are marked as though the cattle were going to the asphodel meadow, not away from it. Of man or woman, of wolf, bear, or lion, I spy not a single trace. Only here and there I behold the footprints of some strange monster, who has left his mark at random on either side of the road." So on he sped to the woody heights of Kyllene, and stood on the doorstep of Maia's cave. Straightway the child Hermes nestled under the cradle-clothes in fear, like a new-born babe asleep. But, seeing through all his craft, Phœbus looked steadily through all the cave and opened three secret places full of the food and drink of the gods, and full also of gold and silver and raiment; but not a cow was in any of them. At last he fixed his eyes sternly on the child, and said, "Wily babe, where are my cows? If thou wilt not tell me, there will be strife between us; and then I will hurl thee down to the gloomy Tartaros, to the land of darkness, whence neither thy father nor thy mother can bring thee back, and where thy kingdom shall be only over the ghosts of men." "Ah!" said Hermes, "these are dreadful words, indeed; but why dost thou chide me thus, or come here to look for cows? I have not [506]seen or heard of them, nor has any one told me of them. I can not tell where they are, or get the reward, if any were promised, for discovering them. This is no work of mine; what do I care for but for sleeping and sucking, and playing with my cradle-clothes, and being washed in warm water? My friend, it will be much better that no one should hear of such a silly quarrel. The undying gods would laugh at the very thought of a little babe leaving its cradle to run after cows. I was born but yesterday. My feet are soft, and the ground is hard. But if it be any comfort to thee, I will swear by my father's head (and that is a very great oath) that I have not done this deed, nor seen any one else steal your cows, and that I do not know what cows are."

As he spoke he looked stealthily from one side to the other, while his eyes winked slyly, and he made a long soft whistling sound, as if the words of Phœbus had amused him mightily. "Well, friend," said Apollo, with a smile, "thou wilt break into many a house, I see, and thy followers after thee; and thy fancy for beef will set many a herdsman grieving. But come down from the cradle, or this sleep will be thy last. Only this honor can I promise thee, to be called the prince of thieves forever." So without more ado Phœbus caught up the babe in his arms; but Hermes gave so mighty a sneeze that he quickly let him fall, and Phœbus said to him, gravely, "This is the sign that I shall find my cows; show me, then, the way." In great fear Hermes started up and pulled the cradle-clothes over his ears, as he said, "Cruel god, what dost thou seek to do with me? Why worry me thus about cows? I would there were not a cow in all the earth. I stole them not, nor have I seen any one steal the cows, whatever things cows may be. I know nothing but their name. But come; Zeus must decide the quarrel between us."

Thus each with his own purpose spake to the other, and their minds grew all the darker, for Phœbus sought only to know where his cows might be, while Hermes strove only to cheat [507]him. So they went quickly and sulkily on, the babe first, and Phœbus following after him, till they came to the heights of Olympos and the home of the mighty Zeus. There Zeus sat on the throne of judgment, and all the undying gods stood around him. Before them in the midst stood Phœbus and the child Hermes, and Zeus said, "Thou hast brought a fine booty after thy hunt to-day, Phœbus—a child of a day old. A fine matter is this to put before the gods."

"My father," said Apollo, quickly, "I have a tale to tell which will show that I am not the only plunderer. After a weary search I found this babe in the cave of Kyllene; and a thief he is such as I have never seen whether among gods or men. Yester eve he stole my cattle from the meadow, and drove them straight towards Pylos to the shore of the sounding sea. The tracks left were such that gods and men might well marvel at them. The footprints of the cows on the sand were as though they were going to my meadows, and not away from them; his own footmarks beggar all words, as if he had gone neither on his feet nor on his hands, and as if the oak tops had suddenly taken to walking. So was it on the sandy soil; and after this was passed, there remained no marks at all. But an old man saw him driving them on the road to Pylos. There he shut up the cattle at his leisure, and, going to his mother's cave, lay down in his cradle like a spark in a mass of cinders, which an eagle could scarcely spy out. When I taxed him with the theft he boldly denied it, and told me that he had not seen the cows or heard naught of them, and could not get the reward if one were offered for restoring them."

So the words of Phœbus were ended, and the child Hermes made obeisance to Zeus, the lord of all the gods, and said, "Father Zeus, I shall tell thee the truth, for I am a very truthful being, and I know not how to tell a lie. This morning, when the sun was but newly risen, Phœbus came to my mother's cave, [508]looking for cows. He brought no witnesses; but urged me by force to confess; he threatened to hurl me into the abyss of Tartaros. Yet he has all the strength of early manhood, while I, as he knows, was born but yesterday, and am not in the least like a cattle-reiver. Believe me (by thy love for me, thy child) that I have not brought these cows home, or passed beyond my mother's threshold. This is strict truth. Nay, by Helios and the other gods, I swear that I love thee and have respect for Phœbus. Thou knowest that I am guiltless, and, if thou wilt, I will also swear it. But, spite of all his strength, I will avenge myself some day on Phœbus for his unkindness; and then help thou the weaker."

So spake Hermes, winking his eyes and holding the clothes to his shoulders; and Zeus laughed aloud at the wiliness of the babe, and bade Phœbus and the child be friends. Then he bowed his head and charged Hermes to show the spot where he had hidden the cattle, and the child obeyed, for none may despise that sign and live. To Pylos they hastened and to the broad stream of Alpheios, and from the fold Hermes drove forth the cattle. But as he stood apart, Apollo beheld the hides flung on the rock, and he asked Hermes, "How wast thou able, cunning rogue, to flay two cows, thou a child but one day old? I fear thy might in time to come, and I can not let thee live." Again he seized the child, and bound him fast with willow bands; but the child tore them from his body like flax, so that Phœbus marveled greatly. In vain Hermes sought a place wherein to hide himself, and great fear came upon him till he thought of his tortoise-lyre. With his bow he touched the strings, and the wave of song swelled out upon the air more full and sweet than ever. He sang of the undying gods and the dark earth, how it was made at the first, and how to each of the gods his own appointed portion was given, till the heart of Apollo was filled with a mighty longing, and he spake to Hermes, and said, "Cattle-reiver, wily rogue, thy song [509]is worth fifty head of cattle. We will settle our strife by and by. Meanwhile, tell me, was this wondrous gift of song born with thee, or hast thou it as a gift from any god or mortal man? Never on Olympos, from those who can not die, have I heard such strains as these. They who hear thee may have what they will, be it mirth, or love, or sleep. Great is thy power, and great shall be thy renown, and by my cornel staff I swear that I will not stand in the way of thy honor or deceive thee in anywise."

Then said Hermes, "I grudge thee not my skill, son of Leto, for I seek but thy friendship. Yet thy gifts from Zeus are great. Thou knowest his mind, thou canst declare his will, and reveal what is stored up in time to come for undying gods or mortal men. This knowledge I fain would have. But my power of song shall this day be thine. Take my lyre, the soother of the wearied, the sweet companion in hours of sorrow or of feasting. To those who come skilled in its language, it can discourse sweetly of all things, and drive away all thoughts that annoy and cares that vex the soul. To those who touch it, not knowing how to draw forth its speech, it will babble strange nonsense, and rave with uncertain moanings. But thy knowledge is born with thee, and so my lyre is thine. Wherefore now let us feed the herds together, and with our care they shall thrive and multiply. There is no more cause for anger."

So saying the babe held out the lyre, and Phœbus Apollo took it. In his turn he gave to the child Hermes a glittering scourge, with charge over his flocks and herds. Then, touching the chords of the lyre, he filled the air with sweet music, and they both took their way to Olympos, and Zeus was glad at heart to see that the wrath of Apollo had passed away. But Phœbus dreaded yet the wiles of Hermes, and said, "I fear me much, child of Maia, that in time to come thou mayest steal both my harp and my bow, and take away my honor among men. Come now, and swear to me by the dark water of Styx [510]that thou wilt never do me wrong." Then Hermes bowed his head, and swore never to steal anything from Apollo, and never to lay hands on his holy shrine; and Phœbus swore that of all the undying gods there should be none so dear to him as Hermes. "And of this love," he said, "I will give thee a pledge. My golden rod shall guard thee, and teach thee all that Zeus may say to me for the well or ill-doing of gods or men. But the higher knowledge for which thou didst pray may not be thine; for that is hidden in the mind of Zeus, and I have sworn a great oath that none shall learn it from me. But the man who comes to me with true signs, I will never deceive; and he who puts trust in false omens and then comes to inquire at my shrine, shall be answered according to his folly, but his offering shall go into my treasure-house. Yet further, son of Maia, in the clefts of Parnassos far away dwell the winged Thriai, who taught me long ago the secret things of times to come. Go thou, then, to the three sisters, and thus shalt thou test them. If they have eaten of the honeycomb before they speak, they will answer thee truly; but if they lack the sweet food of the gods, they will seek to lead astray those who come to them. These I give thee for thy counselors; only follow them warily; and have thou dominion over all flocks and herds, and over all living things that feed on the wide earth; and be thou the guide to lead the souls of mortal men to the dark kingdom of Hades."

So was the love of Apollo for Hermes made sure; and Hermes hath his place amongst all the deathless gods and dying men. Nevertheless, the sons of men have from him no great gain, for all night long he vexes them with his treacherous wiles.

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THE SORROW OF DEMETER.

In the fields of Enna, in the happy Island of Sicily, the beautiful Persephone was playing with the girls who lived there with [511]her. She was the daughter of the lady Demeter, and every one loved them both, for Demeter was good and kind to all, and no one could be more gentle and merry than Persephone. She and her companions were gathering flowers from the field, to make crowns for their long flowing hair. They had picked many roses and lilies and hyacinths, which grew in clusters around them, when Persephone thought she saw a splendid flower far off; and away she ran, as fast as she could, to get it. It was a beautiful narcissus, with a hundred heads springing from one stem; and the perfume which came from its flowers gladdened the broad heaven above, and the earth and sea around it. Eagerly Persephone stretched out her hand to take this splendid prize, when the earth opened, and a chariot stood before her, drawn by four coal-black horses; and in the chariot there was a man with a dark and solemn face, which looked as though he could never smile, and as though he had never been happy. In a moment he got out of his chariot, seized Persephone round the waist, and put her on the seat by his side. Then he touched the horses with his whip, and they drew the chariot down into the great gulf, and the earth closed over them again.

Presently the girls who had been playing with Persephone came up to the place where the beautiful narcissus was growing; but they could not see her anywhere. And they said, "Here is the very flower which she ran to pick, and there is no place here where she can be hiding." Still for a long time they searched through the fields of Enna; and when the evening was come they went home to tell the lady Demeter that they could not tell what had become of Persephone.

Very terrible was the sorrow of Demeter when she was told that her child was lost. She put a dark robe on her shoulders, and took a flaming torch in her hand, and went over land and sea to look for Persephone. But no one could tell her where she was gone. When ten days were passed she met [512]Hekate, and asked her about her child; but Hekate said, "I heard her voice, as she cried out when some one seized her; but I did not see it with my eyes, and so I know not where she is gone." Then she went to Helios, and said to him, "O Helios, tell me about my child. Thou seest everything on the earth, sitting in the bright sun." Then Helios said to Demeter, "I pity thee for thy great sorrow, and I will tell thee the truth. It [513]is Hades who has taken away Persephone to be his wife in the dark and gloomy land which lies beneath the earth."

Then the rage of Demeter was more terrible than her sorrow had been; and she would not stay in the palace of Zeus, on the great Thessalian hill, because it was Zeus who had allowed Hades to take away Persephone. So she went down from Olympos, and wandered on a long way until she came to Eleusis, just as the sun was going down into his golden cup behind the dark blue hills. There Demeter sat down close to a fountain, where the water bubbled out from the green turf and fell into a clear basin, over which some dark olive trees spread their branches. Just then the daughters of Keleos, the king of Eleusis, came to the fountain with pitchers on their heads to draw water; and when they saw Demeter, they knew from her face that she must have some great grief; and they spoke kindly to her, and asked if they could do anything to help her. Then she told them how she had lost and was searching for her child; and they said, "Come home and live with us; and our father and mother will give you everything that you can want, and do all that they can to soothe your sorrow." So Demeter went down to the house of Keleos, and she stayed there for a whole year. And all this time, although the daughters of Keleos were very gentle and kind to her, she went on mourning and weeping for Persephone. She never laughed or smiled, and scarcely ever did she speak to any one, because of her great grief. And even the earth, and the things which grow on the earth, mourned for the sorrow which had come upon Demeter. There was no fruit upon the trees, no corn came up in the fields, and no flowers blossomed in the gardens. And Zeus looked down from his high Thessalian hill, and saw that everything must die unless he could soothe the grief and anger of Demeter. So he sent Hermes down to Hades, the dark and stern king, to bid him send Persephone to see her mother, Demeter. But before Hades [514]let her go he gave her a pomegranate to eat, because he did not wish her to stay away from him always, and he knew that she must come back if she tasted but one of his pomegranate seeds. Then the great chariot was brought before the door of the palace, and Hermes touched with his whip the coal-black horses, and away they went as swiftly as the wind, until they came close to Eleusis. Then Hermes left Persephone, and the coal-black horses drew the chariot away again to the dark home of King Hades.

The sun was sinking down in the sky when Hermes left Persephone, and as she came near to the fountain she saw some one sitting near it in a long black robe, and she knew that it must be her mother who still wept and mourned for her child. And as Demeter heard the rustling of her dress, she lifted up her face, and Persephone stood before her.

Then the joy of Demeter was greater, as she clasped her daughter to her breast, than her grief and her sorrow had been. Again and again she held Persephone in her arms, and asked her about all that had happened to her. And she said, "Now that you are come back to me, I shall never let you go away again; Hades shall not have my child to live with him in his dreary kingdom," But Persephone said, "It may not be so, my mother; I can not stay with you always; for before Hermes brought me away to see you, Hades gave me a pomegranate, and I have eaten some of the seeds; and after tasting the seed I must go back to him again when six months have passed by. And, indeed, I am not afraid to go, for although Hades never smiles or laughs, and everything in his palace is dark and gloomy, still he is very kind to me, and I think that he feels almost happy since I have been his wife. But do not be sorry, my mother, for he has promised to let me come up and stay with you for six months in every year, and the other six months I must spend with him in the land which lies beneath the earth."

[515]So Demeter was comforted for her daughter Persephone, and the earth and all the things that grew in it felt that her anger and sorrow had passed away. Once more the trees bore their fruits, the flowers spread out their sweet blossoms in the garden, and the golden corn waved like the sea under the soft summer breeze. So the six months passed happily away, and then Hermes came with his coal-black horses to take Persephone to the dark land. And she said to her mother, "Do not weep much; the gloomy king whose wife I am is so kind to me that I can not be really unhappy, and in six months more he will let me come to you again." But still, whenever the time came round for Persephone to go back to Hades, Demeter thought of the happy days when her child was a merry girl playing with her companions and gathering the bright flowers in the beautiful plains of Enna.

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THE SLEEP OF ENDYMION.

One beautiful evening, when the sun was sinking down in the West, Selene was wandering on the banks of the River Meander; and she thought that of all the places which she had ever seen there was none more lovely than the quiet valley through which that gentle river was flowing. On her right hand rose a hill, whose sides were covered with trees and flowers, where the vine clambered over the elm, and the purple grapes shone out from amongst the dark leaves. Then Selene asked some people who were passing by to tell her the name of the hill, and they told her that it was called the hill of Latmos. On she went, under the tall trees, whose branches waved over her in the clear evening light, till at last she reached the top, and looked down on the valley which lay beneath her. Then Selene was indeed astonished, for she had never seen anything so [516]beautiful before, even in a dream. She had fancied that nothing could be more lovely than the vale of the Meander, and now she saw something far more beautiful than the rocks and stones and clear bright water of that winding river. It was a small valley, at the bottom of which a lake shone like silver in the light of the setting sun. All around it beautiful trees covered the sloping banks; and their long branches drooped down over the water. Not a breath of wind was stirring the dark leaves—not a bird was flying in the air. Only the large green dragon-fly floated lazily on the lake, while the swan lay half asleep on the silvery waters. On one side, in the loveliest corner of the valley, there was a marble temple, whose pillars shone like the white snow; and, leading down to the lake, there were steps of marble, over which the palm trees spread their branches, and everywhere were clusters of all beautiful flowers, amongst which mosses, and ferns, and the green ivy were tangled. There was the white narcissus and the purple tulip—the dark hyacinth and the soft red rose. But more beautiful than all the trees and flowers, a man lay sleeping on the marble steps of the temple. It was Endymion, who lived in this quiet valley, where the storms never came, and where the dark rain-clouds never covered the sides of the mountain. There he lay in the still evening hour; and at first Selene thought that it could scarcely be a living man whom she saw, for [517]he lay as still as if he were made of marble himself. And as she looked upon him, Selene drew in her breath for wonder; and she went gently down the valley till she came to the steps where Endymion lay asleep. Presently the sun sank behind the hill, and the rich glow of the evening made the silvery lake gleam like gold; and Endymion awoke and saw Selene standing near him. Then Selene said, "I am wandering over the earth; and I may not stay here. Come away, and I will show you larger lakes and more glorious valleys than these." But Endymion said, "Lady, I can not go. There may be lakes which are larger, and valleys more splendid than this, but I love this still and quiet place, where the storms never come, and the sky is never black with clouds. You must not ask me to leave the cool shade of these sleeping trees, and the myrtles and roses which twine under the tall elms, and these waters, where the swans rest in the hot hours of the day and the dragon-fly spreads his green and golden wings to the sun."

Many times did Selene ask him, but Endymion would not leave his pleasant home; and at last she said, "I can stay no more, but if you will not come with me, then you shall sleep on these marble steps and never wake up again." So Selene left him, and presently a deep sleep came over Endymion, and his hands dropped down by his side, and he lay without moving on the steps of the temple, while the evening breeze began to stir gently the broad leaves of the palm trees, and the lilies which bowed their heads over the calm water. There he lay all through the still and happy night; and there he lay when the sun rose up from the sea, and mounted up with its fiery horses into the sky. There was a charm now on this beautiful valley, which made the breeze more gentle and the lake more still than ever. The green dragon-flies came floating lazily in the air near Endymion, but he never opened his eyes; and the swans looked up from the lake, to see if he was coming to feed them; but he [518]stirred not in his deep and dreamless sleep. There he lay day and night, for weeks, and months, and years; and many times, when the sun went down into the sea, Selene came and stood on the Latmian hill, and watched Endymion as he lay asleep on the marble steps beneath the drooping palm trees; and she said, "I have punished him because he would not leave his home; and Endymion sleeps forever in the land of Latmos."

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PHAETHON.

In the golden house which Hephaistos had wrought for him with his wondrous skill, Helios saw nothing fairer than his son Phaethon; and he said to his mother, Klymene, that no mortal child might be matched with him for beauty. And Phaethon heard the words, and his heart was filled with an evil pride. So he stood before the throne of Helios, and said, "O father, who dwellest in the dazzling light, they say that I am thy child; but how shall I know it while I live in thy house without name and glory? Give me a token, that men may know me to be thy son." Then Helios bade him speak, and swear to grant his prayer; and Phaethon said, "I will guide thy chariot for one day through the high heaven; bid the Horai make ready the horses for me, when Eos spreads her quivering light in the sky." But the heart of Helios was filled with fear, and he besought his son with many tears to call back his words. "O Phaethon, bright child of Klymene, for all thy beauty thou art mortal still; and the horses of Helios obey no earthly master." But Phaethon harkened not to his words, and hastened away to the dwelling of the Horai, who guard the fiery horses. "Make ready for me," he said, "the chariot of Helios, for this day I go through the high heaven in the stead of my father."

The fair-haired Eos spread her faint light in the pale sky, [519]and Lampetie was driving the cattle of Helios to their bright pastures, when the Horai brought forth his horses and harnessed them to the fiery chariot. With eager hand Phaethon seized the reins, and the horses sped upon their way up the heights of the blue heaven, until the heart of Phaethon was full of fear and the reins quivered in his grasp. Wildly and more madly sped the steeds, till at last they hurried from the track which led to the Hesperian land. Down from their path they plunged, and drew near to the broad plains of earth. Fiercer and fiercer flashed the scorching flames; the trees bowed down their withered heads; the green grass shriveled on the hillsides; the rivers vanished from their slimy beds, and the black vapors rose with smoke and fire from the hidden depths of the mighty hills. Then in every land the sons of men lay dying on the scorched and gaping ground. They looked up to the yellow sky, but the clouds came not; they sought the rivers and fountains, but no water glistened on their seething beds; and young and old, all lay down in madness of heart to sleep the sleep of death.

So sped the horses of Helios on their fiery wanderings, and Zeus looked down from his Thessalian hill and saw that all living things on the earth must die unless Phaethon should be smitten down from his father's chariot. Then the mighty thunders woke in the hot sky which mourned for the clouds that were dead; and the streams of lightning rushed forth upon Phaethon, and bore him from the blazing heaven far down beneath the waters of the green sea.

But his sisters wept sore for the death of the bright Phaethon, and the daughters of Hesperos built his tomb on the sea-shore, that all men might remember the name of the son of Helios and say, "Phaethon fell from his father's chariot, but he lost not his glory, for his heart was set upon great things."

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[520]BRIAREOS.

There was strife in the halls of Olympos, for Zeus had conquered the ancient gods, and sat on the throne of his father Kronos. In his hand he held the thunderbolts; the lightning slumbered at his feet, and around him all the gods trembled for the greatness of his power. For he laid hard tasks on all, and spoke hard words, and he thought to rule harshly over the gods who dwell on the earth and in the broad sea. All the day long Hermes toiled on weary errands to do his will; for Zeus sought to crush all alike, and remembered not the time when he, too, was weak and powerless.

Then were there secret whisperings, as the gods of earth and sea took counsel together; and Poseidon, the lord of the dark waters, spoke in fierce anger, and said, "Hearken to me, Here and Athene, and let us rise up against Zeus, and teach him that he has not power over all. See how he bears himself in his new majesty—how he thinks not of the aid which we gave him in the war with his father Kronos—how he has smitten down even the mightiest of his friends. For Prometheus, who gave fire to mortal men and saved them from biting cold and gnawing [521]hunger, lies chained on the crags of Caucasus; and if he shrink not to bind the Titan, see that he smite not thee also in his wrath, O lady Here." And Athene said, "The wisdom of Zeus is departed from him, and all his deeds are done now in craft and falsehood; let us bind him fast, lest all the heaven and earth be filled with strife and war." So they vowed a vow that they would no more bear the tyranny of Zeus; and Hephaistos forged strong chains at their bidding to cast around him when sleep lay heavy on his eyelids.

But Thetis heard the words of Poseidon and Athene, as she sat beneath the waters in her coral cave, and she rose up like a white mist from the sea, and knelt before the throne of Zeus. Then she clasped her arms round his knees, and said, "O Zeus, the gods tremble at thy might, but they love not thy hard words, and they say that thy wisdom hath departed from thee, and that thou doest all things in craft and falsehood. Hearken to me, O Zeus, for Hephaistos hath forged the chain and the lady Here, and Poseidon, the lord of the sea, and the pure Athene have vowed a vow to bind thee fast when sleep lies heavy on thine eyes. Let me therefore go, that I may bring Briareos to aid thee with his hundred hands, and when he sits by thy side, then shalt thou need no more to fear the wrath of Here and Poseidon. And when the peril is past, then, O Zeus, remember that thou must rule gently and justly, for that power shall not stand which fights with truth and love; and forget not those who aid thee, nor reward them as thou hast rewarded Prometheus on the crags of Caucasus, for it may be that, in time to come, I may ask a boon from thee for Achilleus, my child, who dwells now in the house of his father, Peleus; and when that hour shall come, then call to mind how in time past I saved thee from the chains of Hephaistos."

Then Zeus spoke gently, and said, "Hasten, Thetis, and bring hither the mighty Briareos, that he may guard me with his [522]hundred hands, and fear not for the words that thou hast spoken, for Zeus will not cast aside good counsel, and the gods shall hate me no more for hard and unkindly words."

So from the depths of the inmost earth Thetis summoned Briareos to the aid of Zeus, and presently his giant form was seen in the hall of Olympos; and the gods trembled as he sat down by the side of Zeus, exulting in the greatness of his strength. And Zeus spoke, and said, "Hearken to me, O lady Here, and Poseidon, and Athene. I know your counsels, and how ye purposed to bind me for my evil deeds; but fear not. Only do my bidding in time to come, and ye shall no more have cause to say that Zeus is a hard and cruel master."

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DIONYSOS.

In the dark land beneath the earth, where wander the ghosts of men, lay Semele, the daughter of Kadmos, while her child Dionysos grew up full of strength and beauty on the flowery plain of Orchomenos. But the wrath of the lady Here still burned alike against the mother and the child. No pity felt she for the helpless maiden whom the fiery lightning of Zeus had slain; and so in the prison-house of Hades Semele mourned for the love which she had lost, waiting till her child should lead her forth to the banquet of the gods. But for him the wiles of Here boded long toil and grievous peril. On the land and on the sea strange things befel him; but from all dangers his own strong arm and the love of Zeus, his father, rescued him. Thus throughout the land men spake of his beauty and his strength, and said that he was worthy to be the child of the maiden who had dared to look on the majesty of Zeus. At length the days of his youth were ended, and a great yearning filled his heart [523]to wander through the earth and behold the cities and the ways of men. So from Orchomenos Dionysos journeyed to the sea-shore, and he stood on a jutting rock to gaze on the tumbling waters. The glad music of the waves fell upon his ear and filled his soul with a wild joy. His dark locks streamed gloriously over his shoulders, and his purple robe rustled in the soft summer breeze. Before him on the blue waters the ships danced merrily in the sparkling sunlight, as they hastened from shore to shore on the errands of war and peace. Presently a ship drew near to the beach. Her white sail was lowered hastily to the deck, and five of her crew leaped out and plunged through the sea-foam to the shore, near the rock on which stood Dionysos. "Come with us," they said, with rough voices, as they seized him in their brawny arms; "it is not every day that Tyrrhenian mariners fall in with youths like thee." With rude jests they dragged him into the ship, and there made ready to bind him. "A brave youth and fair he is," they said; "we shall not lack bidders when we put forth our goods for sale." So round his limbs they fastened stout withy bands, but they fell from off him as withered leaves fall from off trees in autumn, and a careless smile played on his face as he sat down and looked calmly on the robbers who stood before him. Then on a sudden the voice of the helmsman was heard, as he shouted, "Fools, what do ye? The wrath of Zeus is hurrying you to your doom. This youth is not of mortal race; and who can tell which of the undying gods has put on this beautiful form? Send him straightway from the ship in peace, if ye fear not a deadly storm as we cross the open sea." Loud laughed the crew, as their chief answered, jeeringly, "Look out for the breeze, wise helmsman, and draw up the sail to the wind. That is more thy task than to busy thyself with our doings. Fear not for the boy. The withy bands were but weak; it is no great marvel that he shook them off. He shall go with us, and before we reach Egypt or Cyprus [524]or the land of the Hyperboreans, doubtless he will tell us his name and the name of his father and mother. Fear not, we have found a godsend."

So the sail was drawn up to the mast, and it swelled proudly before the breeze as the ship dashed through the crested waves. And still the sun shone brightly down on the water, and the soft white clouds floated lazily in the heavens, as the mighty Dionysos began to show signs and wonders before the robbers who had seized him. Over the deck ran a stream of purple wine, and a fragrance as of a heavenly banquet filled the air. Over mast and sailyard clambered the clustering vine, and dark masses of grapes hung from the branches. The ivy twined in tangled masses round the tackling, and bright garlands shone, like jeweled crowns, on every oar-pin. Then a great terror fell on all, as they cried to the old helmsman, "Quick, turn the ship to the shore; there is no hope for us here." But there followed a mightier wonder still. A loud roar broke upon the air, and a tawny lion stood before them, with a grim and grizzly bear by his side. Cowering like pitiful slaves, the Tyrrhenians crowded to the stern, and crouched round the good helmsman. Then the lion sprang and seized the chief, and the men leaped in their agony over the ship's side. But the power of Dionysos followed them still; and a change came over their bodies as they heard a voice, which said, "In the form of dolphins shall ye wander through the sea for many generations. No rest shall ye have by night or by day, while ye fly from the ravenous sharks that shall chase you through the seas."

But before the old helmsman again stood Dionysos, the young and fair, in all the glory of undying beauty. Again his dark locks flowed gently over his shoulders, and the purple robe rustled softly in the breeze. "Fear not," he said, "good friend and true, because thou hast aided one who is sprung from the deathless race of the gods. I am Dionysos, the child of [525]Zeus, the lord of the wine-cup and the revel. Thou hast stood by me in the hour of peril; wherefore my power shall shield thee from the violence of evil men and soothe thee in a green old age, till thine eyes close in the sleep of death and thou goest forth to dwell among brave heroes and good men in the asphodel meadows of Elysium."

Then at the bidding of Dionysos, the north wind came and wafted the ship to the land of Egypt, where Proteus was King. And so began the long wanderings of the son of Semele, through the regions of the Ethiopians and the Indians, towards the rising of the sun. Whithersoever he went, the women of the land gathered round him with wild cries and songs, and he showed them of his secret things, punishing grievously all who set at naught the laws which he ordained. So, at his word, Lykurgos, the Edonian chieftain, was slain by his people, and none dared any more to speak against Dionysos, until he came back to the city where Semele, his mother, had been smitten by the lightnings of Zeus.

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PENTHEUS.

For many years Dionysos wandered far away from the land of his birth; and wherever he went he taught the people of the country to worship him as a god, and showed them strange rites. Far away he roamed, to the regions where the Ganges rolls his mighty stream into the Indian Sea, and where the Nile brings every year rich gifts from the southern mountains. And in all the lands to which he came he made the women gather round him and honor him with wild cries and screams and marvelous customs such as they had never known before. As he went onwards the face of the land was changed. The women grouped themselves in companies far away from the sight of men, and, [526]high up on the barren hills or down in the narrow valleys, with wild movements and fierce shoutings, paid honor to Dionysos, the lord of the wine-cup and the feast. At length, through the Thracian highlands and the soft plains of Thessaly, Dionysos came back to Thebes, where he had been born amid the roar of the thunder and the blaze of the fiery lightning. Kadmos, the King, who had built the city, was now old and weak, and he had made Pentheus, the child of his daughter Agave, King in his stead. So Pentheus sought to rule the people well, as his father Kadmos had done, and to train them in the old laws, that they might be quiet in the days of peace, and orderly and brave in war.

Thus it came to pass that when Dionysos came near to Thebes, and commanded all the people to receive the new rites, which he sought to teach them, it grieved Pentheus at the heart; and when he saw how the women seemed smitten with madness, and that they wandered away in groups to desert places, where they lurked for many days and nights, far from the sight of men, he mourned for the evils which his kinsman, Dionysos, was bringing upon the land. So King Pentheus made a law that none should follow these new customs, and that the women should stay quietly doing their own work in their homes. But when they heard this, they were all full of fury, for Dionysos had deceived them by his treacherous words, and even Kadmos himself, in his weakness and old age, had been led astray by them. [527]In crowds they thronged around the house of Pentheus, raising loud shouts in honor of Dionysos, and besought him to follow the new way, but he would not hearken to them.

Thus it was for many days; and when all the city was shaken by the madness of the new worship, Pentheus thought that he would see with his own eyes the strange rites by which the women, in their lurking-places, did honor to Dionysos. So he went secretly to some hidden dells, whither he knew that the women had gone; but Dionysos saw him and laid his hands upon him, and straightway the mind of King Pentheus himself was darkened, and the madness of the worshipers was upon him, also. Then in his folly he climbed a tall pine-tree, to see what the women did in their revelry; but on a sudden one of them saw him, and they shrieked wildly and rooted up the tree in their fury. With one accord they seized Pentheus and tore him in pieces; and his own mother, Agave, was among the first to lay hands on her son. So Dionysos, the wine god, triumphed; and this was the way in which the new worship was set up in the Hellenic land.

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ASKLEPIOS.

On the shores of the Lake Boibeis, the golden-haired Apollo saw and loved Koronis, the beautiful daughter of Phlegyas. Many a time they wandered beneath the branching elms while the dew-drops glistened like jewels on the leaves, or sat beneath the ivy bowers as the light of evening faded from the sky and the blue veil of mist fell upon the sleeping hills. But at length the day came when Apollo must journey to the western land, and as he held Koronis in his arms, his voice fell softly and sadly on her ear. "I go," he said, "to a land that is very far off, but surely I will return. More precious to me than aught else on [528]the wide earth is thy love, Koronis. Let not its flower fade, but keep it fresh and pure as now, till I come to thee again. The dancing Horai trip quickly by, Koronis, and when they bring the day on which I may clasp thee in mine arms once more, it may be that I shall find thee watching proudly over the child of our love."

He was gone, and for Koronis it seemed as though the sun had ceased to shine in the heaven. For many a day she cared not to wander by the winding shore in the light of early morning, or to rest in the myrtle bowers as the flush of evening faded from the sky. Her thoughts went back to the days that were passed, when Apollo, the golden-haired, made her glad with the music of his voice. But at length a stranger came to the Boibean land, and dwelt in the house of Phlegyas, and the spell of his glorious beauty fell upon Koronis, and dimmed the love which she had borne for Apollo, who was far away. Again for her the sun shone brightly in the heaven, and the birds filled the air with a joyous music, but the tale went swiftly through the land, and Apollo heard the evil tidings as he journeyed back with his sister, Artemis, to the house of Phlegyas. A look of sorrow that may not be told passed over his fair face; but Artemis stretched forth her hand towards the flashing sun and swore that the maiden should rue her fickleness. Soon, on the shore of the Lake Boibeis, Koronis lay smitten by the spear which may never miss its mark, and her child, Asklepios, lay a helpless babe by her side. Then the voice of Apollo was heard saying, "Slay not the child with the mother, he is born to do great things, but bear him to the wise centaur, Cheiron, and bid him train the boy in all his wisdom, and teach him to do brave deeds, that men may praise his name in the generations that shall be hereafter."

So in the deep glens of Pelion the child, Asklepios, grew up to manhood under the teaching of Cheiron, the wise and good. In all the land there was none that might vie with him in strength [529]of body; but the people marveled yet more at his wisdom, which passed the wisdom of the sons of men, for he had learned the power of every herb and leaf to stay the pangs of sickness and bring back health to the wasted form. Day by day the fame of his doings was spread abroad more widely through the land, so that all who were sick hastened to Asklepios and besought his help. But soon there went forth a rumor that the strength of death had been conquered by him, and that Athene, the mighty daughter of Zeus, had taught Asklepios how to bring back the dead from the dark kingdom of Hades. Then, as the number of those whom he brought from the gloomy Stygian land increased more and more, Hades went in hot anger to Olympos, and spoke bitter words against the son of Koronis, so that the heart of Zeus was stirred with a great fear lest the children of men should be delivered from death and defy the power of the gods. Then Zeus bowed his head, and the lightnings flashed from heaven, and Asklepios was smitten down by the scathing thunderbolt.

Mighty and terrible was the grief that stirred the soul of the golden-haired Apollo when his son was slain. The sun shone dimly from the heaven; the birds were silent in the darkened groves; the trees bowed down their heads in sorrow, and the hearts of all the sons of men fainted within them, because the healer of their pains and sickness lived no more upon the earth. But the wrath of Apollo was mightier than his grief, and he smote the giant Cyclopes, who shaped the fiery lightnings far down in the depths of the burning mountain. Then the anger of Zeus was kindled against his own child, the golden-haired Apollo, and he spake the word that he should be banished from the home of the gods to the dark Stygian land. But the lady Leto fell at his knees and besought him for her child, and the doom was given that a whole year long he should serve as a bondsman in the house of Admetos, who ruled in Pherai.

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[530]IXION.

Fair as the blushing clouds which float in early morning across the blue heaven, the beautiful Dia gladdened the hearts of all who dwelt in the house of her father Hesioneus. There was no guile in her soft clear eye, for the light of Eos was not more pure than the light of the maiden's countenance. There was no craft in her smile, for on her rested the love and the wisdom of Athene. Many a chieftain sought to win her for his bride; but her heart beat with love only for Ixion the beautiful and mighty, who came to the halls of Hesioneus with horses which can not grow old or die. The golden hair flashed a glory from his head dazzling as the rays which stream from Helios when he drives his chariot up the heights of heaven, and his flowing robe glistened as he moved like the vesture which the sun-god gave to the wise maiden Medeia, who dwelt in Kolchis.

Long time Ixion abode in the house of Hesioneus, for [531]Hesioneus was loth to part with his child. But at the last Ixion sware to give for her a ransom precious as the golden fruits which Helios wins from the teeming earth. So the word was spoken, and Dia the fair became the wife of the son of Amythaon, and the undying horses bare her away in his gleaming chariot. Many a day and month and year the fiery steeds of Helios sped on their burning path, and sank down hot and wearied in the western sea; but no gifts came from Ixion, and Hesioneus waited in vain for the wealth which had tempted him to barter away his child. Messenger after messenger went and came, and always the tidings were that Ixion had better things to do than to waste his wealth on the mean and greedy. "Tell him," he said, "that every day I journey across the wide earth, gladdening the hearts of the children of men, and that his child has now a more glorious home than that of the mighty gods who dwell on the high Olympos. What would he have more?" Then day by day Hesioneus held converse with himself, and his people heard the words which came sadly from his lips. "What would I more?" he said; "I would have the love of my child. I let her depart, when not the wealth of Phœbus himself could recompense me for her loss. I bartered her for gifts, and Ixion withholds the wealth which he sware to give. Yet were all the riches of his treasure-house lying now before me, one loving glance from the eyes of Dia would be more than worth them all."

But when his messengers went yet again to plead with Ixion, and their words were all spoken in vain, Hesioneus resolved to deal craftily, and he sent his servants by night and stole the undying horses which bare his gleaming chariot. Then the heart of Ixion was humbled within him, for he said, "My people look for me daily throughout the wide earth. If they see not my face their souls will faint with fear; they will not care to sow their fields, and the golden harvests of Demeter will wave [532]no more in the summer breeze." So there came messengers from Ixion, who said, "If thou wouldst have the wealth which thou seekest, come to the house of Ixion, and the gifts shall be thine, and thine eyes shall once more look upon thy child." In haste Hesioneus went forth from his home, like a dark and lonely cloud stealing across the broad heaven. All night long he sped upon his way, and, as the light of Eos flushed the eastern sky he saw afar off the form of a fair woman who beckoned to him with her long white arms. Then the heart of the old man revived, and he said, "It is Dia, my child. It is enough if I can but hear her voice and clasp her in mine arms and die." But his limbs trembled for joy, and he waited until presently his daughter came and stood beside him. On her face there rested a softer beauty than in former days, and the sound of her voice was more tender and loving, as she said, "My father, Zeus has made clear to me many dark things, for he has given me power to search out the secret treasures of the earth, and to learn from the wise beings who lurk in its hidden places the things that shall be hereafter. And now I see that thy life is well-nigh done, if thou seekest to look upon the treasures of Ixion, for no man may gaze upon them and live. Go back, then, to thy home if thou wouldst not die. I would that I might come with thee, but so it may not be. Each day I must welcome Ixion when his fiery horses come back from their long journey, and every morning I must harness them to his gleaming chariot before he speeds upon his way. Yet thou hast seen my face and thou knowest that I love thee now even as in the days of my childhood." But the old greed filled again the heart of Hesioneus, and he said, "The faith of Ixion is pledged. If he withhold still the treasures which he sware to give, he shall never more see the deathless horses. I will go myself into his treasure-house, and see whether in very truth he has the wealth of which he makes such proud boasting." Then Dia clasped her arms once again around her father, and [533]she kissed his face, and said, sadly, "Farewell, then, my father; I go to my home, for even the eyes of Dia may not gaze on the secret treasures of Ixion." So Dia left him, and when the old man turned to look on her departing form it faded from his sight as the clouds melt away before the sun at noon-day. Yet, once again he toiled on his way, until before his glorious home he saw Ixion, radiant as Phœbus Apollo in his beauty; but there was anger in his kindling eye, for he was wroth for the theft of his undying horses. Then the voice of Ixion smote the ear of Hesioneus, harsh as the flapping of the wings of Erinys when she wanders through the air. "So thou wilt see my secret treasures. Take heed that thy sight be strong." But Hesioneus spake in haste, and said, "Thy faith is pledged, not only to let me see them, but to bestow them on me as my own, for therefore didst thou win Dia my child to be thy wife." Then Ixion opened the door of his treasure-house and thrust in Hesioneus, and the everlasting fire devoured him.

But far above, in the pure heaven, Zeus beheld the deed of Ixion, and the tidings were sent abroad to all the gods of Olympos, and to all the sons of men, that Ixion had slain Hesioneus by craft and guile. A horror of great blackness fell on the heaven above and the earth beneath for the sin of which Zeus alone can purge away the guilt. Once more Dia made ready her husband's chariot, and once more he sped on his fiery journey; but all men turned away their faces, and the trees bowed their scorched and withered heads to the ground. The flowers drooped sick on their stalks and died, the corn was kindled like dried stubble on the earth, and Ixion said within himself, "My sin is great; men will not look upon my face as in the old time, and the gods of Olympos will not cleanse my hands from the guilt of my treacherous deed." So he went straightway and fell down humbly before the throne of Zeus, and said, "O thou that dwellest in the pure æther far above the dark cloud, my [534]hands are foul with blood, and thou alone canst cleanse them; therefore purge mine iniquity, lest all living things die throughout the wide earth."

Then the undying gods were summoned to the judgment seat of Zeus. By the side of the son of Kronos stood Hermes, ever bright and fair, the messenger who flies on his golden sandals more swiftly than a dream; but fairer and more glorious than all who stood near his throne was the lady Here, the queen of the blue heaven. On her brow rested the majesty of Zeus and the glory of a boundless love which sheds gladness on the teeming earth and the broad sea. And even as he stood before the judgment-seat, the eyes of Ixion rested with a strange yearning on her undying beauty, and he scarce heard the words which cleansed him from blood-guiltiness.

So Ixion tarried in the house of Zeus, far above in the pure æther, where only the light clouds weave a fairy net-work at the rising and setting of the sun. Day by day his glance rested more warm and loving on the countenance of the lady Here, and Zeus saw that her heart, too, was kindled by a strange love, so that a fierce wrath was stirred within him.

Presently he called Hermes, the messenger, and said, "Bring up from among the children of Nephele one who shall wear the semblance of the lady Here, and place her in the path of Ixion when he wanders forth on the morrow." So Hermes sped away on his errand, and on that day Ixion spake secretly with Here, and tempted her to fly from the house of Zeus. "Come with me," he said; "the winds of heaven can not vie in speed with my deathless horses, and the palace of Zeus is but as the house of the dead by the side of my glorious home." Then the heart of Ixion bounded with a mighty delight, as he heard the words of Here. "To-morrow I will meet thee in the land of the children of Nephele." So on the morrow when the light clouds had spread their fairy net-work over the heaven, Ixion stole away [535]from the house of Zeus to meet the lady Here. As he went, the fairy web faded from the sky, and it seemed to him that the lady Here stood before him in all her beauty. "Here, great queen of the unstained heaven," he said, "come with me, for I am worthy of thy love, and I quail not for all the majesty of Zeus." But even as he stretched forth his arms, the bright form vanished away. The crashing thunder rolled through the sky, and he heard the voice of Zeus saying, "I cleansed thee from thy guilt, I sheltered thee in my home, and thou hast dealt with me treacherously, as thou didst before with Hesioneus. Thou hast sought the love of Here, but the maiden which stood before thee was but a child of Nephele, whom Hermes brought hither to cheat thee with the semblance of the wife of Zeus. Wherefore hear thy doom. No more shall thy deathless horses speed with thy glistening chariot over the earth, but high in the heaven a blazing wheel shall bear thee through the rolling years, and the doom shall be on thee for ever and ever."

So was Ixion bound on the fiery wheel, and the sons of men see the flashing spokes day by day as it whirls in the high heaven.

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TANTALOS.

Beneath the mighty rocks of Sipylos stood the palace of Tantalos, the Phrygian King, gleaming with the blaze of gold and jewels. Its burnished roofs glistened from afar like the rays which dance on ruffled waters. Its marble columns flashed with hues rich as the hues of purple clouds which gather round the sun as he sinks down in the sky. And far and wide was known the name of the mighty chieftain, who was wiser than all the sons of mortal men; for his wife, Euryanassa, they said, came of the race of the undying gods, and to Tantalos Zeus had given the power of Helios, that he might know his secret counsels and [536]see into the hidden things of earth and air and sea. Many a time, so the people said, he held converse with Zeus himself in his home, on the high Olympos, and day by day his wealth increased, his flocks and herds multiplied exceedingly, and in his fields the golden corn waved like a sunlit sea.

But, as the years rolled round, there were dark sayings spread abroad, that the wisdom of Tantalos was turned to craft, and that his wealth and power were used for evil ends. Men said that he had sinned like Prometheus, the Titan, and had stolen from the banquet-hall of Zeus the food and drink of the gods, and given them to mortal men. And tales yet more strange were told, how that Panderos brought to him the hound which Rhea placed in the cave of Dikte to guard the child, Zeus, and how, when Hermes bade him yield up the dog, Tantalos laughed him to scorn, and said, "Dost thou ask me for the hound which guarded Zeus in the days of his childhood? It were as well to ask me for the unseen breeze which sounds through the groves of Sipylos."

Then, last of all, men spake in whispers of a sin yet more fearful, which Tantalos had sinned, and the tale was told that Zeus and all the gods came down from Olympos to feast in his banquet-hall, and how, when the red wine sparkled in the golden goblets, Tantalos placed savory meat before Zeus, and bade him eat of a costly food, and, when the feast was ended, told him that in the dish had lain the limbs of the child Pelops, whose sunny smile had gladdened the hearts of mortal men. Then came the day of vengeance, for Zeus bade Hermes bring back Pelops again from the kingdom of Hades to the land of living men, and on Tantalos was passed a doom which should torment him for ever and ever. In the shadowy region where wander the ghosts of men, Tantalos, they said, lay prisoned in a beautiful garden, gazing on bright flowers and glistening fruits and laughing waters, but for all that his tongue was parched, and his limbs [537]were faint with hunger. No drop of water might cool his lips, no luscious fruit might soothe his agony. If he bowed his head to drink, the water fled away; if he stretched forth his hand to pluck the golden apples, they would vanish like mists before the face of the rising sun, and in place of ripe fruits glistening among green leaves, a mighty rock beetled above his head, as though it must fall and grind him to powder. Wherefore men say, when the cup of pleasure is dashed from the lips of those who would drink of it, that on them has fallen the doom of the Phrygian Tantalos.

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[538]THE TOILS OF HERAKLES.

By the doom of his father Zeus, Herakles served in Argos the false and cruel Eurystheus. For so it was that Zeus spake of the birth of Herakles to Here, the Queen, and said, "This day shall a child be born of the race of Perseus, who shall be the mightiest of the sons of men." Even so he spake, because Ate had deceived him by her evil counsel. And Here asked whether this should be so in very deed, and Zeus bowed his head, and the word went forth which could not be recalled. Then Here went to the mighty Eileithyiai, and by their aid she brought it about that Eurystheus was born before Herakles the son of Zeus.

So the lot was fixed that all his life long Herakles should toil at the will of a weak and crafty master. Brave in heart and stout of body, so that no man might be matched with him for strength or beauty, yet was he to have no profit of all his labor till he should come to the land of the undying gods. But it grieved Zeus that the craft of Here, the Queen, had brought grievous wrong on his child, and he cast forth Ate from the halls of Olympos, that she might no more dwell among the gods. Then he spake the word that Herakles should dwell with the gods in Olympos, as soon as the days of his toil on earth should be ended.

Thus the child grew in the house of Amphitryon, full of beauty and might, so that men marveled at his great strength; for as he lay one day sleeping, there came two serpents into the chamber, and twisted their long coils round the cradle, and [539]peered upon him with their cold glassy eyes, till the sound of their hissing woke him from his slumber. But Herakles trembled not for fear, but he stretched forth his arms and placed his hands on the serpents' necks, and tightened his grasp more and more till they fell dead on the ground. Then all knew by this sign that Herakles must do great things and suffer many sorrows, but that in the end he should win the victory. So the child waxed great and strong, and none could be matched with him for strength of arm and swiftness of foot and in taming of horses and in wrestling. The best men in Argos were his teachers, and the wise centaur Cheiron was his friend, and taught him ever to help the weak and take their part against any who oppressed them. So, for all his great strength, none were more gentle than Herakles, none more full of pity for those who were bowed down by pain and labor.

But it was a sore grief to Herakles that all his life long he must toil for Eurystheus, while others were full of joy and pleasure and feasted at tables laden with good things. And so it came to pass that one day, as he thought of these things, he sat down by the wayside, where two paths met, in a lonely valley far away from the dwellings of men. Suddenly, as he lifted up his eyes, he saw two women coming towards him, each from a different road. They were both fair to look upon; but the one had a soft and gentle face, and she was clad in a seemly robe of pure white. The other looked boldly at Herakles, and her face was more ruddy, and her eyes shone with a hot and restless glare. From her shoulders streamed the long folds of her soft embroidered robe, which scantily hid the beauty of her form beneath. With a quick and eager step she hastened to Herakles, that she might be the first to speak. And she said, "I know, O man of much toil and sorrow, that thy heart is sad within thee, and that thou knowest not which way thou shalt turn. Come then with me, and I will lead thee on a soft and pleasant [540]road, where no storms shall vex thee and no sorrows shall trouble thee. Thou shalt never hear of wars and battles, and sickness and pain shall not come nigh to thee; but all day long shalt thou feast at rich banquets and listen to the songs of minstrels. Thou shalt not want for sparkling wine, and soft robes, and pleasant couches; thou shalt not lack the delights of love, for the bright eyes of maidens shall look gently upon thee, and their songs shall lull thee to sleep in the soft evening hour, when the stars come out in the sky." And Herakles said, "Thou promisest to me pleasant things, lady, and I am sorely pressed down by a hard master. What is thy name?" "My friends," said she, "call me the happy and joyous one; and they who look not upon me with love have given me an evil name, but they speak falsely."

Then the other spake, and said, "O Herakles, I, too, know whence thou art, and the doom which is laid upon thee, and how thou hast lived and toiled even from the days of thy childhood; and therefore I think that thou wilt give me thy love, and if thou dost, then men shall speak of thy good deeds in time to come, and my name shall be yet more exalted. But I have no fair words wherewith to cheat thee. Nothing good is ever reached without labor; nothing great is ever won without toil. If thou seek for fruit from the earth thou must tend and till it; if thou wouldst have the favor of the undying gods thou must come before them with prayers and offerings; if thou longest for the love of men thou must do them good." Then the other brake in upon her words, and said, "Thou seest, Herakles, that Arete seeks to lead thee on a long and weary path, but my broad and easy road leads thee quickly to happiness." Then Arete answered her (and her eye flashed with anger), "O wretched one, what good thing hast thou to give, and what pleasure canst thou feel, who knowest not what it is to toil? Thy lusts are pampered, thy taste is dull. Thou quaffest the rich wine before thou art thirsty, and fillest thyself with dainties before thou art [541]hungry. Though thou art numbered amongst the undying ones the gods have cast thee forth out of heaven, and good men scorn thee. The sweetest of all sounds, when a man's heart praises him, thou hast never heard; the sweetest of all sights, when a man looks on his good deeds, thou has never seen. They who bow down to thee are weak and feeble in youth, and wretched and loathsome in old age. But I dwell with the gods in heaven and with good men on earth; and without me nothing good and pure may be thought and done. More than all others am I honored by the gods, more than all others am I cherished by the men who love me. In peace and in war, in health and in sickness, I am the aid of all who seek me; and my help never fails. My children know the purest of all pleasures, when the hour of rest comes after the toil of day. In youth they are strong, and their limbs are quick with health; in old age they look back upon a happy life; and when they lie down to the sleep of death their name is cherished among men for their brave and good deeds. Love me, therefore, Herakles, and obey my words, and thou shalt dwell with me, when thy toil is ended, in the home of the undying gods."

Then Herakles bowed down his head and sware to follow her counsels; and when the two maidens passed away from his sight he went forth with a good courage to his labor and suffering. In many a land he sojourned and toiled to do the will of the false Eurystheus. Good deeds he did for the sons of men; but he had no profit of all his labor, save the love of the gentle Iole. Far away in Œchalia, where the sun rises from the eastern sea, he saw the maiden in the halls of Eurytos, and sought to win her love. But the word which Zeus spake to Here, the Queen, gave him no rest; and Eurystheus sent him forth to other lands, and he saw the maiden no more.

But Herakles toiled on with a good heart, and soon the glory of his great deeds were spread abroad throughout all the [542]earth. Minstrels sang how he slew the monsters and savage beasts who vexed the sons of men, how he smote the Hydra in the land of Lernai, and the wild boar, which haunted the groves of Erymanthos, and the Harpies, who lurked in the swamps of Stymphalos. They told how he wandered far away to the land of the setting sun, when Eurystheus bade him pluck the golden apples from the garden of the Hesperides—how, over hill and dale, across marsh and river, through thicket and forest, he came to the western sea, and crossed to the African land, where Atlas lifts up his white head to the high heaven—how he smote the dragon which guarded the brazen gates, and brought the apples to King Eurystheus. They sang of his weary journey, when he roamed through the land of the Ethiopians and came to the wild and desolate heights of Caucasus—how he saw a giant form high on the naked rock, and the vulture which gnawed the Titan's heart with its beak. They told how he slew the bird, and smote off the cruel chains, and set Prometheus free. They sang how Eurystheus laid on him a fruitless task, and sent him down to the dark land of King Hades to bring up the monster, Kerberos; how, upon the shore of the gloomy Acheron, he found the mighty hound who guards the home of Hades and Persephone; how he seized him in his strong right hand and bore him to King Eurystheus. They sang of the days when he toiled in the land of Queen Omphale, beneath the Libyan sun; how he destroyed the walls of Ilion when Laomedon was King, and how he went to Kalydon and wooed and won Deianeira, the daughter of the chieftain, Oineus.

Long time he abode in Kalydon, and the people of the land loved him for his kindly deeds. But one day his spear smote the boy, Eunomos, and his father was not angry, because he knew that Herakles sought not to slay him. Yet Herakles would go forth from the land, for his heart was grieved for the death of the child. So he journeyed to the banks of the Evenos, where [543]he smote the centaur, Nessos, because he sought to lay hands on Deianeira. Swiftly the poison from the barb of the spear ran through the centaur's veins; but Nessos knew how to avenge himself on Herakles, and with a faint voice he besought Deianeira to fill a shell with his blood, so that, if ever she lost the love of Herakles, she might win it again by spreading it on a robe for him to wear.

So Nessos died, and Herakles went to the land of Trachis, and there Deianeira abode while he journeyed to the eastern sea. Many times the moon waxed and waned in the heaven, and the corn sprang up from the ground and gave its golden harvest, but Herakles came not back. At last the tidings came how he had done great deeds in distant lands, how Eurytos, the King of Œchalia, was slain, and how, among the captives, was the daughter of the King, the fairest of all the maidens of the land.

Then the words of Nessos came back to Deianeira, and she hastened to anoint a broidered robe, for she thought only that the love of Herakles had passed away from her, and that she must win it to herself again. So with words of love and honor, she sent the gift for Herakles to put on, and the messenger found him on the Keneian shore, where he was offering rich sacrifice to Zeus, his father, and gave him the broidered robe in token of the love of Deianeira. Then Herakles wrapt it closely round him, and he stood by the altar while the dark smoke went up in a thick cloud to the heaven. Presently the vengeance of Nessos was accomplished. Through the veins of Herakles the poison spread like devouring fire. Fiercer and fiercer grew the burning pain, and Herakles vainly strove to tear the robe and cast it from him. It ate into the flesh, and as he struggled in his agony, the dark blood gushed from his body in streams. Then came the maiden Iole to his side. With her gentle hands she sought to soothe his pain, and with pitying words to cheer him in his woe. Then once more the face of Herakles flushed with [544]a deep joy, and his eye glanced with a pure light, as in the days of his might and strength, and he said, "Ah, Iole, brightest of maidens, thy voice shall cheer me as I sink down in the sleep of death. I loved thee in the bright morning time, when my hand was strong and my foot swift, but Zeus willed not that thou shouldst be with me in my long wanderings. Yet I grieve not now, for again thou hast come, fair as the soft clouds which gather round the dying sun." Then Herakles bade them bear him to the high crest of Oita and gather wood. So when all was ready, he lay down to rest, and they kindled the great pile. The black mists were spreading over the sky, but still Herakles sought to gaze on the fair face of Iole and to comfort her in her sorrow. "Weep not, Iole," he said, "my toil is done, and now is the time for rest. I shall see thee again in the bright land which is never trodden by the feet of night."

[545]Blacker and blacker grew the evening shades, and only the long line of light broke the darkness which gathered round the blazing pile. Then from the high heaven came down the thick cloud, and the din of its thunder crashed through the air. So Zeus carried his child home, and the halls of Olympos were opened to welcome the bright hero who rested from his mighty toil. There the fair maiden, Arete, placed a crown upon his head, and Hebe clothed him in a white robe for the banquet of the gods.

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ADMETOS.

There was high feasting in the halls of Pheres, because Admetos, his son, had brought home Alkestis, the fairest of all the daughters of Pelias, to be his bride. The minstrels sang of the glories of the house of Pherai, and of the brave deeds of Admetos—how, by the aid of the golden-haired Apollo, he had yoked the lion and the boar, and made them drag his chariot to Iolkos, for Pelias had said that only to one who came thus would he give his daughter, Alkestis, to be his wife. So the sound of mirth and revelry echoed through the hall, and the red wine was poured forth in honor of Zeus and all the gods, each by his name, but the name of Artemis was forgotten, and her wrath burned sore against the house of Admetos.

But one, mightier yet than Artemis, was nigh at hand to aid him, for Apollo, the son of Leto, served as a bondman in the house of Pheres, because he had slain the Cyclopes, who forged the thunderbolts of Zeus. No mortal blood flowed in his veins, but, though he could neither grow old nor die, nor could any of the sons of men do him hurt, yet all loved him for his gentle dealing, for all things had prospered in the land from the day when he came to the house of Admetos. And so it came to pass [546]that when the sacrifice of the marriage feast was ended, he spake to Admetos, and said, "The anger of Artemis, my sister, is kindled against thee, and it may be that she will smite thee with her spear, which can never miss its mark. But thou hast been to me a kind task-master, and though I am here as thy bond-servant, yet have I power still with my father, Zeus, and I have obtained for thee this boon, that, if thou art smitten by the spear of Artemis, thou shalt not die, if thou canst find one who in thy stead will go down to the dark kingdom of Hades."

Many a time the sun rose up into the heaven and sank down to sleep beneath the western waters, and still the hours went by full of deep joy to Admetos and his wife, Alkestis, for their hearts were knit together in a pure love, and no cloud of strife spread its dark shadow over their souls. Once only Admetos spake to her of the words of Apollo, and Alkestis answered with a smile, "Where is the pain of death, my husband, for those who love truly? Without thee I care not to live; wherefore, to die for thee will be a boon."

Once again there was high feasting in the house of Admetos, for Herakles, the mighty son of Alkmene, had come thither as he journeyed through many lands, doing the will of the false Eurystheus. But, even as the minstrels sang the praises of the chieftains of Pherai, the flush of life faded from the face of Admetos, and he felt that the hour of which Apollo had warned him was come. But soon the blood came back tingling through his veins, when he thought of the sacrifice which alone could save him from the sleep of death. Yet what will not a man do for his life? and how shall he withstand when the voice of love pleads on his side? So once again the fair Alkestis looked lovingly upon him, as she said, "There is no darkness for me in the land of Hades, if only I die for thee," and even as she spake the spell passed from Admetos, and the strength of the daughter of Pelias ebbed slowly away.

[547]The sound of mirth and feasting was hushed. The harps of the minstrels hung silent on the wall, and men spake in whispering voices, for the awful Moirai were at hand to bear Alkestis to the shadowy kingdom. On the couch lay her fair form, pale as the white lily which floats on the blue water, and beautiful as Eos when her light dies out of the sky in the evening. Yet a little while, and the strife was ended, and Admetos mourned in bitterness and shame for the love which he had lost.

Then the soul of the brave Herakles was stirred within him, and he sware that the Moirai should not win the victory. So he departed in haste, and far away in the unseen land he did battle with the powers of death, and rescued Alkestis from Hades, the stern and rugged King.

So once more she stood before Admetos, more radiant in her beauty than in former days, and once more in the halls of Pherai echoed the sound of high rejoicing, and the minstrels sang of the mighty deeds of the good and brave Herakles, as he went on his way from the home of Admetos to do in other lands the bidding of the fair mean Eurystheus.

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EPIMETHEUS AND PANDORA.

There was strife between Zeus and men, for Prometheus stood forth on their side and taught them how they might withstand the new god who sat on the throne of Kronos; and he said, "O men, Zeus is greedy of riches and honor, and your flocks and herds will be wasted with burnt-offerings if ye offer up to Zeus the whole victim. Come and let us make a covenant with him, that there may be a fair portion for him and for men." So Prometheus chose out a large ox, and slew him and divided the body. Under the skin he placed the entrails and the flesh, [548]and under the fat he placed the bones. Then he said, "Choose thy portion, O Zeus, and let that on which thou layest thine hands be thy share forever." So Zeus stretched forth his hand in haste, and placed it upon the fat, and fierce was his wrath when he found only the bare bones underneath it. Wherefore men offer up to the undying gods only the bones and fat of the victims that are slain.

Then in his anger Zeus sought how he might avenge himself on the race of men, and he took away from them the gift of fire, so that they were vexed by cold and darkness and hunger, until Prometheus brought them down fire which he had stolen from heaven. Then was the rage of Zeus still more cruel, and he smote Prometheus with his thunderbolts, and at his bidding Hermes bare him to the crags of Caucasus, and bound him with iron chains to the hard rock, where the vulture gnawed his heart with its beak.

But the wrath of Zeus was not appeased, and he sought how he might yet more vex the race of men; and he remembered how the Titan Prometheus had warned them to accept no gift from the gods, and how he left his brother Epimetheus to guard them against the wiles of the son of Kronos. And he said within himself, "The race of men knows neither sickness nor pain, strife or war, theft or falsehood; for all these evil things are sealed up in the great cask which is guarded by Epimetheus. I will let loose the evils, and the whole earth shall be filled with woe and misery."

So he called Hephaistos, the lord of fire, and he said, "Make ready a gift which all the undying gods shall give to the race of men. Take the earth, and fashion it into the shape of woman. Very fair let it be to look upon, but give her an evil nature, that the race of men may suffer for all the deeds that they have done to me." Then Hephaistos took the clay and moulded from it the image of a fair woman, and Athene clothed [549]her in a beautiful robe, and placed a crown upon her head, from which a veil fell over her snowy shoulders. And Hermes, the messenger of Zeus, gave her the power of words, and a greedy mind, to cheat and deceive the race of men. Then Hephaistos brought her before the assembly of the gods, and they marveled at the greatness of her beauty; and Zeus took her by the hand and gave her to Epimetheus, and said, "Ye toil hard, ye children of men; behold one who shall soothe and cheer you when the hours of toil are ended. The undying gods have taken pity on you, because ye have none to comfort you; and woman is their gift to men, therefore is her name called Pandora."

Then Epimetheus forgot the warning of his brother, and the race of men did obeisance to Zeus, and received Pandora at his hands, for the greatness of her beauty enslaved the hearts of all who looked upon her. But they rejoiced not long in the gift of the gods, for Pandora saw a great cask on the threshold of the house of Epimetheus, and she lifted the lid, and from it came strife and war, plague and sickness, theft and violence, grief and sorrow. Then in her terror she set down the lid again upon the cask, and Hope was shut up within it, so that she could not comfort the race of men for the grievous evil which Pandora had brought upon them.

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IO AND PROMETHEUS.

In the halls of Inachos, King of Argos, Zeus beheld and loved the fair maiden Io, but when Here, the Queen, knew it, she was very wroth, and sought to slay her. Then Zeus changed the maiden into a heifer, to save her from the anger of Here, but presently Here learned that the heifer was the maiden whom she hated, and she went to Zeus, and said, "Give me that which I shall desire," and Zeus answered, "Say on." Then Here said, [550]"Give me the beautiful heifer which I see feeding in the pastures of King Inachos." So Zeus granted her prayer, for he liked not to confess what he had done to Io to save her from the wrath of Here, and Here took the heifer and bade Argos, with the hundred eyes, watch over it by night and by day.

Long time Zeus sought how he might deliver the maiden from the vengeance of Here, but he strove in vain, for Argos never slept, and his hundred eyes saw everything around him, and none could approach without being seen and slain. At the last Zeus sent Hermes, the bright messenger of the gods, who stole gently towards Argos, playing soft music on his lute. Soothingly the sweet sounds fell upon his ear, and a deep sleep began to weigh down his eyelids, until Argos, with the hundred eyes, lay powerless before Hermes. Then Hermes drew his sharp sword, and with a single stroke he smote off his head, wherefore men call him the slayer of Argos, with the hundred eyes. But the wrath of Here was fiercer than ever when she learned that her watchman was slain, and she sware that the heifer should have no rest, but wander in terror and pain from land to land. So she sent a gad-fly to goad the heifer with its fiery sting over hill and valley, across sea and river, to torment her if she lay down to rest, and madden her with pain when she sought to sleep. In grief and madness she fled from the pastures of Inachos, past the city of Erechtheus into the land of Kadmos, the Theban. On and on still she went, resting not by night or day, through the Dorian and Thessalian plains, until at last she came to the wild Thrakian land. Her feet bled on the sharp stones, her body was torn by the thorns and brambles, and tortured by the stings of the fearful gad-fly. Still she fled on [551]and on, while the tears streamed often down her cheeks, and her moaning showed the greatness of her agony. "O Zeus," she said, "dost thou not see me in my misery? Thou didst tell me once of thy love, and dost thou suffer me now to be driven thus wildly from land to land, without hope of comfort or rest? Slay me at once, I pray thee, or suffer me to sink into the deep sea, that so I may put off the sore burden of my woe."

But Io knew not that, while she spake, one heard her who had suffered even harder things from Zeus. Far above her head, towards the desolate crags of Caucasus, the wild eagle soared shrieking in the sky, and the vulture hovered near, as though waiting close to some dying man till death should leave him for its prey. Dark snow-clouds brooded heavily on the mountain, the icy wind crept lazily through the frozen air, and Io thought that the hour of her death was come. Then, as she raised her head, she saw far off a giant form, which seemed fastened by nails to the naked rock, and a low groan reached her ear, as of one in mortal pain, and she heard a voice which said, "Whence comest thou, daughter of Inachos, into this savage wilderness? Hath the love of Zeus driven thee thus to the icy corners of the earth?" Then Io gazed at him in wonder and awe, and said, "How dost thou know my name and my sorrows? and what is thine own wrong? Tell me (if it is given to thee to know) what awaits thee and me in the time to come, for sure I am that thou art no mortal man. Thy giant form is as the form of gods or heroes, who come down sometimes to mingle with the sons of men, and great must be the wrath of Zeus, that thou shouldst be thus tormented here." Then he said, "Maiden, thou seest the Titan Prometheus, who brought down fire for the children of men, and taught them how to build themselves houses and till the earth, and how to win for themselves food and clothing. I gave them wise thoughts and good laws and prudent counsel, and raised them from the life of beasts to a life which [552]was fit for speaking men. But the son of Kronos was afraid at my doings, lest, with the aid of men, I might hurl him from his place and set up new gods upon his throne. So he forgot all my good deeds in times past, how I had aided him when the earth-born giants sought to destroy his power and heaped rock on rock and crag on crag to smite him on his throne, and he caught me by craft, telling me in smooth words how that he was my friend, and that my honor should not fail in the halls of Olympos. So he took me unawares and bound me with iron chains, and bade Hephaistos take and fasten me to this mountain-side, where the frost and wind and heat scorch and torment me by day and night, and the vulture gnaws my heart with its merciless beak. But my spirit is not wholly cast down, for I know that I have done good to the sons of men, and that they honor the Titan Prometheus, who has saved them from cold and hunger and sickness. And well I know, also, that the reign of Zeus shall one day come to an end, and that another shall sit at length upon his throne, even as now he sits on the throne of his father, Kronos. Hither come, also, those who seek to comfort me, and thou seest before thee the daughters of Okeanos, who have but now left the green halls of their father to talk with me. Listen, then, to me, daughter of Inachos, and I will tell thee what shall befall thee in time to come. Hence from the ice-bound chain of Caucasus thou shalt roam into the Scythian land and the regions of Chalybes. Thence thou shalt come to the dwelling-place of the Amazons, on the banks of the river Thermodon; these shall guide thee on thy way, until at length thou shalt come to a strait, which thou wilt cross, and which shall tell by its name forever where the heifer passed from Europe into Asia. But the end of thy wanderings is not yet."

Then Io could no longer repress her grief, and her tears burst forth afresh; and Prometheus said, "Daughter of Inachos, if thou sorrowest thus at what I have told thee, how wilt thou [553]bear to hear what beyond these things there remains for thee to do?" But Io said, "Of what use is it, O Titan, to tell me of these woeful wanderings? Better were it now to die and be at rest from all this misery and sorrow." "Nay, not so, O maiden of Argos," said Prometheus, "for if thou livest, the days will come when Zeus shall be cast down from his throne, and the end of his reign shall also be the end of my sufferings. For when thou hast passed by the Thrakian Bosporos into the land of Asia, thou wilt wander on through many regions, where the Gorgons dwell, and the Arimaspians and Ethiopians, until at last thou shalt come to the three-cornered land where the mighty Nile goes out by its many arms into the sea. There shall be thy resting-place, and there shall Epaphos, thy son, be born, from whom, in times yet far away, shall spring the great Herakles, who shall break my chain and set me free from my long torments. And if in this thou doubtest my words, I can tell thee of every land through which thou hast passed on thy journey hither; but it is enough if I tell thee how the speaking oaks of Dodona hailed thee as one day to be the wife of Zeus and the mother of the mighty Epaphos. Hasten, then, on thy way, daughter of Inachos. Long years of pain and sorrow await thee still, but my griefs shall endure for many generations. It avails not now to weep, but this comfort thou hast, that thy lot is happier than mine, and for both of us remains the surety that the right shall at last conquer, and the power of Zeus shall be brought low, even as the power of Kronos, whom he hurled from his ancient throne. Depart hence quickly, for I see Hermes, the messenger, drawing nigh, and perchance he comes with fresh torments for thee and me."

So Io went on her weary road, and Hermes drew nigh to Prometheus, and bade him once again yield himself to the will of the mighty Zeus. But Prometheus laughed him to scorn, and as Hermes turned to go away, the icy wind came shrieking [554]through the air, and the dark cloud sank lower and lower down the hillside, until it covered the rock on which the body of the Titan was nailed, and the great mountain heaved with the earthquake, and the blazing thunderbolts darted fearfully through the sky. Brighter and brighter flashed the lightning, and louder pealed the thunder in the ears of Prometheus, but he quailed not for all the fiery majesty of Zeus, and still, as the storm grew fiercer and the curls of fire were wreathed around his form, his voice was heard amid the din and roar, and it spake of the day when the good shall triumph and unjust power shall be crushed and destroyed forever.

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DEUKALION.

From his throne on the high Olympos, Zeus looked down on the children of men, and saw that everywhere they followed only their lusts, and cared nothing for right or for law. And ever, as their hearts waxed grosser in their wickedness, they devised for themselves new rites to appease the anger of the gods, till the whole earth was filled with blood. Far away in the hidden glens of the Arcadian hills the sons of Lykaon feasted and spake proud words against the majesty of Zeus, and Zeus himself came down from his throne to see their way and their doings.

The sun was sinking down in the sky when an old man drew nigh to the gate of Lykosoura. His gray locks streamed in the breeze, and his beard fell in tangled masses over his tattered mantle. With staff in hand he plodded wearily on his way, listening to the sound of revelry which struck upon his ear. At last he came to the Agora, and the sons of Lykaon crowded round him. "So the wise seer is come," they said; "what tale [555]hast thou to tell us, old man? Canst thou sing of the days when the earth came forth from Chaos? Thou art old enough to have been there to see." Then with rude jeering they seized him and placed him on the ground near the place where they were [556]feasting. "We have done a great sacrifice to Zeus this day, and thy coming is timely, for thou shalt share the banquet." So they placed before him a dish, and the food that was in it was the flesh of man, for with the blood of men they thought to turn aside the anger of the gods. But the old man thrust aside the dish, and, as he rose up, the weariness of age passed away from his face, and the sons of Lykaon were scorched by the glory of his countenance, for Zeus stood before them and scathed them all with his lightnings, and their ashes cumbered the ground.

Then Zeus returned to his home on Olympos, and he gave the word that a flood of waters should be let loose upon the earth, that the sons of men might die for their great wickedness. So the west wind rose in his might, and the dark rain-clouds veiled the whole heaven, for the winds of the north which drive away the mists and vapors were shut up in their prison-house. On the hill and valley burst the merciless rain, and the rivers, loosened from their courses, rushed over the wide plains and up the mountain-side. From his home on the highlands of Phthia, Deukalion looked forth on the angry sky, and, when he saw the waters swelling in the valleys beneath, he called Pyrrha, his wife, the daughter of Epimetheus, and said to her, "The time is come of which my father, the wise Prometheus, forewarned me. Make ready, therefore, the ark which I have built, and place in it all that we may need for food while the flood of waters is out upon the earth. Far away on the crags of Caucasus the iron nails rend the flesh of Prometheus, and the vulture gnaws his heart, but the words which he spake are being fulfilled, that for the wickedness of men the flood of waters would come upon the earth, for Zeus himself is but the servant of one that is mightier than he, and must do his bidding."

Then Pyrrha hastened to make all things ready, and they waited until the waters rose up to the highlands of Phthia and floated away the ark of Deukalion. The fishes swam amidst [557]the old elm groves, and twined amongst the gnarled boughs of the oaks, while on the face of the waters were tossed the bodies of men, and Deukalion looked on the dead faces of stalwart warriors, of maidens, and of babes, as they rose and fell upon the heaving waves. Eight days the ark was borne on the flood, while the waters covered the hills, and all the children of men died save a few who found a place of shelter on the summit of the mountains. On the ninth day the ark rested on the heights of Parnassos, and Deukalion, with his wife Pyrrha, stepped forth upon the desolate earth. Hour by hour the waters fled down the valleys, and dead fishes and sea-monsters lay caught in the tangled branches of the forest. But, far as the eye could reach, there was no sign of living thing, save of the vultures who wheeled in circles through the heaven to swoop upon their prey, and Deukalion looked on Pyrrha, and their hearts were filled with a grief which can not be told. "We know not," he said, "whether there live any one of all the sons of men, or in what hour the sleep of death may fall upon us. But the mighty being who sent the flood has saved us from its waters; to him let us build an altar and bring our thankoffering." So the altar was built and Zeus had respect to the prayer of Deukalion, and presently Hermes, the messenger, stood before him. "Ask what thou wilt," he said, "and it shall be granted thee, for in thee alone of all the sons of men hath Zeus found a clean hand and a pure heart." Then Deukalion bowed himself before Hermes, and said, "The whole earth lies desolate; I pray thee, let men be seen upon it once more." "Even so shall it come to pass," said Hermes, "if ye will cover your faces with your mantles and cast the bones of your mother behind you as ye go upon your way."

So Hermes departed to the home of Zeus, and Deukalion pondered his words, till the wisdom of his father, Prometheus, showed him that his mother was the earth, and that they were to [558]cast the stones behind them as they went down from Parnassos. Then they did each as they were bidden, and the stones which Deukalion threw were turned into men, but those which were thrown by Pyrrha became women, and the people which knew neither father nor mother went forth to their toil throughout the wide earth. The sun shone brightly in the heaven and dried up the slime beneath them; yet was their toil but a weary labor, and so hath it been until this day—a struggle hard as the stones from which they have been taken.

But as the years passed on, there were children born to Pyrrha and Deukalion, and the old race of men still lived on the heights of Phthia. From Helen their son, sprang the mighty tribes of the Hellenes, and from Protogeneia, their daughter, was born Aethlios, the man of toil and suffering, the father of Endymion, the fair, who sleeps on the hill of Latmos.

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POSEIDON AND ATHENE.

Near the banks of the stream Kephisos, Erechtheus had built a city in a rocky and thin-soiled land. He was the father of a free and brave people, and though his city was small and humble, yet Zeus, by his wisdom, foresaw that one day it would become the noblest of all cities throughout the wide earth. And there was a strife between Poseidon, the lord of the sea, and Athene, the virgin child of Zeus, to see by whose name the city of Erechtheus should be called. So Zeus appointed a day in which he would judge between them in presence of the great gods who dwell on high Olympos.

When the day was come, the gods sat each on his golden throne, on the banks of the stream Kephisos. High above all was the throne of Zeus, the great father of gods and men, and [559]by his side sat Here, the Queen. This day even the sons of men might gaze upon them, for Zeus had laid aside his lightnings, and all the gods had come down in peace to listen to his judgment between Poseidon and Athene. There sat Phœbus Apollo with his golden harp in his hand. His face glistened for the brightness of his beauty, but there was no anger in his gleaming eye, and idle by his side lay the unerring spear, with which he smites all who deal falsely and speak lies. There, beside him, sat Artemis, his sister, whose days were spent in chasing the beasts of the earth and in sporting with the nymphs on the reedy banks of Eurotas. There, by the side of Zeus, sat Hermes, ever bright and youthful, the spokesman of the gods, with staff in hand, to do the will of the great father. There sat Hephaistos, the lord of fire, and Hestia, who guards the hearth. There, too, was Ares, who delights in war, and Dionysos, who loves the banquet and the wine-cup, and Aphrodite, who rose from the sea-foam, to fill the earth with laughter and woe.

Before them all stood the great rivals, awaiting the judgment of Zeus. High in her left hand, Athene held the invincible spear, and on her ægis, hidden from mortal sight, was the face on which no man may gaze and live. Close beside her, proud in the greatness of his power, Poseidon waited the issue of the contest. In his right hand gleamed the trident, with which he shakes the earth and cleaves the waters of the sea.

Then, from his golden seat, rose the spokesman, Hermes, and his clear voice sounded over all the great council. "Listen," he said, "to the will of Zeus, who judges now between Poseidon and Athene. The city of Erechtheus shall bear the name of that god who shall bring forth out of the earth the best gift for the sons of men. If Poseidon do this, the city shall be called Poseidonia, but if Athene brings the higher gift it shall be called Athens."

Then King Poseidon rose up in the greatness of his majesty, [560]and with his trident he smote the earth where he stood. Straightway the hill was shaken to its depths, and the earth clave asunder, and forth from the chasm leaped a horse, such as never shall be seen again for strength and beauty. His body shone white all over as the driven snow, his mane streamed proudly in the wind as he stamped on the ground and scoured in very wantonness over hill and valley. "Behold my gift," said Poseidon, "and call the city after my name. Who shall give aught better than the horse to the sons of men?"

But Athene looked steadfastly at the gods with her keen gray eye, and she stooped slowly down to the ground, and planted in it a little seed, which she held in her right hand. She spoke no word, but still gazed calmly on that great council. Presently they saw springing from the earth a little germ, which grew up and threw out its boughs and leaves. Higher and higher it rose, with all its thick green foliage, and put forth fruit on its clustering branches. "My gift is better, O Zeus," she said, "than that of King Poseidon. The horse which he has given shall bring war and strife and anguish to the children of men; my olive-tree is the sign of peace and plenty, of health and strength, and the pledge of happiness and freedom. Shall not, then, the city of Erechtheus be called after my name?"

Then with one accord rose the voices of the gods in the air, as they cried out, "The gift of Athene is the best which may be given to the sons of men; it is the token that the city of Erechtheus shall be greater in peace than in war, and nobler in its freedom than its power. Let the city be called Athens."

Then Zeus, the mighty son of Kronos, bowed his head in sign of judgment that the city should be called by the name of Athene. From his head the immortal locks streamed down, and the earth trembled beneath his feet as he rose from his golden throne to return to the halls of Olympos. But still Athene stood gazing over the land which was now her own; and she stretched [561]out her spear towards the city of Erechtheus, and said: "I have won the victory, and here shall be my home. Here shall my children grow up in happiness and freedom, and hither shall the sons of men come to learn of law and order. Here shall they see what great things may be done by mortal hands when aided by the gods who dwell on Olympos, and when the torch of freedom has gone out at Athens, its light shall be handed on to other lands, and men shall learn that my gift is still the best, and they shall say that reverence for law and freedom of thought and deed has come to them from the city of Erechtheus, which bears the name of Athene."

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MEDUSA.

In the far western land, where the Hesperides guard the golden apples which Gaia gave to the lady Here, dwelt the maiden Medusa, with her sisters Stheino and Euryale, in their lonely and dismal home. Between them and the land of living men flowed the gentle stream of ocean, so that only the name of the Gorgon sisters was known to the sons of men, and the heart of Medusa yearned in vain to see some face which might look on her with love and pity, for on her lay the doom of death, but her sisters could neither grow old nor die. For them there was nothing fearful in the stillness of their gloomy home, as they sat with stern, unpitying faces, gazing on the silent land beyond the ocean stream. But Medusa wandered to and fro, longing to see something new in a home to which no change ever came, and her heart pined for lack of those things which gladden the souls of mortal men. For where she dwelt there was neither day nor night. She never saw the bright children of Helios driving his flocks to their pastures in the morning. She never beheld the stars as they look out from the sky, when the sun sinks down [562]into his golden cup in the evening. There no clouds ever passed across the heaven, no breeze ever whispered in the air, but a pale yellow light brooded on the land everlastingly. So there rested on the face of Medusa a sadness such as the children of men may never feel; and the look of hopeless pain was the more terrible because of the greatness of her beauty. She spake not to any of her awful grief, for her sisters knew not of any such thing as gentleness and love, and there was no comfort for her from the fearful Graiai who were her kinsfolk. Sometimes she sought them out in their dark caves, for it was something to see even the faint glimmer of the light of day which reached the dwelling of the Graiai, but they spake not to her a word of hope when she told them of her misery, and she wandered back to the land which the light of Helios might never enter. Her brow was knit with pain, but no tear wetted her cheek, for her grief was too great for weeping.

But harder things yet were in store for Medusa, for Athene, the daughter of Zeus, came from the Libyan land to the dwelling of the Gorgon sisters, and she charged Medusa to go with her to the gardens where the children of Hesperos guard the golden apples of the lady Here. Then Medusa bowed herself down at the feet of Athene, and besought her to have pity on her changeless sorrow, and she said, "Child of Zeus, thou dwellest with thy happy kinsfolk, where Helios gladdens all with his light and the Horai lead the glad dance when Phœbus touches the strings of his golden harp. Here there is neither night nor day, nor cloud or breeze or storm. Let me go forth from this horrible land and look on the face of mortal men, for I, too, must die, and my heart yearns for the love which my sisters scorn." Then Athene looked on her sternly, and said, "What hast thou to do with love? and what is the love of men for one who is of kin to the beings who may not die? Tarry here till thy doom is accomplished, and then it may be that Zeus will [563]grant thee a place among those who dwell in his glorious home." But Medusa said, "Lady, let me go forth now. I can not tell how many ages may pass before I die, and thou knowest not the yearning which fills the heart of mortal things for tenderness and love." Then a look of anger came over the fair face of Athene, and she said, "Trouble me not. Thy prayer is vain, and the sons of men would shrink from thee, if thou couldst go among them, for hardly could they look on the woeful sorrow of thy countenance." But Medusa answered, gently, "Lady, hope has a wondrous power to kill the deepest grief, and in the pure light of Helios my face may be as fair as thine."

Then the anger of Athene became fiercer still, and she said, "Dost thou dare to vie with me? I stand by the side of Zeus, [564]to do his will, and the splendor of his glory rests upon me, and what art thou, that thou shouldst speak to me such words as these? Therefore, hear thy doom. Henceforth, if mortal man ever look upon thee, one glance of thy face shall turn him to stone. Thy beauty shall still remain, but it shall be to thee the blackness of death. The hair which streams in golden tresses over thy fair shoulders shall be changed into hissing snakes, which shall curl and cluster round thy neck. On thy countenance shall be seen only fear and dread, that so all mortal things which look on thee may die." So Athene departed from her, and the blackness of the great horror rested on the face of Medusa, and the hiss of the snakes was heard as they twined around her head and their coils were wreathed about her neck. Yet the will of Athene was not wholly accomplished, for the heart of Medusa was not changed by the doom which gave to her face its deadly power, and she said, "Daughter of Zeus, there is hope yet, for thou hast left me mortal still, and, one day, I shall die."

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DANAE.

From the home of Phœbus Apollo, at Delphi, came words of warning to Akrisios, the King of Argos, when he sent to ask what should befall him in the after days, and the warning was that he should be slain by the son of his daughter, Danae. So the love of Akrisios was changed towards his child, who was growing up fair as the flowers of spring, in her father's house, and he shut her up in a dungeon, caring nothing for her wretchedness. But the power of Zeus was greater than the power of Akrisios, and Danae became the mother of Perseus, and they called her child the Son of the Bright Morning, because Zeus had scattered the darkness of her prison-house. Then Akrisios feared exceedingly, and he spake the word that Danae and her child should die.

[565]The first streak of day was spreading its faint light in the eastern sky when they led Danae to the sea-shore, and put her in a chest, with a loaf of bread and a flask of water. Her child slept in her arms, and the rocking of the waves, as they bore the chest over the heaving sea, made him slumber yet more sweetly, and the tears of Danae fell on him as she thought of the days that were past and the death which she must die in the dark waters. And she prayed to Zeus, and said, "O Zeus, who hast given me my child, canst thou hear me still and save me from this terrible doom?" Then a deep sleep came over Danae, and, as she slept with the babe in her arms, the winds carried the chest at the bidding of Poseidon, and cast it forth on the shore of the island of Seriphos.

Now it so chanced that Diktys, the brother of Polydektes, the King of the Island, was casting a net into the sea, when he saw something thrown up by the waves on the dry land, and he went hastily and took Danae with her child out of the chest, and said, "Fear not, lady, no harm shall happen to thee here, and they who have dealt hardly with thee shall not come nigh to hurt thee in this land." So he led her to the house of King Polydektes, who welcomed her to his home, and Danae had rest after all her troubles.

Thus the time went on, and the child Perseus grew up brave and strong, and all who saw him marveled at his beauty. The light of early morning is not more pure than was the color on his fair cheeks, and the golden locks streamed brightly over his shoulders, like the rays of the sun when they rest on the hills at midday. And [566]Danae said, "My child, in the land where thou wast born, they called thee the Son of the Bright Morning. Keep thy faith, and deal justly with all men; so shalt thou deserve the name which they gave thee." Thus Perseus grew up, hating all things that were mean and wrong, and all who looked on him knew that his hands were clean and his heart pure.

But there were evil days in store for Danae—for King Polydektes sought to win her love against her will. Long time he besought her to hearken to his prayer, but her heart was far away in the land of Argos, where her child was born, and she said, "O King, my life is sad and weary; what is there in me that thou shouldst seek my love? There are maidens in thy kingdom fairer far than I; leave me, then, to take care of my child while we dwell in a strange land." Then Polydektes said, hastily, "Think not, lady, to escape me thus. If thou wilt not hearken to my words, thy child shall not remain with thee, but I will send him forth far away into the western land, that he may bring me the head of the Gorgon Medusa."

So Danae sat weeping when Polydektes had left her, and when Perseus came he asked her why she mourned and wept, and he said, "Tell me, my mother, if the people of this land have done thee wrong, and I will take a sword in my hand and smite them." Then Danae answered, "Many toils await thee in time to come, but here thou canst do nothing. Only be of good courage, and deal truly, and one day thou shalt be able to save me from my enemies."

Still, as the months went on, Polydektes sought to gain the love of Danae, until at last he began to hate her because she would not listen to his prayer. And he spake the word, that Perseus must go forth to slay Medusa, and that Danae must be shut up in a dungeon until the boy should return from the land of the Graiai and the Gorgons.

So once more Danae lay within a prison, and the boy [567]Perseus came to bid her farewell before he set out on his weary journey. Then Danae folded her arms around him, and looked sadly into his eyes, and said, "My child, whatever a mortal man can do for his mother, that, I know, thou wilt do for me, but I can not tell whither thy long toils shall lead thee, save that the land of the Gorgons lies beyond the slow-rolling stream of Ocean. Nor can I tell how thou canst do the bidding of Polydektes, for Medusa alone of the Gorgon sisters may grow old and die, and the deadly snakes will slay those who come near, and one glance of her woeful eye can turn all mortal things to stone. Once, they say, she was fair to look upon, but the lady Athene has laid on her a dark doom, so that all who see the Gorgon's face must die. It may be, Perseus, that the heart of Medusa is full rather of grief than hatred, and that not of her own will the woeful glare of her eye changes all mortal things into stone, and, if so it be, then the deed which thou art charged to do shall set her free from a hateful life, and bring to her some of those good things for which now she yearns in vain. Go, then, my child, and prosper. Thou hast a great warfare before thee, and though I know not how thou canst win the victory, yet I know that true and fair dealing gives a wondrous might to the children of men, and Zeus will strengthen the arm of those who hate treachery and lies."

Then Perseus bade his mother take courage, and vowed a vow that he would not trust in craft and falsehood, and he said, "I know not, my mother, the dangers and the foes which await me, but be sure that I will not meet them with any weapons which thou wouldst scorn. Only, as the days and months roll on, think not that evil has befallen me, for there is hope within me that I shall be able to do the bidding of Polydektes and to bear thee hence to our Argive land." So Perseus went forth with a good courage to seek out the Gorgon Medusa.

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[568]PERSEUS.

The east wind crested with a silvery foam the waves of the sea of Helle, when Perseus went into the ship which was to bear him away from Seriphos. The white sail was spread to the breeze, and the ship sped gaily over the heaving waters. Soon the blue hills rose before them, and as the sun sank down in the west, Perseus trod once more the Argive land.

But there was no rest for him now in his ancient home. On and on, through Argos and other lands, he must wander in search of the Gorgon, with nothing but his strong heart and his stout arm to help him. Yet for himself he feared not, and if his eyes filled with tears, it was only because he thought of his mother, Danae; and he said within himself, "O, my mother, I would that thou wert here. I see the towers of the fair city where Akrisios still is King. I see the home which thou longest to behold, and which now I may not enter, but one day I shall bring thee hither in triumph, when I come to win back my birthright."

Brightly before his mind rose the vision of the time to come, as he lay down to rest beneath the blue sky, but when his eyes were closed in sleep, there stood before him a vision yet more glorious, for the lady Athene was come from the home of Zeus, to aid the young hero as he set forth on his weary labor. Her face gleamed with a beauty such as is not given to the daughters of men. But Perseus feared not because of her majesty, for the soft spell of sleep lay on him, and he heard her words as she said, "I am come down from Olympos, where dwells my father, Zeus, to help thee in thy mighty toil. Thou art brave of heart and strong of hand, but thou knowest not the way which thou shouldst go, and thou hast no weapons with which to slay the Gorgon Medusa. Many things thou needest, but only against the freezing stare of the Gorgon's face can I guard thee now. [569]On her countenance thou canst not look and live, and even when she is dead, one glance of that fearful face will still turn all mortal things to stone. So, when thou drawest nigh to slay her, thine eye must not rest upon her. Take good heed, then, to thyself, for while they are awake the Gorgon sisters dread no danger, for the snakes which curl around their heads warn them of every peril. Only while they sleep canst thou approach them, and the face of Medusa, in life or in death, thou must never see. Take, then, this mirror, into which thou canst look, and when thou beholdest her image there, then nerve thy heart and take thine aim, and carry away with thee the head of the mortal maiden. Linger not in thy flight, for her sisters will pursue after thee, and they can neither grow old nor die."

So Athene departed from him, and early in the morning he saw by his side the mirror which she had given to him, and he said, "Now I know that my toil is not in vain, and the help of Athene is a pledge of yet more aid in time to come." So he journeyed on with a good heart over hill and dale, across rivers and forests, towards the setting of the sun. Manfully he toiled on, till sleep weighed heavy on his eyes, and he lay down to rest on a broad stone in the evening. Once more before him stood a glorious form. A burnished helmet glistened on his head, a golden staff was in his hand, and on his feet were the golden sandals, which bore him through the air with a flight more swift than the eagle's. And Perseus heard a voice which said, "I am Hermes, the messenger of Zeus, and I come to arm thee against thine enemies. Take this sword, which slays all mortal things on which it may fall, and go on thy way with a cheerful heart. A weary road yet lies before thee, and for many a long day must thou wander on before thou canst have other help in thy mighty toil. Far away, towards the setting of the sun, lies the Tartessian land, whence thou shalt see the white-crested mountains where Atlas holds up the pillars of the heaven. There [570]must thou cross the dark waters, and then thou wilt find thyself in the land of the Graiai, who are of kin to the Gorgon sisters, and thou wilt see no more the glory of Helios, who gladdens the homes of living men. Only a faint light from the far-off sun comes dimly to the desolate land where, hidden in the gloomy cave, lurk the hapless Graiai. These thou must seek out, and when thou hast found them, fear them not. Over their worn and wrinkled faces stream tangled masses of long gray hair, their voice comes hollow from their toothless gums, and a single eye is passed from one to the other when they wish to look forth from their dismal dwelling. Seek them out, for these alone can tell thee what more remaineth yet for thee to do."

When Perseus woke in the morning, the sword of Hermes lay beside him, and he rose up with great joy, and said, "The help of Zeus fails me not; if more is needed will he not grant it to me?" So onward he went to the Tartessian land, and thence across the dark sea towards the country of the Graiai, till he saw the pillars of Atlas rise afar off into the sky. Then, as he drew nigh to the hills which lay beneath them, he came to a dark cave, and as he stooped to look into it, he fancied that he saw the gray hair which streamed over the shoulders of the Graiai. Long time he rested on the rocks without the cave, till he knew by their heavy breathing that the sisters were asleep. Then he crept in stealthily, and took the eye which lay beside them, and waited till they should wake. At last, as the faint light from the far-off sun, who shines on mortal men, reached the cave, he saw them groping for the eye which he had taken, and presently, from their toothless jaws, came a hollow voice, which said, "There is some one near us who is sprung from the children of men, for of old time we have known that one should come and leave us blind until we did his bidding." Then Perseus came forth boldly and stood before them, and said, "Daughters of Phorkos and of Keto, I know that ye are of kin to the Gorgon [571]sisters, and to these ye must now guide me. Think not to escape my craft or guile, for in my hands is the sword of Hermes, and it slays all living things on which it may fall." And they answered, quickly, "Slay us not, child of man, for we will deal truly by thee, and will tell thee of the things which must be done before thou canst reach the dwelling of the Gorgon sisters. Go hence along the plain which stretches before thee, then over hill and vale, and forest and desert, till thou comest to the slow-rolling Ocean stream; there call on the nymphs who dwell beneath the waters, and they shall rise at thy bidding and tell thee many things which it is not given to us to know."

Onwards again he went, across the plain, and over hill and vale till he came to the Ocean which flows lazily round the world of living men. No ray of the pure sunshine pierced the murky air, but the pale yellow light, which broods on the land of the Gorgons, showed to him the dark stream, as he stood on the banks and summoned the nymphs to do his bidding. Presently they stood before him, and greeted him by his name, and they said, "O Perseus, thou art the first of living men whose feet have trodden this desolate shore. Long time have we known that the will of Zeus would bring thee hither to accomplish the doom of the mortal Medusa. We know the things of which thou art in need, and without us thy toil would in very truth be vain. Thou hast to come near to beings who can see all around them, for the snakes which twist about their heads are their eyes, and here is the helmet of Hades, which will enable thee to draw nigh to them unseen. Thou hast the sword which never falls in vain; but without this bag which we give thee, thou canst not bear away the head, the sight of which changes all mortal things to stone. And when thy work of death is done on the mortal maiden, thou must fly from her sisters who can not die, and who will follow thee more swiftly than eagles, and here are the sandals which shall waft thee through [572]the air more quickly than a dream. Hasten, then, child of Danae, for we are ready to bear thee in our hands across the Ocean stream."

So they bare Perseus to the Gorgon land, and he journeyed on in the pale yellow light which rests upon it everlastingly.

On that night, in the darkness of their lonesome dwelling, Medusa spake to her sisters of the doom which should one day be accomplished, and she said, "Sisters, ye care little for the grief whose image on my face turns all mortal things to stone. Ye who know not old age or death, know not the awful weight of my agony, and can not feel the signs of the change that is coming. But I know them. The snakes which twine around my head warn me not in vain; but they warn me against perils which I care not now to shun. The wrath of Athene, who crushed the faint hopes which lingered in my heart, left me mortal still, and I am weary with the woe of the ages that are past. O sisters, ye know not what it is to pity, but something more, ye know what it is to love, for even in this living tomb we have dwelt together in peace, and peace is of kin to love. But hearken to me now. Mine eyes are heavy with sleep, and my heart tells me that the doom is coming, for I am but a mortal maiden, and I care not if the slumber which is stealing on me be the sleep of those whose life is done. Sisters, my lot is happier at the least than yours, for he who slays me is my friend. I am weary of my woe, and it may be that better things await me when I am dead."

But even as Medusa spake, the faces of Stheino and Euryale remained unchanged, and it seemed as though for them the words of Medusa were but an empty sound. Presently the Gorgon sisters were all asleep. The deadly snakes lay still and quiet, and only the breath which hissed from their mouths was heard throughout the cave.

Then Perseus drew nigh, with the helmet of Hades on his [573]head, and the sandals of the nymphs on his feet. In his right hand was the sword of Hermes, and in his left the mirror of Athene. Long time he gazed on the image of Medusa's face, which still showed the wreck of her ancient beauty, and he said within himself, "Mortal maiden, well may it be that more than mortal woe should give to thy countenance its deadly power. The hour of thy doom is come, but death to thee must be a boon." Then the sword of Hermes fell, and the great agony of Medusa was ended. So Perseus cast a veil over the dead face, and bare it away from the cave in the bag which the nymphs gave him on the banks of the slow-rolling Ocean.

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ANDROMEDA.

Terrible was the rage of the Gorgon sisters when they woke up from their sleep and saw that the doom of Medusa had been accomplished. The snakes hissed as they rose in knotted clusters round their heads, and the Gorgons gnashed their teeth in fury, not for any love of the mortal maiden whose woes were ended, but because a child of weak and toiling men had dared to approach the daughters of Phorkos and Keto. Swifter than the eagles they sped from their gloomy cave, but they sought in vain to find Perseus, for the helmet of Hades was on his head, and the sandals of the nymphs were bearing him through the air like a dream. Onwards he went, not knowing whither he was borne, for he saw but dimly through the pale yellow light which brooded on the Gorgon land everlastingly; but presently he heard a groan as from one in mortal pain, and before him he beheld a giant form, on whose head rested the pillars of the heaven, and he heard a voice, which said, "Hast thou slain the Gorgon Medusa, child of man, and art thou come to rid me of my long woe? [574]Look on me, for I am Atlas, who rose up with the Titans against the power of Zeus, when Prometheus fought on his side; and of old time have I known that for me is no hope of rest till a mortal man should bring hither the Gorgon head which can turn all living things to stone. For so was it shown to me from Zeus, when he made me bow down beneath the weight of the brazen heaven. Yet, if thou hast slain Medusa, Zeus hath been more merciful to me than to Prometheus who was his friend, for he lies nailed on the rugged crags of Caucasus, and only thy child in the third generation shall scare away the vulture which gnaws his heart, and set the Titan free. But hasten now, Perseus, and let me look on the Gorgon's face, for the agony of my labor is well nigh greater than I can bear." So Perseus hearkened to the words of Atlas, and he unveiled before him the dead face of Medusa. Eagerly he gazed for a moment on the changeless countenance, as though beneath the blackness of great horror he could yet see the wreck of her ancient beauty and pitied her for her hopeless woe. But in an instant the straining eyes were closed, the heaving breast was still, the limbs which trembled with the weight of heaven were still and cold, and it seemed to Perseus, as he rose again into the pale yellow air, that the gray hairs which streamed from the giant's head were like the snow which rests on the peaks of the great mountain, and that in place of the trembling limbs he saw only the rents and clefts on a rough hill-side.

Onward yet and higher he sped, he knew not whither, on the golden sandals, till from the murky glare of the Gorgon land he passed into a soft and tender light, in which all things wore the colors of a dream. It was not the light of sun or moon, for in that land was neither day nor night. No breeze wafted the light clouds of morning through the sky, or stirred the leaves of the forest trees where the golden fruits glistened the whole year round, but from beneath rose the echoes of sweet music, as [575]he glided gently down to the earth. Then he took the helmet of Hades from off his head, and asked the people whom he met the name of this happy land, and they said, "We dwell where the icy breath of Boreas can not chill the air or wither our fruits, therefore is our land called the garden of the Hyperboreans." There, for a while, Perseus rested from his toil, and all day long he saw the dances of happy maidens fair as Hebe and Harmonia, and he shared the rich banquets at which the people of the land feasted with wreaths of laurel twined around their head. There he rested in a deep peace, for no sound of strife or war can ever break it, and they know nothing of malice and hatred, of sickness or old age.

But presently Perseus remembered his mother, Danae, as she lay in her prison-house, at Seriphos, and he left the garden of the Hyperboreans to return to the world of toiling men, but the people of the land knew only that it lay beyond the slow-rolling Ocean stream, and Perseus saw not whither he went as he rose on his golden sandals into the soft and dreamy air. Onwards he flew, until far beneath he beheld the Ocean river, and once more he saw the light of Helios, as he drove his fiery chariot through the heaven. Far away stretched the mighty Libyan plain, and further yet, beyond the hills which shut it in, he saw the waters of the dark sea, and the white line of foam, where the breakers were dashed upon the shore. As he came nearer, he saw the huge rocks which rose out of the heaving waters, and on one of them he beheld a maiden, whose limbs were fastened with chains to a stone. The folds of her white robe fluttered in the breeze, and her fair face was worn and wasted with the heat by day and the cold by night. Then Perseus hastened to her, and stood a long time before her, but she saw him not, for the helmet of Hades was on his head, and he watched her there till the tears started to his eyes for pity. Her hands were clasped upon her breast, and only the moving of her lips showed the greatness [576]of her misery. Higher and higher rose the foaming waters, till at last the maiden said, "O Zeus, is there none whom thou canst send to help me?" Then Perseus took the helmet in his hand, and stood before her in all his glorious beauty, and the maiden knew that she had nothing to fear when he said, "Lady, I see that thou art in great sorrow; tell me who it is that has wronged thee, and I will avenge thee mightily." And she answered, "Stranger, whoever thou art, I will trust thee, for thy face tells me that thou art not one of those who deal falsely. My name is Andromeda, and my father, Kepheus, is King of the rich Libyan land, but there is strife between him and the old man, Nereus, who dwells with his daughters in the coral caves, beneath the sea, for, as I grew up in my father's house, my mother made a vain boast of my beauty, and said that among all the children of Nereus there was none so fair as I." So Nereus rose from his coral caves, and went to the King Poseidon, and said, "King of the broad sea, Kassiopeia, hath done a grievous wrong to me and to my children. I pray thee let not her people escape for her evil words.

Then Poseidon let loose the waters of the sea, and they rushed in over the Libyan plains till only the hills which shut it in remained above them, and a mighty monster came forth and devoured all the fruits of the land. In grief and terror the people fell down before my father, Kepheus, and he sent to the home of Ammon to ask what he should do for the plague of waters and for the savage beast who vexed them; and soon the answer came that he must chain up his daughter on a rock, till the beast came and took her for his prey. So they fastened me here to this desolate crag, and each day the monster comes nearer as the waters rise; and soon, I think, they will place me within his reach." Then Perseus cheered her with kindly words, and said, "Maiden, I am Perseus, to whom Zeus has given the power to do great things. I hold in my hand the sword of Hermes, [577]which has slain the Gorgon Medusa, and I am bearing to Polydektes, who rules in Seriphos, the head which turns all who look on it into stone. Fear not, then, Andromeda. I will do battle with the monster, and, when thy foes are vanquished, I will sue for the boon of thy love." A soft blush as of great gladness came over the pale cheek of Andromeda, as she answered, "O Perseus, why should I hide from thee my joy? Thou hast come to me like the light of the morning when it breaks on a woeful night." But, even as she spake, the rage of the waves waxed greater, and the waters rose higher and higher, lashing the rocks in their fury, and the hollow roar of the monster was heard as he hastened to seize his prey. Presently by the maiden's side he saw a glorious form with the flashing sword in his hand, and he lashed the waters in fiercer anger. Then Perseus went forth to meet him, and he held aloft the sword which Hermes gave to him, and said, "Sword of Phœbus, let thy stroke be sure, for thou smitest the enemy of the helpless." So the sword fell, and the blood of the mighty beast reddened the waters of the green sea.

In gladness of heart Perseus led the maiden to the halls of Kepheus, and said, "O King, I have slain the monster to whom thou didst give thy child for a prey; let her go with me now to other lands, if she gainsay me not." But Kepheus answered, "Tarry with us yet a while, and the marriage feast shall be made ready, if indeed thou must hasten away from the Libyan land." So, at the banquet, by the side of Perseus sate the beautiful Andromeda; but there arose a fierce strife, for Phineus had come to the feast, and it angered him that another should [578]have for his wife the maiden whom he had sought to make his bride. Deeper and fiercer grew his rage, as he looked on the face of Perseus, till at last he spake evil words of the stranger who had taken away the prize which should have been his own. But Perseus said, calmly, "Why, then, didst thou not slay the monster thyself and set the maiden free?" When Phineus heard these words his rage almost choked him, and he charged his people to draw their swords and slay Perseus. Wildly rose the din in the banquet hall, but Perseus unveiled the Gorgon's face, and Phineus and all his people were frozen into stone.

Then, in the still silence, Perseus bare away Andromeda from her father's home, and when they had wandered through many lands they came at length to Seriphos. Once more Danae looked on the face of her son, and said, "My child, the months have rolled wearily since I bade thee farewell; but sure I am that my prayer has been heard, for thy face is as the face of one who comes back a conqueror from battle." Then Perseus said, "Yes, my mother, the help of Zeus has never failed me. When the eastern breeze carried me hence to the Argive land, my heart was full of sorrow, because I saw the city which thou didst yearn to see, and the home which thou couldst not enter, and I vowed a vow to bring thee back in triumph when I came to claim my birthright.

That evening, as I slept, the lady Athene came to me from the home of Zeus, and gave me a mirror so that I might take the Gorgon's head without looking on the face which turns everything into stone, and yet another night, Hermes stood before me, and gave me the sword whose stroke never fails, and the Graiai told me where I should find the nymphs who gave me the helmet of Hades, and the bag which has borne hither the Gorgon's head, and the golden sandals which have carried me like a dream over land and sea. O, my mother, I have done wondrous things by the aid of Zeus. By me the doom of Medusa has [579]been accomplished, and I think that the words which thou didst speak were true, for the image of the Gorgon's face, which I saw in Athene's mirror, was as the countenance of one whose beauty has been marred by a woeful agony, and whenever I have looked since on that image, it has seemed to me as though it wore the look of one who rested in death from a mighty pain. So, as the giant Atlas looked on that grief-stricken brow, he felt no more the weight of the heaven as it rested on him, and the gray hair which streamed from his head seemed to me, when I left him, like the snow which clothes the mountain-tops in winter. So, when from the happy gardens of the Hyperboreans I came to the rich Libyan plain, and had killed the monster who sought to slay Andromeda, the Gorgon's face turned Phineus and his people into stone, when they sought to slay me because I had won her love." Then Danae answered the questions of Perseus, and told him how Polydektes had vexed her with his evil words, and how Diktys alone had shielded her from his brother. And Perseus bade Danae be of good cheer, because the recompense of Polydektes was nigh at hand.

There was joy and feasting in Seriphos when the news was spread abroad that Perseus had brought back for the King the head of the Gorgon Medusa, and Polydektes made a great feast, and the wine sparkled in the goblets as the minstrels sang of the great deeds of the son of Danae. Then Perseus told him of all that Hermes and Athene had done for him. He showed them the helmet of Hades, and the golden sandals, and the unerring sword, and then he unveiled the face of Medusa before Polydektes and the men who had aided him against his mother, Danae. So Perseus looked upon them, as they sat at the rich banquet, stiff and cold as a stone, and he felt that his mighty work was ended. Then, at his prayer, came Hermes, the messenger of Zeus, and Perseus gave him back the helmet of Hades, and the sword which had slain the Gorgon, and the sandals [580]which had borne him through the air like a dream. And Hermes gave the helmet again to Hades, and the sandals to the Ocean nymphs, but Athene took the Gorgon's head, and it was placed upon her shield.

Then Perseus spake to Danae, and said, "My mother, it is time for thee to go home. The Gorgon's face has turned Polydektes and his people into stone, and Diktys rules in Seriphos." So once more the white sails were filled with the eastern breeze, and Danae saw once more the Argive land. From city to city spread the tidings that Perseus was come, who had slain the Gorgon, and the youths and maidens sang "Io Paian," as they led the conqueror to the halls of Akrisios.

---

AKRISIOS.

The shouts of "Io Paian" reached the ear of Akrisios, as he sat in his lonely hall, marveling at the strange things which must have happened to waken the sounds of joy and triumph; for, since the day when Danae was cast forth with her babe on the raging waters, the glory of war had departed from Argos, and it seemed as though all the chieftains had lost their ancient strength and courage. But the wonder of Akrisios was changed to a great fear when they told him that his child, Danae, was coming home, and that the hero, Perseus, had rescued her from Polydektes, the King of Seriphos. The memory of all the wrong which he had done to his daughter tormented him, and still in his mind dwelt the words of warning which came from Phœbus Apollo that he should one day be slain by the hands of her son; so that, as he looked forth on the sky, it seemed to him as though he should see the sun again no more.

In haste and terror Akrisios fled from his home. He tarried [581]not to hear the voice of Danae, he stayed not to look on the face of Perseus, nor to see that the hero who had slain the Gorgon bore him no malice for the wrongs of the former days. Quickly he sped over hill and dale, across river and forest, till he came to the house of Teutamidas, the great chieftain who ruled in Larissa.

The feast was spread in the banquet-hall, and the Thessalian minstrels sang of the brave deeds of Perseus, for even thither had his fame reached already. They told how from the land of toiling men he had passed to the country of the Graiai and the Gorgons, how he had slain the mortal Medusa and stiffened the giant Atlas into stone, and then they sang how, with the sword of Hermes, he smote the mighty beast which ravaged the Libyan land, and won Andromeda to be his bride. Then Teutamidas spake, and said, "My friend, I envy thee for thy happy lot, for not often in the world of men may fathers reap such glory from their children as thou hast won from Perseus. In the ages to come men shall love to tell of his great and good deeds, and from him shall spring mighty chieftains, who shall be stirred up to a purer courage when they remember how Perseus toiled and triumphed before them. And now tell me, friend, wherefore thou hast come hither. Thy cheek is pale, and thy hand trembles, but I think not that it can be from the weight of years, for thy old age is yet but green, and thou mayest hope still to see the children of Perseus clustering around thy knees."

But Akrisios could scarcely answer for shame and fear; for he cared not to tell Teutamidas of the wrongs which he had done to Danae. So he said, hastily, that he had fled from a great danger, for the warning of Phœbus was that he should be slain by his daughter's son. And Teutamidas said, "Has thy daughter yet another son?" And then Akrisios was forced to own that he had fled from the hero, Perseus. But the face of Teutamidas flushed with anger as he said, "O shame, that thou [582]shouldst flee from him who ought to be thy glory and thy pride! Everywhere men speak of the goodness and the truth of Perseus, and I will not believe that he bears thee a grudge for anything that thou hast done to him. Nay, thou doest to him a more grievous wrong in shunning him now than when thou didst cast him forth in his mother's arms upon the angry sea." So he pleaded with Akrisios for Perseus, until he spoke the word that Danae and her child might come to the great games which were to be held on the plain before Larissa.

With shouts of "Io Paian" the youths and maidens went out before Perseus as he passed from the city of Akrisios to go to Larissa, and everywhere as he journeyed the people came forth from town and village to greet the bright hero and the beautiful Andromeda, whom he had saved from the Libyan dragon. Onwards they went, spreading gladness everywhere, till the cold heart of Akrisios himself was touched with a feeling of strange joy, as he saw the band of youths and maidens who came before them to the house of Teutamidas. So once more his child Danae stood before him, beautiful still, although the sorrows of twenty years had dimmed the brightness of her eye, and the merry laugh of her youth was gone. Once more he looked on the face of Perseus, and he listened to the kindly greeting of the hero whom he had wronged in the days of his helpless childhood. But he marveled yet more at the beauty of Andromeda, and he thought within himself that throughout the wide earth were none so fair as Perseus and the wife whom he had won with the sword of Hermes.

Then, as they looked on the chiefs who strove together in the games, the shouting of the crowd told at the end of each that Perseus was the conqueror. At last they stood forth to see which should have most strength of arm in hurling the quoit; and, when Perseus aimed at the mark, the quoit swerved aside and smote Akrisios on the head, and the warning of Phœbus Apollo was accomplished.

[583]Great was the sorrow of Teutamidas and his people as the chieftain of Argos lay dead before them; but deeper still and more bitter was the grief of Perseus for the deed which he had unwittingly done, and he said, "O Zeus, I have striven to keep my hands clean and to deal truly, and a hard recompense hast thou given me."

So they went back mourning to Argos, but although he strove heartily to rule his people well, the grief of Perseus could not be lessened while he remained in the house of Akrisios. So he sent a messenger to his kinsman, Megapenthes, who ruled at Tiryns, and said, "Come thou and rule in Argos, and I will go and dwell among thy people." So Perseus dwelt at Tiryns, and the men of the city rejoiced that he had come to rule over them. Thus the months and years went quickly by, as Perseus strove with all his might to make his people happy and to guard them against their enemies. At his bidding, the Cyclopes came from the far-off Lykian land, and built the mighty walls which gird the city round about; and they helped him to build yet another city, which grew in after-times to be even greater and mightier than Tiryns. So rose the walls of Mykenæ, and there, too, the people loved and honored Perseus for his just dealing more than for all the deeds which he had done with the sword of Hermes. At last the time came when the hero must rest from his long toil, but as they looked on his face, bright and beautiful even in death, the minstrels said, "We shall hear his voice no more, but the name of Perseus shall never die."

---

KEPHALOS AND PROKRIS.

Of all the maidens in the land of Attica none was so beautiful as Prokris, the daughter of King Erechtheus. She was the delight of her father's heart, not so much for her beauty as for [584]her goodness and her gentleness. The sight of her fair face and the sound of her happy voice brought gladness to all who saw and heard her. Every one stopped to listen to the songs which she sang as she sat working busily at the loom, and the maidens who dwelt with her were glad when the hour came to go with Prokris and wash their clothes or draw water from the fountain. Then, when all her tasks were ended, she would roam over hill and valley, into every nook and dell. There was no spot in all the land where Prokris had not been. She lay down to rest in the top of the highest hills, or by the side of the stream where it murmured among the rocks far down in the woody glen. So passed her days away; and while all loved her and rejoiced to see her face, only Prokris knew not of her own beauty, and thought not of her own goodness. But they amongst whom she lived, the old and the young, the sorrowful and happy, all said that Prokris, the child of Herse, was always as fair and bright as the dew of early morning.

Once in her many wanderings she had climbed the heights of Mount Hymettos, almost before the first streak of dawn was seen in the sky. Far away, as she looked over the blue sea, her eyes rested on the glittering cliffs of Eubœa, and she looked and saw that a ship was sailing towards the shore beneath the hill of Hymettos. Presently it reached the shore, and she could see that a man stepped out of the ship, and began to climb the hill, while the rest remained on the beach. As he came nearer to her, Prokris knew that his face was very fair, and she thought that she had never seen such beauty in mortal man before. She had heard that sometimes the gods come down from their home on Olympos to mingle among the children of men, and that sometimes [585]the bright heroes were seen in the places where they had lived on the earth before they were taken to dwell in the halls of Zeus. As the stranger came near to her the sun rose brightly and without a cloud from the dark sea, and its light fell on his face, and made it gleam with more than mortal beauty. Gently he came towards her, and said, "Lady, I am come from the far-off eastern land, and as I drew near to this shore I saw that some one was resting here upon the hill. So I hastened to leave the ship that I might learn the name of the country which I have reached. My name is Kephalos, and my father, Helios, lives in a beautiful home beyond the sea, but I am traveling over the earth, till I shall have gone over every land and seen all the cities which men have built. Tell me now thy name, and the name of this fair land." Then she said, "Stranger, my name is Prokris, and I am the daughter of King Erechtheus, who dwells at Athens yonder, where thou seest the bright line of Kephisos flowing gently into the sea." So Prokris guided the stranger to her father's house, and Erechtheus received him kindly, and spread a banquet before him. But as they feasted and drank the dark red wine, he thought almost that Kephalos must be one of the bright heroes come back to his own land, so fair and beautiful was he to look upon, and that none save only his own child, Prokris, might be compared to him for beauty.

Long time Kephalos abode in the house of Erechtheus, and, each day, he loved more and more the bright and happy Prokris; and Prokris became brighter and happier, as the eye of Kephalos rested gently and lovingly upon her. At last Kephalos told her of his love, and Erechtheus gave him his child to be his wife, and there were none in all the land who dwelt together in a love so deep and pure as that of Kephalos and Prokris.

But among the maidens of that land there was one who was named Eos. She, too, was fair and beautiful, but she had not the gentle spirit and the guileless heart of Prokris. [586]Whenever Kephalos wandered forth with his young wife, then Eos would seek to follow them stealthily, or, if she met them by chance, she would suffer her eyes to rest long on the fair face of Kephalos, till she began to envy the happiness of Prokris. And so one day, when there was a feast of the people of the land, and the maidens danced on the soft grass around the fountain, Kephalos and Eos talked together, and Eos suffered herself to be carried away by her evil love. From that day she sought more and more to talk with Kephalos, till at last she bowed her head before him and told him softly of her love. But Kephalos said to her, gently, "Maiden, thou art fair to look upon, and there are others who may love thee well, and thou deservest the love of any. But I may not leave Prokris, whom Erechtheus has given to me to be my wife. Forgive me, maiden, if Prokris appear to me even fairer than thou art; but I prize her gentleness more than her beauty, and Prokris, with her pure love and guileless heart, shall be always dearer to me than any other in all the wide earth." Then Eos answered him craftily, "O Kephalos, thou hast suffered thyself to be deceived. Prokris loves thee not as I do; prove her love and thou shalt see that I have spoken truly."

Thus Eos spoke to him for many days, and the great happiness of his life was marred, for the words of Eos would come back to his mind, as he looked on the happy and guileless Prokris. He had begun to doubt whether she were in very deed so pure and good as she seemed to be, and at last he said to Eos that he would prove her love. Then Eos told him how to do so, and said that if he came before his wife as a stranger and brought to her rich gifts, as from a distant land, she would forget her love for Kephalos.

With a heavy heart he went away, for he foreboded evil days from the subtle words of Eos, and he departed and dwelt in another land. So the time passed on, until many weeks and [587]months had gone by, and Prokris mourned and wept in the house of Erechtheus, until the brightness of her eye was dimmed and her voice had lost its gladness. Day after day she sought throughout all the land for Kephalos, day after day she went up the hill of Hymettos, and as she looked towards the sea, she said, "Surely he will come back again; ah, Kephalos, thou knowest not the love which thou hast forsaken." Thus she pined away in her sorrow, although to all who were around her she was as gentle and as loving as ever. Her father was now old and weak, and he knew that he must soon die, but it grieved him most of all that he must leave his child in a grief more bitter than if Kephalos had remained to comfort her. So Erechtheus died, and the people honored him as one of the heroes of the land, but Prokris remained in his house desolate, and all who saw her pitied her for her true love and her deep sorrow. At last she felt that Kephalos would return no more, and that she could no more be happy until she went to her father in the bright home of the heroes and the gods.

Then a look of peace and loving patience came over her fair face, and she roamed with a strange gladness through every place where Kephalos had wandered with her; and so it came to pass that one day Prokris sat resting in the early morning on the eastern slopes of Mount Hymettos, when suddenly she beheld a man coming near to her. The dress was strange, but she half thought she knew his tall form and the light step as he came up the hill. Presently he came close to her, and she felt as if she were in a strange dream. The sight of his face and the glance of his eye carried her back to the days that were past, and she started up and ran towards him, saying, "O Kephalos, thou art come back at last; how couldst thou forsake me so long?" But the stranger answered, in a low and gentle voice (for he saw that she was in great sorrow), "Lady, thou art deceived. I am a stranger come from a far country, and I seek to know the [588]name of this land." Then Prokris sat down again on the grass, and clasped her hands, and said, slowly, "It is changed and I can not tell how; yet surely it is the voice of Kephalos." Then she turned to the stranger, and said, "O stranger, I am mourning for Kephalos, whom I have loved and lost; he, too, came from a far land across the sea. Dost thou know him, and canst thou tell me where I may find him?" And the stranger answered, "I know him, lady; he is again in his own home, far away, whither thou canst not go; yet think not of him, for he has forgotten his love." Then the stranger spoke to her in gentle and soothing words, until her grief became less bitter. Long time he abode in the land, and it pleased Prokris to hear his voice while his eye rested kindly on her, until she almost fancied that she was with Kephalos once more. And she thought to herself, "What must that land be, from which there can come two who are beautiful as the bright heroes?"

So at last, when with soft and gentle words he had soothed her sorrow, the stranger spoke to her of his love, and Prokris felt that she, too, could love him, for had not Kephalos despised her love and forsaken her long ago? So he said, "Canst thou love me, Prokris, instead of Kephalos?" and when she gently answered "Yes," then a change came over the face of the stranger, and she saw that it was Kephalos himself who clasped her in his arms. With a wild cry she broke from him, and as bitter tears ran down her cheek, she said, "O Kephalos, Kephalos, why hast thou done thus? all my love was thine, and thou hast drawn me into evil deeds." Then, without tarrying for his answer, with all her strength she fled away, and she hastened to the sea shore and bade them make ready a ship to take her from her father's land. Sorrowfully they did as she besought them, and they took her to the Island of Crete, far away in the eastern sea.

When Prokris was gone, the maiden Eos came and stood [589]before Kephalos, and she said to him, "My words are true, and now must thou keep the vow by which thou didst swear to love me, if Prokris should yield herself to a stranger." So Kephalos dwelt with Eos, but for all her fond words he could not love her as still he loved Prokris.

Meanwhile Prokris wandered, in deep and bitter sorrow, among the hills and valleys of Crete. She cared not to look on the fair morning as it broke on the pale path of night; she cared not to watch the bright sun as he rose from the dark sea, or when he sank to rest behind the western waters. For the earth had lost all its gladness, and she felt that she could die. But one day as she sat on a hill-side and looked on the broad plains which lay stretched beneath, suddenly a woman stood before her, brighter and more glorious than the daughters of men, and Prokris knew, from the spear which she held in her hand and the hound which crouched before her, that it was Artemis, the mighty child of Zeus and Leto. Then Prokris fell at her feet, and said, "O lady Artemis, pity me in my great sorrow;" and Artemis answered, "Fear not, Prokris, I know thy grief. Kephalos hath done thee a great wrong, but he shall fall by the same device wherewith he requited thy pure and trusting love." Then she gave to Prokris her hound and her spear, and said, "Hasten now to thine own land, and go stand before Kephalos, and I will put a spell upon him that he may not know thee. Follow him in the chase, and at whatsoever thou mayest cast this spear, it shall fall, and from this hound no prey which thou mayest seek for shall ever escape."

So Prokris sailed back to the land of Erechtheus with the gifts of Artemis. And when Kephalos went to the chase, Prokris followed him, and all the glory of the hunt fell to her portion, for the hound struck down whatever it seized, and her spear never missed its aim. And Kephalos marveled greatly, and said to the maiden, "Give me thy hound and thy spear," [590]and he besought the stranger many times for the gift, till at last Prokris said, "I will not give them but for thy love, thou must forsake Eos and come to dwell with me." Then Kephalos said, "I care not for Eos; so only I have thy gifts, thou shalt have my love." But even as he spoke these words, a change came over the face of the stranger, and he saw that it was Prokris herself who stood before him. And Prokris said, "Ah, Kephalos, once more thou hast promised to love me, and now may I keep thy love, and remain with thee always. Almost I may say that I never loved any one but thee, but thou art changed, Kephalos, although still the same, else wouldst thou not have promised to love me for the gift of a hound and a spear." Then Kephalos besought Prokris to forgive him, and he said, "I am caught in the trap which I laid for thee, but I have fallen deeper. When thou gavest thy love to me as to a stranger, it pleased thee yet to think that I was like Kephalos, and my vow to thee has been given for the mere gifts which I coveted." But Prokris only said, "My joy is come back to me again, and now I will leave thee no more."

So once more in the land of Erechtheus Prokris and Kephalos dwelt together in a true and deep love. Once more they wandered over hill and dale as in the times that were past, and looked out from the heights of Hymettos to the white shore of Eubœa, as it glistened in the light of early day. But whenever he went to the chase with the hound and the spear of Artemis, Prokris saw that Eos still watched if haply she might talk with Kephalos alone, and win him again for herself. Once more she was happy, but her happiness was not what it had been when Kephalos first gave her his love, while her father, Erechtheus, was yet alive. She knew that Eos still envied her, and she sought to guard Kephalos from the danger of her treacherous look and her enticing words. She kept ever near him in the chase, although he saw her not, and thus it came to pass that one [591]day, as Prokris watched him from a thicket, the folds of her dress rustled against the branches, so that Kephalos thought it was some beast moving from his den, and hurled at her the spear of Artemis that never missed its mark. Then he heard the cry [592]as of one who has received a deadly blow, and when he hastened into the thicket, Prokris lay smitten down to the earth before him. The coldness of death was on her face, and her bright eye was dim, but her voice was as loving as ever, while she said, "O Kephalos, it grieves me not that thy arm hath struck me down. I have thy love, and having it, I go to the land of the bright heroes, where my father, Erechtheus, is waiting for his child, and where thou, too, shalt one day meet me, to dwell with me forever." One loving look she gave to Kephalos, and the smile of parting vanished in the stillness of death.

Then over the body of Prokris Kephalos wept tears of bitter sorrow, and he said, "Ah, Eos, Eos, well hast thou rewarded me for doubting once a love such as thou couldst never feel." Many days and many weeks he mourned for his lost love, and daily he sat on the slopes of Hymettos, and thought with a calm and almost happy grief how Prokris there had rested by his side. All this time the spear of Artemis was idle, and the hound went not forth to the chase, until chieftains came from other lands to ask his aid against savage beasts or men. Among them came Amphitryon, the lord of Thebes, to ask for help, and Kephalos said, "I will do as thou wouldst have me. It is time that I should begin to journey to the bright land where Prokris dwells, beyond the western sea."

So he went with Amphitryon into the Theban land, and hunted out the savage beasts which wasted his harvests, and then he journeyed on till he came to the home of Phœbus Apollo, at Delphi. There the god bade him hasten to the western sea, where he should once again find Prokris. Onward he went, across the heights and vales of Ætolia, until he stood on the Leukadian cape and looked out on the blue water. The sun was sinking low down in the sky, and the golden clouds of evening were gathered round him as he hastened to his rest. And Kephalos said, "Here must I rest, also, for my journey is done, [593]and Prokris is waiting for me in the brighter land." There on the white cliff he stood, and just as the sun touched the waters, the strength of Kephalos failed him, and he sank gently into the sea.

So again, in the homes of the bright heroes, Kephalos found the wife whom he had loved and slain.

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SKYLLA.

From the turret of her father's house, Skylla, the daughter of Nisos, watched the ships of King Minos, as they drew near from the Island of Crete. Their white sails and the spears of the Cretan warriors sparkled in the sunshine, as the crested waves rose and fell, carrying the long billows to the shore. As she watched the goodly sight, Skylla thought sadly of the days that were gone, when her father had sojourned as a guest in the halls of King Minos, and she had looked on his face as on the face of a friend. But now there was strife between the chieftains of Crete and Megara, for Androgeos, the son of Minos, had been slain by evil men as he journeyed from Megara to Athens, and Minos was come hither with his warriors to demand the price of his blood. But when the herald came with the message of Minos, the face of Nisos, the King, flushed with anger, as he said, "Go thy way to him that sent thee, and tell him that he who is guarded by the undying gods cares not for the wrath of men whose spears shall be snapped like bulrushes." Then said the herald, "I can not read thy riddle, chieftain of Megara, but the blood of the gods runs in the veins of Minos, and it can not be that the son of Europa shall fall under the hands of thee or of thy people."

The sun went down in a flood of golden glory behind the [594]purple heights of Geraneia, and as the mists of evening fell upon the land, the warriors of Minos made ready for the onset on the morrow. But when the light of Eos flushed the eastern sky, and the men of Crete went forth to the battle, their strength and their brave deeds availed them nothing, for the arms of the mightiest became weak as the hands of a little child, because the secret spell, in which lay the strength of the undying gods, guarded the city of Nisos. And so it came to pass that, as day by day they fought in vain against the walls of Megara, the spirit of the men of Crete waxed feeble, and many said that they came not thither to fight against the deathless gods.

But each day as Minos led his men against the city, the daughter of Nisos had looked forth from her turret, and she saw his face, beautiful as in the days when she had sojourned in his house at Gnossos, and flushed with the pride and eagerness of the war. Then the heart of Skylla was filled with a strange love, and she spake musingly within herself, "To what end is this strife of armed men? Love is beyond all treasures, and brighter for me than the love of others would be one kindly look from the bright son of Europa. I know the spell which keeps the city of the Megarians, and where is the evil of the deed, if I take the purple lock of hair which the gods have given to my father as a pledge that so long as it remains untouched, no harm shall befall his people? If I give it to Minos the struggle is ended, and it may be that I shall win his love."

So when the darkness of night fell again upon the earth, and all the sons of men were buried in a deep sleep, Skylla entered stealthily into her father's chamber, and shore off the purple lock in which lay his strength and the strength of his people. Then, as the tints of early morning stole across the dark heavens, the watchmen of the Cretans beheld the form of a woman as she drew nigh to them and bade them lead her to the tent of King Minos. When she was brought before him, with [595]downcast face she bowed herself to the earth, and said, "I have sojourned in thy halls in the days that are gone, when there was peace between thee and the house of my father, Nisos. O Minos, peace is better than war, and of all treasures the most precious is love. Look on me, then, gently as in former days, for at a great price do I seek thy kindness. In this purple lock is the strength of my father and his people." Then a strange smile passed over the face of Minos, as he said, "The gifts of fair maidens must not be lightly cast aside; the requital shall be made when the turmoil of strife is ended."

With a mighty shout the Cretan warriors went forth to the onset as the fiery horses of Helios rose up with his chariot into the kindled heaven. Straightway the walls of Megara fell, and the men of Crete burst into the house of Nisos. So the city was taken, and Minos made ready to go against the men of Athens, for on them also he sought to take vengeance for the death of his son, Androgeos. But even as he hastened to his ship, Skylla stood before him on the sea-shore. "Thy victory is from me," she said, "where is the requital of my gift?" Then Minos answered, "She who cares not for the father that has cherished her has her own reward, and the gift which thou didst bring me is beyond human recompense." The light southern breeze swelled the outspread sail, and the ship of Minos danced gaily over the rippling waters. For a moment the daughter of Nisos stood musing on the shore. Then she stretched forth her arms, as with a low cry of bitter anguish she said, "O Love, thy sting is cruel, and my life dies poisoned by the smile of Aphrodite!" So the waters closed over the daughter of Nisos, as she plunged in the blue depths; but the strife which vexes the sons of men follows her still, when the eagle swoops down from the clouds for his prey in the salt sea.

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[596]PHRIXOS AND HELLE.

Many, many years ago, there was a man called Athamas, and he had a wife whose name was Nephele. They had two children—a boy and a girl. The name of the boy was Phrixos, and his sister was called Helle. They were good and happy children, and played about merrily in the fields, and their mother, Nephele, loved them dearly. But by and by their mother was taken away from them, and their father, Athamas, forgot all about her, for he had not loved her as he ought to do. And very soon he married another wife whose name was Ino, but she was harsh and unkind to Phrixos and Helle, and they began to be very unhappy. Their cheeks were no more rosy, and their faces no longer looked bright and cheerful, as they used to do when they could go home to their mother, Nephele, and so they played less and less, until none would have thought that they were the same children who were so happy before Nephele was taken away. But Ino hated these poor children, for she was a cruel woman, and she longed to get rid of Phrixos and Helle, and she thought how she might do so. So she said that Phrixos spoiled all the corn, and prevented it from growing, and that they would not be able to make any bread till he was killed. At last she persuaded Athamas that he ought to kill Phrixos. But although Athamas cared nothing about Phrixos and Helle, still their mother, Nephele, saw what was going on, although they could not see her, because there was a cloud between them; and Nephele was determined that Athamas should not hurt Phrixos. So she sent a ram which had a golden fleece to carry her children away, and one day, when they were sitting down on the grass (for they were too sad and unhappy to play), they saw a beautiful ram come into the field. And Phrixos said to Helle, "Sister, look at this sheep that is coming to us; see, he shines all [597]over like gold—his horns are made of gold, and all the hair on his body is golden, too." So the ram came nearer and nearer, and at last he lay down quite close to them, and looked so quiet that Phrixos and Helle were not at all afraid of him. Then they played with the sheep, and they took him by the horns, and stroked his golden fleece, and patted him on the head, and the ram looked so pleased that they thought they would like to have a ride on his back. So Phrixos got up first, and put his arms round the ram's neck, and little Helle got up behind her brother and put her arms round his waist, and then they called to the ram to stand up and carry them about. And the ram knew what they wanted, and began to walk first, and then to run. By and by it rose up from the ground and began to fly. And when it first left the earth, Phrixos and Helle became frightened, and they begged the ram to go down again and put them upon the ground, but the ram turned his head round, and looked so gently at them, that they were not afraid any more. So Phrixos told Helle to hold on tight round his waist, and he said, "Dear Helle, do not be afraid, for I do not think the ram means to do us any harm, and I almost fancy that he must have been sent by our dear mother, Nephele, and that he will carry us to some better country, where the people will be kind to us, as our mother used to be."

Now it so happened that, just as the ram began to fly away with the two children on its back, Ino and Athamas came into the field, thinking how they might kill Phrixos, but they could not see him anywhere; and when they looked up, then, high up in the air over their heads, they saw the ram flying away with the children on its back. So they cried out and made a great noise, and threw stones up into the air, thinking that the ram would get frightened and come down to the earth again; but the ram did not care how much noise they made or how many stones they threw up. On and on he flew, higher and higher, [598]till at last he looked only like a little yellow speck in the blue sky; and then Ino and Athamas saw him no more.

So these wicked people sat down, very angry and unhappy. They were sorry because Phrixos and Helle had got away all safe, when they wanted to kill them. But they were much more sorry because they had gone away on the back of a ram whose fleece was made of gold. So Ino said to Athamas, "What a pity that we did not come into the field a little sooner, for then we might have caught this ram and killed him and stripped off his golden fleece, and we should have been rich for the rest of our days."

All this time the ram was flying on and on, higher and higher, with Phrixos and Helle on his back. And Helle began to be very tired, and she said to her brother that she could not hold on much longer, and Phrixos said, "Dear Helle, try and hold on as long as you possibly can; I dare say the ram will soon reach the place to which he wants to carry us, and then you shall lie down on the soft grass, and have such pleasant sleep that you will not feel tired any more." But Helle said, "Dearest Phrixos, I will indeed try and hold fast as long as I can, but my arms are becoming so weak that I am afraid that I shall not be able to hold on long." And by and by, when she grew weaker, she said, "Dear Phrixos, if I fall off, you will not see Helle any more, but you must not forget her, you must always love her as she loved you, and then some day or other we shall see each other again, and live with our dear mother, Nephele." Then Phrixos said, "Try and hold fast a little longer still, Helle. I can never love any one so much as I love you; but I want you to live with me on earth, and I can not bear to think of living without you."

But it was of no use that he talked so kindly and tried to encourage his sister, because he was not able to make her arms and her body stronger; so by and by poor Helle fell off, just as [599]they were flying over a narrow part of the sea, and she fell into it and was drowned. And the people called the part of the sea where she fell in, the Hellespont, which means the sea of little Helle.

So Phrixos was left alone on the ram's back; and the ram flew on and on a long way, till it came to the palace of Aietes, the King of Kolchis. And King Aietes was walking about in his garden, when he looked up into the sky, and saw something which looked very like a yellow sheep with a little boy on its back. And King Aietes was greatly amazed, for he had never seen so strange a thing before, and he called his wife and his children, and everyone else that was in his house, to come and see this wonderful sight. And they looked, and saw the ram coming nearer and nearer, and then they knew that it really was a boy on its back; and by and by the ram came down upon the earth near their feet, and Phrixos got off its back. Then King Aietes went up to him, and took him by the hand, and asked him who he was, and he said, "Tell me, little boy, how it is that you come here, riding in this strange way on the back of a ram." Then Phrixos told him the ram had come into the field where he and Helle were playing, and had carried them away from Ino and Athamas, who were very unkind to them, and how little Helle had grown tired, and fallen off his back, and had been drowned in the sea. Then King Aietes took Phrixos up in his arms, and said, "Do not be afraid; I will take care of you and give you all that you want, and no one shall hurt you here; and the ram which has carried you through the air shall stay in this beautiful place, where he will have as much grass to eat as he can possibly want, and a stream to drink out of and to bathe in whenever he likes."

So Phrixos was taken into the palace of King Aietes, and everybody loved him, because he was good and kind, and never hurt anyone. And he grew up healthy and strong, and he [600]learned to ride about the country and to leap and run over the hills and valleys, and swim about in the clear rivers. He had not forgotten his sister Helle, for he loved her still as much as ever, and very often he wished that she could come and live with him again, but he knew that she was with his mother, Nephele, in the happy land to which good people go after they are dead. And therefore he was never unhappy when he thought of his sister, for he said, "One day I, too, shall be taken to that bright land, and live with my mother and my sister again, if I try always to do what is right." And very often he used to go and see the beautiful ram with the golden fleece feeding in the garden, and stroke its golden locks.

But the ram was not so strong now as he was when he flew through the air with Phrixos and Helle on his hack, for he was growing old and weak, and at last the ram died, and Phrixos was very sorry. And King Aietes had the golden fleece taken off from the body, and they nailed it up upon the wall, and every one came to look at the fleece which was made of gold, and to hear the story of Phrixos and Helle.

But all this while Athamas and Ino had been hunting about everywhere, to see if they could find out where the ram had gone with the children on his back; and they asked every one whom they met, if they had seen a sheep with a fleece of gold carrying away two children. But no one could tell anything about it, till at last they came to the house of Aietes, the King of Kolchis. And they came to the door, and asked Aietes if he had seen Phrixos and Helle, and the sheep with the golden fleece. Then Aietes said to them, "I have never seen little Helle, for she fell off from the ram's back, and was drowned in the sea, but Phrixos is with me still, and as for the ram, see here is his golden fleece nailed up upon the wall." And just then Phrixos happened to come in, and Aietes asked them, "Look, now, and tell me if this is the Phrixos whom you are seeking." [601]And when they saw him, they said, "It is indeed the same Phrixos who went away on the ram's back, but he is grown into a great man;" and they began to be afraid, because they thought they could not now ill-treat Phrixos, as they used to do when he was a little boy. So they tried to entice him away by pretending to be glad to see him, and they said, "Come away with us, and we shall live happily together." But Phrixos saw from the look of their faces that they were not telling the truth, and that they hated him still, and he said to them, "I will not go with you; King Aietes has been very good to me, and you were always unkind to me and to my sister, and therefore I will never leave King Aietes to go away with you." Then they said to Aietes, "Phrixos may stay here, but give us the golden fleece which came from the ram that carried away the children." But the King said, "I will not—I know that you only ask for it because you wish to sell it, and therefore you shall not have it."

Then Ino and Athamas turned away in a rage, and went to their own country again, wretched and unhappy because they could not get the golden fleece. And they told every one that the fleece of the ram was in the palace of the King of Kolchis, and they tried to persuade every one to go in a great ship and take away the fleece by force. So a great many people came, and they all got into a large ship called the Argo, and they sailed and sailed, until at last they came to Kolchis. Then they sent some one to ask Aietes to give them the golden fleece, but he would not, and they would never have found the fleece again, if the wise maiden, Medeia, had not shown Iason how he might outdo the bidding of King Aietes. But when Iason had won the prize and they had sailed back again to their own land, the fleece was not given to Athamas and Ino. The other people took it, for they said, "It is quite right that we should have it, to make up for all our trouble in helping to get it." So, with all their greediness, these wretched people remained as poor and as miserable as ever.

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[602]MEDEIA.

Far away in the Kolchian land, where her father, Aietes, was King, the wise maiden, Medeia, saw and loved Iason, who had come in the ship, Argo, to search for the golden fleece. To her Zeus had given a wise and cunning heart, and she had power over the hidden things of the earth, and nothing in the broad sea could withstand her might. She had spells to tame the monsters which vex the children of men, and to bring back youth to the wrinkled face and the tottering limbs of the old. But the spells of Eros were mightier still, and the wise maiden forgot her cunning as she looked on the fair countenance of Iason, and she said within herself that she would make him conqueror in his struggle for the golden fleece, and go with him to be his wife in the far-off western land. So King Aietes brought up in vain the fire-breathing bulls that they might scorch Iason as he plowed the land with the dragon's teeth, and in vain from these teeth sprang up the harvest of armed men ready for strife and bloodshed. For Medeia had anointed the body of Iason with ointment, so that the fiery breath of the bulls hurt him not; and by her bidding he cast a stone among the armed men, and they fought with one another for the stone till all lay dead upon the ground. Still King Aietes would not give to him the golden fleece, and the heart of Iason was cast down till Medeia came to him and bade him follow her. Then she led him to a hidden dell where the dragon guarded the fleece, and she laid her spells on the monster and brought a heavy sleep upon his eye, while Iason took the fleece and hastened to carry it on board the ship Argo.

So Medeia left her father's house, and wandered with Iason into many lands—to Iolkos, to Athens, and to Argos. And [603]wherever she went, men marveled at her for her wisdom and her beauty, but as they looked on her fair face and listened to her gentle voice, they knew not the power of the maiden's wrath if any one should do her wrong. So she dwelt at Iolkos, in the house of Pelias, who had sent forth Iason to look for the golden fleece, that he might not be King in his stead, and the daughters of Pelias loved the beautiful Medeia, for they dreamed not that she had sworn to avenge on Pelias the wrong which he had done to Iason. Craftily she told the daughters of Pelias of the power of her spells, which could tame the fire-breathing bulls, and lull the dragon to sleep, and bring back the brightness of youth to the withered cheeks of the old. And the daughters of Pelias said to her, "Our father is old, and his limbs are weak and tottering, show us how once more he can be made young." Then Medeia took a ram and cut it up, and put its limbs into a caldron, and when she had boiled them on the hearth there came forth a lamb, and she said, "So shall your father be brought back again to youth and strength, if ye will do to him as I have done to the ram, and when the time is come, I will speak the words of my spell, and the change shall be accomplished." So the daughters of Pelias followed her counsel, and put the body of their father into the caldron, and, as it boiled on the hearth, Medeia said, "I must go up to the house-top and look forth on the broad heaven, that I may know the time to speak the words of my charm." And the fire waxed fiercer and fiercer, but Medeia gazed on at the bright stars, and came not down from the house-top till the limbs of Pelias were consumed away.

Then a look of fierce hatred passed over her face, and she [604]said, "Daughters of Pelias, ye have slain your father, and I go with Iason to the land of Argos." So thither she sped with him in her dragon chariot, which bore them to the house of King Kreon.

Long time she abode in Argos, rejoicing in the love of Iason and at the sight of her children, who were growing up in strength and beauty. But Iason cared less and less for the wise and cunning Medeia, and he loved more to look on Glauke, the daughter of the King, till at last he longed to be free from the love and the power of Medeia.

Then men talked in Argos of the love of Iason for the beautiful Glauke, and Medeia heard how he was going to wed another wife. Once more her face grew dark with anger, as when she left the daughters of Pelias mourning for their father, and she vowed a vow that Iason should repent of his great treachery. But she hid her anger within her heart, and her eye was bright and her voice was soft and gentle as she spake to Iason and said, "They tell me that thou art to wed the daughter of Kreon; I had not thought thus to lose the love for which I left my father's house and came with thee to the land of strangers. Yet do I chide thee not, for it may be that thou canst not love the wise Kolchian maid like the soft daughters of the Argive land, and yet thou knowest not altogether how I have loved thee. Go, then, and dwell with Glauke, and I will send her a bright gift, so that thou mayest not forget the days that are past."

So Iason went away, well pleased that Medeia had spoken to him gently and upbraided him not, and presently his children came after him to the house of Kreon, and said, "Father, we have brought a wreath for Glauke, and a robe which Helios gave to our mother, Medeia, before she came away with thee from the house of her father." Then Glauke came forth eagerly to take the gifts, and she placed the glittering wreath on her head, and [605]wrapped the robe round her slender form. Like a happy child, she looked into a mirror to watch the sparkling of the jewels on her fair forehead, and sat down on the couch playing with the folds of the robe of Helios. But soon a look of pain passed over her face, and her eyes shone with a fiery light as she lifted her hand to take the wreath away, but the will of Medeia was accomplished, for the poison had eaten into her veins, and the robe clung with a deadly grasp to her scorched and wasted limbs. Through the wide halls rang the screams of her agony, as Kreon clasped his child in his arms. Then sped the poison through his veins also, and Kreon died with Glauke.

Then Medeia went with her children to the house-top, and looked up to the blue heaven, and stretching forth her arms, she said, "O Helios, who didst give to me the wise and cunning heart, I have avenged me on Iason, even as once I avenged him on Pelias. Thou hast given me thy power; yet, it may be, I would rather have the life-long love of the helpless daughters of men."

Presently her dragon chariot rose into the sky, and the people of Argos saw the mighty Medeia no more.

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THESEUS.

Many a long year ago a little child was playing on the white sand of the Bay of Troizen. His golden locks streamed in the breeze as he ran amongst the rippling waves which flung themselves lazily on the beach. Sometimes he clapped his hands in glee as the water washed over his feet, and he stopped again to look with wondering eyes at the strange things which were basking on the sunny shore, or gazed on the mighty waters which stretched away bright as a sapphire stone into the far distance. [606]But presently some sadder thoughts troubled the child, for the look of gladness passed away from his face, and he went slowly to his mother, who sat among the weed-grown rocks, watching her child play.

"Mother," said the boy, "I am very happy here, but may I not know to-day why I never see my father as other children do? I am not now so very young, and I think that you feel sometimes lonely, for your face looks sad and sorrowful, as if you were grieving for some one who is gone away."

Fondly and proudly the mother looked on her boy, and smoothed the golden locks on his forehead, as she said, "My child, there is much to make us happy, and it may be that many days of gladness are in store for us both. But there is labor and toil for all, and many a hard task awaits thee, my son. Only have a brave heart, and turn away from all things mean and foul, and strength will be given thee to conquer the strongest enemy. Sit down, then, here by my side, and I will tell thee a tale which may make thee sad, but which must not make thee unhappy, for none can do good to others who waste their lives in weeping. Many summers have come and gone since the day when a stranger drew nigh to the house of my father, Pittheus. The pale light of evening was fading from the sky, but we could see, by his countenance and the strength of his stalwart form, that he was come of a noble race and could do brave deeds. When Pittheus went forth from the threshold to meet him, the stranger grasped his hand, and said, 'I come to claim the rights of our ancient friendship, for our enemies have grown too mighty for us, and Pandion, my father, rules no more in Athens. Here, then, let me tarry till I can find a way to punish the men who have driven away their King and made his children wanderers on the earth.' So Aigeus sojourned in my father's house, and soon he won my love, and I became his wife. Swiftly and happily the days went by, and one thing only troubled me, and [607]this was the thought that one day he must leave me, to fight with his enemies and place his father again upon his throne. But even this thought was forgotten for awhile, when Aigeus looked on thee for the first time, and, stretching forth his hands towards heaven, said, 'O Zeus, that dwellest in the dark cloud, look down on my child, and give him strength that he may be a better man than his father, and if thou orderest that his life shall be one of toil, still let him have the joy which is the lot of all [608]who do their work with a cheerful heart and keep their hands from all defiling things.' Then the days passed by more quickly and happily than ever, but at last there came the messengers from Athens, to tell him that the enemies of Pandion were at strife among themselves, and that the time was come that Aigeus should fight for his father's house. Not many days after this we sat here, watching thee at play among the weeds and flowers that climb among the rocks, when thy father put his arms gently round me, and said, 'Aithra, best gift of all that the gods have ever given to me, I leave thee to go to my own land, and I know not what things may befall me there, nor whether I may return hither to take thee to dwell with me at Athens. But forget not the days that are gone, and faint not for lack of hope that we may meet again in the days that are coming. Be a brave mother to our child, that so he, too, may grow up brave and pure, and when he is old enough to know what he must do, tell him that he is born of a noble race, and that he must one day fight stoutly to win the heritage of his fathers.' And now, my son, thou seest yonder rock, over which the wild briars have clambered. No hands have moved it since the day when thy father lifted it up and placed beneath it his sword and his sandals. Then he put back the stone as it was before, and said to me, 'When thou thinkest fit, tell our child that he must wait until he is able to lift this stone. Then must he put my sandals on his feet, and gird my sword on his side, and journey to the city of his forefathers.' From that day, my child, I have never seen thy father's face, and the time is often weary, although the memory of the old days is sweet and my child is by my side to cheer me with his love. So now thou knowest something of the task that lies before thee. Think of thy father's words, and make thyself ready for the toil and danger that may fall to thy lot in time to come."

The boy looked wistfully into his mother's face, and a [609]strange feeling of love and hope and strength filled his heart, as he saw the tears start to her eyes when the tale was ended. His arms were clasped around her neck, but he said only, "Mother, I will wait patiently till I am strong enough to lift the stone, but before that time comes, perhaps my father may come back from Athens."

So for many a year more the days went by, and the boy, Theseus, grew up brave, truthful, and strong. None who looked upon him grudged him his beauty, for his gentleness left no room for envy, and his mother listened with a proud and glad heart to the words with which the people of the land told of his kindly deeds. At length the days of his youth were ended, but Aigeus came not back, and Theseus went to Aithra, and said, "The time is come, my mother; I must see this day whether I am strong enough to lift the stone." And Aithra answered, gently, "Be it as thou wilt, and as the undying gods will it, my son." Then he went up to the rock, and nerved himself for a mighty effort, and the stone yielded slowly to his strength, and the sword and sandals lay before him. Presently he stood before Aithra, and to her it seemed that the face of Theseus was as the face of one of the bright heroes who dwell in the halls of Zeus. A flush of glorious beauty lit up his countenance, as she girt the sword to his side and said, "The gods prosper thee, my son, and they will prosper thee, if thou livest in time to come as thou hast lived in the days that are gone."

So Theseus bade his mother farewell, there on the white sea-shore, where long ago he had asked her first to tell him of his name and kindred. Sadly, yet with a good hope, he set out on his journey. The blue sea lay before him, and the white sails of ships glistened as they danced on the heaving waters. But Theseus had vowed a vow that he would do battle with the evil-doers who filled the land with blood, and for terror of whom the travelers walked in by-ways. So at Epidauros he fought with [610]the cruel Periphetes, and smote him with his own club, and at the Megarian isthmus he seized the robber, Sinis, and tore him to pieces between the trunks of pines, even as he had been wont to do with the wayfarers who fell into his hands. Then, in the thickets of Krommyon, he slew the huge sow that ravaged the fair corn-fields, and on the borderland he fought a sore fight with Skiron, who plundered all who came in his path, and, making them wash his feet, hurled them, as they stooped, down the cliffs which hung over the surging sea. Even so did Theseus to him, and journeying on to the banks of Kephisos, stretched the robber, Prokroustes, on the bed on which he had twisted and tortured the limbs of his victims till they died.

Thus, amid the joyous shoutings of the people whom he had set free, Theseus entered into the city of his fathers, and the rumor of him was brought to Aigeus, the King. Then the memory of the days that were gone came back to Aigeus, and his heart smote him as he thought within himself that this must be the child of Aithra, whom he had left mourning on the shore of Troizen. But soon there was a strife in the city, for among the mightiest of the people were many who mocked at Theseus, and said, "Who is this stranger that men should exalt him thus, as though he came of the race of heroes? Let him show that he is the child of Aigeus, if he would win the heritage which he claims." So was Theseus brought before the King, and a blush of shame passed over the old man's face when he saw the sword and sandals which he had left beneath the great stone, near the Troizenian shore. Few words only he spake of welcome, and none of love or kindness for his child or for the wife who still yearned for the love of the former days. Then, at his father's bidding, Theseus made ready to go forth once again on his path of toil, and he chafed not against the hard lot which had fallen to his portion. Only he said, "The love of a father would sweeten my labor, but my mother's love is with me still, and the battle is for right and for law."

[611]So in after-times the minstrels sang of the glorious deeds of Theseus the brave and fair. They told how at last at the bidding of his father he went forth from the gates of Athens and smote the bull which ravaged the broad plains of Marathon, and how in the secret maze of the labyrinth he smote the Minotauros. They sang of his exploits in the day when the Amazons did battle with the men of Athens—how he went with Meleagros and his chieftains to the chase of the boar in Kalydon—how with the heroes in the ship Argo he brought back the golden fleece from Kolchis. They told how at last he went down with Peirithoos, his comrade, into the gloomy kingdom of Hades and seized on the daughter of Demeter, to bring her to the land of living men. They sang of the fierce wrath of Hades when his lightnings burst forth and smote Peirithoos—of the dark prison-house where Theseus lay while many a rolling year went round, until at last the mighty Herakles passed the borders of the shadowy land and set the captive free.

And so it was that, when the heroes had passed to the home of Zeus and the banquet of the gods, the glory of Theseus was as the glory of the brave son of Alkmene who toiled for the false Eurystheus; and ever in the days of feasting, the minstrels linked together the names of Herakles and Theseus.

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ARIADNE.

The soft western breeze was bearing a ship from the Athenian land to the fair haven of Gnossos, and the waters played merrily round the ship as it sped along the paths of the sea. But on board there were mournful hearts and weeping eyes, for the youths and maidens which that ship was bearing to Crete were to be the prey of the savage Minotauros. As they came near [612]the harbor gates, they saw the people of King Minos crowded on the shore, and they wept aloud because they should no more look on the earth and on the sun as he journeyed through the heaven.

In that throng stood Ariadne, the daughter of the King, and as she gazed on the youths and maidens who came out of the tribute ship, there passed before her one taller and fairer than all, and she saw that his eye alone was bright and his step firm, as he moved from the shore to go to the house of Minos. Presently they all stood before the King, and he saw that one alone gazed steadfastly upon him, while the eyes of the rest were dim with many tears. Then he said, "What is thy name?" The young man answered, "I am Theseus, the son of King Aigeus, and I have come as one of the tribute children, but I part not with my life till I have battled for it with all my strength. Wherefore send me first, I pray thee, that I may fight with Minotauros; for if I be the conqueror, then shall all these go back with me in peace to our own land." Then Minos said, "Thou shalt indeed go first to meet Minotauros; but think not to conquer him in the fight, for the flame from his mouth will scorch thee, and no mortal man may withstand his strength." And Theseus answered, "It is for man to do what best he may; the gods know for whom remains the victory."

But the gentle heart of Ariadne was moved with love and pity as she looked on his fair face and his bright and fearless eye, and she said within herself, "I can not kill the Minotauros or rob him of his strength, but I will guide Theseus so that he may reach the monster while sleep lies heavy upon him."

On the next day Theseus, the Athenian, was to meet the dreadful Minotauros, who dwelt in the labyrinth of Gnossos. Far within its thousand twisted alleys was his den, where he waited for his prey, as they were brought each along the winding paths. But Ariadne talked in secret with Theseus in the [613]still evening time, and she gave him a clue of thread, so that he might know how to come back out of the mazes of the labyrinth after he had slain the Minotauros; and when the moon looked down from heaven, she led him to a hidden gate, and bade him go forth boldly, for he should come to the monster's den while sleep lay heavy on his eyes. So when the morning came, the Minotauros lay lifeless on the ground, and there was joy and gladness in the great city of Gnossos, and Minos himself rejoiced that the youths and maidens might go back with Theseus in peace to Athens.

So once again they went into the ship, and the breeze blew softly to carry them to the homes which they had not thought to see again. But Theseus talked with Ariadne, in the house of Minos, and the maiden wept as though some great grief lay heavy upon her, and Theseus twined his arm gently round her, and said, "Fairest of maidens, thy aid hath saved me from death, but I care not now to live if I may not be with thee. Come with me, and I will lead thee to the happier land, where my father, Aigeus, is King. Come with me, that my people may see and love the maiden who rescued the tribute children from the savage Minotauros."

Then Ariadne went with him joyfully, for her own love made her think that Theseus loved her not less dearly. So she wept not as she saw the towers of Gnossos growing fainter and fainter while the ship sped over the dancing waters, and she thought only of the happy days which she should spend in the bright Athens where Theseus should one day be King. Gaily the ship sped upon her way, and there was laughter and mirth among the youths and maidens who were going back to their home. And Theseus sat by the side of Ariadne, speaking the words of a deeper love than in truth he felt, and fancying that he loved the maiden even as the maiden loved him. But while yet he gazed on the beautiful Ariadne, the image of Aigle came [614]back to his mind, and the old love was wakened again in his heart. Onward sailed the ship, cleaving its way through the foaming waters, by the Islands of Thera and Amorgos, till the high cliffs of Naxos broke upon their sight.

The sun was sinking down into the sea when they came to its winding shores, and the seamen moored the ship to the land, and came forth to rest until the morning. There they feasted gaily on the beach, and Theseus talked with Ariadne until the moon was high up in the sky. So they slept through the still hours of night, but when the sun was risen, Ariadne was alone upon the sea-shore. In doubt and fear, she roamed along the beach, but she saw no one, and there was no ship sailing on the blue sea. In many a bay and nook she sought him, and she cried in bitter sorrow, "Ah, Theseus, Theseus, hast thou forsaken me?" Her feet were wounded by the sharp flints, her limbs were faint from very weariness, and her eyes were dim with tears. Above her rose the high cliffs like a wall, before her was spread the bright and laughing sea, and her heart sank within her, for she felt that she must die. "Ah, Theseus," she cried, "have I done thee wrong? I pitied thee in the time of thy sorrow and saved thee from thy doom, and then I listened to thy fair words, and trusted them as a maiden trusts when love is first awakened within her. Yet hast thou dealt me a hard requital. Thou art gone to happy Athens, and it may be thou thinkest already of some bright maiden who there has crossed thy path, and thou hast left me here to die for weariness and hunger. So would I not requite thee for a deed of love and pity."

Wearied and sad of heart, she sank down on the rock, and [615]her long hair streamed over her fair shoulders. Her hands were clasped around her knees, and the hot tears ran down her cheeks, and she knew not that there stood before her one fairer and brighter than the sons of men, until she heard a voice which said, "Listen to me, daughter of Minos. I am Dionysos, the lord of the feast and revel. I wander with light heart and the sweet sounds of laughter and song over land and sea; I saw thee aid Theseus when he went into the labyrinth to slay the Minotauros. I heard his fair words when he prayed thee to leave thy home and go with him to Athens. I saw him this morning, while yet the stars twinkled in the sky, arouse his men and sail away in his ship to the land of Aigeus; but I sought not to stay him, for, Ariadne, thou must dwell with me. Thy love and beauty are a gift too great for Theseus; but thou shalt be the bride of Dionysos. Thy days shall be passed amid feasts and banquets, and when thy life is ended here, thou shalt go with me to the homes of the undying gods, and men shall see the crown of Ariadne in the heavens when the stars look forth at night from the dark sky. Nay, weep not, Ariadne, thy love for Theseus hath been but the love of a day, and I have loved thee long before the black-sailed ship brought him from poor and rugged Athens." Then Ariadne wept no more, and in the arms of Dionysos she forgot the false and cruel Theseus; so that among the matrons who thronged round the joyous wine-god the fairest and the most joyous was Ariadne, the daughter of Minos.

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ARETHUSA.

On the heights of Mænalos the hunter Alpheios saw the maiden Arethusa as she wandered joyously with her companions over the green swelling downs where the heather spread out its [616]pink blossoms to the sky. Onward she came, the fairest of all the band, until she drew nigh to the spot where Alpheios stood marveling at the brightness of her beauty. Then, as she followed the winding path on the hill-side, she saw his eye resting upon her, and her heart was filled with fear, for his dark face was flushed by the toil of the long chase and his torn raiment waved wildly in the breeze. And yet more was she afraid when she heard the sound of his rough voice, as he prayed her to tarry by his side. She lingered not to listen to his words, but with light foot she sped over hill and dale and along the bank of the river where it leaps down the mountain cliffs and winds along the narrow valleys.

Then Alpheios vowed a vow that the maiden should not escape him. "I will follow thee," he said, "over hill and dale; I will seek thee through rivers and seas, and where thou shalt rest, there will I rest, also." Onward they sped, across the dark heights of Erymanthos and over the broad plains of Pisa, till the waters of the western sea lay spread out before them, dancing in the light of the midday sun.

Then with arms outstretched, and with wearied limbs, Arethusa cried aloud, and said, "O daughters of the gentle Okeanos, I have played with you on the white shore in the days of mirth and gladness, and now I come to your green depths. Save me from the hand of the wild huntsman." So she plunged beneath the waves of the laughing sea, and the daughters of Okeanos bore her gently downwards till she came to the coral caves, where they sat listening to the sweet song of the waters. But there they suffered her not to rest, for they said, "Yet further must thou flee, Arethusa, for Alpheios comes behind thee." Then in their arms they bore her gently beneath the depths of the sea, till they laid her down at last on the Ortygian shore of the Thrinakian land, as the sun was sinking down in the sky. Dimly she saw spread before her the blue hills, and she felt the [617]soft breath of the summer breeze, as her eyes closed for weariness. Then suddenly she heard the harsh voice which scared her on the heights of Mænalos, and she tarried not to listen to his prayer. "Flee not away, Arethusa," said the huntsman, Alpheios, "I mean not to harm thee; let me rest in thy love, and let me die for the beauty of thy fair face." But the maiden fled with a wild cry along the winding shore, and the light step of her foot left no print on the glistening sand. "Not thus shalt thou escape from my arms," said the huntsman, and he stretched forth his hand to seize the maiden, as she drew nigh to a fountain whose waters flashed clear and bright in the light of the sinking sun. Then once again Arethusa called aloud on the daughters [618]of Okeanos, and she said, "O friends, once more I come to your coral caves, for on earth there is for me no resting-place." So the waters closed over the maiden, and the image of heaven came down again on the bright fountain. Then a flush of anger passed over the face of Alpheios, as he said, "On earth thou hast scorned my love, O maiden, but my form shall be fairer in thy sight when I rest beside thee beneath the laughing waters." So over the huntsman, Alpheios, flowed the Ortygian stream, and the love of Arethusa was given to him in the coral caves, where they dwell with the daughters of Okeanos.

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TYRO.

On the banks of the fairest stream in all the land of Thessaly, the golden-haired Enipeus wooed the maiden Tyro; with her he wandered in gladness of heart, following the path of the winding river, and talking with her of his love. And Tyro listened to his tender words, as day by day she stole away from the house of her father, Salmoneus, to spend the livelong day on the banks of his beautiful stream.

But Salmoneus was full of rage when he knew that Tyro loved Enipeus, and how she had become the mother of two fair babes. There was none to plead for Tyro and her helpless children, for her mother, Alkidike, was dead, and Salmoneus had taken the iron-hearted Sidero to be his wife. So he followed her evil counsels, and he said to Tyro, "Thy children must die, and thou must wed Kretheus, the son of the mighty Aiolos."

Then Tyro hastened in bitter sorrow to the banks of the stream, and her babes slept in her arms, and she stretched out her hands with a loud cry for aid, but Enipeus heard her not, for he lay in his green dwelling far down beneath the happy waters. [619]So she placed the babes amidst the thick rushes which grew along the banks, and she said, "O Enipeus, my father says that I may no more see thy face; but to thee I give our children; guard them from the anger of Salmoneus, and it may be that in time to come they will avenge my wrongs."

There, nestled amid the tall reeds, the children slept, till a herdsman saw them as he followed his cattle along the shore. And Tyro went back in anguish of heart to the house of Salmoneus, but she would not have the love of Kretheus or listen to his words. Then Sidero whispered again her evil counsels into the ear of Salmoneus, and he shut up Tyro, so that she might not see the light of the sun or hear the voice of man. He cut off the golden locks that clustered on her fair cheeks, he clothed her in rough raiment, and bound her in fetters which gave her no rest by night or by day. So in her misery she pined away, and her body was wasted by hunger and thirst, because she would not become the wife of Kretheus. Then more and more she thought of the days when she listened to the words of Enipeus as she wandered with him by the side of the sounding waters, and she said within herself, "He heard me not when I called to him for help, but I gave him my children, and it may be that he has saved them from death; and if ever they see my face again, they shall know that I never loved any save Enipeus, who dwells beneath the stream."

So the years passed on, and Pelias and Neleus dwelt with the herdsman, and they grew up strong in body and brave of soul. But Enipeus had not forgotten the wrongs of Tyro, and he put it into the heart of her children to punish Sidero for her evil counsels. So Sidero died, and they brought out their mother from her dreary dungeon, and led her to the banks of the stream where she had heard the words of Enipeus in the former days. But her eyes were dim with long weeping, and the words of her children sounded strangely in her ears, and she [620]said, "O my children, let me sink to sleep while I hear your voices, which sound to me like the voice of Enipeus." So she fell asleep and died, and they laid her body in the ground by the river's bank, where the waters of Enipeus made their soft music near her grave.

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NARKISSOS.

On the banks of Kephisos, Echo saw and loved the beautiful Narkissos, but the youth cared not for the maiden of the hills, and his heart was cold to the words of her love, for he mourned for his sister, whom Hermes had taken away beyond the Stygian River. Day by day he sat alone by the streamside, sorrowing for the bright maiden whose life was bound up with his own, because they had seen the light of the sun in the self-same day, and thither came Echo and sat down by his side, and sought in vain to win his love. "Look on me and see," she said, "I am fairer than the sister for whom thou dost mourn." But Narkissos answered her not, for he knew that the maiden would ever have something to say against his words. So he sat silent and looked down into the stream, and there he saw his own face in the clear water, and it was to him as the face of his sister for whom he pined away in sorrow, and his grief became less bitter as he seemed to see again her soft blue eye, and almost to hear the words which came from her lips. But the grief of Narkissos was too deep for tears, and it dried up slowly the fountain of his life. In vain the words of Echo fell upon his ears, as she prayed him to hearken to her prayer: "Ah, Narkissos, thou mournest for one who can not heed thy sorrow, and thou carest not for her who longs to see thy face and hear thy voice forever." But Narkissos saw still in the waters of Kephisos the face of his twin sister, and still gazing at it he fell asleep [621]and died. Then the voice of Echo was heard no more, for she sat in silence by his grave, and a beautiful flower came up close to it. Its white blossoms drooped over the banks of Kephisos where Narkissos had sat and looked down into its clear water, and the people of the land called the plant after his name.

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ORPHEUS AND EURYDIKE.

In the pleasant valleys of a country which was called Thessaly there lived a man whose name was Orpheus. Every day he made soft music with his golden harp, and sang beautiful songs such as no one had ever heard before. And whenever Orpheus sang, then everything came to listen to him, and the trees bowed down their heads to hear, and even the clouds sailed along more gently and brightly in the sky when he sang, and the stream which ran close to his feet made a softer noise, to show how glad his music made it.

Now, Orpheus had a wife who was called Eurydike, whom he loved very dearly. All through the winter, when the snow was on the hills, and all through the summer, when the sunshine made everything beautiful, Orpheus used to sing to her, and Eurydike sat on the grass by his side while the beasts came round to listen, and the trees bowed down their heads to hear him.

But one day when Eurydike was playing with some children on the bank of the river, she trod upon a snake in the long grass, and the snake bit her. And by and by she began to be very sick, and Eurydike knew that she must die. So she told the children to go to Orpheus (for he was far away) and say how sorry she was to leave him, and that she loved him always very dearly, and then she put her head down upon the grass and fell [622]asleep and died. Sad indeed was Orpheus when the children came to tell him that Eurydike was dead. He felt so wretched that he never played upon his golden harp, and he never opened his lips to sing, and the beasts that used to listen to him wondered why Orpheus sat all alone on the green bank where Eurydike used to sit with him, and why it was that he never made any more of his beautiful music. All day long he sat there, and his cheeks were often wet with tears. At last he said, "I can not stay here any more, I must go and look for Eurydike. I can not bear to be without her, and perhaps the king of the land where people go after they are dead will let her come back and live with me again."

So he took his harp in his hand, and went to look for Eurydike in the land which is far away, where the sun goes down into his golden cup before the night comes on. And he went on and on a very long way, till at last he came to a high and dark gateway. It was barred across with iron bars, and it was bolted and locked so that nobody could open it.

It was a wretched and gloomy place, because the sunshine never came there, and it was covered with clouds and mist. In front of this great gateway there sat a monstrous dog, with three heads, and six eyes, and three tongues, and everything was dark around, except his eyes, which shone like fire, and which saw every one that dared to come near. Now, when Orpheus came looking for Eurydike, the dog raised his three heads, and opened his three mouths, and gnashed his teeth at him, and roared terribly, but when Orpheus came nearer, the dog jumped up upon his feet and got himself ready to fly at him and tear him to pieces. Then Orpheus took down his harp and began to play upon its golden strings. And the dog, Kerberos (for that was his name), growled and snarled and showed the great white teeth which were in his three mouths, but he could not help hearing the sweet music, and he wondered why it was that he did [623]not wish any more to tear Orpheus in pieces. Very soon the music made him quiet and still, and at last it lulled him to sleep, and only his heavy breathing told that there was any dog there. So when Kerberos had gone to sleep, Orpheus passed by him and came up to the gate, and he found it wide open, for it had come open of its own accord while he was singing. And he was glad when he saw this, for he thought that now he should see Eurydike.

So he went on and on a long way, until he came to the palace of the King, and there were guards placed before the door who tried to keep him from going in, but Orpheus played upon his harp, and then they could not help letting him go.

So he went into the great hall, where he saw the King and Queen sitting on a throne, and as Orpheus came near, the King called out to him with a loud and terrible voice, "Who are you, and how dare you to come here? Do you not know that no one is allowed to come here till after they are dead? I will have you chained and placed in a dungeon, from which you will never be able to get out." Then Orpheus said nothing, but he took his golden harp in his hand and began to sing more sweetly and gently than ever, because he knew that, if he liked to do so, the King could let him see Eurydike again. And as he sang, the face of the King began to look almost glad, and his anger passed away, and he began to feel how much happier it must be to be gentle and loving than to be angry and cruel. Then the King said, "You have made me feel happy with your sweet music, although I have never felt happy before; and now tell me why you have come, because you must want something or other, for, otherwise, no one would come, before he was dead, to [624]this sad and gloomy land of which I am the King." Then Orpheus said, "O King, give me back my dear Eurydike, and let her go from this gloomy place and live with me on the bright earth again." So the King said that she should go. And the King said to Orpheus, "I have given you what you wanted, because you sang so sweetly, and when you go back to the earth from this place, your wife whom you love shall go up after you, but remember that you must never look back until she has reached the earth, for if you do, Eurydike will be brought back here, and I shall not be able to give her to you again, even if you should sing more sweetly and gently than ever."

Now, Orpheus was longing to see Eurydike, and he hoped that the King would let him see her at once, but when the King said that he must not try to see her till she had reached the earth, he was quite content, for he said, "Shall I not wait patiently a little while, that Eurydike may come and live with me again?" So he promised the King that he would go up to the earth without stopping to look behind and see whether Eurydike was coming after him.

Then Orpheus went away from the palace of the King, and he passed through the dark gateway, and the dog, Kerberos, did not bark or growl, for he knew that Orpheus would not have been allowed to come back if the King had not wished it. So he went on and on a long way, and he became impatient, and longed more and more to see Eurydike. At last he came near to the land of living men, and he saw just a little streak of light, where the sun was going to rise from the sea, and presently the sky became brighter, and he saw everything before him so clearly that he could not help turning round to look at Eurydike. But, ah! she had not yet quite reached the earth, and so now he lost her again. He just saw something pale and white, which looked like his own dear wife, and he just heard a soft and gentle voice, which sounded like the voice of Eurydike, and [625]then it all melted away. And still he thought that he saw that pale white face, and heard that soft and gentle voice, which said, "O Orpheus, Orpheus, why did you look back? How dearly I love you, and how glad I should have been to live with you again, but now I must go back, because you have broken your promise to the King, and I must not even kiss you, and say how much I love you."

And Orpheus sat down at the place where Eurydike was taken away from him, and he could not go on any further, because he felt so miserable. There he stayed day after day, and his cheek became more pale, and his body weaker and weaker, till at last he knew that he must die. And Orpheus was not sorry, for although he loved the bright earth, with all its flowers and soft grass and sunny streams, he knew that he could not be with Eurydike again until he left it. So at last he laid his head upon the earth, and fell asleep, and died; and then he and Eurydike saw each other in the land which is far away, where the sun goes down at night into his golden cup, and were never parted again.

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KADMOS AND EUROPA.

In a beautiful valley in Phœnicia, a long time ago, two children, named Kadmos and Europa, lived with their mother, Telephassa. They were good and happy children, and full of fun and merriment. It was a very lovely place in which they lived, where there were all sorts of beautiful trees with fruits and flowers. The oranges shone like gold among the dark leaves, and great bunches of dates hung from the tall palm trees [626]which bowed their heads as if they were asleep, and there was a delicious smell from the lime groves, and from many fruits and flowers which are never seen in America, but which blossom and ripen under the hot sun in Syria.

So the years went; and one day, as they were playing about by the side of the river, there came into the field a beautiful white bull. He was quite white all over—as white as the whitest snow; there was not a single spot or speck on any part of his body. And he came and lay down on the green grass, and remained still and quiet. So they went nearer and nearer to the bull, and the bull did not move, but looked at them with his large eyes as if he wished to ask them to come and play with him, and at last they came to the place where the bull was. Then Kadmos thought that he would be very brave, so he put out his hand, and began to pat the bull on his side, and the bull only made a soft sound to show how glad he was. Then Europa put out her hand, and stroked him on the face, and laid hold of his white horn, and the bull rubbed his face gently against her dress.

So by and by Kadmos thought that it would be pleasant to have a ride on the back of the bull, and he got on, and the bull rose up from the ground, and went slowly round the field with Kadmos on his back, and just for a minute or two Kadmos felt frightened, but when he saw how well and safely the bull carried him, he was not afraid any more. So they played with the bull until the sun sank down behind the hills, and then they hastened home.

When they reached the house, they ran quickly to Telephassa, and said to her, "Only think, we have been playing in the field with a beautiful white bull." And Telephassa was glad that they had been so happy, but she would not have been so glad if she had known what the bull was going to do.

Now, the next day while Europa was on its back, the bull began to trot quickly away, but Kadmos thought he was only [627]trotting away for fun. So he ran after him, and cried out to make him stop. But the faster that Kadmos ran, the bull ran faster still, and then Kadmos saw that the bull was running away with his sister, Europa. Away the bull flew, all along the bank of the river, and up the steep hill and down into the valley on the other side, and then he scoured along the plain beneath. And Kadmos watched his white body, which shone like silver as he dashed through the small bushes and the long waving grass and the creeping plants which were trailing about all over the ground, till at last the white body of the bull looked only like a little speck, and then Kadmos could see it no more.

Very wretched was Kadmos when his sister was taken away from him in this strange way. His eyes were full of tears so that he could scarcely see, but still he kept on looking and looking in the way the bull had gone, and hoping that he would bring his sister back by and by. But the sun sank lower and lower in the sky, and then Kadmos saw him go down behind the hills, and he knew now that the bull would not come again, and then he began to weep bitterly. He hardly dared to go home and tell Telephassa what had happened, and yet he knew that he ought to tell her. So he went home slowly and sadly, and Telephassa saw him coming alone, and she began to be afraid that something had happened to Europa, and when she came up to him Kadmos could scarcely speak. At last he said, "The bull has run away with Europa." Then Telephassa asked him where he had gone, and Kadmos said that he did not know. But Telephassa said, "Which way did he go?" and then Kadmos told her that the bull had run away towards the land of the West, where the sun goes down into his golden cup. Then Telephassa said that they, too, must get up early in the morning and go towards the land of the West, and see if they could find Europa again.

That night they hardly slept at all, and their cheeks were [628]pale and wet with their tears. And before the sun rose, and while the stars still glimmered in the pale light of the morning, they got up and went on their journey to look for Europa. Far away they went, along the valleys and over the hills, across the rivers and through the woods, and they asked every one whom they met if they had seen a white bull with a girl upon its back. But no one had seen anything of the kind, and many people thought that Kadmos and Telephassa were silly to ask such a question, for they said, "Girls do not ride on the backs of bulls; you can not be telling the truth." So they went on and on, asking every one, but hearing nothing about her; and as they journeyed, sometimes they saw the great mountains rising up high into the sky, with their tops covered with snow, and shining like gold in the light of the setting sun; sometimes they rested on the bank of a great broad river, where the large white leaves lay floating and sleeping on the water, and where the palm trees waved their long branches above their heads. Sometimes they came to a water-fall, where the water sparkled brightly as it rushed over the great stones. And whenever they came to these beautiful places, Kadmos would say to Telephassa, "How we should have enjoyed staying here if Europa were with us; but we do not care to stay here now, we must go on looking for her everywhere." So they went on and on till they came to the sea, and they wondered how they could get across it, for it was a great deal wider than any river which they had seen. At last they found a place where the sea was narrow, and here a boatman took them across in his boat, just where little Helle had been drowned when she fell off the back of the ram that was carrying her and her brother away to Kolchis. So Telephassa and Kadmos crossed over Hellespontos, which means the Sea of Helle, and they went on and on, over mountains and hills and rocks, and wild gloomy places, till they came to the sunny plains of Thessaly. And still they asked every one about Europa, but [629]they found no one who had seen her. And Kadmos saw that his mother was getting weak and thin, and that she could not walk now as far and as quickly as she had done when they had set out from home to look for his sister. So he asked her to rest for a little while. But Telephassa said, "We must go on, Kadmos, for if we do, perhaps we may still find Europa." So they went on, until at last Telephassa felt that she could not go any further. And she said to Kadmos, "I am very tired, and I do not think I shall be able to walk any more with you; I must lie down and go to sleep here, and perhaps, Kadmos, I may not wake again. But if I die while I am asleep, then you must go on by yourself and look for Europa, for I am quite sure that you will find her some day, although I shall not be with you. And when you see your sister, tell her how I longed to find her again, and how much I loved her always. And now, my child, I must go to sleep, and if I do not wake up any more, then I trust that we shall all see each other again one day, in a land which is brighter and happier than even the land in which we used to live before your sister was taken away from us."

So when she had said this, Telephassa fell asleep, just as the daylight was going away from the sky, and when the bright round moon rose up slowly from behind the dark hill. All night long Kadmos watched by her side, and when the morning came, he saw that Telephassa had died while she was asleep. Her face was quite still, and Kadmos knew by the happy smile which was on it, that she had gone to the bright land to which good people go when they are dead. Kadmos was very sorry to be parted from his mother, but he was not sorry that now she could not feel tired or sorrowful any more. So Kadmos placed his mother's body in the ground, and very soon all kinds of flowers grew up upon her grave.

But Kadmos had gone on to look for his sister, Europa, and presently he met a shepherd who was leading his flock of sheep. [630]He was very beautiful to look at. His face shone as bright almost as the sun. He had a golden harp, and a golden bow, and arrows in a golden quiver, and his name was Phœbus Apollo. And Kadmos went up to him and said, "Have you seen my sister, Europa? a white bull ran away with her on his back. Can you tell me where I can find her?" And Phœbus Apollo said, "I have seen your sister, Europa, but I can not tell you yet where she is, you must go on a great way further still, till you come to a town which is called Delphi, under a great mountain named Parnassos, and there perhaps you may be able to find out something about her. But when you have seen her you must not stay there, because I wish you to build a city, and become a King, and be wise and strong and good. You and Europa must follow a beautiful cow that I shall send, till it lies down upon the ground to rest, and the place where the cow shall lie down shall be the place where I wish you to build the city."

So Kadmos went on and on till he came to the town of Delphi, which lay beneath the great mountain, called Parnassos. And there he saw a beautiful temple with white marble pillars, which shone brightly in the light of the early morning. And Kadmos went into the temple, and there he saw his dear sister, Europa. And Kadmos said, "Europa, is it you, indeed? How glad I am to find you." Then Europa told Kadmos how the bull had brought her and left her there a long time ago, and how sorry she had been that she could not tell Telephassa where she was. Then she said to Kadmos, "How pale and thin and weak you look; tell me how it is you are come alone, and when shall I see our dear mother?" Then his eyes became full of tears, and Kadmos said, "We shall never see our mother again in this world. She has gone to the happy land where good people go when they are dead. She was so tired with seeking after you that at last she could not come any further, and she lay down and fell asleep, and never waked up again. But she said that when [631]I saw you I must tell you how she longed to see you, and how she hoped that we should all live together one day in the land to which she has gone before us. And now, Europa, we must not stay here, for I met a shepherd whose name is Phœbus Apollo. He had a golden harp and a golden bow, and his face shone like the sun, and he told me that we must follow a beautiful cow which he would send, and build a city in that place where the cow shall lie down to rest."

So Europa left Delphi with her brother, Kadmos, and when they had gone a little way, they saw a cow lying down on the grass. But when they came near, the cow got up, and began to [632]walk in front of them, and then they knew that this was the cow which Phœbus Apollo had sent. So they followed the cow, and it went on and on, a long way, and at last it lay down to rest on a large plain, and Kadmos knew then that this was the place where he must build the city. And there he built a great many houses, and the city was called Thebes. And Kadmos became the King of Thebes, and his sister, Europa, lived there with him. He was a wise and good King, and ruled his people justly and kindly. And by and by Kadmos and Europa both fell asleep and died, and then they saw their mother, Telephassa, in the happy land to which good people go when they are dead, and were never parted from her any more.

---

BELLEROPHON.

The minstrels sang of the beauty and the great deeds of Bellerophon through all the lands of Argos. His arm was strong in the battle, his feet were swift in the chase, and his heart was pure as the pure heart of Artemis and Athene. None that were poor and weak and wretched feared the might of Bellerophon. To them the sight of his beautiful form brought only joy and gladness, but the proud and boastful, the slanderer and the robber, dreaded the glance of his keen eye. But the hand of Zeus lay heavy upon Bellerophon. He dwelt in the halls of King Prœtos, and served him even as Herakles served the mean and crafty Eurystheus. For many long years Bellerophon knew that he must obey the bidding of a man weaker than himself, but his soul failed him not, and he went forth to his long toil with a heart strong as the sun when he rises in his strength, and pure as the heart of a little child.

But Anteia, the wife of King Prœtos, saw day by day the [633]beauty of Bellerophon, and she would not turn away her eye from his fair face. Every day he seemed to her to be more and more like to the bright heroes who feast with the gods in the halls of high Olympos, and her heart became filled with love, and she sought to beguile Bellerophon by her enticing words. But he hearkened not to her evil prayer, and heeded not her tears and sighs; so her love was turned to wrath, and she vowed a vow that Bellerophon should suffer a sore vengeance, because he would not hear her prayer. Then, in her rage, she went to King Prœtos, and said, "Bellerophon, thy slave, hath sought to do me wrong, and to lead me astray by his crafty words. Long time he strove with me to win my love, but I would not hearken to him. Therefore, let thine hand lie more heavy upon him than in time past, for the evil that he hath done, and slay him before my face." Then was Prœtos also full of anger, but he feared to slay Bellerophon, lest he should bring on himself the wrath of Zeus, his father. So he took a tablet of wood, and on it he drew grievous signs of toil and war, of battles and death, and gave it to Bellerophon to carry to the far-off Lykian land, where the father of Anteia was King, and as he bade him farewell, he said, "Show this tablet to the King of Lykia, and he will recompense thee for all thy good deeds which thou hast done for me, and for the people of Argos."

So Bellerophon went forth on his long wandering, and dreamed not of the evil that was to befall him by the wicked craft of Anteia. On and on he journeyed towards the rising of the sun, till he came to the country of the Lykians. Then he went to the house of the King, who welcomed him with rich banquets, and feasted him for nine days, and on the tenth day he sought to know wherefore Bellerophon had come to the Lykian land. Then Bellerophon took the tablet of Prœtos and gave it to the King, who saw on it grievous signs of toil and woe, of battles and death. Presently the King spake, and said, "There [634]are great things which remain for thee to do, Bellerophon, but when thy toil is over, high honor awaits thee here and in the homes of the bright heroes." So the King sent him forth to slay the terrible Chimæra, which had the face of a lion with a goat's body and a dragon's tail. Then Bellerophon journeyed yet further towards the rising of the sun, till he came to the pastures where the winged horse, Pegasos, the child of Gorgo, with the snaky hair, was feeding, and he knew that if he could tame the steed he should then be able to conquer the fierce Chimæra.

Long time he sought to seize on Pegasos, but the horse snorted wildly and tore up the ground in his fury, till Bellerophon sank wearied on the earth and a deep sleep weighed down his eyelids. Then, as he slept, Pallas Athene came and stood by his side, and cheered him with her brave words, and gave him a philtre which should tame the wild Pegasos. When Bellerophon awoke, the philtre was in his hand, and he knew now that he should accomplish the task which the Lykian King had given him to do. So, by the help of Athene, he mounted the winged Pegasos and smote the Chimæra, and struck off his head, and with it he went back, and told the King of all that had befallen him. But the King was filled with rage, for he thought not to see the face of Bellerophon again, and he charged him to go forth and do battle with the mighty Solymi and the fair Amazons. Then Bellerophon went forth again, for he dreamed not of guile and falsehood, and he dreaded neither man nor beast that might meet him in open battle. Long time he fought with the Solymi and the Amazons, until all his enemies shrank from the stroke of his mighty arm, and sought for mercy. Glad of heart, Bellerophon departed to carry his spoils to the home of the Lykian King, but as he drew nigh to it and was passing through a narrow dell where the thick brushwood covered the ground, fifty of the mightiest Lykians rushed upon him with fierce shoutings, and sought to slay him. At the first, [635]Bellerophon withheld his hands, and said, "Lykian friends, I have feasted in the halls of your King, and eaten of his bread; surely ye are not come hither to slay me." But they shouted the more fiercely, and they hurled spears at Bellerophon; so he stretched forth his hand in the greatness of his strength, and did battle for his life until all the Lykians lay dead before him.

Weary in body and sad of heart, Bellerophon entered the hall where the King was feasting with his chieftains. And the King knew that Bellerophon could not have come thither unless he had first slain all the warriors whom he had sent forth to lie in wait for him. But he dissembled his wrath, and said, "Welcome, Bellerophon, bravest and mightiest of the sons of men. Thy toils are done, and the time of rest is come for thee. Thou shalt wed my daughter, and share with me my kingly power."

Then the minstrels praised the deeds of Bellerophon, and there was feasting for many days when he wedded the daughter of the King. But not yet was his doom accomplished; and once again the dark cloud gathered around him, laden with woe and suffering. Far away from his Lykian home, the wrath of Zeus drove him to the western land where the sun goes down into the sea. His heart was brave and guileless still, as in the days of his early youth, but the strength of his arm was weakened, and the light of his eye was now dim. Sometimes the might was given back to his limbs, and his face shone with its ancient beauty; and then, again, he wandered on in sadness and sorrow, as a man wanders in a strange path through the dark hours of night, when the moon is down. And so it was that when Bellerophon reached the western sea, he fell asleep and died, and the last sight which he saw before his eyes were closed was the red glare of the dying sun, as he broke through the barred clouds and plunged beneath the sea.

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[636]ALTHAIA AND THE BURNING BRAND.

There was feasting in the halls of Oineus, the chieftain of Kalydon, in the Ætolian land, and all prayed for wealth and glory for the chief, and for his wife, Althaia, and for the child who had on that day been born to them. And Oineus besought the King of gods and men with rich offerings, that his son, Meleagros, might win a name greater than his own, that he might grow up stout of heart and strong of arm, and that in time to come men might say, "Meleagros wrought mighty works and did good deeds to the people of the land."

But the mighty Moirai, whose word even Zeus himself may not turn aside, had fixed the doom of Meleagros. The child lay sleeping in his mother's arms, and Althaia prayed that her son might grow up brave and gentle, and be to her a comforter in the time of age and the hour of death. Suddenly, as she yet spake, the Moirai stood before her. There was no love or pity in their cold, grey eyes, and they looked down with stern, unchanging faces on the mother and her child, and one of them said, "The brand burns on the hearth, when it is burnt wholly, thy child shall die." But love is swifter than thought, and the mother snatched the burning brand from the fire, and quenched its flame in water, and she placed it in a secret place where no hand but her own might reach it.

So the child grew, brave of heart and sturdy of limb, and ever ready to hunt the wild beasts or to go against the cities of men. Many great deeds he did in the far-off Kolchian land, when the chieftains sailed with Athamas and Ino to take away the golden fleece from King Aietes. But there were greater things for him to do when he came again to Kalydon, for his father, Oineus, had roused the wrath of the mighty Artemis. There was rich banqueting in his great hall when his harvest was [637]ingathered, and Zeus and all the other gods feasted on the fat burnt-offerings, but no gift was set apart for the virgin child of Leto. Soon she requited the wrong to Oineus, and a savage boar was seen in the land, which tore up the fruit-trees, and destroyed the seed in the ground, and trampled on the green corn as it came up. None dared to approach it, for its mighty tusks tore everything that crossed its path. Long time the chieftains took counsel what they should do, until Meleagros said, "I will go forth; who will follow me?" Then from Kalydon and from the cities and lands round about came mighty chieftains and brave youths, even as they had hastened to the ship, Argo, when they sought to win the golden fleece from Kolchis. With them came the Kouretes, who live in Pleuron, and among them were seen Kastor and Polydeukes, the twin brethren, and Theseus, with his comrade, Peirithoos, and Iason and Admetos. But more beautiful than all was Atalante, the daughter of Schoineus, a stranger from the Arcadian land. Much the chieftains sought to keep her from the chase, for the maiden's arm was strong, and her feet swift, and her aim sure, and they liked not that she should come from a far country to share their glory or take away their name. But Meleagros loved the fair and brave maiden, and said, "If she go not to the chase, neither will I go with you." So they suffered her, and the chase began. At first the boar fled, trampling down those whom he chanced to meet, and rending them with his tusks, but at last he stood fiercely at bay, and fought furiously, and many of the hunters fell, until at length the spear of Atalante pierced his side, and then Meleagros slew him.

Then was there great gladness as they dragged the body of the boar to Kalydon, and made ready to divide the spoil. But the anger of Artemis was not yet soothed, and she roused a strife between the men of Pleuron and the men of Kalydon. For Meleagros sought to have the head, and the Kouretes of [638]Pleuron cared not to take the hide only for their portion. So the strife grew hot between them, until Meleagros slew the chieftain of the Kouretes, who was the brother of Althaia, his mother. Then he seized the head of the boar, and bare it to Atalante, and said, "Take, maiden, the spoils are rightly thine. From thy spear came the first wound which smote down the boar; and well hast thou earned the prize for the fleetness of thy foot and the sureness of thy aim."

So Atalante took the spoils and carried them to her home in the Arcadian land, but the men of Pleuron were full of wrath, and they made war on the men of Kalydon. Many times they fought, but in every battle the strong arm of Meleagros and his stout heart won the victory for the men of his own city, and the Kouretes began to grow faint in spirit, so that they quailed before the spear and sword of Meleagros. But presently Meleagros was seen no more with his people, and his voice was no longer heard cheering them on to the battle. No more would he take lance in hand or lift up his shield for the strife, but he tarried in his own house by the side of the beautiful Kleopatra, whom Idas, her father, gave to him to be his wife.

For the heart of his mother was filled with grief and rage when she heard the story of the deadly strife, and that Meleagros, her child, had slain her brother. In heavy wrath and sorrow she sat down upon the earth, and she cast the dust from the ground into the air, and with wild words called on Hades, the unseen King, and Persephone, who shares his dark throne: "Lord of the lands beneath the earth, stretch forth thy hand against Meleagros, my child. He has quenched the love of a mother in my brother's blood, and I will that he should die." And even as she prayed, the awful Erinys, who wanders through the air, heard her words and swore to accomplish the doom. But Meleagros was yet more wrathful when he knew that his mother had laid her curse upon him, and therefore he [639]would not go forth out of his chamber to the aid of his people in the war.

So the Kouretes grew more and more mighty, and their warriors came up against the City of Kalydon, and would no longer suffer the people to come without the walls. And everywhere there was faintness of heart and grief of spirit, for the enemy had wasted their fields and slain the bravest of the men, and little store remained to them of food. Day by day Oineus besought his son, and the great men of the city fell at the knees of Meleagros and prayed him to come out to their help, but he would not hearken. Still he tarried in his chamber with his wife, Kleopatra, by his side, and heeded not the hunger and the wailings of the people. Fiercer and fiercer waxed the roar of war; the loosened stones rolled from the tottering wall, and the battered gates were scarce able to keep out the enemy. Then Kleopatra fell at her husband's knee, and she took him by the hand, and called him gently by his name, and said, "O Meleagros, if thou wilt think of thy wrath, think also of the evils which war brings with it—how when a city is taken, the men are slain, and the mother with her child, the old and the young are borne away into slavery. If the men of Pleuron win the day, thy mother may repent her of the curse which she has laid upon thee; but thou wilt see thy children slain and me a slave."

Then Meleagros started from his couch and seized his spear and shield. He spake no word, but hastened to the walls, and soon the Kouretes fell back before the spear which never missed its mark. Then he gathered the warriors of his city, and bade [640]them open the gates, and went forth against the enemy. Long and dreadful was the battle, but at length the Kouretes turned and fled, and the danger passed away from the men of Kalydon.

But the Moirai still remembered the doom of the burning brand, and the unpitying Erinys had not forgotten the curse of Althaia, and they moved the men of Kalydon to withhold the prize of his good deeds from the chieftain, Meleagros. "He came not forth," they said, "save at the prayer of his wife. He hearkened not when we besought him, he heeded not our misery and tears; why should we give him that which he did not win from any love for us?" So his people were angry with Meleagros, and his spirit grew yet more bitter within him. Once again he lay within his chamber, and his spear and shield hung idle on the wall, and it pleased him more to listen the whole day long to the soft words of Kleopatra than to be doing brave and good deeds for the people of his land.

Then the heart of his mother, Althaia, was more and more turned away from him, so that she said in bitterness of spirit, "What good shall his life now do to me?" and she brought forth the half-burnt brand from its secret place, and cast it on the hearth. Suddenly it burst into a flame, and suddenly the strength of Meleagros began to fail as he lay in the arms of Kleopatra. "My life is wasting within me," he said; "clasp me closer in thine arms; let others lay a curse upon me, so only I die rejoicing in thy love." Weaker and weaker grew his failing breath, but still he looked with loving eyes on the face of Kleopatra, and his spirit went forth with a sigh of gladness, as the last spark of the brand flickered out upon the hearth.

Then was there grief and sorrow in the house of Oineus and through all the City of Kalydon, but they wept and mourned in vain. They thought now of his good deeds, his wise counsels, and his mighty arm, but in vain they bewailed the death of their chieftain in the glory of his age. Yet deeper and more [641]bitter was the sorrow of Althaia, for the love of a mother came back to her heart when the Moirai had accomplished the doom of her child. And yet more bitterly sorrowed his wife, Kleopatra, and yearned for the love which had been torn away from her. There was no more joy within the halls of Oineus, for the Erinys had done their task well. Soon Althaia followed her child to the unknown land, and Kleopatra went forth with joy to meet Meleagros in the dark kingdom of Hades and Persephone.

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IAMOS.

On the banks of Alpheios, Evadne watched over her new-born babe, till she fled away because she feared the wrath of Aipytos, who ruled in Phaisana. The tears streamed down her cheeks as she prayed to Phœbus Apollo, who dwells at Delphi, and said, "Lord of the bright day, look on thy child, and guard him when he lies forsaken, for I may no longer tarry near him."

So Evadne fled away, and Phœbus sent two serpents, who fed the babe with honey as he lay amid the flowers which clustered round him. And ever more and more through all the land went forth the saying of Phœbus, that the child of Evadne should grow up mighty in wisdom and in the power of telling the things that should happen in the time to come. Then Aipytos asked of all who dwelt in his house to tell him where he might find the son of Evadne. But they knew not where the child lay, for the serpents had hidden him far away in the thicket, where the wild flowers sheltered him from wind and heat. Long time they searched amid the tall reeds which clothe the banks of Alpheios, until at last they found the babe lying in a bed of violets. So Aipytos took the child and called his name Iamos, and he grew up brave and wise of heart, [642]pondering well the signs of coming grief and joy, and the tokens of hidden things which he saw in the heaven above him or the wide earth beneath. He spake but little to the youths and maidens who dwelt in the house of Aipytos, but he wandered on the bare hills or by the stream side, musing on many things. And so it came to pass that one night, when the stars glimmered softly in the sky, Iamos plunged beneath the waters of Alpheios, and prayed to Phœbus who dwells at Delphi, and to Poseidon, the lord of the broad sea; and he besought them to open his eyes, that he might reveal to the sons of men the things which of themselves they could not see. Then they led him away to the high rocks which look down on the plain of Pisa, and they said, "Look yonder, child of Evadne, where the white stream of Alpheios winds its way gently to the sea. Here, in the days which are to come, Herakles, the son of the mighty Zeus, shall gather together the sons of Helen, and give them in the solemn games the mightiest of all bonds; hither shall they come to know the will of Zeus, and here shall it be thy work and the work of thy children to read to them the signs which of themselves they can not understand." Then Phœbus Apollo touched his ears, and straightway the voices of the birds spake to him clearly of the things which were to come and he heard their words as a man listens to the speech of his friend. So Iamos prospered exceedingly, for the men of all the Argive land sought aid from his wisdom, and laid rich gifts at his feet. And he taught his children after him to speak the truth and to deal justly, so that none envied their great wealth, and all men spake well of the wise children of Iamos.

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[643]

FINE ARTS.ToC

The artistic instinct is one of the earliest developed in man; the love of representation is evolved at the earliest period; we see it in the child, we see it in the savage, we find traces of it among primitive men. The child in his earliest years loves to trace the forms of objects familiar to his eyes. The savage takes a pleasure in depicting and rudely giving shape to objects which constantly meet his view. The artistic instinct is of all ages and of all climes; it springs up naturally in all countries, and takes its origin alike everywhere in the imitative faculty of man. Evidences of this instinct at the earliest period have been discovered among the relics of primitive men; rough sketches on slate and on stone of the mammoth, the deer, and of man, have been found in the caves of France; the American savage traces rude hunting scenes, or the forms of animals on the covering of his tents, and on his buffalo robes; the savage Australian covers the side of caverns, and the faces of rocks with coarse drawings of animals. We thus find an independent evolution of the art of design, and distinct and separate cycles of its development through the stages of rise, progress, maturity, decline and decay, in many countries the most remote and unconnected with one another. The earliest mode of representing men, animals and objects was in outline and in profile. It is evidently the most primitive style, and characteristic of the commencement of the art, as the first attempts made by children and uncivilized people [644]are solely confined to it; the most inexperienced perceive the object intended to be represented, and no effort is required to comprehend it. Outline figures were thus in all countries the earliest style of painting, and we find this mode practiced at a remote period in Egypt and in Greece. In Egypt we meet paintings in this earliest stage of the art of design in the tombs of Beni Hassan, dating from over 2000 B.C. They are illustrative of the manners and customs of that age. Tradition tells us that the origin of the art of design in Greece was in tracing in outline and in profile the shadow of a human head on the wall and afterwards filling it in so as to present the appearance of a kind of silhouette. The Greek painted vases of the earliest epoch exhibit examples of this style. From this humble beginning the art of design in Greece rose in gradually successive stages, until it reached its highest degree of perfection under the hands of Zeuxis and Apelles.

The interest that attaches to Egyptian art is from its great antiquity. We see it in the first attempts to represent what in after times, and in some other countries, gradually arrived, under better auspices, at the greatest perfection; and we even trace in it the germ of much that was improved upon by those who had a higher appreciation of, and feeling for, the beautiful. For, both in ornamental art, as well as in architecture, Egypt exercised in early times considerable influence over other people less advanced than itself, or only just emerging from barbarism; and the various conventional devices, the lotus flowers, the sphinxes, and other fabulous animals, as well as the early Medusa's head, with a protruding tongue, of the oldest Greek pottery and sculptures, and the ibex, leopard, and above all the (Nile) "goose and sun," on the vases, show them to be connected with, and frequently directly borrowed from, Egyptian fancy. It was, as it still is, the custom of people to borrow from those who have attained to a greater degree of refinement and civilization than themselves; the nation most advanced in art led the taste, and though some had sufficient invention to alter what they adopted, and to render it their own, the original idea may still be traced whenever it has been derived from a foreign source. Egypt was long the dominant nation, and the intercourse established at a very remote period with other countries, through commerce of war, carried abroad the taste of this the most advanced people of the time; and so general seems to have been the fashion of their ornaments, that even the Nineveh marbles present the winged globe, and other well-known Egyptian emblems, as established elements of Assyrian decorative art.

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[646]While Greece was still in its infancy, Egypt had long been the leading nation of the world; she was noted for her magnificence, her wealth, and power, and all acknowledged her pre-eminence in wisdom and civilization. It is not, therefore, surprising that the Greeks should have admitted into their early art some of the forms then most in vogue, and though the wonderful taste of that gifted people speedily raised them to a point of excellence never attained by the Egyptians or any others, the rise and first germs of art and architecture must be sought in the Valley of the Nile. In the oldest monuments of Greece, the sloping or pyramidal line constantly predominates; the columns in the oldest Greek order are almost purely Egyptian, in the proportions of the shaft, and in the form of its shallow flutes without fillets; and it is a remarkable fact that the oldest Egyptian columns are those which bear the closest resemblance to the Greek Doric.

Though great variety was permitted in objects of luxury, as furniture, vases, and other things depending on caprice, the Egyptians were forbidden to introduce any material innovations into the human figure, such as would alter its general character, and all subjects connected with religion retained to the last the same conventional type. A god in the latest temple was of the [647]same form as when represented on monuments of the earliest date; and King Menes would have recognized Amun, or Osiris, in a Ptolemaic or a Roman sanctuary. In sacred subjects the law was inflexible, and religion, which has frequently done so much for the development and direction of taste in sculpture, had the effect of fettering the genius of Egyptian artists. No improvements, resulting from experience and observation, were admitted in the mode of drawing the human figure; to copy nature was not allowed; it was therefore useless to study it, and no attempt was made to give the proper action to the limbs. Certain rules, certain models, had been established by the priesthood, and the faulty conceptions of ignorant times were copied and perpetuated by every successive artist. For, as Plato and Synesius say, the Egyptian sculptors were not suffered to attempt anything contrary to the regulations laid down regarding the figures of the gods; they were forbidden to introduce any change, or to invent new subjects and habits, and thus the art, and the rules which bound it, always remained the same.

Egyptian bas-relief appears to have been, in its origin, a mere copy of painting, its predecessor. The first attempt to represent the figures of gods, sacred emblems, and other subjects, consisted in drawing or painting simple outlines of them on a flat surface, the details being afterwards put in with color; but in process of time these forms were traced on stone with a tool, and the intermediate space between the various figures being afterwards cut away, the once level surface assumed the appearance of a bas-relief. It was, in fact, a pictorial representation on stone, which is evidently the character of all the bas-reliefs on Egyptian monuments, and which readily accounts for the imperfect arrangement of their figures.

Deficient in conception, and above all in a proper knowledge of grouping, they were unable to form those combinations which give true expression; every picture was made up of isolated [648]parts, put together according to some general notions, but without harmony, or preconceived effect. The human face, the whole body, and everything they introduced, were composed in the same manner, of separate members placed together one by one according to their relative situations: the eye, the nose, and other features composed a face, but the expression of feelings and passions was entirely wanting; and the countenance of the King, whether charging an enemy's phalanx in the heat of battle, or peaceably offering incense in a sombre temple, presented the same outline and the same inanimate look. The peculiarity of the front view of an eye, introduced in a profile, is thus accounted for: it was the ordinary representation of that feature added to a profile, and no allowance was made for any change in the position of the head.

It was the same with drapery: the figure was first drawn, and the drapery then added, not as part of the whole, but as an accessory; they had no general conception, no previous idea of the effect required to distinguish the warrior or the priest, beyond the impressions received from costume, or from the subject of which they formed a part, and the same figure was dressed according to the character it was intended to perform. Every portion of a picture was conceived by itself, and inserted as it was wanted to complete the scene; and when the walls of the building, where a subject was to be drawn, had been accurately ruled with squares, the figures were introduced, and fitted to this mechanical arrangement. The members were appended to the body, and these squares regulated their form and distribution, in whatever posture they might be placed.

As long as this conventional system continued, no great change could take place, beyond a slight variation in the proportions, which at one period became more elongated, particularly in the reign of the second Remeses; but still the general form and character of the figures continued the same, which led to the [649]remark of Plato, "that the pictures and statues made ten thousand years ago, are in no one particular better or worse than what they now make." And taken in this limited sense—that no nearer approach to the beau ideal of the human figure, or its real character, was made at one period than another—his remark is true, since they were always bound by the same regulations, which prohibited any change in these matters, even to the latest times, as is evident from the sculptures of the monuments erected after Egypt had long been a Roman province. All was still Egyptian, though of bad style; and if they then attempted to finish the details with more precision, it was only substituting ornament for simplicity; and the endeavor to bring the proportions of the human figure nearer to nature, with the retention of its conventional type, only made its deformity greater, and showed how incompatible the Egyptian was with any other style.

In the composition of modern paintings three objects are required: one main action, one point of view, and one instant of time, and the proportions and harmony of the parts are regulated by perspective, but in Egyptian sculpture these essentials were disregarded; every thing was sacrificed to the principal figure; its colossal dimensions pointed it out as a center to which all the rest was a mere accessory, and, if any other was made equally conspicuous, or of equal size, it was still in a subordinate station, and only intended to illustrate the scene connected with the hero of the piece.

In the paintings of the tombs greater license was allowed in the representation of subjects relating to private life, the trades, or the manners and occupations of the people, and some indication of perspective in the position of the figures may occasionally be observed; but the attempt was imperfect, and, probably, to an Egyptian eye, unpleasing, for such is the force of habit, that even where nature is copied, a conventional style is sometimes preferred to a more accurate representation.

[650]In the battle scenes on the temples of Thebes, some of the figures representing the monarch pursuing the flying enemy, despatching a hostile chief with his sword, and drawing his bow, as his horses carry his car over the prostrate bodies of the slain, are drawn with much spirit, and the position of the arms gives a perfect idea of the action which the artist intended to portray; still, the same imperfections of style, and want of truth, are observed; there is action, but no sentiment, expression of the passions, nor life in the features; it is a figure ready formed, and mechanically varied into movement, and whatever position it is made to assume, the point of view is the same: the identical profile of the human body with the anomaly of the shoulders seen in front. It is a description rather than a representation.

But in their mode of portraying a large crowd of persons they often show great cleverness, and, as their habit was to avoid uniformity, the varied positions of the heads give a truth to the subject without fatiguing the eye. Nor have they any symmetrical arrangement of figures, on opposite sides of a picture, such as we find in some of the very early paintings in Europe.

As their skill increased, the mere figurative representation was extended to that of a descriptive kind, and some resemblance of the hero's person was attempted; his car, the army he commanded, and the flying enemies, were introduced, and what was at first scarcely more than a symbol, aspired to the more exalted form and character of a picture. Of a similar nature were all their historical records, and these pictorial illustrations were a substitute for written documents. Rude drawing and sculpture, indeed, long preceded letters, and we find that even in Greece, to describe, draw, engrave, and write, were expressed by the same word.

Of the quality of the pencils used by the Egyptians for drawing and painting, it is difficult to form any opinion. Those generally employed for writing were a reed or rush, many of [651]which have been found with the tablets or inkstands belonging to the scribes; and with these, too, they probably sketched the figures in red and black upon the stone or stucco of the walls. To put in the color, we may suppose that brushes of some kind were used, but the minute scale on which the painters are represented in the sculptures prevents our deciding the question.

Habits among men of similar occupations are frequently alike, even in the most distant countries, and we find it was not unusual for an Egyptian artist, or scribe, to put his reed pencil behind his ear, when engaged in examining the effect of his painting, or listening to a person on business, like a clerk in the counting-house.

The Etruscans, it is said, cultivated painting before the Greeks, and Pliny attributes to the former a certain degree of perfection before the Greeks had emerged from the infancy of the art. Ancient paintings at Ardea, in Etruria, and at Lanuvium still retained, in the time of Pliny, all their primitive freshness. According to Pliny, paintings of a still earlier date were to be seen at Cære, another Etruscan city. Those paintings mentioned by Pliny were commonly believed to be earlier than the foundation of Rome. At the present day the tombs of Etruria afford examples of Etruscan painting in every stage of its development, from the rudeness and conventionality of early art in the tomb of Veii to the correctness and ease of design, and the more perfect development of the art exhibited in the painted scenes in the tombs of Tarquinii. In one of these tombs the pilasters are profusely adorned with arabesques, and a frieze which runs round the side of the tomb is composed of painted figures draped, winged, armed, fighting, or borne in chariots. The subjects of these paintings are various; in them we find the ideas of the Etruscans on the state of the soul after death, combats of warriors, banquets, funeral scenes. The Etruscans painted also bas-reliefs and statues.

[652]The Greeks carried painting to the highest degree of perfection; their first attempts were long posterior to those of the Egyptians; they do not even date as far back as the epoch of the siege of Troy; and Pliny remarks that Homer does not mention painting. The Greeks always cultivated sculpture in preference. Pausanias enumerates only eighty-eight paintings, and forty-three portraits; he describes, on the other hand, 2,827 statues. These were, in fact, more suitable ornaments to public places, and the gods were always represented in the temple by sculpture. In Greece painting followed the invariable law of development. Its cycle was run through. Painting passed through the successive stages of rise, progress, maturity, decline, and decay. The art of design in Greece is said to have had its origin in Corinth. The legend is: the daughter of Dibutades, a potter of Corinth, struck by the shadow of her lover's head cast by the lamp on the wall, drew its outline, filling it in with a dark shadow. Hence, the earliest mode of representing the human figure was a silhouette. The simplest form of design or drawing was mere outline, or monogrammon, and was invented by Cleanthes, of Corinth. After this the outlines were filled in, and light and shade introduced of one color, and hence were styled mono-chromes. Telephanes, of Sicyon, further improved the art by indicating the principal details of anatomy; Euphantes, of Corinth, or Craton, of Sicyon, by the introduction of color. Cimon, of Cleonæ, is the first who is mentioned as having advanced the art of painting in Greece, and as having emancipated it from its archaic rigidity, by exchanging the conventional manner of rendering the human form for an approach to truthfulness to nature. He also first made muscular articulations, indicated the veins, and gave natural folds to draperies. He is also supposed to have been the first who used a variety of colors, and to have introduced foreshortening. The first painter of great renown was Polygnotus. Accurate drawing, and a noble and distinct [653]manner of characterizing the most different mythological forms was his great merit; his female figures also possessed charms and grace. His large tabular pictures were conceived with great knowledge of legends, and in an earnest religious spirit. At Athens he painted, according to Pausanias, a series of paintings of mythological subjects in the Pinakotheke in the Propylæa on the Acropolis, and pictorial decorations for the temple of Theseus, and the Pœcile. He executed a series of paintings at Delphi on the long walls of the Lesche. The wall to the right on entering the Lesche bore scenes illustrative of the epic myth of the taking of Troy; the left, the visit of Ulysses to the lower world, as described in the Odyssey. Pliny remarks that in place of the old severity and rigidity of the features he introduced a great variety of expression, and was the first to paint figures with the lips open. Lucian attributes to him great improvements in the rendering of drapery so as to show the forms underneath. Apollodorus, of Athens, was the first great master of light and shade. According to Pliny he was the first to paint men and things as they really appear. A more advanced stage of improved painting began with Zeuxis, in which art aimed at illusion of the senses and the rendering of external charms. He appears to have been equally distinguished in the representation of female charms, and of the sublime majesty of Zeus on his throne. His masterpiece was his picture of Helen, in painting which he had as his models the five most beautiful virgins of Croton.

Neither the place nor date of the birth of Zeuxis can be accurately ascertained, though he was probably born about 455 B.C., since thirty years after that date we find him practicing his art with great success at Athens. He was patronized by Archelaus, King of Macedonia, and spent some time at his court. He must also have visited Magna Græcia, as he painted his celebrated picture of Helen for the City of Croton. He acquired [654]great wealth by his pencil, and was very ostentatious in displaying it. He appeared at Olympia in a magnificent robe, having his name embroidered in letters of gold, and the same vanity is also displayed in the anecdote that, after he had reached the summit of his fame, he no longer sold, but gave away, his pictures, as being above all price. With regard to his style of art, single figures were his favorite subjects. He could depict gods or heroes with sufficient majesty, but he particularly excelled in painting the softer graces of female beauty. In one important respect he appears to have degenerated from the style of Polygnotus, his idealism being rather that of form than of character and expression. Thus his style is analogous to that of Euripides in tragedy. He was a great master of color, and his paintings were sometimes so accurate and life-like as to amount to illusion. This is exemplified in the story told of him and Parrhasius. As a trial of skill, these artists painted two pictures. That of Zeuxis represented a bunch of grapes, and was so naturally executed that the birds came and pecked at it. After this proof, Zeuxis, confident of success, called upon his rival to draw aside the curtain which concealed his picture. But the painting of Parrhasius was the curtain itself, and Zeuxis was now obliged to acknowledge himself vanquished, for, though he had deceived birds, Parrhasius had deceived the author of the deception. But many of the pictures of Zeuxis also displayed great dramatic power. He worked very slowly and carefully, and he is said to have replied to somebody who blamed him for his slowness, "It is true I take a long time to paint, but then I paint works to last a long time." His master-piece was the picture of Helen, already mentioned.

Parrhasius was a native of Ephesus, but his art was chiefly exercised at Athens, where he was presented with the right of citizenship. His date can not be accurately ascertained, but he was probably rather younger than his contemporary, Zeuxis, and [655]it is certain that he enjoyed a high reputation before the death of Socrates. The style and degree of excellence attained by Parrhasius appear to have been much the same as those of Zeuxis. He was particularly celebrated for the accuracy of his drawing, and the excellent proportions of his figures. For these he established a canon, as Phidias had done in sculpture for gods, and Polycletus for the human figure, whence Quintilian calls him the legislator of his art. His vanity seems to have been as remarkable as that of Zeuxis. Among the most celebrated of his works was a portrait of the personified Athenian Demos, [656]which is said to have miraculously expressed even the most contradictory qualities of that many-headed personage.

Parrhasius excelled in giving a roundness and a beautiful contour to his figures, and was remarkable for the richness and variety of his creations. His numerous pictures of gods and heroes attained the highest consideration in art. He was overcome, however, in a pictorial contest, in which the subject was the contest of Ulysses and Ajax for the arms of Achilles, by the ingenious Timanthes, in whose sacrifice of Iphigenia the ancients admired the expression of grief carried to that pitch of intensity at which art had only dared to hint. The most striking feature in the picture was the concealment of the face of Agamemnon in his mantle. (The concealment of the face of Agamemnon in this picture has been generally considered as a "trick" or ingenious invention of Timanthes, when it was the result of a fundamental law in Greek art—to represent alone what was beautiful, and never to present to the eye anything repulsive or disagreeable; the features of a father convulsed with grief would not have been a pleasing object to gaze on; hence the painter, fully conscious of the laws of his art, concealed the countenance of Agamemnon.) Timanthes was distinguished for his invention and expression. Before all, however, ranks the great Apelles, who united the advantages of his native Ionia—grace, sensual charms, and rich coloring—with the scientific accuracy of the Sicyonian school. The most prominent characteristic of his style was grace (charis), a quality which he himself avowed as peculiarly his, and which serves to unite all the other gifts and faculties which the painter requires; perhaps in none of his pictures was it exhibited in such perfection as in his famous Anadyomene, in which Aphrodite is represented rising out of the sea, and wringing the wet out of her hair. But heroic subjects were likewise adapted to his genius, especially grandly-conceived portraits, such as the numerous likenesses of [657]Alexander, by whom he was warmly patronized. He not only represented Alexander with the thunderbolt in his hand, but he even attempted, as the master in light and shade, to paint thunderstorms, probably at the same time as natural scenes and mythological personifications. The Anadyomene, originally painted for the temple of Æsculapius, at Cos, was transferred by Augustus to the temple of D. Julius, at Rome, where, however, it was in a decayed state even at the time of Nero. Contemporaneously with him flourished Protogenes and Nicias. Protogenes was both a painter and a statuary, and was celebrated for the high finish of his works. His master-piece was the picture of Ialysus, the tutelary hero of Rhodes, where he lived. He is said to have spent seven years on it. Nicias, of Athens, was celebrated for the delicacy with which he painted females. He was also famous as an encaustic painter, and was employed by Praxiteles to apply his art to his statues. The glorious art of these masters, as far as regards light, tone, and local colors, is lost to us, and we know nothing of it except from obscure notices and later imitations. It is not thus necessary to speak at length of the various schools of painting in Greece, their works being all lost, the knowledge of the characteristics peculiar to each school would be at the present day perfectly useless. Painting had to follow the invariable law of all development; having reached a period of maturity, it followed, as a necessary consequence, that the period of decline should begin. The art of this period of refinement, Mr. Wornum writes, which has been termed the Alexandrian, because the most celebrated artist of this period lived about the time of Alexander the Great, was the last of progression, or acquisition, but it only added variety of effect to the tones it could not improve, and was principally characterized by the diversity of the styles of so many contemporary artists. The decadence of the arts immediately succeeded, the necessary consequence, when, instead of excellence, variety and originality [658]became the end of the artist. The tendencies which are peculiar to this period gave birth sometimes to pictures which ministered to a low sensuality; sometimes to works which attracted by their effects of light, and also to caricatures and travesties of mythological subjects. The artists of this period were under the necessity of attracting attention by novelty and variety; thus rhyparography, and the lower classes of art, attained the ascendency, and became the characteristic styles of the period. In these Pyreieus was pre-eminent; he was termed rhyparographos, on account of the mean quality of his subjects. After the destruction of Corinth by Mummius and the spoliation of Athens by Sylla the art of painting experienced a rapid and total decay.

We shall now make a few extracts from Mr. Wornum's excellent article on the vehicles, materials, colors, and methods of painting used by the Greeks.

The Greeks painted with wax, resins, and in water-colors, to which they gave a proper consistency, according to the material upon which they painted, with gum, glue, and the white of egg; gum and glue were the most common.

They painted upon wood, clay, plaster, stone, parchment, and canvas. They generally painted upon panels or tables, and very rarely upon walls; and an easel, similar to what is now used, was common among the ancients. These panels, when finished, were fixed into frames of various descriptions and materials, and encased in walls. The ancients used also a palette very similar to that used by the moderns, as is sufficiently attested by a fresco painting from Pompeii, which represents a female painting a copy of Hermes, for a votive tablet, with a palette in her left hand.

The earlier Grecian masters used only four colors: the earth of Melos for white; Attic ochre for yellow; Sinopis, an earth from Pontus, for red; and lamp-black; and it was with these simple elements that Zeuxis, Polygnotus, and others of that age, [659]executed their celebrated works. By degrees new coloring substances were found, such as were used by Apelles and Protogenes.

So great, indeed, is the number of pigments mentioned by ancient authors, and such the beauty of them, that it is very doubtful whether, with all the help of modern science, modern artists possess any advantage in this respect over their predecessors.

We now give the following list of colors, known to be generally used by ancient painters:

Red.—The ancient reds were very numerous, cinnabar, vermilion, bisulphuret of mercury, called also by Pliny and Vitruvius, minium. The cinnabaris indica, mentioned by Pliny and Dioscorides, was what is vulgarly called dragon's blood, the resin obtained from various species of the calamus palm. Miltos seems to have had various significations; it was used for cinnabaris, minium, red lead, and rubrica, red ochre. There were various kinds of rubricæ; all were, however, red oxides, of which the best were the Lemnian, from the Isle of Lemnos, and the Cappadocian, called by the Romans rubrica sinopica, from Sinope in Paphlagonia. Minium, red oxide of lead, red lead, was called by the Romans cerussa usta, and, according to Vitruvius, sandaracha.

The Roman sandaracha seems to have had various significations. Pliny speaks of the different shades of sandaracha; there was also a compound color of equal parts of sandaracha and rubrica calcined, called sandyx, which Sir H. Davy supposed to approach our crimson in tint; in painting it was frequently glazed with purple, to give it additional lustre.

Yellow.—Yellow-ochre, hydrated peroxide of iron, the sil of the Romans, formed the base of many other yellows, mixed with various colors and carbonate of lime. Ochre was procured from different parts—the Attic was considered the best; sometimes the paler sort of sandaracha was used for yellow.

[660]Green.—Chrysocolla, which appears to have been green carbonate of copper, or malachite (green verditer), was the green most approved of by the ancients; there was also an artificial kind which was made from clay impregnated with sulphate of copper (blue vitriol) rendered green by a yellow dye. The commonest and cheapest colors were the Appianum, which was a clay, and the creta viridis, the common green earth of Verona.

Blue.—The ancient blues were very numerous; the principal of these was cœruleum, azure, a species of verditer, or blue carbonate of copper, of which there were many varieties. The Alexandrian was the most valued, as approaching the nearest to ultramarine. It was also manufactured at Pozzuoli. This imitation was called cœlon. Armenium was a metallic color, and was prepared by being ground to an impalpable powder. It was of a light blue color. It has been conjectured that ultramarine (lapis lazuli) was known to the ancients under the name of Armenium, from Armenia, whence it was procured. It is evident, however, from Pliny's description, that the "sapphirus" of the ancients was the lapis lazuli of the present day. It came from Media.

Indigo, indicum, was well known to the ancients.

Purple.—The ancients had several kinds of purple, purpurissimum, ostrum, hysginum, and various compound colors. Purpurissimum was made from creta argentaria, a fine chalk or clay, steeped in a purple dye, obtained from the murex. In color it ranged between minium and blue, and included every degree in the scale of purple shades. The best sort came from Pozzuoli. Purpurissimum indicum was brought from India. It was of a deep blue, and probably was the same as indigo. Ostrum was a liquid color, to which the proper consistence was given by adding honey. It was produced from the secretion of a fish called ostrum, and differed in tint according to the country from whence it came; being deeper and more violet when [661]brought from the northern, redder when from the southern coasts of the Mediterranean. The Roman ostrum was a compound of red ochre and blue oxide of copper. Hysginum, according to Vitruvius, is a color between scarlet and purple. The celebrated Tyrian dye was a dark, rich purple, of the color of coagulated blood, but, when held against the light, showed a crimson hue. It was produced by a combination of the secretions of the murex and buccinum. In preparing the dye the buccinum was used last, the dye of the murex being necessary to render the colors fast, while the buccinum enlivened by its tint of red the dark hue of the murex. Sir H. Davy, on examining a rose-colored substance, found in the baths of Titus, which in its interior had a lustre approaching to that of carmine, considered it a specimen of the best Tyrian purple. The purpura, as mentioned in Pliny, was an amethyst or violet color.

Brown.—Ochra usta, burnt ochre.—The browns were ochres calcined, oxides of iron and manganese, and compounds of ochres and blacks.

Black.—Atramentum, or black, was of two sorts, natural and artificial. The natural was made from a black earth, or from the secretion of the cuttle-fish, sepia. The artificial was made of the dregs of wine carbonized, calcined ivory, or lamp-black. The atramentum indicum, mentioned by Pliny, was probably the Chinese Indian ink.

White.—The ordinary Greek white was melinum, an earth from the Isle of Melos; for fresco-painting the best was the African parœtonium. There was also a white earth of Eretria and the annularian white. Carbonate of lead, or white lead, cerussa, was apparently not much used by the ancient painters. It has not been found in any of the remains of painting in Roman ruins.

Methods of Painting.—There were two distinct classes of painting practiced by the ancients—in water colors and in wax, [662]both of which were practiced in various ways. Of the former the principal were fresco, al fresco; and the various kinds of distemper (a tempera), with glue, with the white of egg, or with gums (a guazzo); and with wax or resins when these were rendered by any means vehicles that could be worked with water. Of the latter the principal was through fire, termed encaustic.

Fresco was probably little employed by the ancients for works of imitative art, but it appears to have been the ordinary method of simply coloring walls, especially amongst the Romans. Coloring al fresco, in which the colors were mixed simply in water, as the term implies, was applied when the composition of the stucco on the walls was still wet (udo tectorio), and on that account was limited to certain colors, for no colors except earths can be employed in this way.

The fresco walls, when painted, were covered with an encaustic varnish, both to heighten the colors and to preserve them from the injurious effects of the sun or the weather. Vitruvius describes the process as a Greek practice. When the wall was colored and dry, Punic wax, melted and tempered with a little oil, was rubbed over it with a hard brush (seta); this was made smooth and even by applying a cauterium or an iron pan, filled with live coals, over the surface, as near to it as was just necessary to melt the wax; it was then rubbed with a candle (wax) and a clean cloth. In encaustic painting the wax colors were burnt into the ground by means of a hot iron (called cauterium) or pan of hot coals being held near the surface of the picture. The mere process of burning in constitutes the whole difference between encaustic and the ordinary method of painting with wax colors.

We shall now say a few words with regard to the much canvassed question of painting or coloring statues. Its antiquity and universality admit of no doubt. Indeed, the practice of painting statues is a characteristic of a primitive and [663]workmanship of clay or wood. It was a survival of the old religious practices of daubing the early statues of the gods with vermilion, and was done to meet the superstitious tastes of the uneducated. Statues for religious purposes may have been painted in obedience to a formula prescribed by religion, but statues as objects of art, on which the sculptor exhibited all his genius and taste, were unquestionably executed in the pure and uncolored marble alone. In the chryselephantine, or ivory statues of Jove and Minerva, by Phidias, art was made a handmaid to religion. Phidias himself would have preferred to have executed them in marble.

We may further remark that form, in its purest ideal, being the chief aim of sculpture, any application of color, which would detract from the purity and ideality of this purest of the arts, could never be agreeable to refined taste. Coloring sculpture and giving it a life-like reality is manifestly trenching on the province of painting, and so departing from the true principle of sculpture, which is to give form in its most perfect and idealized development. We must also consider that sculpture in marble, by its whiteness, is calculated for the display of light and shade. For this reason statues and bas-reliefs were placed either in the open light to receive the direct rays of the sun, or in underground places, or thermæ, where they received their light either from an upper window, or, by night, from the strong light of a lamp, the sculptor having for that purpose studied the effects of the shadows. It must also be remembered that the statues in Greek and Roman temples received their light from the upper part of the building, many of the temples being hypæthral, thus having the benefit of a top light, the sculptor's chief aim. Color in these statues or bas-reliefs would have tended to mar the contrasts of light and shade, and blended them too much; for example, color a photograph of a statue, which exhibits a marked contrast of light and shade, and it will tend to confuse and blend [664]the two. The taste for polychrome sculpture in the period of the decline of art was obviously but a returning to the primitive imperfection of art, when an attempt was made to produce illusion in order to please the uneducated taste of the vulgar.

The Romans derived their knowledge of painting from the Etruscans, their ancestors and neighbors; the first Grecian painters who came to Italy are said to have been brought over by Demaratus, the father of Tarquinius Priscus, King of Rome; at all events Etruria appears to have exercised extensive influence over the arts of Rome during the reign of the Tarquins. Tradition attributes to them the first works which were used to adorn the temples of Rome, and, according to Pliny, not much consideration was bestowed either on the arts or on the artists. Fabius, the first among the Romans, had some painting executed in the temple of Salus, from which he received the name of Pictor. The works of art brought from Corinth by Mummius, from Athens by Sulla, and from Syracuse by Marcellus, introduced a taste for paintings and statues in their public buildings, which eventually became an absorbing passion with many distinguished Romans. Towards the end of the republic Rome was full of painters. Julius Cæsar, Agrippa, Augustus, were among the earliest great patrons of artists. Suetonius informs us that Cæsar expended great sums in the purchase of pictures by the old masters. Under Augustus, Marcus Ludius painted marine subjects, landscape decorations, and historic landscape as ornamentation for the apartments of villas and country houses. He invented that style of decoration which we now call arabesque or grotesque. It spread rapidly, insomuch that the baths of Titus and Livia, the remains discovered at Cumæ, Pozzuoli, Herculaneum, Stabiæ, Pompeii, in short, whatever buildings about that date have been found in good preservation, afford numerous and beautiful examples of it. At this time, also, a passion for portrait painting prevailed; an art which flattered [665]their vanity was more suited to the tastes of the Romans than the art which could produce beautiful and refined works similar to those of Greece. Portraits must have been exceedingly numerous; Varro made a collection of the portraits of 700 eminent men. Portraits, decorative and scene painting, seem to have engrossed the art. The example, or rather the pretensions, of Nero must also have contributed to encourage painting in Rome; but Roman artists were, however, but few in number; the victories of the consuls, and the rapine of the prætors, were sufficient to adorn Rome with all the master-pieces of Greece and Italy. They introduced the fashion of having a taste for the beautiful works of Greek art. At a later period, such was the corrupt state of taste, that painting was almost left to be practiced by slaves, and the painter was estimated by the quantity of work that he could do in a day.

The remains of painting found at Pompeii, Herculaneum, and in the baths of Titus, at Rome, are the only paintings which can give us any idea of the coloring and painting of the ancients, which, though they exhibit many beauties, particularly in composition, are evidently the works of inferior artists in a period of decline. At Pompeii there is scarcely a house the walls of which are not decorated with fresco paintings. The smallest apartments were lined with stucco, painted in the most brilliant and endless variety of colors, in compartments simply tinted with a light ground, surrounded by an ornamental margin, and sometimes embellished with a single figure or subject in the center, or at equal distances. These paintings are very frequently historical or mythological, but embrace every variety of subject, some of the most exquisite beauty. Landscape painting was never a favorite with the ancients, and if ever introduced in a painting, was subordinate. The end and aim of painting among the ancients was to represent and illustrate the myths of the gods, the deeds of heroes, and [666]important historical events, hence giving all prominence to the delineation of the human form. Landscape, on the other hand, illustrated nothing, represented no important event deserving of record, and was thus totally without significance in a Grecian temple or pinacotheca. In an age of decline, as at Pompeii, it was employed for mere decorative purposes. Many architectural subjects are continually found in which it is easy to trace the true principles of perspective, but they are rather indicated than minutely expressed or accurately displayed; whereas in most instances a total want of the knowledge of this art is but too evident. Greek artists seem to have been employed; indeed, native painters were few, while the former everywhere abounded, and their superiority in design must have always insured them the preference.

The subjects of Roman mural paintings are usually Greek myths; in the composition and style we see Greek conception, modified by Roman influence. The style of drawing is rather dexterous than masterly; rapidity of execution seems to be more prized than faithful, conscientious representation of the truth of nature; the drawing is generally careless, and effects are sometimes produced by tricks and expedients, which belong rather to scene-painting than to the higher branches of art. It must not, however, be forgotten that the majority of these pictures were architectural decorations, not meant to be regarded as independent compositions, but as parts of larger compositions, in which they were inserted as in a frame. As examples of ancient coloring they are of the highest interest, and much may be learnt from them in reference to the technical materials and processes employed by ancient artists.

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[667]

Sculpturing.

We do not intend to enter here on the history of sculpture in all its phases, but to give the distinctive features which characterize the different styles of Egyptian, Greek, and Roman sculpture, as they are visible in statues of the natural or colossal size, in statues of lesser proportion, and lastly in busts and bas-reliefs.

We shall give also the styles of each separate nation which prevailed at each distinct age or epoch, styles which mark the stages of the development of the art of sculpture in all countries. Sculpture, like architecture and painting, indeed all art, had an indigenous and independent evolution in all countries, all these arts springing up naturally, and taking their origin alike everywhere in the imitative faculty of man. They had their stages of development in the ascending and descending scales, their rise, progress, culminating point, decline and decay, their cycle of development; the sequence of these stages being necessarily developed wherever the spirit of art has arisen, and has had growth and progress. The first and most important step in examining a work of ancient sculpture is to distinguish with certainty whether it is of Egyptian, Etruscan, Greek, or Roman workmanship; and this distinction rests entirely on a profound knowledge of the style peculiar to each of those nations. The next step is, from its characteristic features, to distinguish what period, epoch, or stage of the development of the art of that particular nation it belongs to. We shall further give the various attributes and characteristics of the gods, goddesses, and other mythological [668]personages which distinguish the various statues visible in Egyptian, Etruscan, Greek, and Roman sculpture.

This enumeration will be found of use in the many sculpture galleries of the various museums both at home and abroad.

Man attempted sculpture long before he studied architecture; a simple hut, or a rude house, answered every purpose as a place of abode, and a long time elapsed before he sought to invent what was not demanded by necessity.

Architecture is a creation of the mind; it has no model in nature, and it requires great imaginative powers to conceive its ideal beauties, to make a proper combination of parts, and to judge of the harmony of forms altogether new and beyond the reach of experience. But the desire in man to imitate and to record what has passed before his eyes, in short, to transfer the impression from his own mind to another, is natural in every stage of society; and however imperfectly he may succeed in representing the objects themselves, his attempts to indicate their relative position, and to embody the expression of his own ideas, are a source of the highest satisfaction.

As the wish to record events gave the first, religion gave the second impulse to sculpture. The simple pillar of wood or stone, which was originally chosen to represent the deity, afterwards assumed the human form, the noblest image of the power that created it; though the Hermæ of Greece were not, as some have thought, the origin of statues, but were borrowed from the mummy-shaped gods of Egypt.

Pausanias thinks that "all statues were in ancient times of wood, particularly those made in Egypt;" but this must have been at a period so remote as to be far beyond the known history of that country; though it is probable that when the arts were in their infancy the Egyptians were confined to statues of that kind; and they occasionally erected wooden figures in their temples, even till the times of the latter Pharaohs.

[669]Long after men had attempted to make out the parts of the figure, statues continued to be very rude; the arms were placed directly down the side of the thighs, and the legs were united together; nor did they pass beyond this imperfect state in Greece, until the age of Dædalus. Fortunately for themselves and for the world, the Greeks were allowed to free themselves from old habits, while the Egyptians, at the latest periods, continued to follow the imperfect models of their early artists, and were forever prevented from arriving at excellence in sculpture; and though they made great progress in other branches of art, though they evinced considerable taste in the forms of their vases, their furniture, and even in some architectural details, they were forever deficient in ideal beauty, and in the mode of representing the natural positions of the human figure.

In Egypt the prescribed automaton character of the figures effectually prevented all advancement in the statuary's art; the limbs being straight, without any attempt at action, or, indeed, any indication of life; they were really statues of the person they represented, not the person "living in marble," in which they differed entirely from those of Greece. No statue of a warrior was sculptured in the varied attitudes of attack and defence; no wrestler, no discobolus, no pugilist exhibited the grace, the vigor, or the muscular action of a man; nor were the beauties, the feeling, and the elegance of female forms displayed in stone: all was made to conform to the same invariable model, which confined the human figure to a few conventional postures.

A sitting statue, whether of a man or woman, was represented with the hands placed upon the knees, or held across the breast; a kneeling figure sometimes supported a small shrine or sacred emblem; and when standing the arms were placed directly down the sides of the thighs, one foot (and that always the left) being advanced beyond the other, as if in the attitude of walking, but without any attempt to separate the legs.

[670]The oldest Egyptian sculptures on all large monuments were in low relief, and, as usual at every period, painted (obelisks and everything carved in hard stone, some funeral tablets, and other small objects, being in intaglio); and this style continued in vogue until the time of Remeses II., who introduced intaglio very generally on large monuments; and even his battle scenes at Karnac and the Memnonium are executed in this manner. The reliefs were little raised above the level of the wall; they had generally a flat surface with the edges softly rounded off, far surpassing the intaglio in effect; and it is to be regretted that the best epoch of art, when design and execution were in their zenith, should have abandoned a style so superior; which, too, would have improved in proportion to the advancement of that period.

After the accession of the twenty-sixth dynasty some attempt was made to revive the arts, which had been long neglected; and, independent of the patronage of government, the wealth of private individuals was liberally employed in their encouragement. Public buildings were erected in many parts of Egypt, and beautified with rich sculpture; the City of Sais, the royal residence of the Pharaohs of that dynasty, was adorned with the utmost magnificence, and extensive additions were made to the temples of Memphis, and even to those of the distant Thebes.

The fresh impulse thus given to art was not without effect; the sculptures of that period exhibit an elegance and beauty which might even induce some to consider them equal to the productions of an earlier age, and in the tombs of the Assaseef, at Thebes, are many admirable specimens of Egyptian art. To those, however, who understand the true feeling of this peculiar school, it is evident, that though in minuteness and finish they are deserving of the highest commendation, yet in grandeur of conception and in boldness of execution they fall far short of the sculptures of Sethos and the second Remeses.

[671]The skill of the Egyptian artists in drawing bold and clear outlines is, perhaps, more worthy of admiration than anything connected with this branch of art, and in no place is the freedom of their drawing more conspicuous than in the figures in the unfinished part of Belzoni's tomb, at Thebes. It was in the drawing alone that they excelled, being totally ignorant of the correct mode of coloring a figure, and their painting was not an imitation of nature, but merely the harmonious combination of certain hues, which they well understood. Indeed, to this day the harmony of positive colors is thoroughly felt in Egypt and the East, and it is strange to find the little perception of it in Northern Europe, where theories take upon themselves to explain to the mind what the eye has not yet learned, as if a grammar could be written before the language is understood.

A remarkable feature of Egyptian sculpture is the frequent representation of their Kings in a colossal form. The two most famous colossi are the seated figures in the plain of Thebes. One is recognized to be the vocal Memnon (Amunoph III.) mentioned by Strabo. They are forty-seven feet high, and measure about eighteen feet three inches across the shoulders. But the grandest and largest colossal statue was the stupendous statue of King Remeses II., a Syenite granite, in the Memnonium, at Thebes. It represented the King seated on a throne, in the usual attitude of Kings, the hands resting on his knees. It is now in fragments. It measured twenty-two feet four inches across the shoulders. According to Sir G. Wilkinson, the whole mass, when entire, must have weighed about 887 tons. A colossal statue of Remeses II. lies with his face upon the ground on the site of Memphis; it was placed before the temple of Pthah. Its total height is estimated at forty-two feet eight inches, without the pedestal. It is of white siliceous limestone. Another well-known colossus is the statue of the so-called Memnon, now in the British Museum. It is supposed to be the [672]statue of Remeses II. It was brought by Belzoni from the Memnonium, at Thebes.

In the different epochs of Egyptian sculpture, the Egyptian artists were bound by certain fixed canons or rules of proportion to guide them in their labors, and which they were obliged to adhere to rigidly. The following are the canons of three distinct epochs: 1. The canon of the time of the pyramids, the height was reckoned at six feet from the sole of the foot to the crown of the head, and subdivisions obtained by one-half or one-third of a foot. 2. The canon from the twelfth to the twenty-second dynasty is only an extension of the first. The whole figure was contained in a number of squares of half a foot, and the whole height divided into eighteen parts. In these two canons the height above the sixth foot is not reckoned. 3. The canon of the age of Psammetici, which is mentioned by Diodorus, reckoning the entire height at twenty-one and one-fourth feet from the sole to the crown of the head, taken to the upper part. The proportions are different, but without any introduction of the Greek canon. The canon and the leading lines were originally traced in red, subsequently corrected by the principal artist in black, and the design then executed. In Egypt, almost every object of sculpture and architecture was painted. The colossal Egyptian statues are generally of granite, basalt, porphyry, or sandstone. The two colossi on the plain of Thebes are, of course, hard gritstone. The Egyptians also worked in dark and red granites, breccias, serpentines, arragonite, limestones, jaspers, feldspar, cornelian, glass, gold, silver, bronze, lead, iron, the hard woods, fir or cedar, sycamore, ebony, acacia, porcelain and ivory, and terra cotta. All objects, from the most gigantic obelisk to the minute articles of private life, are found decorated with hieroglyphics.

Egyptian sculptors were also remarkable for the correct and excellent representation of animals. They may, indeed, be [673]noticed in their representation a freedom of hand, a choice and variety of forms, a truthfulness, and even what deserves to be called imitation, which contrast with the uniformity, the rigidity, the absence of nature and life, which human figures present. Plato mentions a law which forbade the artists to depart, in the slightest degree, in the execution of statues of the human form from the type consecrated by priestly authority. The artist, therefore, not being restricted in his study of the animal form, could thus give to his image greater variety of motion, and by imitating animals in nature, indemnify himself for the constraint he experienced when he represented Kings and priests. The two colossal lions in red granite, brought to England by the late Duke of Northumberland, may be considered as remarkably good specimens of Egyptian art, as applied to the delineation of animal forms. They evince a considerable knowledge of anatomy in the strongly-marked delineation of the muscular development. The form also is natural and easy, thus admirably expressing the idea of strength in a state of repose. They were sculptured in the reign of Amunoph III. The representations of the sacred animals, the cynocephalus, the lion, the jackal, the ram, etc., are frequently to be met with in Egyptian sculpture.

Greek.—The stages of the cycle of development of the art of sculpture in Greece may be given in five distinct periods or epochs, naming these, for greater convenience, chiefly from the name of the principal artist whose style prevailed at that period.

Prior to the age of Dædalus, there was an earlier stage in the development of art, in which the want of art, which is peculiar to that early stage, was exhibited in rude attempts at the [674]representation of the human figure, for similar and almost identical rude representations are attempted in the early stages of art in all countries; as the early attempts of children are nearly identical in all ages. The presence of a god was indicated in a manner akin to the Fetichism of the African, by the simplest and most shapeless objects, such as unhewn blocks of stone and by simple pillars or pieces of wood. The first attempt at representation consisted in fashioning a block of stone or wood into some semblance of the human form, and this rude attempt constituted a divinity. Of this primitive form was the Venus of Cyprus, the Cupid of Thespiæ; the Juno of Argos was fashioned in a similar rude manner from the trunk of a wild pear tree. These attempts were thus nothing more than shapeless blocks, the head, arms, and legs scarcely defined. Some of these wooden blocks are supposed to have been, in a coarse attempt at imitation, furnished with real hair, and to have been clothed with real draperies in order to conceal the imperfection of the form. The next step was to give these shapeless blocks a human form. The upper part assumed the likeness of a head, and by degrees arms and legs were marked out; but in these early imitations of the human figure the arms were, doubtless, represented closely attached to the sides; and the legs, though to a certain extent defined, were still connected and united in a common pillar.

The age of Dædalus marks an improvement in the modeling of the human figure, and in giving it life and action. This improvement in the art consisted in representing the human figure with the arms isolated from the body, the legs detached, and the eyes open; in fine, giving it an appearance of nature as well as of life, and thus introducing a principle of imitation. This important progress in the practice of the art is the characteristic feature of the school of Dædalus, for under the name of Dædalus we must understand the art of sculpture itself in its primitive [675]form, and in its first stage of development. According to Flaxman, the rude efforts of this age were intended to represent divinities and heroes only—Jupiter, Neptune, Hercules, and several heroic characters, had the self-same face, figure, and action; the same narrow eyes, thin lips, with the corners of the mouth turned upwards; the pointed chin, narrow loins, turgid muscles; the same advancing position of the lower limbs; the right hand raised beside the head, and the left extended. Their only distinctions were that Jupiter held the thunderbolt, Neptune the trident, and Hercules a palm branch or bow. The female divinities were clothed in draperies divided into few and perpendicular folds, their attitudes advancing like those of the male figures. The hair of both male and female statues of this period is arranged with great care, collected in a club behind, sometimes entirely curled.

Between the rudeness of the Dædalean and the hard and severe style of the Æginetan there was a transitional style, to which period the artists Dipœnus and Scyllis are assigned by Pliny. The metopes of the temple of Selinus in Sicily, the bas-reliefs representing Agamemnon, Epeus, and Talthybius, in the Louvre, the Harpy monument in the British Museum, and the Apollo of Tenea, afford examples of this style.

Æginetan.—In the Æginetan period of sculpture there was still retained in the character of the heads, in the details of the costume, and in the manner in which the beard and the hair are treated, something archaic and conventional, undoubtedly derived from the habits and teachings of the primitive school. But there prevails at the same time, in the execution of the human form, and the manner in which the nude is treated, a knowledge of anatomy, and an excellence of imitation carried to so high a degree of truth as to give convincing proofs of an advanced step and higher stage in the development of the art. The following are the principal characteristics of the Æginetan [676]style, as derived from a careful examination of the statues found in Ægina, which were the undoubted productions of the school of the Æginetan period. The style in which they are executed is called Hieratic, or Archaic.

The heads, either totally destitute of expression, or all reduced to a general and conventional expression, present, in the oblique position of the eyes and mouth, that forced smile which seems to have been the characteristic feature common to all productions of this archaic style; for we find it also on the most ancient medals, and on bas-reliefs of the primitive period.

The hair, treated likewise in a systematic manner in small curls or plaits, worked with wonderful industry, imitates not real hair, but genuine wigs, a peculiarity which may be remarked on other works in the ancient style, and of Etruscan origin. The beard is indicated on the cheek by a deep mark, and is rarely worked in relief, but, in the latter case, so as to imitate a false beard, and consequently in the same system as the hair. The costume partakes of the same conventional and hieratic taste; it consists of drapery, with straight and regular folds, falling in symmetrical and parallel masses, so as to imitate the real draperies in which the ancient statues in wood were draped. These conventional forms of the drapery and hair may, therefore, be considered as deriving their origin from an imitation of the early statues in wood, the first objects of worship and of art among the Greeks, which were frequently covered with false hair, and clothed with real draperies. The muscular development observable in these figures is somewhat exaggerated, but, considering the period, is wonderfully accurate and true to nature. The genius for imitation exhibited in this style, carried as far as it is possible in the expression of the forms of the body, although still accompanied by a little meagreness and dryness, the truth of detail, the exquisite care in the execution, evince so profound a knowledge of the structure of the human body, so [677]great a readiness of hand—in a word, an imitation of nature so skillful, and, at the same time, so simple, that one can not but recognize in them the productions of an art which had arrived at a point which required only a few steps more to reach perfection. To the latter part of this period belong the sculptors Canachus, Calamis, and Pythagoras. Canachus was the sculptor of a famous statue of a nude Apollo in bronze, termed Philesius, at Didymi, near Miletus, and was considered as very hard in his style.

Phidian.—"This period (we here adopt Mr. Vaux's words) is the golden age of Greek art. During this period arose a spirit of sculpture which combined grace and majesty in the happiest manner, and by emancipating the plastic art from the fetters of antique stiffness, attained, under the direction of Pericles, and by the hand of Phidias, its culminating point. It is curious to remark the gradual progress of the arts; for it is clear that it was slowly and not per saltum that the gravity of the elder school was changed to the perfect style of the age of Phidias." In this phase of the art, the ideal had reached its zenith, and we behold a beauty and perfection which has never been equaled. In this age alone sculpture, by the grandeur and sublimity it had attained to in its style, was qualified to give a form to the sublime conceptions of the deity evolved by the mind of Phidias. He alone was considered able to embody and to render manifest to the eye the sublime images of Homer. Hence, he was called "the sculptor of the gods." It is well known that in the conception of his Jupiter Olympus, Phidias wished to render manifest, and that he succeeded in realizing, the sublime image under which Homer represents the master of the gods. The sculptor embodied that image in the following manner, according to Pausanias: "The god, made of ivory and gold, is seated on a throne, his head crowned with a branch of olive, his right hand presented a Victory of ivory and gold, with a crown and fillet; his left [678]hand held a sceptre, studded with all kinds of metals, on which an eagle sat; the sandals of the god were gold, so was his drapery, on which were various animals, with flowers of all kinds, especially lilies; his throne was richly wrought with gold and precious stones. There were also statues; four Victories, alighting, were at each foot of the throne; those in front rested each on a sphinx that had seized a Theban youth; below the sphinxes the children of Niobe were slain by the arrows of Apollo and Artemis." This statue, Flaxman observes, sixty feet in height, was the most renowned work of ancient sculpture, not for stupendous magnitude alone, but more for careful majesty and sublime beauty. His Minerva in the Parthenon was of gold and ivory. The goddess was represented standing robed in a tunic, and her head covered with the formidable ægis; with her right hand she held a lance; in the left she held a statue of Victory about five feet high; her helmet was surmounted by a sphinx and two griffins, and over the visor eight horses in front in full gallop. The shield erected at the feet of the goddess was adorned on both sides with bas-reliefs. At the base of the statue were a sphinx and a serpent. This colossus was thirty-seven feet high. The gem of Aspasus and the silver tetra-drachm of Athens are said to be copies of the head of this Minerva.

Another remarkable statue of Phidias was the Athene Promachus, in the Acropolis. It represented the tutelary goddess of the Athenians, fully armed and in the attitude of battle, with one arm raised and holding spear in her hand. This work was of colossal dimensions and stood in the open air, nearly opposite the Propylæa. It towered above the roof of the Parthenon and it is said the crest of the helmet and the point of the spear could be seen far off by ships approaching Athens from Sunium. Its height is supposed to have been, with its pedestal, about seventy feet, the material was bronze. There [679]are two marble statues which have come down to us, and which give some idea of the Minervas of Phidias. One is the Pallas of Velletri, which is supposed to be a copy of the Minerva Promachus (cut is on p. 530). The Farnese Minerva, at Naples, may afford some idea of the chryselephantine statue of the Parthenon. It does not, however, present the accessories of the Athenian figure. The Sphinx, the serpent and the shield are not represented. The sculptures of the Parthenon, now in the British Museum, can lead us to appreciate the manner of Phidias, and the character of his school, so observed by Flaxman. The statues of the pediments, the metopes, and bas-reliefs, are remarkable for the grandeur of style, simplicity, truth, beauty, which are the characteristics of this school. On the eastern pediment was represented the birth of Minerva, and on the western the contest between Minerva and Neptune for the guardianship of the soil of Attica. Of the figures still preserved to us of the eastern pediment, it has been generally supposed that the reclining figure may be identified as Theseus, that another is Ceres, a third Iris, the messenger, about to announce to mortals the great event of the birth of Minerva, which has just taken place, while the group of three female figures are considered to represent the three Fates. Of the western pediment, the remaining figures are Cecrops, the first King and founder of Athens, and Aglaura, his wife, and the river god, Ilissus, or Cephisus. The metopes, which generally represent single contests between the Athenians and the Centaurs, are in strong high relief, full of bold action and passionate exertion—though this is for the most part softened by great beauty of form and a masterly style of composition which knows how to adapt itself with the utmost freedom to the strict conditions of the space. These reliefs were placed high, as they were calculated for the full light of the sun, and to throw deeper shadows.

The frieze may be considered as the chief glory of the art [680]of Phidias. The artists here expressed with the utmost beauty the signification of the temple by depicting a festive procession, which was celebrated every fifth year at Athens, in honor of Minerva, conveying in solemn pomp to the temple of the Parthenon the peplos, or sacred veil, which was to be suspended before the statue of the goddess. The end of the procession has just reached the temple, the archons and heralds await, quietly conversing together, the end of the ceremony. They are followed by a train of Athenian maidens, singly or in groups, many of them with cans and other vessels in their hands. Then follow men and women, then bearers of sacrificial gifts, then flute-players and musicians, followed by combatants in chariots, with four splendid horses. The whole is concluded by prancing horsemen, the prime of the manly youth of Athens. This frieze was within the colonnade of the Parthenon, on the upper part of the wall of the cella, and was continued round the building. By its position it only obtained a secondary light. Being placed immediately below the soffit, it received all its light from between the columns, and by reflection from the pavement below. Mr. Westmacott remarks that these works are unquestionably the finest specimens of the art that exist, and they illustrate fully and admirably the progress and, as it may be said, the consummation of sculpture. They exhibit in a remarkable degree all the qualities that constitute fine art—truth, beauty, and perfect execution. In the forms, the most perfect, the most appropriate and the most graceful have been selected. All that is coarse or vulgar is omitted, and that only is represented which unites the two essential qualities of truth and beauty. The result of this happy combination is what has been termed ideal beauty. These sculptures, however, which emanated from the mind of Phidias, and were most certainly executed under his eyes, and in his school, are not the works of his hands. Phidias himself disdained or worked but little in marble. They were, doubtless, [681]the works of his pupils, Alcamenes, Agoracritus, Colotes, Pæonios, and some other artists of his time. For, as Flaxman remarks, the styles of different hands are sufficiently evident in the alto and basso rilievo. To the age of Phidias belong the sculptors Alcamenes, Agoracritus, and Pæonios. The greatest work of Alcamenes was a statue of Venus in the Gardens, a work to which it is said Phidias himself put the finishing touch. He also executed a bronze statue of a conqueror in the games, which Pliny says was known as the "Encrinomenos, the highly approved." Agoracritus, who, Pliny says, was such a favorite of Phidias that he gave his own name to many of that artist's works, entered into a contest with Alcamenes, the subject being a statue of Venus. Alcamenes was successful, Pliny tells us, not that his work was superior, but because his fellow-citizens chose to give their suffrages in his favor, in preference to a stranger. It was for this reason that Agoracritus, indignant at his treatment, sold his statue on the express condition that it should never be taken to Athens, and changed its name to Nemesis. It was accordingly erected at Rhamnus.

A marble statue of Victory, a beautiful Nike in excellent preservation, has been lately discovered at Olympia, bearing the name of Pæonios. This statue is mentioned by Pausanius as a votive offering set up by the Messenians in the Altis, the sacred grove of Zeus at Olympia. The statues in the eastern pediment of the temple of Jupiter at Olympia were by Pæonios, and those in the western by Alcamenes. The first represented the equestrian contest of Pelops against Oenomaus, and in the second the Lapithæ were represented fighting with the centaurs at the marriage of Pirithous.

The frieze of the temple of Apollo at Bassæ, near Phigaleia, in Arcadia, belongs to this period. It was the work of Ictinus, the architect of the Parthenon. Contests with the Amazons and battles with the centaurs form the subject of the whole. The [682]most animated and boldest compositions are sculptured in these reliefs. They exhibit, however, exaggeration, and are wanting in that repose and beauty which are the characteristics of the works of Phidias.

In the half draped Venus of Milo now in the Louvre, we have a genuine Greek work, which represents an intermediate style between that of Phidias and Praxiteles. "Grandly serious," Professor Lubke writes, "and almost severe, stands the goddess of Love, not yet conceived as in later representations, as a love requiring woman. The simple drapery, resting on the hips, displays uncovered the grand forms of the upper part of the body, which, with all her beauty, have that mysteriously unapproachable feeling which is the genuine expression of the divine."

Praxitilean. This period is characterized by a more rich and flowing style of execution, as well as by the choice of softer and more delicate subjects than had usually been selected for representation. In this the beautiful was sought, after rather than the sublime. Praxiteles may be considered the first sculptor who introduced this more sensual, if it may be so called, style of art, for he was the first who, in the unrobed Venus, combined the utmost luxuriance of personal charms with a spiritual expression in which the queen of love herself appeared as a woman needful of love, and filled with inward longing. He first gave a prominence to corporeal attractions, with which the deity was invested. His favorite subjects were of youthful and feminine beauty. In his Venus of Cnidos he exhibited the goddess in the most exquisite form of woman. His Cupid represented the beauty and grace of that age in boys which seemed to the Greeks the most attractive. His Apollo Sauroctonos presented the form of a youth of exquisite beauty and proportion. The Venus of Cnidos stands foremost as one of the celebrated art creations of antiquity. This artist represented the goddess completely undraped; but this bold innovation was justified by the [683]fact that she was taking up her garment with her left hand, as if she were just coming from her bath, while with her right she modestly covered her figure. Many as are the subsequent copies preserved of this famous statue, we can only conceive the outward idea of the attitude, but none of the pure grandeur of the work of Praxiteles. In the Vatican (Chiaramonte gallery, No. 112) there is one of very inferior execution, but perhaps the only one which gives a correct idea of this Venus, as it corresponds as nearly as possible with the pose of the statue on the coin of Cnidos and with the description of Lucan.

His Cupid is represented as a slender, undeveloped boy, full of liveliness and activity, earnestly endeavoring to fasten the strings to his bow. A Roman copy of this statue is in the British Museum.

He also executed in bronze a Faun, which was known as "Periboetos, the much famed;" the finest of the many copies of this celebrated statue that have come down to us, is in the Capitol; and a youthful Apollo, styled Sauroctonos, because he is aiming an arrow at a lizard which is stealing towards him; a copy of this statue in marble is in the Vatican, and one in bronze in the Villa Albani.

Contemporary with Praxiteles was Scopas. His works exhibit powerful expression, grandeur, combined with beauty and grace. The group of Niobe and her children, at Florence, has been attributed to him. Another very celebrated work of Scopas was the statue of the Pythian Apollo playing on the lyre, which Augustus placed in the temple which he built to Apollo, on the Palatine, in thanksgiving for his victory at Actium. An inferior Roman copy of this statue is in the Vatican. He was also celebrated for his heads of Apollo. Of these many excellent copies are still extant, the finest being that formerly in the Giustiniani collection, and now in the British Museum.

The late discoveries at Halicarnassus have yielded genuine [684]works of Scopas in the sculptures of the bas-reliefs of Mausoleum, erected by Artemisia in memory of her husband, Mausolus, King of Caria, the east side of which is known to have proceeded from his hands; the other sides by his contemporaries, Bryaxis, Timotheus and Leochares. Parts of these are now in the British Museum.

The bas-reliefs of the temple of Nike Apteros have been associated with the peculiarities which characterize the productions of Scopas. A figure of Victory, stooping to loose her sandal, in bas-relief from this temple, is remarkable for its admirably arranged drapery.

The sculptural decorations of the temple of Artemis, at Ephesus, the foundations of which have been lately discovered by Mr. Wood, there is every reason to believe were contributed by Praxiteles and Scopas. The drum of a column, with figures in bas-relief from this temple, has been lately added to the British Museum.

The beautiful figure of a Bacchante in bas-relief in the British Museum is generally referred to Scopas.

The following are some of the more particular characteristics of the human form, adopted by the Grecian sculptors of this age:

In the profile, the forehead and lips touch a perpendicular line drawn between them. In young persons, the brow and nose nearly form a straight line, which gives an expression of grandeur and delicacy to the face. The forehead was low, the eyes large, but not prominent. A depth was given to the eye to give to the eyebrow a finer arch, and, by a deeper shadow, a bolder relief. To the eyes a living play of light was communicated by a sharp projection of the upper eyelid, and a deep depression of the pupil. The eye was so differently shaped in the heads of divinities and ideal heads that it is itself a characteristic by which they can be distinguished. In Jupiter, Apollo, and Juno [685]the opening of the eye is large, and roundly arched; it has also less length than usual, that the curve which it makes may be more spherical. Pallas likewise has large eyes, but the upper lid falls over them more than in the three divinities just mentioned, for the purpose of giving her a modest maiden look. Small eyes were reserved for Venuses and voluptuous beauties, which gave them a languishing air. The upper lip was short, the lower lip fuller than the upper, as this tended to give a roundness to the chin; the short upper lip, and the round and grandly-formed chin, being the most essential signs of genuine Greek formation. The lips were generally closed; they slightly open in the statues of the gods, especially in the case of Venus, but the teeth were never seen. The ear was carefully modeled and finished. The beauty, and especially the execution of them, is, according to Winkelman, the surest sign by which to discriminate the antique from additions and restorations. The hair was curly, abundant, and disposed in floating locks, and executed with the utmost imaginable care; in females it was tied in a knot behind the head. The frontal hair was represented as growing in a curve over the temples in order to give the face an oval shape. The face was always oval, and a cross drawn in the oval indicated the design of the face. The perpendicular line marked the position of the brow, the nose, the mouth, and the chin; the horizontal line passed through the eyes, and was parallel to the mouth. The hands of youth were beautifully rounded, and the dimples given; the fingers were tapered, but the articulations were not generally indicated. In the male form the chest was high, arched, and prominent. In the female form, especially in that of goddesses and virgins, the form of the breasts is virginal in the extreme, since their beauty was generally made to consist in the moderateness of their size. They were generally a little higher than nature. The abdomen was without prominence. The legs and knees of [686]youthful figures are rounded with softness and smoothness, and unmarked by muscular movements. The proportion of the limbs was longer than in the preceding period. In male and female figures the foot was rounded in its form; in the female the toes are delicate, and have dimples over their first joints gently marked.

It is evident that this type of beauty of form, adopted by the Grecian sculptors, is in unison with, and exhibits a marked analogy to the type of face and form of the Greeks themselves, for, as Sir Charles Bell observes, the Greek face is a fine oval, the forehead full and carried forward, the eyes large, the nose straight, the lips and chin finely formed; in short, the forms of the head and face have been the type of the antique, and of all which we most admire.

The sculptors of this age, instead of aiming at an abstract, unattainable ideal, studied nature in its choicest forms, and attained the beautiful by selecting and concentrating in one those charms which are found diffused over all. They avoided the representation of all violent motions and perturbations of the passions, which would have completely marred that expression of serene repose which is a prominent characteristic of the beautiful period of Greek sculpture. Indeed, the chief object of the Greek sculptor was the representation of the beautiful alone, and to this principle he made character, expression, costume, and everything else subordinate.

Lysippus, the successor of Praxiteles and Scopas, was a contemporary of Alexander the Great. He contributed to advance their style by the peculiar fullness, roundness, and harmonious general effect by which it appears that his works were characterized. His school exhibited a strong naturalistic tendency, a closer imitation of nature, leading to many refinements in detail. It was unquestionably greater in portrait than in ideal works. Pliny thus speaks of his style: "He is considered to have [687]contributed very greatly to the art of the statuary by expressing the details of the hair, and by making the head smaller than had been done by the ancients, and the body more graceful and less bulky, a method by which his statues were made to appear taller."

The portrait statues of Alexander the Great by Lysippus were very numerous. The great King would only allow himself to be modeled by Lysippus. The head of Alexander, as the young Ammon on the coins of Lysimachus, is said to have been designed by him. An athlete, scraping his body with a strigil, was the most famous of the bronze statues of Lysippus. The statue of an athlete in the Vatican, in a similar position, is supposed to be a marble copy of the original bronze of Lysippus; though an inferior work, it illustrates the statements of Pliny regarding the proportions adopted by Lysippus—a small head and the body long and slim. The bas-reliefs also on the monument of Lysicrates, representing the story of Dionysus and the Tyrrhenian pirates, presented all the characteristic features of the school of Lysippus. It was erected in the archonship of Euænetus, B.C. 335.

The canon of Polycletus began to be generally adopted at this period. It was followed by Lysippus, who called the Doryphoros of that artist his master. In his practice of dealing with the heads and limbs of his figures, Lysippus was followed by Silanion and Euphranor, and his authority may be said to have governed the school of Greece to a late period of the art.

Pliny tells us that Euphranor was the first who represented heroes with becoming dignity, and who paid particular attention to proportion. He made, however, in the generality of instances, the bodies somewhat more slender and the heads larger. His most celebrated statue was a Paris, which expressed alike the judge of the goddesses, the lover of Helen, and the slayer of Achilles. The very beautiful sitting figure of Paris, in marble, in the Vatican, is, no doubt, a copy of this work.

[688]Subsequently to these sculptors we have Chares, the Rhodian, who constructed the famous colossus of Helios at the entrance of the harbor of Rhodes, which was 105 feet high. It appears there is no authority for the common statement that its legs extended over the mouth of the harbor.

Of the later Asiatic or Rhodian schools we have the famous groups of the Laocoon, on page 555, and of Dirce tied to a bull, commonly called the Toro Farnese. In both of these the dramatic element is predominant, and the tragic interest is not appreciated. In the Laocoon consummate skill is shown in the mastery of execution; but if the object of the artist was to create pity or awe, he has drawn too much attention to his power of carving marble. The Laocoon was executed, according to Pliny, by Agesander, Polydorus and Athenodorus, natives of Rhodes. This group, now in the Vatican, was found in the baths of Titus. From the evidence of an antique gem, on which is engraved a representation of this group, we find the right arm of the Laocoon has been wrongly restored. In the gem the hand of Laocoon is in contact with his head, and not, as restored by Giovanni da Montorsoli, raised high.

The Farnese Bull, a work in which we possess the most colossal group of antiquity, was executed by Apollonius and Tauriscus, of Tralles. To the same school belongs the Dying Gladiator, who unquestionably represents, as usually supposed, a combatant who died in the amphitheatre. It is remarkable for the entire absence of ideal representation, and for its complete individuality and close imitation of nature. This statue is probably one of the masterpieces of the celebrated Pyromachus, who executed several groups, and large compositions of battle scenes for Attalus, King of Pergamus, to celebrate his decisive victory over the Gauls (B.C. 240).

To the later Athenian school belong probably the Belvidere Torso, so much admired by Michael Angelo, the Farnese [689]Hercules, the Venus de'Medici, and the Fighting Gladiator. The Belvidere Torso is now considered to be a copy by Apollonius, the son of Nestor, of the Hercules of Lysippus, and probably executed in the Macedonian period. The Farnese Hercules is so exaggerated in its style as to have been deemed a work as late as the Roman empire. According to Flaxman, the Venus de'Medici is a deteriorated variety or repetition of a Venus of Praxiteles. It is now generally admitted that it is a work of the latest Macedonian period, probably by Cleomenes, whose name appears on its base. The Fighting Gladiator bears the name of Agasias of Ephesus. From the attitude of the figure it is clear that the statue represents not a gladiator, but a warrior contending with a mounted combatant, probably an Athenian, warding off a blow from a centaur.

The Macedonian age, to which most of these statues belonged, commenced with Alexander the Great, and terminated with the absorption of Greek art by the Romans.

Art having, in the two previous periods, reached its culminating point of perfection, as is the law of all development, when a culminating point is reached, a downward tendency and a period of decline begins, for the cycle of development must be [690]completed and the stages of rise, progress, maturity, decline and decay run through.

No exact date, however, can be assigned to the beginning of the stage of decline; no sharp line of demarcation can be pointed out dividing one stage from the other. The decline was so gradual that there was an inevitable blending of the two. We perceive evident signs of decline in the fourth stage, while, in the fifth, or stage of decline, we sometimes meet some noble works of art partaking of the perfect style of the earlier periods. A period of decline inevitably and invariably follows an age of maturity and perfection. As Mr. Lecky observes, "The sculptor and the painter of the age of Praxiteles precipitated art into sensuality; both of them destroyed its religious character, both of them raised it to high æsthetic perfection, but in both cases that perfection was followed by a speedy decline." Muller remarks, "The creative activity, the real central point of the entire activity of art, which fashions peculiar forms for peculiar ideas, must have flagged in its exertions when the natural circle of ideas among the Greeks had received complete plastic embodiment, or it must have been morbidly driven to abnormal inventions. We find, therefore, that art, during this period, with greater or less degrees of skill in execution, delighted now in fantastical, now in effeminate productions, calculated merely to charm the senses. And even in the better and nobler works of the time there was still on the whole something—not, indeed, very striking to the eye, but which could be felt by the natural sense, something which distinguished them from the earlier works—the striving after effect." The spirit of imitation marked the later portion of this period of decline. The sculptors of this age, despairing of equaling the productions of the former age, gave themselves up completely to servile imitation. The imitation was naturally inferior to the original, and each succeeding attempt at imitation was but a step lower in [691]degradation of the art. When they ceased to study nature they thought to repair the deterioration of the beauty of form by the finish of the parts, and in a still later period they gave, instead of a grandeur of style, an exaggeration of form. Lastly, being utterly unable to cope with their predecessors in the sculpture of statues, they had recourse to the manufacture of busts and portraits, which they executed in countless numbers. The art reached its lowest ebb, and thus the cycle of the development of Greek sculpture terminated in its last stage—utter decay and degradation.

Roman.—In the very early periods the Romans imitated the Etruscans, for, generally speaking, all the works of the first periods of Rome were executed by Etruscan artists. Their earliest statues of gods were in clay. Etruscan art exercised the greatest influence in Rome, for Rome was adorned with monuments of Etruscan art, in its very infancy; it was a Tuscan called Veturius Mamurius who made the shields (ancilia) of the temple of Numa, and who made, in bronze, the statue of Vertumna, a Tuscan deity, in the suburb of Rome. The Romans owed all their culture to the Etruscans, from whom they learned the arts of architecture, terra-cotta work, and painting; calling in artists of that more tasteful race when anything of that sort was required for the decoration of their simple edifices. The most ancient monuments of Rome thus corresponded with the contemporaneous style of Etruscan art; there is thus a similarity in the figures; the attributes alone can lead one to distinguish them, as these attributes tell if the statue was connected with the creed or modes of belief of Etruria or Rome. There was not, therefore, any Roman style, properly so called; the only distinction to be remarked is that the statues of the early periods, executed by the Romans, are characterized, like the Romans themselves of the same period, by a beard and long hair. At a late period all the architecture, all the sculpture of the public edifices [692]at Rome, were in the Tuscan style, according to the testimony of Pliny.

After the second Punic war, Greek artists took the place of Etruscan artists at Rome; the taking of Syracuse gave the Romans a knowledge of the beautiful works of Greece, and the treasures of art brought from Corinth chiefly contributed to awaken a taste among them, and they soon turned into ridicule their ancient statues in clay; Greek art was gradually transferred to Rome; Greek artists began to abound there, and the history of Roman art was thenceforward confounded with that of the vicissitudes of Greek art. The style of the works of sculpture under the first Emperors may be considered as a continuation and sequel of the development of Greek sculpture. These works, more particularly the portrait statues, which were the prevailing works of this period, exhibit a great deal of force and character, though a want of care is visible in some parts, especially in the hair. The characters of the heads always bear out the descriptions which historians have given of the person they belong to, the Roman head differing essentially from the Greek, in having a more arched forehead, a nose more aquiline, and features altogether of a more decided character. It may be observed, however, as a general remark, that the Roman statues are of a thicker and more robust form, with less ease and grace, more stern, and of a less ideal expression than Greek statues, though equally made by Greek artists. Under Augustus, and the following Roman Emperors, to meet the demand for Greek statues to embellish their houses and villas, several copies and imitations of celebrated Greek works were manufactured by the sculptors of the age. The Apollo Belvidere, the Venus of the Capitol, and several copies of celebrated Greek works, in various Museums, such as the Faun, Cupid, Apollo Sauroctonos, and Venus of Praxiteles, the Discobolos of Myron, and several works of Scopas and Lysippus, are supposed to be of this age. [693]Archæologists are now generally agreed in thinking that the Apollo Belvidere is only a copy of a Roman period of a very fine Greek statue of about the beginning of the third century B.C., and that the original was in bronze. Another copy has been identified in a bronze statuette now in St. Petersburg, known as the Stroganoff Apollo. From this statuette it is found that the Apollo Belvidere held forward in his left hand, not a bow as was thought, but the ægis, in the attitude of spreading consternation among an enemy. The production of this statue is generally assigned to the period after the invasion of the Gauls, whom, in 278 B.C., the god drove in alarm from his sanctuary, at Delphi. (A cut of Apollo Belvidere is seen on page 495.)

Of the Faun of Praxiteles there are two copies in the Vatican, but both are inferior to that in the Capitol. A copy of the Cupid of Praxiteles is in the British Museum. Of the Apollo Sauroctonos there are two copies, one in the Vatican, and another in bronze in the Villa Albani. Of the Venus of Cnidos of Praxiteles there are several copies in the Vatican; one in particular, in the Chiaramonte Gallery, No. 112, though very inferior as a work of art, gives the exact pose of the original statue as it appears on the coin of Cnidos. The Venus of the Capitol is a Roman version of the Praxitelean statue; it differs in attitude. Several copies of the Discobolos of Myron are still in existence: one in the British Museum, one in the Vatican, and a third, much finer than either of the others, in the possession of Prince Massimo. A very fine marble copy of the celebrated bronze of Lysippus is in the Vatican. A copy of the Pythian Apollo by Scopas is in the same museum.

The noble statue of Augustus, discovered in 1863, and now in the Vatican, is a grand example of the portrait statues of this period. It is full of life and individuality. The pose is simple and majestic, as befitting the portrait of an Emperor. The bust of the young Augustus in the Vatican for depth of expression, [694]individuality, truth to nature, and delicacy of finish and treatment, is a marvel in portraiture.

Under Tiberius and Claudius a limit was placed to the right of having statues exposed in public; consequently a lesser number of statues were made, and less attention was paid to the perfection of the portrait. However, some excellent works were produced in this period. The style became purer and more refined under Hadrian, for a partial revival of Greek art is attributed to this Emperor. The hair was carefully worked, the eyebrows were raised, the pupils were indicated by a deep cavity—an essential characteristic of this age, rare before this period, and frequently introduced afterwards; the heads required greater strength, without, however, increasing in character. Of the most remarkable productions of the age of Hadrian are the numerous repetitions of the statue of Antinous, an ideal portrait of Hadrian's favorite, exhibiting much artistic perfection. That in the Capitol is remarkable, not only for its exceeding beauty, but also for its correct anatomy. Of the Emperor Hadrian there is a fine portrait statue in the British Museum. Under the Antonines, the decay of the art was still more manifest, displaying a want of simplicity, and an attention in trivial and meretricious accessories. Thus, in the busts, the hair and the beard luxuriate in an exaggerated profusion of curls, the careful expression of features of the countenance being at the same time frequently neglected. This age was remarkable also for its recurrence to the style of a primitive and imperfect art in the reproduction of Egyptian statues.

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[695]

Mosaic.

Mosaic, opus musivum, is a kind of painting made with minute pieces of colored substances, generally either marble or natural stones, or else glass, more or less opaque, and of every variety of hue which the subject may require, set in very fine cement, and which thus form pictures of different kinds, rivaling in color and hue those painted by the brush.

Early nations knew the art of mosaic, and it is supposed to derive its origin from Asia, where paintings of this kind were composed, in imitation of the beautiful carpets manufactured at all periods in those countries. The Egyptians employed it very probably for different purposes; no traces of it have, however, been found in the temples or palaces the ruins of which remain. There is in the Egyptian collection at Turin a fragment of a mummy case, the paintings of which are executed in mosaic with wonderful precision and truth. The material is enamel, the colors are of different hues, and their variety renders with perfect truth the plumage of birds. It is believed to be the only example of Egyptian mosaic.

The Greeks carried the art of mosaic to the highest perfection, assuming after the time of Alexander an importance which entitled it to be ranked as an independent art. Skillfully managing the hues, and giving to the figures in their compositions an exquisite harmony, they resembled at a slight distance real paintings. Different names were given to the mosaics, according as they were executed in pieces of marble of a certain size; it was then lithostroton, opus sectile; or in small cubes, in this case it was called opus tessellatum, or vermiculatum. The name of [696]asaroton was given to a mosaic destined to adorn the pavement of a dining hall. It was supposed to represent an unswept hall, on the pavement of which the crumbs and remains of the repast which fell from the table still remained. It was said to be introduced by Sosus of Pergamus, the first mosaic artist of consequence of whom we hear.

Mosaic was used to adorn the pavements, walls, and ceilings of public and private edifices. The Greeks in general preferred marble to every other material. A bed of mortar was prepared, which served as a base, which was covered with a very fine cement. The artist, having before him the colored design which he was to execute, fixed the colored cubes in the cement, and polished the entire surface when it had hardened, taking care, [697]however, that too great a polish, by its reflection, might not mar the general effect of his work. The great advantage of mosaic is that it resists humidity, and all which could change the colors and the beauty of painting. Painting could not be employed in the pavement of buildings, and mosaics gave them an appearance of great elegance. The mosaic of the Capitol, found in Hadrian's Villa, may give an idea of the perfection which the Greeks attained to in that art. It represents a vase full of water, on the sides of which are four doves, one of which is in the act of drinking. It is supposed by some to be the mosaic of Pergamus mentioned by Pliny. It is entirely composed of cubes of marble, without any admixture of colored glass. Mosaic of this kind may be considered as the most ancient; it was only by degrees that the art of coloring marble, enamel, and glass multiplied the materials suited for mosaics, and rendered their [698]execution much more easy. It was then carried to a very high degree of perfection. The mosaic found at Pompeii, which represents three masked figures playing on different instruments, with a child near them, is of the most exquisite workmanship. It is formed of very small pieces of glass, of the most beautiful colors, and of various shades. The hair, the small leaves which ornament the masks, and the eyebrows, are most delicately expressed. What enhances the value of this mosaic is the name of the artist who worked in it—Dioscorides of Samos. Another mosaic found at Pompeii is the beautiful one of Acratus on a Panther. The subjects represented in mosaics are in endless variety, and generally are derived from mythology or heroic myths. Landscapes and ornaments in borders, in frets, in compartments, intermingled with tritons, nereides, centaurs, are to be found on them. The principal subject is in the center, the rest serves as a bordering or framework. In the Greek tessellated pavement found at Halicarnassus, the mosaic is of very fine workmanship, being composed of small cubes of white, black and red marble.

Another and a still more remarkable mosaic was discovered in the House of the Faun, and is perhaps the most beautiful and magnificent specimen of the art that has yet been found. This mosaic, which is now preserved in the museum at Naples, is about eighteen feet long by nine broad. The subject represents a battle between Greeks and barbarians, the latter apparently of eastern race; but a variety of conjectures have been hazarded as to what battle is actually depicted. Some have seen in it the combat between Patroclus and Sarpedon, and the death of the latter; others have recognized in it the battles of the Granicus, of Arbela, of Platæa, of Marathon, etc. But the opinion most commonly adopted is that of Professor Quaranta, who refers the picture to the battle of Issus. The Grecian leader, supposed to represent Alexander the Great, is drawn with great beauty and vigor. Charging, bareheaded, in the midst of [699]the fight, he has transfixed with his lance one of the Persian leaders, whose horse, wounded in the shoulder, had already fallen. The expression of physical agony in the countenance of the wounded man is admirably depicted. Another horse, which an attendant had brought for him, has arrived too late. The death of the Persian general has evidently decided the fortune of the day. In the background, the Persian spears are still directed against the advancing Greeks. But at the sight of the fallen general, another Persian leader in a quadriga, who, from the richness of his dress and accoutrements, the height of his tiara, and his red chlamys, is probably Darius himself, stretches forth his right hand in an attitude of alarm and despair, while the charioteer urges his horses to precipitate flight. Nothing can exceed the vigor with which both men and animals are depicted in this unequaled mosaic. If the Grecian hero really represents Alexander the Great, the mosaic may probably be a copy of a picture by Appelles, the only artist privileged to paint the Macedonian conqueror. It is unfortunate that the work has suffered much damage on the left side, or that which contains the Grecian host. It was, however, in this mutilated state when discovered, and seems to have been under a process of reparation. The border represents a river, apparently the Nile, with a crocodile, hippopotamus, ichneumon, ibises, etc.; whence some have been led to think that the mosaic is a copy of a picture on the same subject known to have been painted by a female Egyptian artist named Helena, and brought to Rome by Vespasian.

Painted floors were first used by the Greeks, who made and colored them with much care, until they were driven out by the mosaic floors called lithostrota. The most famous workman in this kind was Sosus, who wrought at Pergamus the pavement which is called asarotus oikos, the unswept hall, made of quarrels or square tesseræ of different colors, in such a way as to [700]resemble the crumbs and scraps that fell from the table, and such-like things as usually are swept away, as if they were still left by negligence upon the pavement. There also is admirably represented a dove drinking, in such a way that the shadow of her head is cast on the water. Other doves are seen sitting on the rim of the vessel preening themselves and basking in the sun. The first paved floors which came into use were those called barbarica and subtegulanea, which were beaten down with rammers, as may be known by the name pavimentum, from pavire, to ram. The pavements called scalpturata were first introduced into Italy in the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, after the beginning of the third Punic war. But ere the Cimbric wars began, such pavements were in common use at Rome, and men took great delight and pleasure therein.

For galleries and terraces open to the sky, they were devised by the Greeks, who, enjoying a warm climate, used to cover their houses with them; but where the rain waters freeze, pavements of this sort are not to be trusted. To make a terrace of this sort, it is necessary to lay two courses of boards, one athwart the other, the ends of which ought to be nailed, that they should not twist nor warp; which done take two parts of new rubbish, and one of tiles stamped to powder; then with other three parts of old rubbish mix two parts of lime, and herewith lay a bed of a foot thickness, taking care to ram it hard together. Over this must be laid a bed of mortar, six fingers thick, and upon this middle couch, large paving-tiles, at least two fingers deep. This sort of pavement is to be made to rise to the center in the proportion of one inch and a-half to ten feet. Being thus laid, it is to be planed and polished diligently with some hard stone; but, above all, regard is to be had that the boarded floor be made of oak. As for such as do start or warp any way, they be thought naught. Moreover, it were better to lay a course of flint or chaff between it and the lime, to the end that the lime [701]may not have so much force to hurt the board underneath it. It were also well to put at the bottom a bed of round pebbles.

And here we must not forget another kind of these pavements which are called Græcanica, the manner of which is this: [702]Upon a floor well beaten with rammers, is laid a bed of rubbish, or else broken tile-shards, and then upon it a couch of charcoal, well beaten, and driven close together, with sand, and lime, and small cinders, well mixed together, to the thickness of half a foot, well leveled; and this has the appearance of an earthen floor; but, if it be polished with a hard smooth stone, the whole pavement will seem all black. As for those pavements called lithostrota, which are made of divers colored squares or dice, they came into use in Sylla's time, who made one at Præneste, in the temple of Fortune, which pavement remains to be seen at this day.

It may be remarked here, that the Roman villa at Northleigh, in Oxfordshire, examined and described by Mr. Hakewill, abounded with beautiful pavements. The substratum of one of these, which had been broken, was investigated, when it was found that the natural soil had been removed to a depth of near seven feet, and the space filled up with materials which bear a near resemblance to those which Pliny recommends.

A specimen of the coarser sort of mosaic pavement is to be seen in the Townley Gallery, in the British Museum.

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[703]

LITERATURE.ToC

The perfection which the Greeks attained in literature and art is one of the most striking features in the history of the people. Their intellectual activity and their keen appreciation of the beautiful constantly gave birth to new forms of creative genius. There was an uninterrupted progress in the development of the Grecian mind from the earliest dawn of the history of the people to the downfall of their political independence, and each succeeding age saw the production of some of those master works of genius which have been the models and admiration of all subsequent time.

The poets were the popular writers of ancient Greece; prose writers appear no earlier than the sixth century before the Christian era, at which time the first literary prose essay was produced, for which three contemporary authors claim the honor. The Greeks had arrived at a high degree of civilization before they can be said to have possessed a history of their own. Nations far behind them in intellectual development have infinitely excelled them in this respect. The imagination seems to have been entirely dazzled and fascinated with the glories of the heroic ages, and to have taken but little interest in the events which were daily passing around them. Poetry constitutes the chief part of early Greek literature. We give specimens of both Greek poetry and prose. We will not attempt to give specimens of all, but only such as are considered, by common consent, the best.

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[704]

HOMER.

Seven cities have contested for the honor of the birth-place of Homer. It is now generally agreed that he was born about 950 B.C., in the City of Melesigenes.

It is not a little strange that nothing should be known with certainty of the parentage or of the birth-place, or even of the era of the greatest poet of antiquity, of him who, next to Milton, ranks as the greatest epic poet of the world. In two respects, all the accounts concerning him agree—that he had traveled much, and that he was afflicted with blindness. From the first circumstance, it has been inferred that he was either rich or enjoyed the patronage of the wealthy; but this will not appear necessary when it is considered that, in his time, journeys were usually performed on foot, and that he probably traveled, with a view to his support, as an itinerant musician or reciter. From most of the traditions respecting him, it appears that he was poor, and it is to be feared that necessity, rather than the mere desire of gratifying curiosity, prompted his wanderings. All that has been advanced respecting the occasion of his blindness is mere conjecture. Certain it is, that this misfortune arose from accident or disease, and not from the operation of nature at his birth; for the character of his compositions seems rather to suppose him all eye, than destitute of sight; and if they were even framed during his blindness, they form a glorious proof of the vivid power of the imagination more than supplying the want of the bodily organs, and not merely throwing a variety of its own tints over the objects of nature, but presenting them to the mind in a clearer light than could be shed over them by one whose powers of immediate vision were perfectly free from blemish.

Of the incidents in the life of Homer, almost as little is [705]known as of his parentage and birth-place. However, the general account is that he was for many years a school-master in Smyrna; that, being visited by one Mentes, the commander of a Leucadian ship, he was induced by him to leave his occupation and travel; that, in company with this captain, he visited the various countries around the shores of the Mediterranean, and at last was left at Ithaca, in consequence of a weakness in his eyes. While in this island, he was entertained by a man of fortune named Mentor, who narrated to him the stories upon which afterwards the Odyssey was founded. On the return of Mentes, he accompanied him to Colophon, where he became totally blind. He then returned to Smyrna, and afterwards removed to Cyme (called also Cuma), in Æolis, where he received great applause in the recitations of his poems, but no pecuniary reward; the people alleging that they could not maintain all the Homeroi, or blind men, and hence he obtained the name of Homer. Thence he went about from place to place, acquiring much wealth by his recitations, and died at the Island of Ios, one of the Cyclades, where he was buried.

The works attributed to Homer consist of the two epic poems, the Iliad and the Odyssey, of twenty-four books each, the Batrachomyomachia, or "Battle of the Frogs and Mice," a humorous, mock-heroic poem, and somewhat of a parody on the Iliad; the Margites, a satirical, personal satire, and about thirty Hymns. All of these but the two great epics are now, however, considered as spurious.

But it was left to modern skepticism (which seems to think that to doubt shows a higher order of intellect than to believe on evidence) to maintain the bold position that the "Iliad" and the "Odyssey" were a collection of separate lays by different authors, arranged and put together for the first time during the tyranny and by the order of Pisistratus, at Athens, about 550 B.C. The chief supporters of this theory are the celebrated [706]German scholars, Wolf and Heyne, who flourished about the year 1800.

Those who may desire to go into the subject fully will read Wolf's "Prolegomena," and the strictures of his great opponent, G.W. Nitzsch; but a succinct account of the argument may be found in Browne's "Classical Literature," and in the "History of Greek Literature," by Sir Thomas Noon Talfourd.

Even Wolf himself candidly declares that when he reads the "Iliad" he finds such unity of design, such harmony of coloring, and such consistency of character, that he is ready to give up his theories, and to be angry with himself for doubting the common faith in the personality of Homer.

Professor Felton, in his excellent edition of the "Iliad," thus remarks in the preface: "For my part, I prefer to consider it, as we have received it from ancient editors, as one poem, the work of one author, and that author Homer—the first and greatest of minstrels. As I understand the 'Iliad,' there is a unity of plan, a harmony of parts, a consistency among the different situations of the same character, which mark it as the production of one mind; but of a mind as versatile as the forms of nature, the aspects of life, and the combinations of powers, propensities and passions in man are various." In these views, the literary world now very generally concurs.

"The hypothesis to which the antagonists of Homer's personality must resort implies something more wonderful than the theory which they impugn. They profess to cherish the deepest veneration for the genius displayed in the poems. They agree, also, in the antiquity usually assigned to them; and they make this genius and this antiquity the arguments to prove that one man could not have composed them. They suppose, then, that in a barbarous age, instead of one being marvelously gifted, there were many; a mighty race of bards, such as the world has never since seen—a number of miracles instead of one. All [707]experience is against this opinion. In various periods of the world great men have arisen, under very different circumstances, to astonish and delight it; but that the intuitive power should be so strangely diffused, at any one period, among a great number, who should leave no successors behind them, is unworthy of credit. And we are requested to believe this to have occurred in an age which those who maintain the theory regard as unfavorable to the poetic art! The common theory, independent of other proofs, is prima facie the most probable. Since the early existence of the works can not be doubted, it is easier to believe in one than in twenty Homers."—Talfourd.

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OPENING ARGUMENT OF THE ILIAD.
(By Homer.)

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MINERVA ARMING HERSELF FOR BATTLE.
(By Homer.)

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PARTING OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.
(By Homer.)

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THE RACE OF MAN.
(By Homer.)

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COUNCIL OF THE GODS.
(By Homer.)

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NIGHT-SCENE.
(By Homer.)

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HATEFULNESS OF WAR.
(By Homer.)

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FALSEHOOD.
(By Homer.)

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[716]

SHOWERS OF ARROWS.
(By Homer.)

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PRIAM BEGGING THE BODY OF HECTOR.
(By Homer.)

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HELEN'S LAMENTATION OVER HECTOR.
(By Homer.)

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We will here give a few pages of the history of the Trojan war, giving some of the characters, subjects, etc., referred to in the preceding poems in a prose story.

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PARIS.

There was sorrow, instead of gladness, in the halls of Priam, because a son was born unto him, and because the lady Hecuba had dreamed a dream, from which the seers knew that the child should bring ruin on the Ilion land. So his mother looked with cold, unloving eyes on the babe as he lay weak and helpless in his cradle, and Priam bade them take the child and leave him on rugged Ida, for the fountain of his love was closed against him.

For five days the dew fell on the babe by night, and the sun shone fiercely on him by day, as he lay on the desolate hill-side, and the shepherd who placed him there to sleep the sleep of death looked upon the child and said, "He sleeps as babes may slumber on silken couches; the gods will it not that he should die." So he took him to his home, and the child grew up with ruddy cheek and nimble feet, brave and hardy, so that none might be matched with him for strength and beauty. The fierce wolves came not near the flocks while Paris kept guard near the fold, the robber lurked not near the homestead when Paris sat by the hearth. So all sang of his strength and his great deeds, and they called him Alexandros, the helper of men.

[719]Many years he tended the flocks on woody Ida, but Priam, his father, dwelt in Ilion, and thought not to see his face again, and he said within himself, "Surely my child is long since dead, and no feast has been given to the gods that Paris may dwell in peace in the dark kingdom of Hades." Then he charged his servants to fetch him a bull from the herd, which might be given to the man who should conquer in the games, and they chose out one which Paris loved above all others that he drove out to pasture. So he followed the servants of Priam in grief and anger, and he stood forth and strove with his brethren in the games, and in all of them Paris was the conqueror. Then one of his brothers was moved with wrath, and lifted up his sword against him, but Paris fled to the altar of Zeus, and the voice of Cassandra, his sister, was heard saying, "O blind of eye and heart, see ye not that this is Paris, whom ye sent to sleep the sleep of death on woody Ida?"

But Paris would not dwell in the sacred Ilion, for he loved not those who sought to slay him while he was yet a helpless child, and again he tended the flocks on the wide plains and up the rough hillsides. Strong he was of limb and stout of heart, and his face shone with a marvelous beauty, so that they who saw it thought him fair as the bright heroes. There, as he wandered in the woody dells of Ida, he saw and wooed the beautiful Œnone, the child of the river-god, Kebren. Many a time he sat with the maiden by the side of the stream, and the sound of their voices was mingled with the soft murmur of the waters. He talked to her of love, and Œnone looked up with a wondrous joy into his beautiful face, when the morning dew glistened white upon the grass and when the evening star looked out upon the pale sky.

So was Paris wedded to Œnone, and the heart of the maiden was full of happiness, for none was braver or more gentle—none so stout of heart, so lithe of limb, so tender and loving [720]as Paris. Thus passed the days away in a swift dream of joy, for Œnone thought not of the change that was coming.

There was feasting and mirth among the gods and men, for the brave Peleus had won Thetis, the maiden of the sea, for his bride; and she rose from the depths of her coral caves to go to his home in Phthia. The banquet was spread in his ancient hall, and the goblets sparkled with the dark wine, for all the gods had come down from Olympus to share the feast in the house of Peleus. Only Eris was not bidden, for she was the child of War and Hatred, and they feared to see her face in the hours of laughter and mirth; but her evil heart rested not till she found a way to avenge herself for the wrong which they had done to her.

The gods were listening to the song of Phœbus Apollo as he made sweet music on the strings of his harp, when a golden apple was cast upon the table before them. They knew not whence it came, only they saw that it was to be a gift for the fairest in that great throng, for so was it written on the apple. Then the joy of the feast was gone, and the music of the song ceased, for there was a strife which should have the golden prize; and Here, the Queen, said, "The gods themselves do obeisance to me when I enter the halls of Olympus, and men sing of the glory of my majesty; therefore must the gift be mine." But Athene answered, and said, "Knowledge and goodness are better things than power; mine is the worthier title." Then the fair Aphrodite lifted her white arm, and a smile of triumph passed over her face as she said, "I am the child of love and beauty, and the stars danced in the heaven for joy as I sprang from the sea foam; I dread not the contest, for to me alone must the golden gift be given."

So the strife waxed hot in the banquet hall, till Zeus spake with a loud voice, and said, "It needs not to strive now. Amid the pine forest of Ida dwells Paris, the fairest of the sons of men; [721]let him be judge, and the apple shall be hers to whom he shall give it." Then Hermes rose and led them quickly over land and sea, to go to the rough hillside where Paris wooed and won Œnone.

Presently the messenger of Zeus stood before Paris, and said, "Fairest of the sons of men, there is strife among the undying gods, for Here and Aphrodite and Athene seek each to have the golden apple which must be given to her who is most fair. Judge thou, therefore, between them when they come, and give peace again to the halls of Zeus."

In a dream of joy and love Œnone sate by the river-side, and she looked on her own fair face, which was shown to her in a still calm pool where the power of the stream came not, and she said to herself, "The gods are kind, for they have given to me a better gift than that of beauty, for the love of Paris sheds for me a wondrous beauty over the heaven above and the broad earth beneath." Then came Paris, and said, "See, Œnone, dearest child of the bright waters, Zeus hath called me to be judge in a weighty matter. Hither are coming Here, the Queen, and Aphrodite and Athene, seeking each the golden apple which must be given to her alone who is the fairest. Yet go not away, Œnone; the broad vine leaves have covered our summer bower; there tarry and listen to the judgment, where none may see thee."

So Paris sat in judgment, and Here spake to him, and said, "I know I am the fairest, for none other has beauty and majesty like mine. Hearken, then, to me, and I will give thee power to do great deeds among the sons of men, and a name which the minstrels shall sing of among those who shall be born in long time to come." But Athene answered, "Heed not her words, O Paris. Thy hand is strong and thy heart is pure, and the men among whom thou dwellest honor thee even now because thou hast done them good. There are better things than power [722]and high renown; and if thou wilt hearken to me, I will give thee wisdom and strength; and pure love shall be thine, and the memory of happy days when thou drawest near to the dark land of Hades."

Then Paris thought that he heard the voice of Œnone, and it seemed to whisper to him, "Wisdom and right are better than power, give it to Athene." But Aphrodite gazed upon him with laughing eyes, as she came up closer to his side. Her dark curls fell waving over his shoulder, and he felt the breath from her rosy lips, as she laid her hand on his arm and whispered softly in his ear, "I talk not to thee of my beauty, for it may be thou seest that I am very fair, but hearken to me, and I will give thee for thy wife the fairest of all the daughters of men." But Paris answered, "I need not thy gift, O child of the bright sea foam, for fairer wife than Œnone no mortal man may hope to have. Yet art thou the fairest of all the daughters of the undying gods, and the gift of the fairest is thine."

So he placed the golden apple in the palm of her snow-white hand, and the touch of her slender fingers thrilled through the heart of Paris as she parted from him with smiling lip and laughing eye. But Here, the Queen, and Athene, the virgin child of Zeus, went away displeased, and evermore their wrath lay heavy on the city and land of Ilion.

Then went Paris to Œnone, and he twined his arms around her and said, "Didst thou see the dark countenance of the lady Here when I gave to the fairest the gift which the fairest alone may have? Yet what care I for the wrath of Here and Athene? One smile from the lips of Aphrodite is better than their favor for a whole life long." But Œnone answered sadly, "I would that thou mayest speak truly, Paris; yet in my eyes the lady Athene is fairer far, and Aphrodite is ever false as fair." Then Paris clasped her closer in his arms and kissed her pale cheek, and said nothing.

[723]

But the fierce wrath of Eris was not ended yet. Far away in the western land, there was sore famine in the kingdom of the mighty Menelaus, the people died by the wayside, and the warriors had no strength to go forth to the battle or the huntsmen to the chase. Many times they sought to know the will [724]of the gods, but they heard only dark words for answers, till Phœbus Apollo said that the famine should never cease from the land until they brought from Ilion the bones of the children of Prometheus, whom Zeus bound on the desolate crags of Caucasus. So Menelaus, the King, departed from his home and went to the city of Priam. There he saw the beautiful Paris, and took him to the Spartan land, for he said that Paris should return home rich and wealthy. So Paris believed his words, and sailed with him over the wide sea. Long time he abode in Sparta, and day by day he saw the lady Helen in the halls of Menelaus. At the first he thought within himself, "I would that Œnone were here to see the wife of Menelaus, for surely she is fairer than aught else on the earth." But soon he thought less and less of Œnone, who was sorrowing for his long sojourn in the strange land, as she wandered amid the pine forests of woody Ida.

Quickly sped the days for Paris, for his heart was filled with a strange love, and the will of Eris was being accomplished within him. He thought not of Œnone and her lonely wanderings on heathy Ida; he cared not for the kindly deeds of Menelaus; and so it came to pass that, when Menelaus was far away, Paris spoke words of evil love to Helen and beguiled her to leave her home. Stealthily they fled away, and sailed over the sea till they came to the Ilion land; and Helen dwelt with Paris in the house of his father, Priam.

But Œnone mourned for the love which she had lost, and her tears fell into the gentle stream of Kebren as she sat on its grassy banks. "Ah me," she said, "my love hath been stung by Aphrodite. O Paris, Paris! hast thou forgotten all thy words? Here thine arms were clasped around me, and here, as thy lips were pressed to mine, thou didst say that the wide earth had for thee no living thing so fair as Œnone. Sure am I that Helen hath brought to thee only a false joy; for her heart is not [725]thine as the heart of a maiden when it is given to her first love; and sure am I, too, that Helen is not a fairer wife than I, for my heart is all thine, and the beauty of woman is marred when she yields herself to a lawless love. But the cloud is gathering round thee; and I am sprung from the race of the gods, and mine eyes are opened to behold the things that willingly I would not see. I see the waters black with ships, and the hosts of the Achaians gathered round the walls of Ilion. I see the moons roll round, while thy people strive in vain against the wrath of Here and the might of the son of Peleus; and far away I see the flames that shall burn the sacred Ilion. I see thy father smitten down in his own hall, and the spear that shall drink thy life-blood. Ah me! for the doom that is coming, and for the pleasant days when we loved and wandered among the dells of Ida."

So Paris dwelt with Helen in the house of Priam; but men said, "This is no more the brave Alexandros," for he lay at ease on silken couches, and his spear and shield hung idle on the wall. For him the wine sparkled in the goblet while the sun rose high in the heavens, and he cared only to listen to the voice of Helen, or the minstrels who sang of the love and the bowers of laughter-loving Aphrodite. And Helen sat by his side in sullen mood, for she thought of the former days and of the evil which she had done to the good King Menelaus. Then there came into her heart a deep hatred for Paris, and she loathed him for his false words and his fond looks, as he lay quaffing the wine and taking his rest by day and by night upon the silken couches.

But throughout the streets of Ilion there was hurrying and shouting of armed men, and terror and cries of women and children; for the hosts of the Achaians were come to take vengeance for the wrongs of Menelaus. Yet Paris heeded not the prayers of his brethren, that he should send back Helen; so she tarried by his side in his gilded chambers, and he went not forth [726]to the battle, till all men reviled him for his evil love, because he had forsaken the fair Œnone.

So for Paris fell the mighty Hector; for him died the brave Sarpedon; and the women of Ilion mourned for their husbands who were smitten down by the Achaian warriors. Fiercer and fiercer grew the strife, for Here and Athene fought against the men of Troy, and no help came from the laughter-loving Aphrodite.

Many times the years went round, while yet the Achaians strove to take the city of Priam, till at last for very shame Paris took from the wall his spear and shield, and went forth to the battle, but the strength of his heart and of his arm was gone, and he trembled at the fierce war-cries, as a child trembles at the roaring of the storm. Then before the walls of Ilion there was fiercer strife, and the bodies of the slain lay in heaps upon the battle plain. Faint and weary, the people of Priam were shut up within the walls, until the Achaians burst into the gates and gave the city to sword and flame. Then the cry of men and women went up to the high heaven, and the blood ran in streams upon the ground. With a mighty blaze rose up the flames of the burning city, and the dream of Paris was ended.

Fast he fled from the wrath of Menelaus, and he cared not to look back on the Argive Helen or the slaughter of his kinsfolk and his people. But the arrow of Philoctetes came hissing through the air, and the barb was fixed in the side of Paris. Hastily he drew it from the wound, but the weapons of Herakles failed not to do their work, and the poison sped through his burning veins. Onwards he hastened to the pine forests of Ida, but his limbs trembled beneath him, and he sank down as he drew nigh to the grassy bank where he had tended his flocks in the former days. "Ah, Œnone," he said, "the evil dream is over, and thy voice comes back to mine ear, soft and loving as when I wooed and won thee among the dells of Ida. Thou [727]hearest me not, Œnone, or else I know that, forgiving all the wrong, thou wouldst hasten to help me."

And even as he spoke Œnone stood before him, fair and beautiful as in the days that were past. The glory as of the pure evening time was shed upon her face, and her eye glistened with the light of an undying love. Then she laid her hand upon him and said, gently, "Dost thou know me, Paris? I am the same Œnone whom thou didst woo in the dells of woody Ida. My grief hath not changed me, but thou art not the same, O Paris, for thy love hath wandered far away, and thou hast yielded thyself long to an evil dream." But Paris said, "I have wronged thee, Œnone, fairest and sweetest, and what may atone for the wrong? The fire burns in my veins, my head reels, and mine eye is dim; look but upon me once, that thinking on our ancient love, I may fall asleep and die."

Then Œnone knelt by the side of Paris, and saw the wound which the arrow of Philoctetes had made; but soon she knew that neither gods nor men could stay the poison with which Herakles had steeped his mighty weapons. There she knelt, but Paris spoke not more. The coldness of death passed over him as Œnone looked down upon his face and thought of the days when they lived and loved amid the dells of Ida.

Long time she knelt by his side, until the stars looked forth in the sky. Then Œnone said, "O Eris, well hast thou worked thy will, and well hath Aphrodite done thy bidding. O Paris, we have loved and suffered, but I never did thee wrong, and now I follow thee to the dark land of Hades."

Presently the flame shot up to heaven from the funeral pile of Paris, and Œnone lay down to rest on the fiery couch by his side.

---

[728]

ACHILLES.

Nine years the Achaians had fought against Ilion to avenge the wrongs and woes of Helen, and still the war went on, and only the words of Kalchas, which he spoke long ago in Aulis, cheered them with the hope that the day of vengeance was near at hand. For strife had arisen between the King, Agamemnon, and the mighty son of Peleus, and it seemed to the men of Argos that all their toil must be for naught. In fierce anger Achilles vowed a vow that he would go forth no more to the battle, and he sat in sullen silence within his tent, or wandered gloomily along the sea-shore. With fresh courage the hosts of the Trojans poured out from their walls when they knew that Achilles fought no more on the side of the Achaians, and the chieftains sought in vain for his help when the battle went against them. Then the face of the war was changed, for the men of Ilion came forth from their city, and shut up the Achaians within their camp, and fought fiercely to take the ships. Many a chief and warrior was smitten down, and still Achilles sat within his tent, nursing his great wrath, and reviling all who came before him with gifts and prayers.

But dearer than all others to the child of the sea-nymph, Thetis, was Patroclus, the son of Menœtius, and the heart of Achilles was touched with pity when he saw the tears stream down his face, and he said, "Dear friend, tell me thy grief, and hide nothing from me. Hast thou evil tidings from our home at Phthia, or weepest thou for the troubles which vex us here?" Then Patroclus spoke out boldly, and said, "Be not angry at my words, Achilles. The strength of the Argives is wasted away, and the mightiest of their chieftains lie wounded or dead around their ships. They call thee the child of Peleus and of Thetis, but men will say that thou art sprung from the rugged [729]rocks and the barren sea, if thou seest thy people undone and liftest not an arm to help them." Then Achilles answered, "My friend, the vow is on me, and I can not go, but put thou on my armor and go forth to the battle. Only take heed to my words, and go not in my chariot against the City of Ilion. Drive our enemies from the ships, and let them fight in the plain, and then do thou come back to my tent."

Then the hearts of the Achaians were cheered, for next to Achilles there was not in all the host a warrior more brave and mighty than Patroclus. At his word the Myrmidons started up from their long rest, and hastily snatched their arms to follow him to the battle. Presently Patroclus came forth. The glistening helmet of Achilles was on his head, and his armor was girt around his body. Only he bore not his mighty spear, for no mortal man might wield that spear in battle but Achilles. Before the tent stood the chariot, and harnessed to it were the horses, Xanthos and Balios, who grow not old nor die.

So Patroclus departed for the fight, and Achilles went into his tent, and as he poured out the dark wine from a golden goblet, he prayed to Zeus, and said, "O thou that dwellest far away in Dodona, where the Selloi do thy bidding and proclaim thy will, give strength and victory to Patroclus, my friend. Let him drive the men of Ilion from the ships and come back safe to me after the battle." But Zeus heard the prayer in part only, for the doom was that Achilles should see Patroclus alive no more.

Then the hosts of the Trojans trembled as Patroclus drew nigh on the chariot of Achilles, and none dared to go forth against him. Onward sped the undying horses, and wherever they went the ground was red with the blood of the Trojans who were smitten down by his spear. Then Sarpedon, the great chief of the Lykians, spake to Glaucus, and said, "O friend, I must go forth and do battle with Patroclus. The [730]people fall beneath his sword, and it is not fit that the chieftains should be backward in the strife." But the doom of Sarpedon was sealed, and presently his body lay lifeless on the ground, while the men of Argos and of Ilion fought for his glittering arms.

Then the doom came on Patroclus also, for Phœbus Apollo fought against him in the battle, and in the dust was rolled the helmet which no enemy had touched when it rested on the head of Achilles. Before him flashed the spear of Hector, as he said, "The hour of thy death is come, Patroclus, and the aid of Achilles can not reach thee now." But Patroclus said only, "It is thy time for boasting now; wait yet a little while, and the sword of Achilles shall drink thy life-blood."

So Patroclus died, and there was a fierce fight over his body, and many fell on both sides, until there was a great heap of dead around it. But away from the fight, the horses Xanthos and Balios wept for their charioteer, and they would not stir with the chariot, but stood fixed firm as pillars on the ground, till Zeus looked down in pity on them, and said, "Was it for this that I gave you to Peleus, the chieftain of Phthia—horses who can not grow old or die, to a mortal man, the most wretched thing that crawls upon the earth? But fear not; no enemy shall lay hands on the chariot of Achilles, or on the immortal horses which bear it. Your limbs shall be filled with new strength, and ye shall fly like birds across the battle-field till ye come to the tent of your master." Then the horses wept no more, but swift as eagles they bore Automedon through the fight, while Hector and his people strove fiercely to seize them. At last the battle was over, and, while the Achaians bore the body of Patroclus to the ships, Antilochus, the son of Nestor, went to the tent of Achilles, and said, "Thy friend is slain, and Hector has his armor."

Then the dark cloud of woe fell on the soul of Achilles. [731]In a fierce grief he threw earth with both hands into the air, and rent his clothes, and lay down weeping in the dust. Far away in her coral caves beneath the sea Thetis heard the deep groans of her child, and, like a white mist, she rose from the waters and went to comfort him; and she said, "Why weepest thou, my son? When Agamemnon did thee wrong, thou didst pray that the Achaians might sorely need thy aid in the battle, and thy wish has been accomplished. So may it be again." But Achilles answered, "Of what profit is it to me, my mother, that my prayer has been heard, since Patroclus, my friend, is slain, and Hector has my armor? One thing only remains to me now. I will slay Hector and avenge the slaughter of Patroclus." Then the tears ran down the cheeks of Thetis as she said, "Then is thine own doom accomplished, for when thou slayest Hector, thou hast not many days to live," "So then let it be," said Achilles; "the mighty Herakles tasted of death; therefore let me die also, so only Hector dies before me."

Then Thetis sought no more to turn him from his purpose, but she went to the house of Hephaistos to get armor for her child in place of that which Hector had taken from Patroclus. And Achilles vowed a vow that twelve sons of the Trojans should be slain at the grave of his friend, and that Hector should die before the funeral rites were done. Then Agamemnon sent him gifts, and spake kindly words, so that the strife between them might end, and Achilles now go forth to fight for the Achaians. So, in the armor which Hephaistos had wrought at the prayer of Thetis, he mounted his chariot, and bade his horses bring him back safe from the battle-field. Then the horse Xanthos bowed his head, and the long tresses of his mane flowed down to the earth as he made answer, "We will in very truth save thee, O mighty Achilles; but thy doom is near at hand, and the fault rests not with us now, or when we left Patroclus dead on the battle-field, for Phœbus Apollo slew him and gave [732]the glory and the arms to Hector." And Achilles said, "Why speak to me of evil omens? I know that I shall see my father and my mother again no more; but if I must die in a strange land, I will first take my fill of vengeance."

Then the war-cry of Achilles was heard again, and a mighty life was poured into the hearts of the Achaians, as they seized their arms at the sound. Thick as withering leaves in autumn fell the Trojans beneath his unerring spear. Chief after chief was smitten down, until their hosts fell in terror within the walls of Ilion. Only Hector awaited his coming, but the shadow of death was stealing over him, for Phœbus Apollo had forsaken the great champion of Troy because Zeus so willed it. So in the strife the strength of Hector failed, and he sank down on the earth. The foot of Achilles rested on his breast, and the spear's point was on his neck, while Hector said, "Slay me if thou wilt, but give back my body to my people. Let not the beasts of the field devour it, and rich gifts shall be thine from my father and my mother for this kindly deed." But the eyes of Achilles flashed with a deadly hatred, as he answered, "Were Priam to give me thy weight in gold, it should not save thy carcass from the birds and dogs." And Hector said, "I thought not to persuade thee, for thy heart is made of iron, but see that thou pay not the penalty for thy deed on the day when Paris and Phœbus Apollo shall slay thee at the Scæan gates of Ilion." Then the life-blood of Hector reddened the ground as Achilles said, "Die, wretch! My fate I will meet in the hour when it may please the undying gods to send it."

But not yet was the vengeance of Achilles accomplished. At his feet lay Hector dead, but the rage in his heart was fierce as ever, and he tied the body to his chariot and dragged it furiously, till none who looked on it could say, "This was the brave and noble Hector." But things more fearful still came afterwards, for the funeral rites were done to Patroclus, and twelve [733]sons of the Trojans were slain in the mighty sacrifice. Still the body of Hector lay on the ground, and the men of Ilion sought in vain to redeem it from Achilles. But Phœbus Apollo came down to guard it, and he spread over it his golden shield to keep away all unseemly things. At last the King, Priam, mounted his chariot, for he said, "Surely he will not scorn the prayer of a father when he begs the body of his son." Then Zeus sent Hermes to guide the old man to the tent of Achilles, so that none others of the Achaians might see him. Then he stood before the man who had slain his son, and he kissed his hands, and said, "Hear my prayer, Achilles. Thy father is an old man like me, but he hopes one day to see thee come back with great glory from Ilion. My sons are dead, and none had braver sons in Troy than I; and Hector, the flower and pride of all, has been smitten by thy spear. Fear the gods, Achilles, and pity me for the remembrance of thy father, for none has ever dared like me to kiss the hand of the man who has slain his son." So Priam wept for his dear child, Hector, and the tears flowed down the cheeks of Achilles as he thought of his father, Peleus, and his friend, Patroclus, and the cry of their mourning went up together.

So the body of Hector was borne back to Ilion, and a great sacrifice was done to the gods beneath the earth, that Hector might be welcomed in the kingdom of Hades and Persephone. But the time drew nigh that the doom of Achilles must be accomplished, and the spear of Phœbus Apollo pierced his heart as they fought near the Scæan gates of Ilion. In the dust lay the body of Achilles, while the Achaians fought the whole day around it, till a mighty storm burst forth from the heaven. Then they carried it away to the ships, and placed it on a couch, and washed it in pure water. And once more from her coral caves beneath the sea rose the silver-footed Thetis, and the cry of the nymphs who followed her filled the air, so that the [734]Achaians who heard it trembled, and would have fled to the ships, but Nestor, the wise chief of the Pylians, said, "Flee not, ye Argives, for those come to mourn for the dead Achilles." So Thetis stood weeping by the body of her child, and the nymphs wrapped it in shining robes. Many days and nights they wept and watched around it, until at last they raised a great pile of wood on the sea-shore, and the flame went up to heaven. Then they gathered up the ashes, and placed them, with the ashes of Patroclus, in a golden urn which Hephaistos wrought and gave to Dionysus, and over it they raised a great cairn on the shore of the Sea of Helle, that men might see it afar off as they sailed on the broad waters.

---

THE VENGEANCE OF ODYSSEUS.

A fair breeze filled the sail of the Phæakian ship in which Odysseus lay asleep as in the dreamless slumber of the dead. The wild music of the waves rose on the air as the bark sped on its glistening pathway, but their murmur reached not the ear of the wanderer, for the spell of Athene was upon him, and all his cares and griefs were for a little while forgotten.

The dawn light was stealing across the eastern sky when the good ship rode into the haven of the sea-god, Phorkys, and rested without anchor or cable beneath the rocks which keep off the breath of the harsh winds. At the head of the little bay a broad-leaved olive tree spread its branches in front of a cave where the sea nymphs wove their beautiful purple robes. Gently the sailors raised Odysseus in their arms; gently they bore him from the ship, and placed him on the land with the gifts which Alkinous and Arete and Naosikaa had given to him when he set off to go to Ithaka. So the Phæakians went away, [735]and Odysseus rested once more in his own land. But when he awoke from his sleep, he knew not where he was, for Athene had spread a mist on land and sea. The haven, the rocks, the trees, the pathways wore a strange look in the dim and gloomy light; but while Odysseus yet pondered where he should stow away the gifts lest thieves should find them, there stood before him a glorious form, and he heard a voice, which said, "Dost thou not know me, Odysseus? I am Pallas Athene, who have stood by thy side to guard thee in all thy wanderings and deliver thee from all thy enemies. And now that thou standest again on thine own land of Ithaka, I have come to thee once more, to bid thee make ready for the great vengeance, and to bear with patience all that may befall thee until the hour be come." But Odysseus could scarcely believe that he was in Ithaka, even though it was Athene who spake to him, until she scattered the mist and showed him the fair haven with its broad-spreading olive trees, and the home of the sea nymphs, and the old hill of Neritos with its wooded sides.

[736]Then they placed the gifts of the Phæakians in the cave hard by the stream of living waters which flowed through it to the sea, and Athene touched him with a staff, and all the beauty of his form was gone. His face became seamed with wrinkles, his flashing eyes grew dim, and the golden locks vanished from his shoulders. His glistening raiment turned to noisome rags, as Athene put a beggar's wallet on his shoulder and placed a walking staff in his hand, and showed him the path which led to the house of the swineherd Eumaius.

So Odysseus went his way, but when he entered the court-yard of Eumaius in his tattered raiment, the dogs flew at him with loud barkings, until the swineherd drove them away, and led the stranger into his dwelling, where he placed a shaggy goat-skin for him to lie on. "Thou hast welcomed me kindly," said Odysseus, "the gods grant thee in return thy heart's desire." Then Eumaius answered sadly, "My friend, I may not despise a stranger though he be even poorer and meaner than myself, for it is Zeus who sends to us the poor man and the beggar. Little indeed have I to give, for so it is with bondmen when the young chiefs lord it in the land. But he is far away who loved me well and gave me all my substance. I would that the whole kindred of Helen had been uprooted from the earth, for it was for her sake that my master went to fight with the Trojans at Ilion."

Then Eumaius placed meat and wine before him. "It is but a homely meal," he said, "and a poor draught, but the chiefs who throng about my master's wife eat all the fat of the land. A brave life they have of it, for rich were the treasures which my master left in his house when he went to take vengeance for the wrongs of Helen." "Tell me thy master's name, friend," said the stranger. "If he was indeed so rich and great, I may perhaps be able to tell you something about him, for I have been a wanderer in many lands." "Why, what would be [737]the use?" answered the swineherd. "Many a vagabond comes here with trumped-up tales to my master's wife, who listens to them greedily, hoping against hope. No, he must long ago have died; but we love Odysseus still, and we call him our friend, though he is very far away." "Nay, but thou art wrong this time," said the stranger, "for I do know Odysseus, and I swear to thee that the sun shall not finish his journey through the heavens before thy lord returns." But Eumaius shook his head. "I have nothing to give you for your news. Sure I am that Odysseus will not come back. Say no more about him, for my heart is pained when any make me call to mind the friend whom I have lost. But what is your name, friend, and whence do you come?"

Then Odysseus was afraid to reveal himself, so he told him a long story how he had come from Crete, and been made a slave in Egypt, how after many years Phoinix had led him to the purple land, how Pheidon, the chief of the Thesprotians, had showed him the treasures of Odysseus, and how at last he had fallen into the hands of robbers, who had clothed him in beggarly rags and left him on the shore of Ithaka. But still Eumaius would not believe. "I can not trust your tale, my friend, when you tell me that Odysseus has sojourned in the Thesprotian land. I have had enough of such news since an Æolian came and told me that he had seen him in Crete with Idomeneus, mending the ships which had been hurt by a storm, and that he would come again to his home before that summer was ended. Many a year has passed since, and if I welcome you still, it is not for your false tidings about my master." "Well," said Odysseus, "I will make a covenant with you. If he returns this year, you shall clothe me in sound garments and send me home to Doulichion, if he does not, bid thy men hurl me from the cliffs, that beggars may learn not to tell lies." "Nay, how can I do that," said Eumaius, "when you have eaten bread in my house? Would [738]Zeus ever hear my prayer again? Tell me no more false tales, and let us talk together as friends."

Meanwhile Telemachus was far away in Sparta, whither he had gone to seek his father, Odysseus, if haply he might find him; and one night as he lay sleepless on his couch, Athene stood before him and warned him to hasten home. "The suitors are eating up thy substance, and they lie in wait that they may slay thee before the ship reaches Ithaka; but the gods who guard thee will deliver thee from them, and when thou comest to the land, go straightway to the house of Eumaius."

Then in the morning Telemachus bade farewell to Menelaus, and the fair-haired Helen placed in his hands a beautiful robe which her own fingers had wrought. "Take it," she said, "as a memorial of Helen, and give it to thy bride when thy marriage day has come." So they set off from Sparta, and came to Pylos, and there, as Telemachus offered sacrifice, the wise seer Theoklymenus stood by his side, and asked him of his name and race, and when he knew that he was the son of Odysseus he besought Telemachus to take him with him to the ship, for he had slain a man in Argos and he was flying from the avenger of blood. So Theoklymenus, the seer, came with Telemachus to Ithaka.

Then again Odysseus made trial of the friendship of Eumaius, and when the meal was over, he said, "To-morrow, early in the morning, I must go to the house of Odysseus. Therefore, let some one guide me thither. It may be that Penelope will listen to my tidings, and that the suitors will give alms to the old man. For I can serve well, my friends, and none can light a fire and heap on wood, or hand a winecup, more deftly than myself." But Eumaius was angry, and said sharply, "Why not tarry here? You annoy neither me nor my friends, and when Odysseus comes home, be sure he will give you coat and cloak and all else that you may need." And the beggar said, "God [739]reward thee, good friend, for succoring the stranger," and he asked him if the father and mother of Odysseus were yet alive. Then Eumaius told him how his mother had pined away and died after Odysseus went to Ilion, and how Laertes lingered on in a wretched and squalid old age.

But the ship of Telemachus had now reached the land, and he sent some of his men to tell Penelope that her son was come back, while he himself went to the house of Eumaius. Glad indeed was the swineherd to see him, for he had not thought to look upon his face again. And Telemachus said, "Is my mother yet in her home, or has she wedded another, and is the bridal couch of Odysseus covered with the webs of spiders?" "Nay, she is still in her home," said Eumaius; "but night and day she sheds bitter tears in her grievous sorrow." Then Telemachus spied the beggar; and when he learned his story from Eumaius, he was troubled. "What can we do with him? Shall I give him a cloak and a sword and send him away? I am afraid to take him to my father's house, for the suitors may flout and jeer him." Then the beggar put in his word: "Truly these suitors meet us at every turn. How comes it all about? Do you yield to them of your own free will, or do the people hate you, or have you a quarrel with your kinsfolk? If these withered arms of mine had but the strength of their youth, soon should some of these suitors smart for their misdeeds; and if their numbers were too great for me to deal with, better so to die than see them thus devour the land." "Nay, friend, your guesses are wrong," said Telemachus. "The people do not hate me, and I have no feud with my kindred; but these suitors have swarmed in upon us like bees from all the country round about."

Presently Eumaius rose up to go with tidings to Penelope, and when he was gone a glorious form stood before the door, but the eyes only of Odysseus saw her, and he knew that it was Pallas Athene. "The time is come," she said; "show thyself [740]to Telemachus and make ready with him for the great vengeance." Then Athene passed her golden staff over his body, and straightway his tattered raiment became a white and glistening robe. Once more the hue of youth came back to his cheek and the golden locks flowed down over his shoulders, so that Telemachus marveled, and said, "Who art thou, stranger, that thou lookest like one of the bright gods? But now thy garment was torn, and thy hands shook with age." "Nay, I am no god," answered the man of many toils and sorrows, "I am thy father." Then Odysseus kissed his son, and the tears ran down his cheek, but Telemachus would not believe. "Men change not thus," he said, "from age to youth, from squalor and weakness to strength and splendor." "It is the work of Athene," said the stranger, "who can make all things fresh and fair, and if I be not Odysseus, none other will ever come to Ithaka." Then Telemachus put his arms around his father and wept, and the cry of their weeping went up together, and Odysseus said, "The time for vengeance draws nigh. How many are these suitors?" "They may be told by scores," said Telemachus, "and what are two against so many?" "They are enough," answered Odysseus, "if only Zeus and Athene be on their side."

Then Telemachus went to the house of Odysseus, where the suitors were greatly cast down because their messengers had not been able to kill him. And Penelope came forth from her chamber, beautiful as Artemis and Aphrodite, and she kissed her son, who told her how he had journeyed to Sparta, seeking in vain for his father. But Theoklymenus, the seer, put in a word, and said, "Odysseus is now in Ithaka, and is making ready for the day of the great vengeance."

Presently Eumaius went back to his house, and there he found the beggar, for Odysseus had laid aside his glistening robe and the glory of youth had faded away again from his face. So they went to the city together, and sat by the beautiful fountain, [741]whither the people came to draw water, and Melanthius, the goatherd, as he drove the flock for the suitors, spied them out and reviled them. "Thieves love thieves, they say; where hast thou found this vagabond, friend swineherd?" and he pushed Odysseus with his heel. Then Odysseus was wroth, and would have slain him, but he restrained himself, and Eumaius prayed aloud to the nymphs that they would bring his master home. And Melanthius said, "Pray on, as thou wilt, but Telemachus shall soon lie low, for Odysseus shall see Ithaka no more." Then he drove the goats onwards to the house of Odysseus, and Eumaius and the beggar followed him, and as they communed by the way, the swineherd bade him go first into the house, lest any finding him without might jeer or hurt him. But the beggar would not. "Many a hard buffet have I had by land and by sea," he said, "and I am not soon cast down." Soon they stood before the door, and a dog worn with age strove to rise and welcome him, but his strength was gone, and Odysseus wept when he saw his hound, Argos, in such evil plight. Then, turning to Eumaius, he said, "The hound is comely in shape. Was he swift and strong in his youth?" "Never anything escaped him in the chase; but there are none to care for him now." It mattered not, for the twenty long years had come to an end, and when Argos had once more seen his master, he sank down upon the straw and died.

Then Odysseus passed into his house, and he stood a beggar in his own hall, and asked an alms from Antinous. "Give," said he, "for thou lookest like a King, and I will spread abroad thy name through the wide earth. For I, too, was rich once, and had a glorious home, and often I succored the wanderer; but Zeus took away all my wealth, and drove me forth to Cyprus and to Egypt." But Antinous thrust him aside. "What pest is this?" he said. "Stand off, old man, or thou shalt go again to an Egypt and a Cyprus which shall not be much to thy [742]liking." Then Antinous struck him on the back; but Odysseus stood firm as a rock, and he shook his head for the vengeance that was coming. But the others were angry, and said, "Thou hast done an evil deed, if indeed there be a god in heaven; nay, often in the guise of strangers the gods themselves go through the earth, watching the evil and the good."

When the tidings were brought to Penelope, she said to Eumaius, "Go call me this stranger hither, for he may have something to tell me of Odysseus." But the beggar would not go then. "Tell her," he said, "that I know her husband well, and that I have shared his troubles; but I can not talk with her before the sun goes down. At eventide she shall see me."

Then, as Odysseus sate in the hall, there came up to him the beggar Arnaius, whom the suitors called Iros because he was their messenger, and he said, "Get up, old man, and go, for the chiefs have bidden me to cast thee out; yet I would rather see thee depart of thy own will." But Odysseus said, "Nay, friend, there is room enough here for both of us. You are a beggar like me, and let us pray the gods to help us; but lay not thine hand upon me, lest I be angry and smite thee; for if I do, thou wilt not, I take it, care to come again to the house of Odysseus, the son of Laertes." But Iros looked scornfully at him, and said, "Hear how the vagabond talks, just like an old furnace woman. Come now, and gird up thyself, and let us see which is the stronger." Then Antinous, who had heard them quarreling, smiled pleasantly and called to the other suitors: "See here, the stranger and Iros are challenging each other. Let us bring them together and look on." But Iros shrank back in fear as the beggar arose, and only one feeble blow had he given, when Odysseus dashed him to the ground. Then all the suitors held up their hands and almost died with laughter, as the stranger dragged Iros from the hall, and said, "Meddle not more with other men's matters, lest a worse thing befall thee." [743]Then Odysseus gathered up his tattered garment and went and sat down again upon the threshold, while the suitors praised him with loud cheers for his exploit, and Amphinomus held out to him a goblet of rosy wine: "Drink, stranger, and mayest thou have good luck in time to come, for now thy lot is hard and gloomy enough." The kindly words stirred the beggar's heart, and he said, "Hear my counsel, Amphinomus, and trust me who have borne many griefs and sorrows and wandered in many lands since Zeus drove me from my home. Depart from these evil men who are wasting another's substance and heed not the woes that are coming, when Odysseus shall once more stand in his father's house." But Amphinomus would not hear, for so had Athene doomed that he should fall on the day of the great vengeance.

So, laughing at the beggar as he sat quietly on the threshold, the suitors feasted at the banquet table of Odysseus, till the stars looked forth in the sky. But when they were gone away to sleep, Odysseus bade Telemachus gather up their arms and place them in the inner chamber. And they carried in the spears and shields and helmets, while Athene went before with a golden lamp in her hand to light the way. And Telemachus said, "Surely some one of the blessed gods must be here, my father, for walls, beams and pillars all gleam as though they were full of eyes of blazing fire." But Odysseus bade him be silent and sleep, and Telemachus went his way, and Odysseus tarried to take counsel with Athene for the work of the coming vengeance.

Then, as he sat alone in the hall, Penelope came forth from her chamber, to hear what the stranger might tell her of Odysseus. But before she spake, Melantho reviled him as her father, Melanthius, had reviled him by the fountain, and Odysseus said, "Dost thou scorn me because my garments are torn and my face is seamed with age and sorrow? Well, I, too, have been young and strong. See, then, that the change come not on thee when [744]Odysseus returns to his home." Then Penelope asked him straightly, "Who art thou, stranger, and whence hast thou come?" And the beggar said, "Ask me not, for I have had grievous troubles, and the thought of all my woes will force the tears into my eyes, so that ye may think I am mad with misery." But Penelope urged him: "Listen to me, old man. My beauty faded away when Odysseus left me to go to Ilion, and my life has been full of woe since the suitors came thronging round me, because my husband, as they said, lived no more upon the earth. So I prayed them to let me weave a shroud for Laertes, and every night I undid the web which I had woven in the day time. Thus three years passed away, but in the fourth the suitors found out my trick, and I know not how to avoid longer the marriage which I hate. Wherefore tell me who thou art, for thou didst not spring forth a full-grown man from a tree or a stone." Then Odysseus recounted to her the tale which he had told to the swineherd, Eumaius, and the eyes of Penelope were filled with tears as the stranger spoke of the exploits of Odysseus. "Good friend," she said, "thy kindly words fall soothingly on my ear. Here shalt thou sojourn, and I will give thee a robe which I had meant for him who will come back to me no more." But Odysseus would not take it, and he strove to comfort her, till at the last he swore to her that before the year's end her husband should stand before her.

And now, at the bidding of Penelope, his old nurse, Eurykleia, came with water to wash his feet, and looking hard at him she said, "Many a stranger has come to this house, but never one so like in form and voice to my child, Odysseus," and the stranger answered, smiling, "Most folk who have seen us both have marked the likeness." So she knelt down to wash his feet, but Odysseus turned himself as much as he could from the fire, for he feared that she might see the mark of the wound which the boar's tusk had made long ago when he went to [745]Parnassus. But he strove in vain. For presently she saw the scar, and she let go his feet, and the water was spilt upon the ground, as she cried out, "It is Odysseus, and I knew him not until I saw the print of the deadly wound which Autolykus healed by [746]his wondrous power." Then Odysseus bade her be silent, for Athene had dulled the ear of Penelope that she might not hear, and he would not that any should know that the chieftain had come back to his home.

So all were gone, and Odysseus alone remained in the hall through the still hours of night. But when the morning came, the suitors again feasted at the banquet board, and many a time they reviled the beggar and Telemachus, until Penelope brought forth the bow which Iphitus, the son of Eurytus, had given to Odysseus. Then she stood before the chiefs and said, "Whoever of you can bend this bow, that man shall be my husband, and with him I will leave the home which I have loved, and which I shall still see in my dreams." But when Antinous saw it, his heart failed him, for he knew that none had ever bent the bow save Odysseus only, and he warned the suitors that it would sorely tax their strength. Then Telemachus would have made trial of the bow, but his father suffered him not. So Leiodes took it in his hand, and tried in vain to stretch it, till at last he threw it down in a rage, and said, "Penelope must find some other husband; for I am not the man." But Antinous reviled him for his faintheartedness, and made Melanthius bring fat to anoint the bow and make it supple; yet even thus they strove in vain to stretch it.

Then Odysseus went out into the courtyard, whither the cowherd and the swineherd had gone before him, and he said to them, "Friends, are ye minded to aid Odysseus if he should suddenly come to his home, or will ye take part with the men who devour his substance?" And they sware both of them that they would fight for their master to the death. Then Odysseus said, "I am that man, who after grievous woes has come back in the twentieth year to his own land; and if ye doubt, see here is the scar of the wound where the boar's tusk pierced my flesh, when I went to Parnassus in the days of my youth." When [747]they saw the scar, they threw their arms round Odysseus, and they kissed him on his head and his shoulders and wept, until he said, "Stay, friends, lest any see us and tell the suitors in the house. And now hearken to me. These men will not let me take the bow; so do thou, Eumaius, place it in my hands, and let Philoitius bar the gates of the court-yard." But within the hall Eurymachus groaned with vexation because he could not stretch the bow; and he said, "It is not that I care for Penelope, for there are many Achaian women as fair as she; but that we are all so weak in comparison of Odysseus." Then the beggar besought them that he, too, might try, and see whether the strength of his youth still remained to him, or whether his long wanderings had taken away the force of his arm. But Antinous said, "Old man, wine hath done thee harm; still it is well to drink yet more than to strive with men who are thy betters." Then said Penelope, "What dost thou fear, Antinous? Vex not thyself with the thought that the beggar will lead me away as his bride, even if he should be able to stretch the bow of Odysseus." "Nay, lady," he answered, "it is not that; but I dread lest the Achaians should say, 'The suitors could not stretch the bow, but there came a wandering beggar, who did what they strove to do in vain.'"

Then the swineherd took up the bow, but the suitors bade him lay it down again, until at last Telemachus told Eumaius to bear it to Odysseus; and as the swineherd placed it in the beggar's hands, Eurykleia shut the doors of the hall and made them fast with the tackling of a ship. Then, as Odysseus raised the bow, the thunder pealed in the heaven, and his heart rejoiced because Zeus had given him a sign of his great victory. Presently the arrow sped from the string, and Antinous lay dead upon the floor.

Then the others spake in great wrath, and said, "The vultures shall tear thy flesh this day, because thou hast slain the [748]greatest chief in Ithaka." But they knew not, as they spake thus, that the day of the great vengeance was come; and the voice of Odysseus was heard above the uproar, as he said, "Wretches, did ye fancy that I should never stand again in my own hall? Ye have wasted my substance, ye have sought to steal my wife from me, ye have feared neither gods nor men, and this is the day of your doom." The cheeks of the suitors turned ghastly pale through fear; but Eurymachus alone took courage and told Odysseus that Antinous only had done the mischief, because he wished to slay Telemachus and become King in Ithaka in the stead of Odysseus. "Spare, then, the rest, for they are thy people, and we will pay thee a large ransom." But Odysseus looked sternly at him, and said, "Not this house full of silver and gold shall stay my hand in the day of my great vengeance."

Then Eurymachus drew his sword and bade his comrades fight bravely for their lives; but again the clang of the bow was heard, and Eurymachus was stretched lifeless on the earth. So they fell, one after the other, until the floor of the hall was slippery with blood. But presently the arrows in the quiver of Odysseus were all spent, and laying his bow against the wall, he raised a great shield on his shoulder and placed a helmet on his head, and took two spears in his hand. Then Agelaus called to Melanthius, "Go up to the stair-door and shout to the people, that they may break into the hall and save us." But Melanthius said, "It can not be, for it is near the gate of the hall, and one man may guard it against a hundred. But I will bring you arms, for I know that Odysseus and his son have stowed them away in the inner chamber." Hastily he ran thither and brought forth shields and spears and helmets, and the heart of Odysseus failed him for fear as he saw the suitors donning their armor and brandishing the lances. "Who has done this?" he asked, and Telemachus answered, "It is my fault, my father. I left the [749]door ajar, but Eumaius shall go and see whether some of the women have given this help to the suitors, or whether, as I think, it be Melanthius." So Eumaius and the cowherd placed themselves on one side of the chamber door, and when Melanthius came forth with more arms for the chieftains, they caught him, and binding him with stout cords they hoisted him up to the beams and left him dangling in the air. "Keep guard there, Melanthius, all night long in thy airy hammock, and when the golden Morning comes back from the stream of Ocean you will not fail to see her."

But in the hall the troop of suitors stood facing Odysseus and Telemachus in deadly rage, and presently Athene stood before them in the likeness of Mentor. Then all besought her help, and the suitors threatened her, and said, "Be not led astray, Mentor, by the words of Odysseus, for if you side with him, we will leave you neither house nor lands, wife nor children, when we have taken vengeance for the evil deeds of the son of Laertes." But the wrath of Athene was kindled more fiercely, and she said, "Where is thy strength, Odysseus? Many a year the Trojans fell beneath the stroke of thy sword, and by thy wisdom it was that the Achaians stormed the walls of breezy Ilion. And now dost thou stand trembling in thine own hall?" Then the form of Mentor vanished, and they saw a swallow fly away above the roof-tree. In great fear the suitors took council together, and six of them stood forth and hurled their spears at Odysseus and Telemachus. But all missed their mark except Amphimedon and Ktesippus, and these wounded Telemachus on the wrist and Eumaius on the shoulder.

But once again Athene came, and this time she held aloft her awful Ægis before the eyes of the suitors, and the hearts of all fainted for fear, so that they huddled together like cattle which have heard the lion's roar, and like cattle were they slain, and the floor of the hall was floated with blood.

[750]So was the slaughter ended, and the house of Odysseus was hushed in a stillness more fearful than the din of battle, for the work of the great vengeance was accomplished.

But Penelope lay on her couch in a sweet slumber which Athene had sent to soothe her grief, and she heard not the footsteps of Eurykleia as she hastened joyously into the chamber. "Rise up, dear child, rise up. Thy heart's desire is come. Odysseus stands once more in his own home, the suitors are dead, and none are left to vex thee." But Penelope could not believe for joy and fear, even when Eurykleia told her of the mark of the boar's bite which Autolykus and his sons had healed. "Let us go, dear nurse," she said, "and see the bodies of the chieftains and the man who has slain them." So she went down into the hall, and sate down opposite to Odysseus, but she spake no word, and Odysseus also sat silent. And Telemachus said to his mother, "Hast thou no welcome for my father who has borne so many griefs since Zeus took him from his home twenty long years ago?"

And Penelope said, "My child, I can not speak, for my heart is as a stone within me; yet if it be indeed Odysseus, there are secret signs by which we shall know each other." But when she bade Eurykleia make ready the couch which lay outside the bridal chamber, Odysseus asked, hastily, "Who has moved the couch which I wrought with my own hands, when I made the chamber round the olive tree which stood in the courtyard? Scarcely could a mortal man move it, for it was heavy with gold and ivory and silver, and on it I spread a bull's hide gleaming with a purple dye."

Then Penelope wept for joy, as she sprang into his arms; for now she knew that it was indeed Odysseus who had come back in the twentieth year. Long time they wept in each other's arms; but the keen-eyed Athene kept back the bright and glistening horses of the morning, that the day might not return too soon.

[751]Then the fair Eurynome anointed Odysseus, and clothed him in a royal robe; and Athene brought back all his ancient beauty as when he went forth in his youth to Ilion. So they sat together in the light of the blazing torches, and Penelope heard from Odysseus the story of his griefs and wanderings, and she told him of her own sorrows, while he was far away in Ilion avenging the wrongs and woes of Helen. But for all his deep joy and his calm peace, Odysseus knew that here was not the place of his rest.

"The time must come," he said, "when I must go to the land where there is no sea; but the seer who told me of the things that are to be, said that my last hour should be full of light, and that I should leave my people happy."

And Penelope said, "Yet we may rejoice, my husband, that the hateful chiefs are gone who darkened thy house and devoured thy substance, and that once again I hold thee in my arms. Twenty years has Zeus grudged me this deep happiness; but never has my heart swerved from thee, nor could aught stay thee from coming again to gladden my heart as in the morning of our life and joy."

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SOLON.
(636 B.C.)

REMEMBRANCE AFTER DEATH.

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[752]

TRUE HAPPINESS.
(By Solon.)

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SOPHOCLES.

Sophocles was born at Athens B.C. 495. His father, though a poor mechanic, had the discrimination as well as generosity to bestow an excellent education upon his son, whose great powers began early to unfold themselves, and to attract the notice of the first citizens of Athens. Before he had attained his twenty-fifth year he carried off the prize in a dramatic contest against his senior, Æschylus, and his subsequent career corresponded to this splendid beginning. He is said to have composed one hundred and twenty tragedies, to have gained the first prize twenty-four times, and on other occasions to have ranked second in the list of competing poets. So excellent was his conduct, so majestic his wisdom, so exquisite his poetical capacities, so rare his skill in all the fine arts, and so uninterrupted his prosperity, that the Greeks regarded him as the peculiar favorite of heaven. He lived in the first city of Greece, and throughout her best times, commanding an admiration and love amounting to reverence. He died in extreme old age, without disease and without suffering, and was mourned with such a [753]sincerity and depth of grief as were manifested at the death of no other citizen of Athens.

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HERODOTUS.

Scarcely more is known of the celebrated historian, Herodotus, than of the illustrious poet, Homer. He was born in Asia Minor about 484 B.C.

After being well educated he commenced that course of patient and observant travel which was to render his name illustrious as a philosophic tourist and historian. The shores of the Hellespont, Scythia, and the Euxine Sea; the Isles of the Ægæan; Syria, Egypt, Palestine, Colchis, the northern parts of Africa, Ecbatana, and even Babylon were the objects of his unwearied research. On his return from his travels, after about twenty years, he settled for some time at Samos, where he wrote the nine books of his travels in those countries.

The charm of Herodotus' writings consists in the earnestness of a man who describes countries as an eye-witness, and events as one accustomed to participate in them. The life, the raciness, the vigor of an adventurer and a wanderer, glow in every page. He has none of the defining disquisitions that are born of the closet. He paints history, rather than descants on it; he throws the colorings of a mind, unconsciously poetic, over all he describes. Now a soldier—now a priest—now a patriot—he is always a poet, if rarely a philosopher. He narrates like a witness, unlike Thucydides, who sums up like a judge. No writer ever made so beautiful an application of superstitions to truths. His very credulities have a philosophy of their own; and modern historians have acted unwisely in disdaining the occasional repetition even of his fables. For if his truths record [754]the events—his fables paint the manners and the opinions of the time; and the last fill up the history, of which events are only the skeleton.

To account for his frequent use of dialogue, and his dramatic effects of narrative, we must remember the tribunal to which the work of Herodotus was subjected. Every author, unconsciously to himself, consults the tastes of those he addresses. No small coteries of scholars, no scrupulous and critical inquirers, made the ordeal Herodotus underwent. His chronicles were not dissertations to be coldly pondered over, and skeptically conned; they were read aloud at solemn festivals to listening thousands: they were to arrest the curiosity—to amuse the impatience—to stir the wonder of a lively and motley crowd. Thus the historian imbibed naturally the spirit of the tale-teller, as he was driven to embellish his history with the romantic legend—the awful superstition—the gossipy anecdote—which yet characterize the stories of the popular and oral fictionist in the bazaars of the Mussulman, or on the sea-sands of Sicily. Still it has been rightly said, that a judicious reader is not easily led astray by Herodotus in important particulars. His descriptions of localities, of manners and of customs, are singularly correct; and travelers can yet trace the vestiges of his fidelity.

Few enlightened tourists are there who can visit Egypt, Greece, and the regions of the East, without being struck by the accuracy, with the industry, with the patience of Herodotus. To record all the facts substantiated by travelers, illustrated by artists, and amplified by learned research, would be almost impossible; so abundant, so rich, has this golden mine been found, that the more its native treasures are explored, the more valuable do they appear. The oasis of Siwah, visited by Browne, Hornemann, Edmonstone, and Minutuoli; the engravings of the latter, demonstrating the co-identity of the god Ammon and the god of Thebes; the Egyptian mode of weaving, confirmed by [755]the drawings of Wilkinson and Minutuoli; the fountain of the sun, visited by Belzoni; one of the stelæ or pillars of Sesostris, seen by Herodotus in Syria, and recognized on the road to Beyrout with the hieroglyphic of Remeses still legible; the kneading of dough, drawn from a sculpture in Thebes, by Wilkinson; the dress of the lower classes, by the same author; the prodigies of Egyptian architecture at Edfou; Caillaud's discovery of Meroe in the depths of Æthiopia; these, and a host of brilliant evidences, center their once divergent rays in one flood of light upon the temple of genius reared by Herodotus, and display the goddess of Truth enshrined within.

The following are the main subjects of his nine books, which were named after the nine muses:—

Book I. Clio.—Transfer of the Lydian Kingdom from Gyges to Crœsus—minority of Cyrus—his overthrow of the Lydian power—rising greatness of Athens and Lacedæmon.

Book II. Euterpe.—Dissertation on Egypt—Egyptian customs, and the regal succession of that Empire.

Book III. Thalia.—Achievements of Cambyses—his total subjugation of Egypt—election of Darius Hystaspes to the Persian throne, then vacant by the assassination of Smerdis, the impostor.

Book IV. Melpomene.—Full narrative of the calamitous expeditions of the Persians against the Scythians in the reign of Darius Hystaspes.

Book V. Terpsichore.—The political progress of Lacedæmon, Athens and Corinth—view of their relative resources during the time of Darius—expulsion of Hippias from Athens.

Book VI. Erate.—Origin of the Kings of Lacedæmon—causes of Darius' hostility to Greece—first Persian invasion of Hellas—battle of Marathon.

Book VII. Polyhymnia.—Preparations and grand expedition of Xerxes into Greece—battle at Thermopylæ.

[756]Book VIII. Urania.—Further progress of the Persian arms—Athens captured and burned—defeat of the Persians at the sea-fight of Salamis.

Book IX. Calliope.—Defeat of the Persians at Platæa—defeat at the promontory of Mycale, and their complete retreat within their own territories.

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THE CROCODILE.
(By Herodotus.)

The following are the peculiarities of the crocodile: During the winter months they eat nothing; they are four-footed, and live indifferently on land or in the water. The female lays and hatches her eggs ashore, passing the greater portion of the day on dry land, but at night retiring to the river, the water of which is warmer than the night-air and the dew. Of all known animals this is the one which from the smallest size grows to be the greatest, for the egg of the crocodile is but little bigger than that of the goose, and the young crocodile is in proportion to the egg, yet when it is full grown, the animal measures frequently seventeen cubits, and even more. It has the eyes of a pig, teeth large and tusk-like, of a size proportioned to its frame; unlike any other animal, it is without a tongue; it can not move its under-jaw, and in this respect, too, it is singular, being the only animal in the world which moves the upper-jaw but not the under. It has strong claws and a scaly skin, impenetrable upon the back. In the water it is blind, but on land it is very keen of sight. As it lives chiefly in the river, it has the inside of its mouth constantly covered with leeches, hence it happens that, while all the other birds and beasts avoid it, with the trochilus it lives at peace, since it owes much to that bird, for the crocodile, when he leaves the water and comes out upon the land, is in the habit [757]of lying with his mouth wide open, facing the western breeze; at such times the trochilus goes into his mouth and devours the leeches. This benefits the crocodile, who is pleased, and takes care not to hurt the trochilus.

The crocodile is esteemed sacred by some of the Egyptians, by others he is treated as an enemy. Those who live near Thebes, and those who dwell around Lake Mœris, regard them with especial veneration. In each of these places they keep one crocodile in particular, who is taught to be tame and tractable. They adorn his ears with ear-rings of molten stone or gold, and put bracelets on his fore-paws, giving him daily a set portion of bread, with a certain number of victims; and, after having thus treated him with the greatest possible attention while alive, they embalm him when he dies and bury him in a sacred repository. The people of Elephantine, on the other hand, are so far from considering these animals as sacred that they even eat their flesh.

The modes of catching the crocodile are many and various. I shall only describe the one which seems to me most worthy of mention. They bait a hook with a chine of pork and let the meat be carried out into the middle of the stream, while the hunter upon the bank holds a living pig, which he belabors. The crocodile hears its cries and, making for the sound, encounters the pork, which he instantly swallows down. The men on the shore haul, and when they have got him to land, the first thing the hunter does is to plaster his eyes with mud. This once accomplished, the animal is dispatched with ease, otherwise he gives great trouble.

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[758]

ARTABANUS DISSUADES XERXES.
(By Herodotus.)

The other Persians were silent, for all feared to raise their voice against the plan proposed to them. But Artabanus, the son of Hystaspes, and uncle of Xerxes, trusting to his relationship, was bold to speak: "O King," he said, "it is impossible, if no more than one opinion is uttered, to make choice of the best; a man is forced then to follow whatever advice may have been given him, but if opposite speeches are delivered, then choice can be exercised. In like manner pure gold is not recognized by itself, but when we test it along with baser ore, we perceive which is the better. I counseled thy father, Darius, who was my own brother, not to attack the Scyths, a race of people who had no town in their own land. He thought, however, to subdue those wandering tribes, and would not listen to me, but marched an army against them, and ere he returned home lost many of his bravest warriors. Thou art about, O King, to attack a people far superior to the Scyths, a people distinguished above others both by land and sea. 'Tis fit, therefore, that I should tell thee what danger thou incurrest hereby. Thou sayest that thou wilt bridge the Hellespont, and lead thy troops through Europe against Greece.

"Now, suppose some disaster befall thee by land or sea, or by both. It may be even so, for the men are reputed valiant. Indeed one may measure their prowess from what they have already done; for when Datis and Artaphernes led their huge army against Attica, the Athenians singly defeated them. But grant they are not successful on both elements. Still, if they man their ships, and, defeating us by sea, sail to the Hellespont, and there destroy our bridge—that, sire, were a fearful hazard. And here 'tis not by my own mother wit alone that I conjecture [759]what will happen, but I remember how narrowly we escaped disaster once, when thy father, after throwing bridges over the Thracian Bosphorus and the Ister, marched against the Scythians, and they tried every sort of prayer to induce the Ionians, who had charge of the bridge over the Ister, to break the passage. On that day, if Histiæus, the King of Miletus, had sided with the other princes, and not set himself to oppose their views, the empire of the Persians would have come to naught. Surely a dreadful thing is this even to hear said, that the King's fortunes depended wholly on one man.

"Think, then, no more of incurring so great a danger when no need presses, but follow the advice I tender. Break up this meeting, and when thou hast well considered the matter with thyself, and settled what thou wilt do, declare to us thy resolve. I know not of aught in the world that so profits a man as taking good counsel with himself; for even if things fall out against one's hopes, still one has counseled well, though fortune has made the counsel of no effect: whereas, if a man counsels ill and luck follows, he has gotten a windfall, but his counsel is none the less silly. Seest thou how God with His lightning smites alway the bigger animals, and will not suffer them to wax insolent, while those of lesser bulk chafe Him not? How likewise His bolts fall ever on the highest houses and the tallest trees? So plainly does He love to bring down everything that exalts itself. Thus oft-times a mighty host is discomfitted by a few men, when God in His jealousy sends fear or storm from heaven, and they perish in a way unworthy of them. For God allows no one to have high thoughts but Himself. Again, hurry always brings about disasters, from which huge sufferings are wont to arise; but in delay lie many advantages, not apparent (it may be) at first sight, but such as in the course of time are seen of all. Such, then, is my counsel to thee, O King.

"And thou, Mardonius, son of Gobryas, forbear to speak [760]foolishly concerning the Greeks, who are men that ought not to be lightly esteemed by us. For while thou revilest the Greeks, thou dost encourage the King to lead his own troops against them; and this, as it seems to me, is what thou art specially striving to accomplish. Heaven send thou succeed not to thy wish! For slander is of all evils the most terrible. In it two men do wrong, and one man has wrong done to him. The slanderer does wrong, forasmuch as he abuses a man behind his back; and the hearer, forasmuch as he believes what he has not searched into thoroughly. The man slandered in his absence suffers wrong at the hands of both; for one brings against him a false charge, and the other thinks him an evil-doer. If, however, it must needs be that we go to war with this people, at least allow the King to abide at home in Persia. Then let thee and me both stake our children on the issue, and do thou choose out thy men, and taking with thee whatever number of troops thou likest, lead forth our armies to battle. If things go well for the King, as thou sayest they will, let me and my children be put to death; but if they fall out as I prophesy, let thy children suffer, and thou, too, if thou shalt come back alive. But shouldst thou refuse this wager, and still resolve to march an army against Greece, sure I am that some of those whom thou leavest behind thee will one day receive the sad tidings that Mardonius has brought a great disaster upon the Persian people, and lies a prey to dogs and birds somewhere in the land of the Athenians, or else in that of the Lacedæmonians; unless, indeed, thou shalt have perished sooner by the way, experiencing in thy own person the might of those men on whom thou wouldst fain induce the King to make war."

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[761]

SOCRATES.

Socrates was born at Athens about the middle or latter part of April, 469 B.C. He commanded more admiration and reverence than any other individual of ancient or modern times. By his ability and purity he emerged from a barbaric sophistry into the purest form of religion that was ever invented by man, it was nearer like that of Christ than was ever reached by mortal before. The object of his entire philosophy was the attainment of correct ideas concerning moral and religious obligations.

Although Socrates was the son of a sculptor of limited means, he was educated according to the manner of the times. Music and poetry and gymnastic exercises formed the principal part of the education of an Athenian youth, and in these Socrates was instructed.

Through the influence of Crito, a wealthy Athenian who subsequently became an intimate friend and disciple of our philosopher, he was induced to rise into a higher sphere. He then began the study of physics, mathematics, astronomy, natural philosophy, etc.

Socrates, however, was unable to obtain any satisfactory knowledge from the philosophers and teachers of his time. Dissatisfied with the pretended wisdom of the Cosmologists and Sophists he entirely abandoned all speculative subjects and devoted his entire attention to human affairs, and his earnestness as a social reformer brought upon him increasing odium from the "Conservatives" of the day, as well as from that still larger class whose feelings of malice and revenge towards those who expose their follies and their vices, their wicked private customs and public institutions, can never be appeased but with the death [762]of their victim. Accordingly, prejudice, unpopularity and hate finally prevailed, and two charges were brought against him, one of not believing in the national deities and the other of corrupting the youth. That he did not believe in the idols that most [763]of his contemporaries worshiped, is true; but that he corrupted the youth was as absurd as false, for all his teachings tended ever to purify them, and lead them in the paths of virtue and truth. He defended himself, and his defense is a perfect whole, neither more nor less than what it ought to have been. Proudly conscious of his innocence, he sought not to move the pity of his judges, for he cared not for acquittal, and "exhibited that union of humility and high-mindedness which is observable in none, perhaps, with the exception of St. Paul." His speech availed not, and he was condemned to drink the hemlock. He continued in prison thirty days before the sentence was executed, and to this interval we are indebted for that sublime conversation on the immortality of the soul which Plato has embodied in his Phædo.

At length the fatal day arrived, when he had reached his full three score years and ten. Refusing all means of escape to which his friends continually and importunely urged him, he took the poisoned cup from the hands of the boy who brought it to him in his prison-chamber, drank it off calmly amid the tears and sobs of surrounding friends, walked about till the draught had begun to take effect upon his system, and then laid himself down upon his bed, and soon breathed his last. Such was the life and such the death of this great man. It has been felt as the greatest of all human examples, not only by his own countrymen, but by the whole civilized world.

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SOCRATES AND ARISTODEMUS.
(By Socrates.)

We will now relate the manner in which Socrates discoursed with Aristodemus, surnamed the Little, concerning the Deity. For, observing that he neither prayed nor sacrificed to the gods [764]nor yet consulted any oracle, but, on the contrary, ridiculed and laughed at those who did, he said to him:

"Tell me, Aristodemus, is there any man whom you admire on account of his merit?"

Aristodemus having answered, "Many."—"Name some of them, I pray you."

"I admire," said Aristodemus, "Homer for his epic poetry, Melanippides for his dithyrambics, Sophocles for tragedy, Polycletes for statuary, and Xeuxis for painting."

"But which seems to you most worthy of admiration, Aristodemus—the artist who forms images void of motion and intelligence, or one who hath the skill to produce animals that are endued, not only with activity, but understanding."

"The latter, there can be no doubt," replied Aristodemus, "provided the production was not the effect of chance, but of wisdom and contrivance."

"But since there are many things, some of which we can easily see the use of, while we can not say of others to what purpose they were produced, which of these, Aristodemus, do you suppose the work of wisdom?"

"It should seem the most reasonable to affirm it of those whose fitness and utility is so evidently apparent."

"But it is evidently apparent, that He, who at the beginning made man, endued him with senses because they were good for him; eyes, wherewith to behold whatever was visible; and ears, to hear whatever was to be heard. For say, Aristodemus, to what purpose should odors be prepared, if the sense of smelling had been denied? Or why the distinctions of bitter and sweet, of savory and unsavory, unless a palate had been likewise given, conveniently placed, to arbitrate between them, and declare the difference? Is not that Providence, Aristodemus, in a most eminent manner conspicuous, which, because the eye of man is so delicate in its contexture, hath therefore prepared [765]eyelids like doors, whereby to secure it; which extend of themselves whenever it is needful, and again close when sleep approaches? Are not these eyelids provided, as it were, with a fence on the edge of them, to keep off the wind and guard the eye? Even the eyebrow itself is not without office, but, as a penthouse, is prepared to turn off the sweat, which, falling from the forehead, might enter and annoy that no less tender than astonishing part of us! Is it not to be admired that the ears should take in sounds of every sort, and yet are not too much filled by them? That the fore-teeth of the animal should be formed in such a manner as evidently best suited for the cutting of its food, and those on the side for grinding it in pieces? That the mouth, through which this food is conveyed, should be placed so near the nose and the eyes, as to prevent the passing, unnoticed, whatever is unfit for nourishment; while Nature, on the contrary, hath set at a distance, and concealed from the senses, all that might disgust them? And canst thou still doubt, Aristodemus! whether a disposition of parts like this should be the work of chance, or of wisdom and contrivance?"

"I have no longer any doubt," replied Aristodemus; "and, indeed, the more I consider it, the more evident it appears to me, that man must be the masterpiece of some great Artificer, carrying along with it infinite marks of love and favor of Him who hath thus formed it."

"And what thinkest thou, Aristodemus, of that desire in the individual which leads to the continuance of the species? Of that tenderness and affection in the female towards her young, so necessary for its preservation? Of that unremitted love of life, and dread of dissolution, which take such strong possession of us from the moment we begin to be?"

"I think of them," answered Aristodemus, "as so many regular operations of the same great and wise Artist, deliberately determining to preserve what He hath once made."

[766]"But, farther (unless thou desirest to ask me questions), seeing, Aristodemus, thou thyself art conscious of reason and intelligence, supposest thou there is no intelligence elsewhere? Thou knowest thy body to be a small part of that wide-extended earth which thou everywhere beholdest; the moisture contained in it, thou also knowest to be a small portion of that mighty mass of waters whereof seas themselves are but a part, while the rest of the elements contribute, out of their abundance, to thy formation. It is the soul, then, alone, that intellectual part of us, which is come to thee by some lucky chance, from I know not where. If so be, there is indeed no intelligence elsewhere; and we must be forced to confess, that this stupendous universe, with all the various bodies contained therein—equally amazing, whether we consider their magnitude or number, whatever their use, whatever their order—all have been produced, not by intelligence, but chance!"

"It is with difficulty that I can suppose otherwise," returned Aristodemus, "for I behold none of those gods, whom you speak of as making and governing all things, whereas I see the artists when at their work here among us."

"Neither yet seest thou thy soul, Aristodemus, which, however, most assuredly governs thy body: although it may well seem, by thy manner of talking, that it is chance, and not reason, which governs thee."

"I do not despise the gods," said Aristodemus; "on the contrary, I conceive so highly of their excellence, as to suppose they stand in no need of either me or of my services."

"Thou mistakest the matter, Aristodemus; the greater magnificence they have shown in their care of thee, so much the more honor and service thou owest them."

"Be assured," said Aristodemus, "if I once could be persuaded the gods took care of man, I should want no monitor to remind me of my duty."

[767]"And canst thou doubt, Aristodemus, if the gods take care of man? Hath not the glorious privilege of walking upright been alone bestowed on him, whereby he may, with the better advantage, survey what is around him, contemplate, with more ease, those splendid objects which are above, and avoid the numerous ills and inconveniences which would otherwise befall him? Other animals, indeed, they have provided with feet, by which they may remove from one place to another; but to man they have also given hands, with which he can form many things for his use, and make himself happier than creatures of any other kind. A tongue hath been bestowed on every other animal, but what animal, except man, hath the power of forming words with it, whereby to explain his thoughts, and make them intelligible to others? And to show that the gods have had regard to his very pleasures, they have not limited them, like those of other animals, to times and seasons, but man is left to indulge in them whenever not hurtful to him.

"But it is not with respect to the body alone that the gods have shown themselves thus bountiful to man! Their most excellent gift is that soul they have infused into him, which so far surpasses what is elsewhere to be found. For, by what animal, except man, is even the existence of those gods discovered, who have produced, and still uphold, in such regular order, this beautiful and stupendous frame of the universe? What other species of creatures are to be found that can serve, that can adore them? What other animal is able, like man, to provide against the assaults of heat and cold, of thirst and hunger? That can lay up remedies for the time of sickness and improve the strength nature hath given by a well-proportioned exercise? That can receive, like him, information and instruction, or so happily keep in memory what he hath seen, and heard, and learnt? These things being so, who seeth not that man is, as it were, a god in the midst of this visible creation; so far doth he surpass, whether [768]in the endowments of soul or body, all animals whatsoever that have been produced therein! For, if the body of the ox had been joined to the mind of man, the acuteness of the latter would have stood him in small stead, while unable to execute the well-designed plan; nor would the human form have been of more use to the brute, so long as it remained destitute of understanding! But in thee, Aristodemus, hath been joined to a wonderful soul, a body no less wonderful, and sayest thou, after this, 'the gods take no thought for me!' What wouldst thou, then, more to convince thee of their care?"

"I would they should send, and inform me," said Aristodemus, "what things I ought or ought not to do in like manner as thou sayest they frequently do to thee."

"And what then, Aristodemus! Supposest thou, that when the gods give out some oracle to all the Athenians, they mean it not for thee? If, by their prodigies, they declare aloud to all Greece—to all mankind—the things which shall befall them, are they dumb to thee alone? And art thou the only person whom they have placed beyond their care? Believest thou they would have wrought into the mind of man a persuasion of their being able to make him happy or miserable, if so be they had no such power? or would not even man himself, long ere this, have seen through the gross delusion? How is it, Aristodemus, thou rememberest, or remarkest not, that the kingdoms and commonwealths most renowned as well for their wisdom as antiquity, are those whose piety and devotion hath been the most observable? And why thinkest thou that the providence of God may not easily extend itself throughout the whole universe? As, therefore, among men, we make best trial of the affection and gratitude of our neighbor, by showing him kindness, and discover his wisdom, by consulting him in our distress; do thou, in like manner, behave towards the gods, and, if thou wouldst experience what their wisdom, and what their love, render thyself [769]deserving the communication of some of those divine secrets which may not be perpetrated by man, and are imparted to those alone who consult, who adore, who obey the Deity. Then shalt thou, my Aristodemus, understand there is a Being whose eye pierceth throughout all nature, and whose ear is open to every sound; extended to all places; extending through all time, and whose bounty and care can know no other bounds than those fixed by his own creation!"

By this discourse, and others of the like nature, Socrates taught his friends that they were not only to forbear whatever was impious, unjust, or unbecoming before men; but even, when alone, they ought to have a regard to their actions; since the gods have their eyes continually upon us, and none of our designs can be concealed from them.

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EURIPIDES.

Euripides flourished about 450 B.C.; was born 480 B.C. He spent his youth in the highest mental and physical training. He was a native of Athens, and enjoyed the most glorious days of her annals, being brought in direct connection with Æschylus and Sophocles, and in his older days was a pupil of Socrates.

In comparing Euripides and the other two masters in Grecian tragedy, it may be said that he ranks first in tragic representation and effect; Sophocles first in dramatic symmetry and ornament; Æschylus first in poetic vigor and grandeur. Æschylus was the most sublime; Sophocles the most beautiful; Euripides the most pathetic. The first displays the lofty intellect; the second exercises the cultivated taste; the third indulges the feeling heart. Each, as it were, shows a fine piece of sculpture. In Æschylus, it is a naked hero, with all the strength, boldness, [770]and dignity of olden time. In Sophocles and Euripides, it may be perhaps the same hero; but with the former, he has put on the flowing robes, the elegant address, and the soft urbanity of a polished age; with the latter, he is yielding to some melancholy emotion, ever heedless of his posture or gait, and casting his unvalued drapery negligently about him. They have been compared by an illustration from another art: "The sublime and daring Æschylus resembles some strong and impregnable castle situated on a rock, whose martial grandeur awes the beholder—its battlements defended by heroes, and its gates proudly hung with trophies." Sophocles appears with splendid dignity, like some imperial palace of richest architecture; the symmetry of the parts and the chaste magnificence of the whole delight the eye and command the approbation of the judgment. The pathetic and moral Euripides has the solemnity of a Gothic temple, whose storied windows admit a dim religious light, enough to show its high embowed roof, and the monuments of the dead which rise in every part, impressing our minds with pity and terror as emblems of the uncertain and short duration of human greatness, and with an awful sense of our own mortality.

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ARISTOPHANES.

Very little is known about the life of Aristophanes. He was born about 444 B.C., and devoted himself to comic poetry. He wrote fifty-four plays, of which eleven are extant.

The comedies of Aristophanes are universally regarded as the standard of Attic writing in its greatest purity. His genius was vast, versatile, and original, and his knowledge of human nature surpassed by Homer and Shakspeare alone.

The noble tone of morals, the elevated taste, the sound [771]political wisdom, the boldness and acuteness of the satire, the grand object, which is seen throughout, of correcting the follies of the day, and improving the condition of his country—all these are features in Aristophanes, which, however disguised, as they intentionally are, by coarseness and buffoonery, entitle him to the highest respect from every reader of antiquity. He condescended, indeed, to play the part of jester to the Athenian tyrant. But his jests were the vehicles for telling to them the soundest truths. They were never without a far higher aim than to raise a momentary laugh. He was no farce writer, but a deep philosophical politician; grieved and ashamed at the condition of his country, and through the stage, the favorite amusement of Athenians, aiding to carry on the one great common work, which Plato proposed in his dialogues, and in which all the better and nobler spirits of the time seem to have concurred as by a confederacy—the reformation of an atrocious democracy. There is as much system in the comedies of Aristophanes as in the dialogues of Plato. Every part of a vitiated public mind is exposed in its turn. Its demagogues in the Knights, its courts of justice in the Wasps, its foreign policy in the Acharnians, its tyranny over the allies in the Birds, the state of female society in the Sysistrate and the Ecclesiazusæ, and its corrupt poetical taste in the Frogs. No one play is without its definite object; and the state of national education, as the greatest cause of all, is laid open in the Clouds. Whatever light is thrown, by that admirable play, upon the character of Socrates, and the position which he occupies in the Platonic Dialogues—a point, it may be remarked, on which the greatest mistakes are daily made—it is chiefly valuable as exhibiting, in a short but very complete analysis, and by a number of fine Rembrandt-like strokes, not any of which must be overlooked, all the features of that frightful school of sophistry, which at that time was engaged systematically in corrupting the Athenian youth, and against which the whole battery of Plato was pointedly directed.

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[772]

PLATO.

Plato was born in the year 429 B.C., and died when he was eighty-two years old, on his birthday. He was a pupil of Socrates, the first and purest of moral philosophers. By the rare union of a brilliant imagination with a fondness for severe mathematical studies and profound metaphysical investigations; by extensive foreign travel; by familiar intercourse with the most enlightened men of his time, particularly Socrates, whose instructive conversations he attended for eight years, as well as by the correspondence which he maintained with the Pythagoreans of Magna Græcia, this great philosopher came to surpass all others in the vastness and profoundness of his views, and in the correctness and eloquence with which he expressed them; while his pure moral character entitled him to take his place by the side of Socrates. Socrates once said, "For what higher reward could a teacher ask than to have such pupils as Xenophon and Plato?"

The object of Plato was evidently the noble one of placing before man a high intellectual, and consequently, by implication, a high moral standard as the end and object of his aspirations; to encourage his efforts after the true, the pure, the beautiful, and the virtuous, knowing that the character would be purified in the endeavor, and that the consciousness of the progress made, step by step, would be of itself a reward. The object of science was, as he taught, the true, the eternal, the immutable, that which is; in one alone could these attributes be found united—that is God. Man's duty, then, according to the Platonic system is to know God and His attributes, and to aim at being under the practical influence of this knowledge. This the Christian is taught, but much more simply and plainly, to know God, and [773]Jesus Christ whom He hath sent, and to propose to himself a perfect standard, to be perfect even as his Father in heaven is perfect, and to look forward, by that help which Plato had no warrant to look for, to attain the perfect measure of the fulness of Christ. Although Plato believed and taught that man ought to strive after and devote himself to the contemplation of the One, the Eternal, the Infinite, he was humbly conscious that no one could attain to the perfection of such knowledge; that it is too wonderful and excellent for human powers. Man's incapacity for apprehending this knowledge he attributed to the soul, during his present state of existence, being cramped and confined by its earthly tabernacle.

Plato defined virtue to be the imitation of God, or the free effort of man to attain to a resemblance to his original, or, in other terms, a unison and harmony of all our principles and actions according to reason, whence results the highest degree of happiness. Evil is opposed to this harmony as a disease of the soul. Virtue is one, indeed, but compounded of four elements—wisdom, courage, temperance, and justice. In his practical philosophy he blended a rigid principle of moral obligation with a spirit of gentleness and humanity; and education he described as a liberal cultivation and moral discipline of the mind. Politics he defined to be the application, on a great scale, of the laws of morality; for a society, being composed of individuals, is under similar moral obligations, and the end of politics to be liberty and concord. Beauty he considered to be the sensible representation of moral and physical perfection; consequently it is one with truth and goodness, and inspires love, which leads to virtue.

Would that many so-called Christian legislators and Christian people would go to this "heathen" philosopher and learn of him—learn that to do right is always and ever the highest safety, the highest expediency, the highest "conservatism," the highest good!

[774]How beautifully Akenside expresses this:—

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THE PERFECT BEAUTY.
(By Plato.)

"He who aspires to love rightly, ought from his earliest youth to seek an intercourse with beautiful forms, and first to make a single form the object of his love, and therein to generate intellectual excellencies. He ought, then, to consider that beauty in whatever form it resides is the brother of that beauty which subsists in another form; and if he ought to pursue that which is beautiful in form, it would be absurd to imagine that beauty is not one and the same thing in all forms, and would therefore remit much of his ardent preference towards one, through his perception of the multitude of claims upon his love. In addition, he would consider the beauty which is in souls more excellent than that which is in form. So that one endowed with an admirable soul, even though the flower of the form were [775]withered, would suffice him as the object of his love and care, and the companion with whom he might seek and produce such conclusions as tend to the improvement of youth; so that it might be led to observe the beauty and the conformity which there is in the observation of its duties and the laws, and to esteem little the mere beauty of the outward form. He would then conduct his pupil to science, so that he might look upon the loveliness of wisdom; and that contemplating thus the universal beauty, no longer would he unworthily and meanly enslave himself to the attractions of one form in love, nor one subject of discipline or science, but would turn towards the wide ocean of intellectual beauty, and from the sight of the lovely and majestic forms which it contains, would abundantly bring forth his [776]conceptions in philosophy; until, strengthened and confirmed, he should at length steadily contemplate one science which is the science of this universal beauty.

"Attempt, I entreat you, to mark what I say with as keen an observation as you can. He who has been disciplined to this point in love, by contemplating beautiful objects gradually, and in their order, now arriving at the end of all that concerns love, on a sudden beholds a beauty wonderful in its nature. This is it, O Socrates, for the sake of which all the former labors were endured. It is eternal, unproduced, indestructible; neither subject to increase nor decay; not, like other things, partly beautiful and partly deformed; not at one time beautiful and at another time not; not beautiful in relation to one thing and deformed in relation to another; not here beautiful and there deformed; not beautiful in the estimation of one person and deformed in that of another; nor can this supreme beauty be figured to the imagination like a beautiful face, or beautiful hands, or any portion of the body, nor like any discourse, nor any science. Nor does it subsist in any other that lives or is, either in earth, or in heaven, or in any other place; but it is eternally uniform and consistent, and monoeidic with itself. All other things are beautiful through a participation of it, with this condition, that although they are subject to production and decay, it never becomes more or less, or endures any change. When any one, ascending from a correct system of love, begins to contemplate this supreme beauty, he already touches the consummation of his labor. For such as discipline themselves upon this system, or are conducted by another beginning to ascend through these transitory objects which are beautiful, towards that which is beauty itself, proceeding as on steps from the love of one form to that of two, and from that of two, to that of all forms which are beautiful; and from beautiful forms to beautiful habits and institutions, and from institutions to beautiful doctrines; until, from the [777]meditation of many doctrines, they arrive at that which is nothing else than the doctrine of the supreme beauty itself, in the knowledge and contemplation of which at length they repose.

"Such a life as this, my dear Socrates," exclaimed the stranger Prophetess, "spent in the contemplation of the beautiful, is the life for men to live; which, if you chance ever to experience, you will esteem far beyond gold and rich garments, and even those lovely persons whom you and many others now gaze on with astonishment, and are prepared neither to eat nor drink so that you may behold and live forever with these objects of your love! What, then, shall we imagine to be the aspect of the supreme beauty itself, simple, pure, uncontaminated with the intermixture of human flesh and colors, and all other idle and unreal shapes attendant on mortality; the divine, the original, the supreme, the monoeidic beautiful itself? What must be the life of him who dwells with and gazes on that which it becomes us all to seek? Think you not that to him alone is accorded the prerogative of bringing forth, not images and shadows of virtue, for he is in contact not with a shadow but with reality; with virtue itself, in the production and nourishment of which he becomes dear to the gods, and if such a privilege is conceded to any human being, himself immortal?"—From the Banquet, translated by the poet Shelley.

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THE LAST HOURS OF SOCRATES.
(By Plato.)

"When the dead arrive at the place to which their demon leads them severally, first of all they are judged, as well those who have lived well and piously, as those who have not. And those who appear to have passed a middle kind of life, [778]proceeding to Acheron, and embarking in the vessels they have, on these arrive at the lake, and there dwell, and when they are purified, and have suffered punishment for the iniquities they may have committed, they are set free, and each receives the reward of his good deeds, according to his deserts; but those who appear to be incurable, through the magnitude of their offences, either from having committed many and great sacrileges, or many unjust and lawless murders, or other similar crimes, these a suitable destiny hurls into Tartarus, whence they never come forth. But those who appear to have been guilty of curable, yet great offences, such as those who through anger have committed any violence against father or mother, and have lived the remainder of their life in a state of penitence, or they who have become homicides in a similar manner, these must fall into Tartarus, but after they have fallen, and have been there for a year, the wave casts them forth, the homicides into Cocytus, but the parricides and matricides into Pyriphlegethon; but when, being borne along, they arrive at the Acherusian lake, there they cry out to and invoke, some those whom they slew, others those whom they injured, and invoking them, they entreat and implore them to suffer them to go out into the lake, and to receive them, and if they persuade them, they go out, and are freed from their sufferings, but if not, they are borne back to Tartarus, and thence again into the rivers, and they do not cease from suffering this until they have persuaded those whom they have injured; for this sentence was imposed upon them by the judges. But those who are found to have lived an eminently holy life, these are they, who, being freed and set at large from these regions in the earth, as from prison, arrive at the pure abode above, and dwell on the upper parts of the earth. And among these, they who have sufficiently purified themselves by philosophy shall live without bodies, throughout all future time, and shall arrive at habitations yet more beautiful than these, which it is neither easy to describe, nor at present is there sufficient time for the purpose.

[779]"But for the sake of these things which we have described, we should use every endeavor, Simmias, so as to acquire virtue and wisdom in this life; for the reward is noble, and the hope great.

"To affirm positively, indeed, that these things are exactly as I have described them, does not become a man of sense; that however either this, or something of the kind, takes place with respect to our souls and their habitations—since our soul is certainly immortal—this appears to me most fitting to be believed, and worthy the hazard for one who trusts in its reality; for the hazard is noble, and it is right to allure ourselves with such things, as with enchantments; for which reason I have prolonged my story to such a length. On account of these things, then, a man ought to be confident about his soul, who during this life has disregarded all the pleasures and ornaments of the body as foreign from his nature, and who, having thought that they do more harm than good, has zealously applied himself to the acquirement of knowledge, and who having adorned his soul not with a foreign but its own proper ornament, temperance, justice, fortitude, freedom, and truth, thus waits for his passage to Hades, as one who is ready to depart whenever destiny shall summon him. You then," he continued, "Simmias and Cebes, and the rest, will each of you depart at some future time; but now destiny summons me, as a tragic writer would say, and it is nearly time for me to betake myself to the bath; for it appears to me to be better to drink the poison after I have bathed myself, and not to trouble the women with washing my dead body."

When he had thus spoken, Crito said, "So be it, Socrates; but what commands have you to give to these or to me, either respecting your children, or any other matter, in attending to which we can most oblige you?"

"What I always say, Crito," he replied, "nothing new; that by taking care of yourselves you will oblige both me and [780]mine and yourselves, whatever you do, though you should not now promise it; but if you neglect yourselves, and will not live as it were in the footprints of what has been now and formerly said, even though you should promise much at present, and that earnestly, you will do no good at all."

"We will endeavor then so to do," he said; "but how shall we bury you?"

"Just as you please," he said, "if only you can catch me, and I do not escape from you." And at the same time smiling gently, and looking round on us, he said, "I can not persuade Crito, my friends, that I am that Socrates who is now conversing with you, and who methodizes each part of the discourse; but he thinks that I am he whom he will shortly behold dead, and asks how he should bury me. But that which I some time since argued at length, that when I have drunk the poison I shall no longer remain with you, but shall depart to some happy state of the blessed, this I seem to have urged to him in vain, though I meant at the same time to console both you and myself. Be ye, then, my sureties to Crito," he said, "in an obligation contrary to that which he made to the judges; for he undertook that I should remain; but do you be sureties that, when I die, I shall not remain, but shall depart, that Crito may more easily bear it, and when he sees my body either burned or buried, may not be afflicted for me, as if I suffered some dreadful thing, nor say at my interment that Socrates is laid out, or is carried out, or is buried. For be well assured," he said, "most excellent Crito, that to speak improperly is not only culpable as to the thing itself, but likewise occasions some injury to our souls. You must have a good courage, then, and say that you bury my body, and bury it in such a manner as is pleasing to you, and as you think is most agreeable to our laws."

When he had said this, he rose, and went into a chamber to bathe, and Crito followed him, but he directed us to wait for [781]him. We waited, therefore, conversing among ourselves about what had been said, and considering it again, and sometimes speaking about our calamity, how severe it would be to us, sincerely thinking that, like those who are deprived of a father, we should pass the rest of our lives as orphans. When he had bathed, and his children were brought to him, for he had two little sons and one grown up, and the women belonging to his family were come, having conversed with them in the presence of Crito, and giving them such injunctions as he wished, he directed the women and children to go away, and then returned to us. And it was now near sunset; for he spent a considerable time within. But when he came from bathing he sat down, and did not speak much afterwards. Then the officer of the Eleven came in, and, standing near him, said, "Socrates, I shall not have to find that fault with you that I do with others, that they are angry with me, and curse me, when, by order of the archons, I bid them drink the poison. But you, on all other occasions during the time you have been here, I have found to be the most noble, meek, and excellent man of all that ever came into this place; and, therefore, I am now well convinced that you will not be angry with me, for you know who are to blame, but with them. Now, then, for you know what I came to announce to you, farewell, and endeavor to bear what is inevitable as easily as possible." And at the same time, bursting into tears he turned away and withdrew.

And Socrates, looking after him, said, "And thou, too, farewell; we will do as you direct." At the same time turning to us, he said, "How courteous this man is; during the whole time I have been here he has visited me, and conversed with me sometimes, and proved the worthiest of men; and now how generously he weeps for me. But come, Crito, let us obey him, and let some one bring the poison, if it is ready pounded, but if not, let the man pound it."

[782]Then Crito said, "But I think, Socrates, that the sun is still on the mountains, and has not yet set. Besides, I know that others have drank the poison very late, after it had been announced to them, and have supped and drank freely. Do not hasten, then, for there is yet time."

Upon this Socrates replied, "These men whom you mention, Crito, do these things with good reason, for they think they shall gain by so doing, and I, too, with good reason shall not do so; for I think I shall gain nothing by drinking a little later, except to become ridiculous to myself, in being so fond of life, and sparing of it when none any longer remains. Go, then," he said, "obey, and do not resist."

Crito having heard this, nodded to the boy that stood near. And the boy having gone out, and stayed for some time, came, bringing with him the man that was to administer the poison, who brought it ready pounded in a cup. And Socrates, on seeing the man, said, "Well, my good friend, as you are skilled in these matters, what must I do?"

"Nothing else," he replied, "than, when you have drank it, walk about until there is a heaviness in your legs, then lie down: thus it will do its purpose." And at the same time he held out the cup to Socrates. And he having received it very cheerfully, neither trembling, nor changing at all in color or countenance, but, as he was wont, looking steadfastly at the man, said, "What say you of this potion, with respect to making a libation to any one, is it lawful or not?"

"We only pound so much, Socrates," he said, "as we think sufficient to drink."

"I understand you," he said, "but it is certainly both lawful and right to pray to the gods that my departure hence thither may be happy; which therefore I pray, and so may it be." And as he said this he drank it off readily and calmly. Thus far, most of us were with difficulty able to restrain ourselves from [783]weeping; but when we saw him drinking, and having finished the draught, we could do so no longer; but in spite of myself the tears came in full torrent, so that, covering my face, I wept for myself, for I did not weep for him, but for my own fortune, in being deprived of such a friend. But Crito, even before me, when he could not restrain his tears, had risen up. But Apollodorus even before this had not ceased weeping, and then bursting into an agony of grief, weeping and lamenting, he pierced the heart of every one present, except Socrates himself. But he said, "What are you doing, my admirable friends? I indeed for this reason chiefly, sent away the women, that they might not commit any folly of this kind. For I have heard that it is right to die with good omens. Be quiet, therefore, and bear up."

When we heard this we were ashamed, and restrained our tears. But he, having walked about, when he said that his legs were growing heavy, laid down on his back; for the man so directed him. And at the same time he who gave him the poison, taking hold of him, after a short interval examined his feet and legs; and then having pressed his foot hard, he asked if he felt it; he said that he did not. And after this he pressed his thighs; and thus going higher, he showed us that he was growing cold and stiff. Then Socrates touched himself, and said that when the poison reached his heart he should then depart. But now the parts around the lower belly were almost cold; when, uncovering himself, for he had been covered over, he said, and they were his last words, "Crito, we owe a cock to Æsculapius; pay it, therefore, and do not neglect it."

"It shall be done," said Crito, "but consider whether you have any thing else to say."

To this question he gave no reply, but shortly after he gave a convulsive movement, and the man covered him, and his eyes were fixed, and Crito, perceiving it, closed his mouth and eyes.

[784]This, Echecrates, was the end of our friend, a man, as we may say, the best of all of his time that we have known, and, moreover, the most wise and just.

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DEMOSTHENES.

Demosthenes was born 382 B.C. and died 322 B.C., at the age of sixty. His father died when he was but seven years old and left his son a large estate, which was squandered by his guardians.

Demosthenes, most happily, was forced to depend upon the resources of his own intellect, and determined to devote his life to oratory. He chose Isæus for his master, and though having a weakly constitution, and an impediment in his speech, yet by steady, persevering effort, and daily practice, he brought himself to address without embarrassment, and with complete success, the assembled multitudes of the Athenian people. His first attempts at oratory were made to vindicate his own claims, and recover the property which his guardians had appropriated to themselves. In this he proved entirely successful. After this, he displayed his ability as an orator on several public occasions, and succeeded by the power of his eloquence in preventing the Athenians from engaging in a war with Persia.

But most of the oratorical efforts of Demosthenes were directed to rouse the Athenians from indolence, and to arm them [785]against the insidious designs and ambitious schemes of Philip, who, in the year 358 B.C., began the attack upon the northern maritime allies of Athens.

In modern times, Lord Chatham's speech on American affairs, delivered in the House of Lords, November 18, 1877; Edmund Burke's, on the "Nabob of Arcot's Debts," delivered in the House of Commons, February 28, 1785; Fisher Ames', on the "British Treaty," delivered in our House of Representatives, April 28, 1796; Daniel Webster's, on the "Public Lands," delivered in the United States Senate, 1830, and Charles Sumner's, on the infamous "Fugitive Slave Bill," delivered in the Senate in 1852, will, for effective, brilliant, and logical eloquence, rank side by side with the masterly efforts of Demosthenes.

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PHILIP AND THE ATHENIANS.
(Oration of Demosthenes.)

If any one of you, Athenians, think that Philip is hard to struggle with, considering both the magnitude of the power already to his hand and the fact that all the strong places are lost to our state—he thinks rightly enough. But let him take this into account: that we ourselves, Athenians, once held Pydna, and Potidæa, and Methone, and all that country—as it were in our own home-circle; and many of the states now under his sway were beginning to be self-ruled and free, and preferred to hold friendly relations with us rather than with him. Now, then, if Philip had harbored at that time the idea that it was hard to struggle with the Athenians when they had such strongholds in his country, while he was destitute of allies—he would have effected none of those things which he has accomplished, nor would he have ever acquired so great power. But he at least knew this well enough, Athenians—that all these strongholds are [786]prizes of war open to each contestant, and that naturally the possessions of the absent fall to those who are on the spot, and the opportunities of the careless are seized by those willing to work and to risk. It has been so in his case, for, possessed by such sentiments, he has thoroughly subdued and now holds all places; some, as one might hold them in his grasp by custom of war; others, by having made them allies and friends. No wonder; for all are ready to give their heartfelt adherence to those whom they see prepared and ready to do what necessity demands.

In like manner, if you, also, Athenians, are now ready to adopt the same principle (since, alas! you were not before), and each one of you, throwing away all dissimulation, is ready to show himself useful to the state, as far as its necessity and his power extend; if each is ready to do—the rich to contribute, those of serviceable age to take the field; in a word, if you choose to be your own masters, and each individual ceases to do nothing, hoping that his neighbor will do all for him—you will both regain your possessions (with heaven's permission) and recover your opportunities recklessly squandered; you will take vengeance on HIM.

Do not suppose his present happy fortune immutable—immortal, like a god's; on the other hand, some hate him, others fear him, Athenians, and envy him, and that, too, in the number of those who seem on intimate terms with him; for all those passions that rage in other men, we may assume to be hidden in the bosoms of those also that surround him. Now, however, all these passions have crouched before him, having no escape on account of your laziness and indifference, which, I repeat, you ought immediately to abandon. For you see the state of things, Athenians, to what a pitch of arrogance he has come—this man who gives you no choice to act or to remain quiet, but brags about and talks words of overwhelming insolence, as they tell us. He is not such a character as to rest with the possessions which [787]he has conquered, but is always compassing something else, and at every point hedging us, dallying and supine, in narrower and narrower circles. When, then, Athenians, when will you do what you ought? As soon as something happens? As soon, great Jove! as necessity compels you? Why, what does necessity compel you to think now of your deeds? In my opinion, the most urgent necessity to freemen is the disgrace attendant upon their public policy.

Or do you prefer—tell me, do you prefer to wander about here and there, asking in the market-place, "What news? what news?" What can be newer than that a Macedonian should crush Athenians in war and lord it over all Greece? "Is Philip dead?" "No, by Jove, but he's sick." What difference is it to you? what difference? For if anything should happen to him, you would quickly raise up another Philip, if you manage your public affairs as you now do. For not so much to his own strength as to your laziness does he owe his present aggrandizement.

Yet even if anything should happen to him, and fortune begin to favor us (for she has always cared for us more kindly than we for ourselves); you know that by being nearer to them you could assert your power over all these disordered possessions, and could dictate what terms you might choose; but as you now act, if some chance should give you Amphipolis, you could not take it, so lacking are you in your preparations and zeal.

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MEASURES TO RESIST PHILIP.
(Oration of Demosthenes.)

Let any one now come forward and tell me by whose contrivance but ours Philip has grown strong. Well, sir, this looks bad, but things at home are better. What proof can be [788]adduced? The parapets that are whitewashed? The roads that are repaired? fountains and fooleries? Look at the men of whose statesmanship these are the fruits. They have risen from beggary to opulence, or from obscurity to honor; some have made their private houses more splendid than the public buildings, and in proportion as the state has declined, their fortunes have been exalted.

What has produced these results? How is it that all went prosperously then, and now goes wrong? Because anciently the people, having the courage to be soldiers, controlled the statesmen, and disposed of all emoluments; any of the rest was happy to receive from the people his share of honor, office, or advantage. Now, contrariwise, the statesmen dispose of emoluments; through them everything is done; you, the people, enervated, stripped of treasure and allies, are become as underlings and hangers-on, happy if these persons dole you out show-money or send you paltry beeves; and, the unmanliest part of all, you are grateful for receiving your own. They, cooping you in the city, lead you to your pleasures, and make you tame and submissive to their hands. It is impossible, I say, to have a high and noble spirit, while you are engaged in petty and mean employments; whatever be the pursuits of men, their characters must be similar. By Ceres, I should not wonder if I, for mentioning these things, suffered more from your resentment than the men who have brought them to pass. For even liberty of speech you allow not on all subjects; I marvel indeed you have allowed it here.

Would you but even now, renouncing these practices, perform military service and act worthily of yourselves; would you employ these domestic superfluities as a means to gain advantage abroad; perhaps, Athenians, perhaps you might gain some solid and important advantage, and be rid of these perquisites, which are like the diet ordered by physicians for the sick. As that [789]neither imparts strength, nor suffers the patient to die, so your allowances are not enough to be of substantial benefit, nor yet permit you to reject them and turn to something else. Thus do they increase the general apathy. What? I shall be asked, mean you stipendiary service? Yes, and forthwith the same arrangement for all, Athenians, that each, taking his dividend from the public, may be what the state requires. Is peace to be had? You are better at home, under no compulsion to act dishonorably from indigence. Is there such an emergency as the present? Better to be a soldier, as you ought, in your country's cause, maintained by those very allowances. Is any one of you beyond the military age? What he now irregularly takes without doing service, let him take by just regulation, superintending and transacting needful business. Thus, without derogating from or adding to our political system, only removing some irregularity, I bring it into order, establishing a uniform rule for receiving money, for serving in war, for sitting on juries, for doing what each, according to his age, can do, and what occasion requires. I never advise we should give to idlers the wages of the diligent, or sit at leisure, passive and helpless, to hear that such a one's mercenaries are victorious, as we now do. Not that I blame any one who does you a service; I only call upon you, Athenians, to perform upon your own account those duties for which you honor strangers, and not to surrender that post of dignity which, won through many glorious dangers, your ancestors have bequeathed.

I have said nearly all that I think necessary. I trust you will adopt that course which is best for the country and yourselves.

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[790]

FORMER ATHENIANS DESCRIBED.
(By Demosthenes.)

I ask you, Athenians, to see how it was in the time of your ancestors; for by domestic (not foreign) examples you may learn your lesson of duty. Themistocles who commanded in the sea-fight at Salamis, and Miltiades who led at Marathon, and many others, who performed services unlike the generals of the present day—assuredly they were not set up in brass nor overvalued by our forefathers, who honored them, but only as persons on a level with themselves. Your forefathers, O my countrymen, surrendered not their part to any of those glories. There is no man who will attribute the victory of Salamis to Themistocles, but to the Athenians; nor the battle of Marathon to Miltiades, but to the republic. But now people say that Timotheus took Corcyra, and Iphicrates cut off the Spartan division, and Chabrias won the naval victory at Naxos; for you seem to resign the merit of these actions, by the extravagance of the honors which you have bestowed on their account upon each of the commanders.

So wisely did the Athenians of that day confer political rewards; so improperly do you. But how the rewards of foreigners? To Menon the Pharsalian, who gave twelve talents in money for the war at Eion by Amphipolis, and assisted them with two hundred horsemen of his own retainers, the Athenians then voted not the freedom of their city, but only granted immunity from imposts. And in earlier times to Perdiccas, who reigned in Macedonia during the invasion of the Barbarian—when he had destroyed the Persians who retreated from Platæa after their defeat, and completed the disaster of the King—they voted not the freedom of their city, but only granted immunity from imposts; doubtless esteeming their country to be of high [791]value, honor, and dignity, surpassing all possible obligation. But now, ye men of Athens, ye adopt the vilest of mankind, menials and the sons of menials, to be your citizens, receiving a price as for any other salable commodity. And you have fallen into such a practice, not because your natures are inferior to your ancestors, but because they were in a condition to think highly of themselves, while from you, men of Athens, this power is taken away. It can never be, methinks, that your spirit is generous and noble, while you are engaged in petty and mean employments; no more than you can be abject and mean-spirited, while your actions are honorable and glorious. Whatever be the pursuits of men their sentiments must necessarily be similar.

Mark what a summary view may be taken of the deeds performed by your ancestors and by you. Possibly from such comparison you may rise superior to yourselves. They for a period of five and forty years took the lead of the Greeks by general consent, and carried up more than ten thousand talents into the citadel; and many glorious trophies they erected for victories by land and sea, wherein even yet we take a pride. And remember, they erected these, not merely that we may survey them with admiration, but, also, that we may emulate the virtues of the dedicators. Such was their conduct; but for ours—fallen as we have on a solitude manifest to you all—look if it bears any resemblance. Have not more than fifteen hundred talents been lavished ineffectually on the distressed people of Greece? Have not all private fortunes, the revenues of the state, the contributions from our allies, been squandered? Have not the allies, whom we gained in the war, been lost recently in the peace? But forsooth, in these respects only was it better anciently than now, in other respects worse. Very far from that! Let us examine what instances you please. The edifices which they left, the ornaments of the city in temples, harbors, and the like, were so magnificent and beautiful, that room is not [792]left for any succeeding generation to surpass them; yonder gateway, the Parthenon, docks, porticos, and others structures, which they adorned the city withal and bequeathed to us. The private houses of the men in power were so modest and in accordance with the name of the constitution, that if any one knows the style of house which Themistocles occupied, or Cimon, or Aristides, or Miltiades, and the illustrious of that day, he perceives it to be no grander than that of the neighbors. But now, ye men of Athens—as regards public measures—our government is content to furnish roads, fountains, whitewashing, and trumpery; not that I blame the authors of these works; far otherwise; I blame you, if you suppose that such measures are all you have to execute. As regards individual conduct—your men in office have (some of them) made their private houses, not only more ostentatious than the multitude, but more splendid than the public buildings; others are farming land which they have purchased of such an extent as once they never hoped for in a dream.

The cause of this difference is, that formerly the people were lords and masters of all; any individual citizen was glad to receive from them his share of honor, office, or profit. Now, on the contrary, these persons are the disposers of emoluments; everything is done by their agency; the people are treated as underlings and dependents, and you are happy to take what these men allow you for your portion.

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ORATION ON THE CROWN.
(By Demosthenes.)

Let me begin, men of Athens, by imploring, of all the Heavenly Powers, that the same kindly sentiments which I have, throughout my public life, cherished towards this country and [793]each one of you, may now by you be shown towards me in the present contest! In two respects my adversary plainly has the advantage of me. First, we have not the same interests at stake; it is by no means the same thing for me to forfeit your esteem, and for Æschines, an unprovoked volunteer, to fail in his impeachment. My other disadvantage is, the natural proneness of men to lend a pleased attention to invective and accusation, but to give little heed to him whose theme is his own vindication. To my adversary, therefore, falls the part which ministers to your gratification, while to me there is only left that which, I may almost say, is distasteful to all. And yet, if I do not speak of myself and my own conduct, I shall appear defenseless against his charges, and without proof that my honors were well earned. This, therefore, I must do; but it shall be with moderation. And bear in mind that the blame of my dwelling on personal topics must justly rest upon him who has instituted this personal impeachment.

At least, my judges, you will admit that this question concerns me as much as Ctesiphon, and justifies on my part an equal anxiety. To be stripped of any possession, and more especially by an enemy, is grievous to bear, but to be robbed of your confidence and esteem—of all possessions the most precious—is indeed intolerable. Such, then, being my stake in this cause, I conjure you all to give ear to my defense against these charges, with that impartiality which the laws enjoin—those laws first given by Solon, and which he fixed, not only by engraving them on brazen tables, but by the sanction of the oaths you take when sitting in judgment; because he perceived that, the accuser being armed with the advantage of speaking first, the accused can have no chance of resisting his charges, unless you, his judges, keeping the oath sworn before Heaven, shall receive with favor the defense which comes last, and, lending an equal ear to both parties, shall thus make up your minds upon the whole of the case.

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[794]

CICERO.

Cicero, taken all in all, for his eloquence, for his learning, for his true patriotism, for the profound and ennobling views he has left us in his critical, oratorical and philosophical writings, as well as for his purity in all the domestic relations of life, in the midst of almost universal profligacy, stands forth upon the page of history as one of the very brightest names the ancients have left us. He was probably distinguished most as an orator, in which character he is most generally known, though as a general scholar and statesman he was almost without a peer. He was born on the third of January, 106 B.C. His father was a member of the Equestrian order, and lived in easy circumstances near Arpinum, but afterwards removed to Rome for the purpose of educating his sons, Marcus and Quintus. The very best teachers were procured for them. Almost immediately after his schooling he was promoted, and rose from one station of honor and distinction to another.

It may be doubted whether any individual ever rose to power by more virtuous and truly honorable conduct, and the integrity of his public life was only equaled by the purity of his private morals. But as his history is taught to our school boys and his orations read in their original language, we will not lengthen our remarks. The following are his works. They are numerous and diversified, but may be arranged under five separate heads: 1. Philosophical Works. 2. Speeches. 3. Correspondence. 4. Poems. 5. Historical and Miscellaneous Works. The following are the most important:

[795]

First, his Philosophical Works, 1. De Inventione Rhetorica, "On the Rhetorical Art;" intended to exhibit, in a compendious form, all that are most valuable in the works of the [796]Grecian rhetoricians. 2. De Partitione Oratorio Dialogus, "A Dialogue on the several Divisions of Rhetoric," a sort of catechism of rhetoric. 3. De Oratore, "On the True Orator," a systematic work on the art of oratory. This is one of his most brilliant efforts, and so accurately finished in its minute parts, that it may be regarded as a masterpiece of skill in all that relates to the graces of style and composition. 4. Brutus: de claris Oratoribus. This is in the form of a dialogue, and contains a complete critical history of Roman eloquence. 5. Orator, "The Orator," addressed to Marcus Brutus, giving his views as to what constitutes a perfect orator. 6. De Republica, "On the Republic," in six books, designed to show the best form of government and the duty of the citizen; but a considerable portion of this is lost. 7. De Officiis; a treatise on moral obligations, viewed not so much with reference to a metaphysical investigation of the basis on which they rest, as to the practical business of the world, and the intercourse of social and political life. This is one of his most precious legacies. 8. De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum, "On the Ends of Good and Evil," a series of dialogues dedicated to M. Brutus, in which the opinions of the Grecian schools, especially of the Epicureans, the Stoics, and the Peripatetics, on the Supreme Good, the Summum Bonum, that is, the finis, "the end."

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INVECTIVE AGAINST CATILINE.
(By Cicero.)

How long, O Catiline, wilt thou abuse our patience? How long shalt thou baffle justice in thy mad career? To what extreme wilt thou carry thy audacity? Art thou nothing daunted by the nightly watch, posted to secure the Palatium? Nothing, [797]by the city guards! Nothing, by the rally of all good citizens? Nothing, by the assembling of the senate in this fortified place? Nothing, by the averted looks of all here present? Seest thou not that all thy plots are exposed?—that thy wretched conspiracy is laid bare to every man's knowledge, here in the senate?—that we are well aware of thy proceedings of last night; of the night before; the place, of meeting, the company convoked, the measures concerted? Alas, the times! Alas, the public morals! The senate understands all this. The Consul sees it. Yet the traitor lives! Lives? Ay, truly, and confronts us here in council; takes part in our deliberations; and, with his measuring eye, marks out each man of us for slaughter! And we, all this while, strenuous that we are, think we have amply discharged our duty to the state, if we but shun this madman's sword and fury!

Long since, O Catiline, ought the Consul to have ordered thee to execution, and brought upon thy own head the ruin thou hast been meditating against others! There was that virtue once in Rome, that a wicked citizen was held more execrable than the deadliest foe. We have a law still, Catiline, for thee. Think not that we are powerless because forbearing. We have a decree—though it rests among our archives like a sword in its scabbard—a decree by which thy life would be made to pay the forfeit of thy crimes. And, should I order thee to be instantly seized and put to death, I make just doubt whether all good men would not think it done rather too late, than any man too cruelly. But, for good reasons, I will yet defer the blow, long since deserved. Then will I doom thee, when no man is found so lost, so wicked, nay, so like thyself, but shall confess that it was justly dealt. While there is one man that dares defend thee, live! But thou shalt live so beset, so surrounded, so scrutinized, by the vigilant guards that I have placed around thee, that thou shalt not stir a foot against the Republic without my knowledge. There shall be eyes to detect thy slightest [798]movement, and ears to catch thy wariest whisper, of which thou shalt not dream. The darkness of night shall not cover thy treason—the walls of privacy shall not stifle its voice. Baffled on all sides, thy most secret counsels clear as noon-day, what canst thou now have in view? Proceed, plot, conspire, as thou wilt; there is nothing you can contrive, nothing you can propose, nothing you can attempt which I shall not know, hear, and promptly understand. Thou shalt soon be made aware that I am even more active in providing for the preservation of the state than thou in plotting its destruction!—First Oration.

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EXPULSION OF CATILINE FROM ROME.
(By Cicero.)

At length, Romans, we are rid of Catiline! We have driven him forth, drunk with fury, breathing mischief, threatening to revisit us with fire and sword. He is gone; he is fled; he has escaped; he has broken away. No longer, within the very walls of the city, shall he plot her ruin. We have forced him from secret plots into open rebellion. The bad citizen is now the avowed traitor. His flight is the confession of his treason! Would that his attendants had not been so few! Be speedy, ye companions of his dissolute pleasures; be speedy, and you may overtake him before night, on the Aurelian road. Let him not languish, deprived of your society. Haste to join the congenial crew that compose his army; his army, I say—for who doubts that the army under Manlius expect Catiline for their leader? And such an army! Outcasts from honor, and fugitives from debt; gamblers and felons; miscreants, whose dreams are of rapine, murder, and conflagration!

Against these gallant troops of your adversary, prepare, O Romans, your garrisons and armies; and first to that maimed [799]and battered gladiator oppose your consuls and generals; next, against that miserable, outcast horde, lead forth the strength and flower of all Italy! On the one side, chastity contends; on the other wantonness; here purity, there pollution; here integrity, there treachery; here piety, there profaneness; here constancy, there rage; here honesty, there baseness; here continence, there lust; in short, equity, temperance, fortitude, prudence, struggle with iniquity, luxury, cowardice, rashness; every virtue with every vice; and, lastly, the contest lies between well-grounded hope and absolute despair. In such a conflict, were even human aid to fail, would not the immortal gods empower such conspicuous virtue to triumph over such complicated vice?—Second Oration.

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THE TYRANT PRÆTOR DENOUNCED.
(By Cicero.)

An opinion has long prevailed, fathers, that, in public prosecutions, men of wealth, however clearly convicted, are always safe. This opinion, so injurious to your order, so detrimental to the state, is now in your power to refute. A man is on trial before you who is rich, and who hopes his riches will compass his acquittal, but whose life and actions are sufficient condemnation in the eyes of all candid men. I speak of Caius Verres, who, if he now receive not the sentence his crimes deserve, it shall not be through the lack of a criminal or of a prosecutor, but through the failure of the ministers of justice to do their duty. Passing over the shameful irregularities of his youth, what does the quæstorship of Verres exhibit but one continued scene of villainies? The public treasure squandered, a Consul stripped and betrayed, an army deserted and reduced to want, a province robbed, the civil and religious rights of a people [800]trampled on! But his praætorship in Sicily has crowned his career of wickedness, and completed the lasting monument of his infamy. His decisions have violated all law, all precedent, all right. His extortions from the industrious poor have been beyond computation. Our most faithful allies have been treated as enemies. Roman citizens have, like slaves, been put to death with tortures. Men the most worthy have been condemned and banished without a hearing, while the most atrocious criminals have, with money, purchased exemption from the punishment due to their guilt.

I ask now, Verres, what have you to advance against these charges? Art thou not the tyrant prætor, who, at no greater distance than Sicily, within sight of the Italian coast, dared to put to an infamous death, on the cross, that ill-fated and innocent citizen, Publius Gavius Cosanus? And what was his offense? He had declared his intention of appealing to the justice of his country against your brutal persecutions! For this, when about to embark for home, he was seized, brought before you, charged with being a spy, scourged and tortured. In vain did he exclaim: "I am a Roman citizen! I have served under Lucius Pretius, who is now at Panormus, and who will attest my innocence!" Deaf to all remonstrance, remorseless, thirsting for innocent blood, you ordered the savage punishment to be inflicted! While the sacred words, "I am a Roman citizen," were on his lips—words which, in the remotest regions, are a passport to protection—you ordered him to death, to a death upon the cross!

O liberty! O sound once delightful to every Roman ear! O sacred privilege of Roman citizenship! once sacred—now trampled on! Is it come to this? Shall an inferior magistrate—a governor, who holds his whole power of the Roman people—in a Roman province, within sight of Italy, bind, scourge, torture, and put to an infamous death, a Roman citizen? Shall [801]neither the cries of innocence expiring in agony, the tears of pitying spectators, the majesty of the Roman commonwealth, nor the fear of the justice of this country, restrain the merciless monster, who, in the confidence of his riches, strikes at the very root of liberty, and sets mankind at defiance? And shall this man escape? Fathers, it must not be! It must not be, unless you would undermine the very foundations of social safety, strangle justice, and call down anarchy, massacre and ruin on the commonwealth.—Oration against Verres.

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ADVANTAGES OF AGE.
(By Cicero.)

Indeed, old age is so far from being necessarily a state of languor and inactivity, that it generally continues to exert itself in that sort of occupation which was the favorite object of its pursuit in more vigorous years. I will add, that instances might be produced of men who, in this period of life, have successfully applied themselves even to the acquisition of some art of science to which they were before entirely strangers. Thus Solon in one of his poems, written when he was advanced in years, glories that "he learned something every day he lived." And old as I myself am, it is but lately that I acquired a knowledge of the Greek language; to which I applied with the more zeal and diligence, as I had long entertained an earnest desire of becoming acquainted with the writings and characters of those excellent men, to whose examples I have occasionally appealed in the course of our present conversation. Thus, Socrates, too, in his old age, learned to play upon the lyre, an art which the ancients did not deem unworthy of their application. If I have not followed the philosopher's example in this instance (which, indeed, [802]I very much regret), I have spared, however, no pains to make myself master of the Greek language and learning.

Inestimable, too, are the advantages of old age, if we contemplate it in another point of view; if we consider it as delivering us from the tyranny of lust and ambition; from the angry and contentious passions; from every inordinate and irrational desire; in a word, as teaching us to retire within ourselves, and look for happiness in our own bosoms. If to these moral benefits naturally resulting from length of days be added that sweet food of the mind which is gathered in the fields of science, I know not any season of life that is passed more agreeably than the learned leisure of a virtuous old age.

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IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.
(By Cicero.)

And now, among the different sentiments of the philosophers concerning the consequences of our final dissolution, may I not venture to declare my own? and the rather, as the nearer death advances towards me, the more clearly I seem to discern its real nature.

I am well convinced, then, that my dear departed friends, your two illustrious fathers, are so far from having ceased to live, that the state they now enjoy can alone with propriety be called life. The soul, during her confinement within this prison of the body, is doomed by fate to undergo a severe penance; for her native seat is in heaven, and it is with reluctance that she is forced down from those celestial mansions into these lower regions, where all is foreign and repugnant to her divine nature. But the gods, I am persuaded, have thus widely disseminated immortal spirits, and clothed them with human bodies, that there [803]might be a race of intelligent creatures, not only to have dominion over this, our earth, but to contemplate the host of heaven, and imitate in their moral conduct the same beautiful order and uniformity so conspicuous in those splendid orbs. This opinion I am induced to embrace, not only as agreeable to the best deductions of reason, but in just deference, also, to the authority of the noblest and most distinguished philosophers. And I am further confirmed in my belief of the soul's immortality by the discourse which Socrates—whom the oracle of Apollo pronounced to be the wisest of men—held upon this subject just before his death. In a word, when I consider the faculties with which the human mind is endued; its amazing celerity; its wonderful power in recollecting past events, and sagacity in discerning future; together with its numberless discoveries in the several arts and sciences, I feel a conscious conviction that this active, comprehensive principle can not possibly be of a mortal nature. And as this unceasing activity of the soul derives its energy from its own intrinsic and essential powers, without receiving it from any foreign or external impulse, it necessarily follows (as it is absurd to suppose the soul would desert itself) that this activity must continue forever. But farther; as the soul is evidently a simple, uncompounded substance, without any dissimilar parts or heterogeneous mixture, it can not, therefore, be divided; consequently, it can not perish. I might add, that the facility and expedition with which youth are taught to acquire numberless very difficult arts, is a strong presumption that the soul possessed a considerable portion of knowledge before it entered into the human form, and that what seems to be received from instruction is, in fact, no other than a reminiscence or recollection of its former ideas. This, at least, is the opinion of Plato.

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[804]

JULIUS CAESAR.

Julius Cæsar was born on the 12th of July, 100 B.C. As to his intellectual character, Cæsar was gifted by nature with the most varied talents, and was distinguished by an extraordinary genius, and by attainments in very diversified pursuits. He was, at one and the same time, a general, a statesman, a lawgiver, a jurist, an orator, a poet, an historian, a philologer, a mathematician, and an architect. He seemed equally fitted to excel in all, and has given proofs that he would surpass most men in any subject to which he should devote the energies of his great mind; and Middleton says he was the only man in Rome capable of rivaling Cicero as an orator. During his whole busy life he found time for literary pursuits, and always took pleasure in the society and conversation of men of learning.

Cæsar wrote many works on different subjects, but they are now all lost but his "Commentaries." These relate the history of the first seven years of the Gallic War in seven books, and the Civil War down to the commencement of the Alexandrine in three books. The purity of his Latin, and the clearness and beauty of his style have rendered his "Commentaries" a most popular and desirable text book for students of the Latin language.

A most important change was introduced by him in the reformation of the calendar, which was not only of vast importance to his country and to the civilized world, but its benefits have extended to the present day. What consummate folly, then, to say nothing of the wickedness, was displayed by the conspirators who put him to death; for instead of the wise, the noble, the magnanimous, they exalted to supreme power one of the basest men in all Rome—Augustus, who, as one of the [805]second Triumvirate, consented to the murder of his intimate and noble friend, Cicero.

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THE GERMANS.
(By Julius Cæsar.)

The Germans differ much from these usages, for they have neither Druids to preside over sacred offices, nor do they pay great regard to sacrifices. They rank in the number of the gods those alone whom they behold, and by whose instrumentality they are obviously benefited, namely, the sun, fire, and the moon; they have not heard of the other deities even by report. [806]Their whole life is occupied in hunting and in the pursuits of the military art; from childhood they devote themselves to fatigue and hardships. Those who have remained chaste for the longest time receive the greatest commendation among their people; they think that by this the growth is promoted, by this the physical powers are increased and the sinews are strengthened.

They do not pay much attention to agriculture, and a large portion of their food consists in milk, cheese, and flesh; nor has any one a fixed quantity of land or his own individual limits; but the magistrates and the leading men each year apportion to the tribes and families, who have united together, as much land as, and in the place which, they think proper, and the year after compel them to remove elsewhere. For this enactment they advance many reasons—lest seduced by long-continued custom, they may exchange their ardor in the waging of war for agriculture; lest they may be anxious to acquire extensive estates, and the more powerful drive the weaker from their possessions; lest they construct their houses with too great a desire to avoid cold and heat; lest the desire of wealth spring up, from which cause divisions and discords arise; and that they may keep the common people in a contented state of mind, when each sees his own means placed on an equality with those of the most powerful.

It is the greatest glory to the several states to have as wide deserts as possible around them, their frontiers having been laid waste. They consider this the real evidence of their prowess, that their neighbors shall be driven out of their lands and abandon them, and that no one dare settle near them; at the same time they think that they shall be on that account the more secure, because they have removed the apprehension of a sudden incursion. When a state either repels war waged against it, or wages it against another, magistrates are chosen to preside over that war with such authority that they have power of life and [807]death. In peace there is no common magistrate, but the chiefs of provinces and cantons administer justice and determine controversies among their own people. Robberies which are committed beyond the boundaries of each state bear no infamy, and they avow that these are committed for the purpose of disciplining their youth and of preventing sloth. And when any of their chiefs has said in an assembly "that he will be their leader, let those who are willing to follow give in their names," they who approve of both the enterprise and the man arise and promise their assistance and are applauded by the people; such of them as have not followed him are accounted in the number of deserters and traitors, and confidence in all matters is afterwards refused them. To injure guests they regard as impious; they defend from wrong those who have come to them for any purpose whatever, and esteem them inviolable; to them the houses of all are open and maintenance is freely supplied.

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BATTLE OF PHARSALIA.
(By Julius Cæsar.)

There was so much space left between the two lines as sufficed for the onset of the hostile armies; but Pompey had ordered his soldiers to await Cæsar's attack, and not to advance from their position, or suffer their line to be put into disorder. And he is said to have done this by the advice of Caius Triarius, that the impetuosity of the charge of Cæsar's soldiers might be checked, and their line broken, and that Pompey's troops, remaining in their ranks, might attack them while in disorder; and he thought that the javelins would fall with less force if the soldiers were kept in their ground, than if they met them in their course; at the same time he trusted that Cæsar's soldiers, after [808]running over double the usual ground, would become weary and exhausted by the fatigue. But to me Pompey seems to have acted without sufficient reason; for there is a certain impetuosity of spirit and an alacrity implanted by nature in the hearts of all men, which is inflamed by a desire to meet the foe. This a general should endeavor not to repress, but to increase; nor was it a vain institution of our ancestors that the trumpets should sound on all sides, and a general shout be raised; by which they imagined that the enemy were struck with terror, and their own army inspired with courage.

But our men, when the signal was given, rushed forward with their javelins ready to be launched, but perceiving that Pompey's men did not run to meet their charge, having acquired experience by custom, and being practiced in former battles, they of their own accord repressed their speed, and halted almost midway, that they might not come up with the enemy when their strength was exhausted, and after a short respite they again renewed their course, and threw their javelins, and instantly drew their swords, as Cæsar had ordered them. Nor did Pompey's men fail in this crisis, for they received our javelins, stood our charge, and maintained their ranks; and having launched their javelins, had recourse to their swords. At the same time Pompey's horse, according to their orders, rushed out at once from his left wing, and his whole host of archers poured after them. Our cavalry did not withstand their charge, but gave ground a little, upon which Pompey's horse pressed them more vigorously, and began to file off in troops, and flank our army. When Cæsar perceived this, he gave the signal to his fourth line, which he had formed of the six cohorts. They instantly rushed forward and charged Pompey's horse with such fury that not a man of them stood; but all wheeling about, not only quitted their post, but galloped forward to seek a refuge in the highest mountains. By their retreat the archers and slingers, being left [809]destitute and defenseless, were all cut to pieces. The cohorts, pursuing their success, wheeled about upon Pompey's left wing, whilst his infantry still continued to make battle, and attacked them in the rear.

At the same time Cæsar ordered his third line to advance, which till then had not been engaged, but had kept their post. Thus, new and fresh troops having come to the assistance of the fatigued, and others having made an attack on their rear, Pompey's men were not able to maintain their ground, but all fled, nor was Cæsar deceived in his opinion that the victory, as he had declared in his speech to his soldiers, must have its beginning from those six cohorts, which he had placed as a fourth line to oppose the horse. For by them the cavalry were routed; by them the archers and slingers were cut to pieces; by them the left wing of Pompey's army was surrounded, and obliged to be the first to flee. But when Pompey saw his cavalry routed, and that part of his army on which he reposed his greatest hopes thrown into confusion, despairing of the rest, he quitted the field, and retreated straightway on horseback to his camp, and calling to the centurions, whom he had placed to guard the prætorian gate, with a loud voice, that the soldiers might hear: "Secure the camp," says he; "defend it with diligence, if any danger should threaten it; I will visit the other gates, and encourage the guards of the camp." Having thus said, he retired into his tent in utter despair, yet anxiously waiting the issue.

Cæsar having forced the Pompeians to flee into their entrenchment, and thinking that he ought not to allow them any respite to recover from their fright, exhorted his soldiers to take advantage of fortune's kindness, and to attack the camp. Though they were fatigued by the intense heat, for the battle had continued till mid-day, yet, being prepared to undergo any labor, they cheerfully obeyed his command. The camp was bravely defended by the cohorts which had been left to guard it, [810]but with much more spirit by the Thracians and foreign auxiliaries. For the soldiers who had fled for refuge to it from the field of battle, affrighted and exhausted by fatigue, having thrown away their arms and military standards, had their thoughts more engaged on their further escape than on the defense of the camp. Nor could the troops who were posted on the battlements long withstand the immense number of our darts, but fainting under their wounds, quitted the place, and under the conduct of their centurions and tribunes, fled, without stopping, to the high mountains which joined the camp.

In Pompey's camp you might see arbors in which tables were laid; a large quantity of plate set out; the floors of the tents covered with fresh sods; the tents of Lucius Lentulus and others shaded with ivy; and many other things which were proofs of excessive luxury, and a confidence of victory; so that it might readily be inferred, that they had no apprehensions of the issue of the day, as they indulged themselves in unnecessary pleasures, and yet upbraided with luxury Cæsar's army, distressed and suffering troops, who had always been in want of common necessaries. Pompey, as soon as our men had forced the trenches, mounting his horse, and stripping off his general's habit, went hastily out of the back gate of the camp, and galloped with all speed to Larissa. Nor did he stop there, but with the same dispatch, collecting a few of his flying troops, and halting neither day nor night, he arrived at the sea-side, attended by only thirty horses, and went on board a victualing barque, often complaining, as we have been told, that he had been so deceived in his expectation, that he was almost persuaded that he had been betrayed by those from whom he had expected victory, as they began the flight.

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[811]

VIRGIL.

Virgil was born October 15, 70 B.C., and died 19 B.C. His father was an opulent farmer, and gave his son a liberal Greek and Latin education. His principal works were the Georgica and the Æneid. The Georgica (Georgics), or "Agricultural Poems," is a didactic poem in four books, dedicated to Mæcenas. In the first book he treats of the cultivation of the soil; in the second, of fruit trees; in the third, of horses and other cattle, and in the fourth, of bees. It gives us the most finished specimen of the Latin hexameter which we have. It is acknowledged by scholars to stand at the head of all Virgil's works, and is certainly the most elaborate and extraordinary instance of power in embellishing a most barren subject which human genius has ever afforded. The commonest precepts of farming are delivered with an elegance which could scarcely be attained by a poet who should endeavor to clothe in verse the sublimest maxims of philosophy.

At what time Virgil projected the Æneid is uncertain, but from a very early age he appears to have had a strong desire of composing an epic poem which would be an enduring monument of his fame. And he has succeeded, for this poem is ranked as one of the great epics of the world. It is divided into twelve books, and originates from an old Roman tradition that Æneas and his company of Trojans settled in Italy, and founded the Roman nation.

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PRAISE OF RURAL LIFE.
(By Virgil.)

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EMPLOYMENTS OF THE BEE.
(By Virgil.)

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PUNISHMENTS IN HELL.
(By Virgil.)

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HORACE.

Horace was born 65 B.C. and died 8 B.C. His father gave him a good education. About the age of seventeen he lost his father, and afterwards his property was confiscated. He had to write for bread—Paupertas impulit audax ut versus facerem—and in so doing gained much reputation, and sufficient means to purchase the place of scribe in the Quæstor's office. [817]He now made his acquaintance with Virgil and Varius, and by them was introduced to that munificent patron of scholars, Mæcenas, who gave to our poet a place next to his heart, while he, in return, is never weary of acknowledging how much he owes to his illustrious friend.

The following happy remarks on the Roman Satirists are by Professor Sanborn, formerly Professor of Latin in Dartmouth College, and now in the University of St. Louis: "The principal Roman Satirists were Horace, Juvenal and Persius. Horace is merry; Persius serious; Juvenal indignant. Thus, wit, philosophy and lofty scorn mark their respective pages. The satire of Horace was playful and good natured. His arrows were always dipped in oil. He was a fine specimen of an accomplished gentleman. His sentiments were evidently modified by his associates. He was an Epicurean and a stoic by turns. He commended and ridiculed both sects. He practiced economy and praised liberality. He lived temperate, and sang the praises of festivity. He was the favorite of the court and paid for its patronage in compliments and panegyrics, unsurpassed in delicacy of sentiment and beauty of expression. Horace is every man's companion. He has a word of advice and admonition for all. His criticisms constitute most approved canons of the rhetorician; his sage reflections adorn the page of the moralist; his humor and wit give point and force to the satirist, and his graver maxims are not despised by the Christian philosopher. Juvenal is fierce and denunciatory. His characteristics are energy, force, and indignation; his weapons are irony, wit and sarcasm; he is a decided character, and you must yield and submit, or resist. His denunciations of vice are startling. He hated the Greeks, the aristocracy and woman with intense hatred. No author has written with such terrible bitterness of the sex. Unlike other satirists, he never relents. His arrow is ever on the string, and whatever wears the guise of woman is his game. [818]The most celebrated of the modern imitators of Horace and Juvenal are Swift and Pope."

The Odes, Satires and Epistles are his chief productions.

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TO LICINIUS.
(By Horace.)

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TO PYRRHA.
(By Horace.)

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SENECA.

Seneca was born 7 B.C. and died 65 A.D. His writings were of a philosophical nature. His character was much doubted. His great misfortune was to have known Nero, who ordered him to be put to death, to which he merely replied that he who had murdered his brother and his mother could not be expected to spare his teacher. He had been absent from Rome some time, and when he returned to visit his mother in the country, he was spied, and Nero sent a squad of armed men to the house to ask him to choose the manner of his death. His fame rests on his numerous writings, which, with all their faults, have great merits. His principal works, which are of a philosophical character, are essays "On Anger," "On Consolation," "On Providence," "On Tranquillity of Mind," "On the Firmness of the Wise Man," "On Clemency," "On the Brevity of Human Life," "On a Happy Life," etc., together with "Epistles of Lucilius," one hundred and twenty-four in number. Besides these, there are extant ten tragedies attributed to him, entitled, Hercules Furens, Thyestes, Thebais or Phœnissæ, Hippolytus or Phædra, Œdipus, Troades or Hecuba, Medea, Agamemnon, Hercules Œtæus and Octavia. These were never intended for the stage, but were designed for reading or recitation, after the Roman fashion. They contain many striking passages, and have some merits as poems.

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[821]

HAPPINESS FOUNDED ON WISDOM.
(By Seneca.)

Taking it for granted that human happiness is founded upon wisdom and virtue, we shall treat of these two points in order as they lie, and first of wisdom; not in the latitude of its various operations, but only as it has a regard to good life and the happiness of mankind.

Wisdom is a right understanding; a faculty of discerning good from evil; what is to be chosen, and what rejected; a judgment grounded upon the value of things, and not the common opinion of them; an equality of force and strength of resolution. It sets a watch over our words and deeds, it takes us up with the contemplation of the works of nature, and makes us invincible by either good or evil fortune. It is large and spacious, and requires a great deal of room to work in; it ransacks heaven and earth; it has for its object things past and to come, transitory and eternal. It examines all the circumstances of time; "what it is, when it began, and how long it will continue;" and so for the mind; "whence it came; what it is; when it begins; how long it lasts; whether or no it passes from one form to another, or serves only one, and wanders when it leaves us; where it abides in the state of separation, and what the action of it; what use it makes of its liberty; whether or no it retains the memory of things past, and comes to the knowledge of itself." It is the habit of a perfect mind and the perfection of humanity, raised as high as nature can carry it. It differs from philosophy, as avarice and money; the one desires, and the other is desired; the one is the effect and the reward of the other. To be wise is the use of wisdom, as seeing is the use of eyes and well-speaking the use of eloquence. He that is perfectly wise is perfectly happy; nay, the very beginning of wisdom makes life easy to us. Neither [822]is it enough to know this, unless we print it in our minds by daily meditation, and so bring a good will to a good habit. And we must practice what we preach, for philosophy is not a subject for popular ostentation, nor does it rest in words, but in things. It is not an entertainment taken up for delight, or to give a taste to leisure, but it fashions the mind, governs our actions, tells us what we are to do, and what not. It sits at the helm, and guides us through all hazards; nay, we can not be safe without it, for every hour gives us occasion to make use of it. It informs us in all the duties of life, piety to our parents, faith to our friends, charity to the miserable, judgment in counsel; it gives us peace, by fearing nothing, and riches, by coveting nothing.

There is no condition of life that excludes a wise man from discharging his duty. If his fortune be good, he tempers it; if bad, he masters it; if he has an estate, he will exercise his virtue in plenty, if none, in poverty; if he can not do it in his country, he will do it in banishment; if he has no command, he will do the office of a common soldier. Some people have the skill of reclaiming the fiercest of beasts: they will make a lion embrace his keeper, a tiger kiss him, and an elephant kneel to him. This is the case of a wise man in the extremest difficulties; let them be never so terrible in themselves, when they come to him once, they are perfectly tame. They that ascribe the invention of tillage, architecture, navigation, etc., to wise men, may perchance be in the right, that they were invented by wise men; but they were not invented by wise men, as wise men; for wisdom does not teach our fingers, but our minds: fiddling and dancing, arms and fortifications, were the works of luxury and discord; but wisdom instructs us in the way of nature, and in the arts of unity and concord; not in the instruments, but in the government of life; nor to make us live only, but to live happily. She teaches us what things are good, what evil, and what only appear so; and [823]to distinguish betwixt true greatness and tumor. She clears our minds of dross and vanity; she raises up our thoughts to heaven, and carries them down to hell; she discourses on the nature of the soul, the powers and faculties of it; the first principles of things; the order of providence: she exalts us from things corporeal to things incorporeal; and retrieves the truth of all: she searches nature, gives laws to life; and tells us, "that it is not enough to know God unless we obey Him." She looks upon all accidents as acts of providence; sets a true value upon things; delivers us from false opinions, and condemns all pleasures that are attended with repentance. She allows nothing to be good that will not be so forever; no man to be happy but he that needs no other happiness than what he has within himself; no man to be great or powerful, that is not master of himself;—and this is the felicity of human life; a felicity that can neither be corrupted nor extinguished.

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AGAINST RASH JUDGMENT.
(By Seneca.)

It is good for every man to fortify himself on his weak side; and if he loves his peace, he must not be inquisitive and harken to tale-bearers; for the man that is over-curious to hear and see everything, multiplies troubles to himself; for a man does not feel what he does not know. He that is listening after private discourse, and what people say of him, shall never be at peace. How many things that are innocent in themselves, are made injurious yet by misconstruction? Wherefore some things we are to pause upon, others to laugh at, and others again to pardon. Or if we can not avoid the sense of indignities, let us, however, shun the open profession of it; which may be easily done, as [824]appears by many examples of those who have suppressed their anger, under the awe of a greater fear. It is a good caution not to believe anything until you are very certain of it; for many probable things prove false, and a short time will make evidence of the undoubted truth. We are prone to believe many things which we are unwilling to hear, and so we conclude, and take up a prejudice before we can judge. Never condemn a friend unheard; or without letting him know his accuser, or his crime. It is a common thing to say, "Do not tell that you had it from me; for if you do, I will deny it; and never tell you anything again." By which means friends are set together by the ears, and the informer slips his neck out of the collar. Admit no stories, upon these terms; for it is an unjust thing to believe in private, and be angry openly. He that delivers himself up to guess and conjecture, runs a great hazard; for there can be no suspicion without some probable grounds; so that without much candor and simplicity, and making the best of everything, there is no living in society with mankind. Some things that offend us we have by report; others we see or hear. In the first case, let us not be too credulous; some people frame stories that may deceive us; others only tell us what they hear, and are deceived themselves; some make it their sport to do ill offices; others do them only to receive thanks; there are some that would part the dearest friends in the world; others love to do mischief, and stand off aloof to see what comes of it. If it be a small matter, I would have witnesses; but if it be a greater, I would have it upon oath, and allow time to the accused, and counsel, too, and hear it over and over again.

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[825]

THE EQUALITY OF MAN.
(By Seneca.)

It is not well done to be still murmuring against nature and fortune, as if it were their unkindness that makes you inconsiderable, when it is only by your own weakness that you make yourself so; for it is virtue, not pedigree, that renders a man either valuable or happy. Philosophy does not either reject or choose any man for his quality. Socrates was no patrician, Cleanthes but an under-gardener; neither did Plato dignify philosophy by his birth, but by his goodness. All these worthy men are our progenitors, if we will but do ourselves the honor to become their disciples. The original of all mankind was the same, and it is only a clear conscience that makes any man noble, for that derives even from heaven itself. It is the saying of a great man, that if we could trace our descents we should find all slaves to come from princes and all princes from slaves. But fortune has turned all things topsy-turvy, in a long story of revolutions. It is most certain that our beginning had nothing before it, and our ancestors were some of them splendid, others sordid, as it happened. We have lost the memorials of our extraction; and, in truth, it matters not whence we come, but whither we go. Nor is it any more to our honor the glory of our predecessors, than it is to their shame the wickedness of their posterity. We are all of us composed of the same elements; why should we, then, value ourselves upon our nobility of blood, as if we were not all of us equal, if we could but recover our evidence? But when we can carry it no farther, the herald provides us some hero to supply the place of an illustrious original, and there is the rise of arms and families. For a man to spend his life in pursuit of a title, that serves only when he dies, to furnish out an epitaph, is below a wise man's business.

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[826]

ALL THINGS ORDERED BY GOD.
(By Seneca.)

Every man knows without telling, that this wonderful fabric of the universe is not without a Governor, and that a constant order can not be the work of chance, for the parts would then fall foul one upon another. The motions of the stars, and their influences, are acted by the command of an eternal decree. It is by the dictate of an Almighty Power, that the heavy body of the earth hangs in balance. Whence come the revolutions of the seasons and the flux of the rivers? the wonderful virtue of the smallest seeds? as an oak to arise from an acorn. To say nothing of those things that seem to be most irregular and uncertain; as clouds, rain, thunder, the eruptions of fire out of mountains, earthquakes, and those tumultuary motions in the lower region of the air, which have their ordinate causes, and so have those things, too, which appear to us more admirable because less frequent; as scalding fountains and new islands started out of the sea; or what shall we say of the ebbing and flowing out of the ocean, the constant times and measures of the tides, according to the changes of the moon that influences most bodies; but this needs not, for it is not that we doubt of providence, but complain of it. And it were a good office to reconcile mankind to the gods, who are undoubtedly best to the best. It is against nature that good should hurt good. A good man is not only the friend of God, but the very image, the disciple, and the imitator of Him, and a true child of his heavenly Father. He is true to himself, and acts with constancy and resolution.

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[827]

PLUTARCH.

Plutarch was born A.D. 90, in Chæronea, a city of Bœotia. To him we are indebted for so many of the lives of the philosophers, poets, orators and generals of antiquity. No book has been more generally sought after or read with greater avidity than "Plutarch's Lives." However ancient, either Greek or Latin, none has received such a universal popularity. But the character of Plutarch himself, not less than his method of writing biography, explains his universal popularity, and gives its special charm and value to his book. He was a man of large and generous nature, of strong feeling, of refined tastes, of quick perceptions. His mind had been cultivated in the acquisition of the best learning of his times, and was disciplined by the study of books as well as of men. He deserves the title of philosopher; but his philosophy was of a practical rather than a speculative character—though he was versed in the wisest doctrines of the great masters of ancient thought, and in some of his moral works shows himself their not unworthy follower. Above all, he was a man of cheerful and genial temper. A lover of justice and of liberty, his sympathies are always on the side of what is right, noble and honorable.

He was educated at Delphi and improved himself by the advantages of foreign travel. On his return he was employed by his country on an embassy to Rome, where he opened a school for youth, employing all his leisure time at that capital of the world and chief seat of erudition in acquiring those vast stores of learning which he afterwards read for the delight and instruction of mankind. "It must be borne in mind," he says, "that my design is not to write histories, but lives. And the most glorious exploits do not always furnish us with the clearest [828]discoveries of virtue or vice in men; sometimes a matter of less moment, an expression or a jest, informs us better of their characters and inclinations than the most famous sieges, the greatest armaments, or the bloodiest battles whatsoever. Therefore, as portrait-painters are more exact in the lines and features of the face, in which the character is seen, than in the other parts of the body, so I must be allowed to give my more particular attention to the marks and indications of the souls of men; and, while I endeavor by these to portray their lives, may be free to leave more weighty matters and great battles to be treated by others."

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THE HORRIBLE PROSCRIPTIONS OF SYLLA.
(By Plutarch.)

Sylla being thus wholly bent upon slaughter, and filling the city with executions without number or limit, many wholly uninterested persons falling a sacrifice to private enmity, through his permission and indulgence to his friends, Caius Metellus, one of the younger men, made bold in the senate to ask him what end there was of these evils, and at what point he might be expected to stop? "We do not ask you," said he, "to pardon any whom you have resolved to destroy, but to free from doubt those whom you are pleased to save." Sylla answering, that he knew not as yet whom to spare, "Why, then," said he, "tell us whom you will punish." This Sylla said he would do. These last words, some authors say, were spoken not by Metellus, but by Afidus, one of Sylla's fawning companions. Immediately upon this, without communicating with any of the magistrates, Sylla proscribed eighty persons, and notwithstanding the general indignation, after one day's respite he posted two hundred and [829]twenty more, and on the third, again, as many. In an address to the people on this occasion, he told them he had put up as many names as he could think of; those that had escaped his memory he would publish at a future time. He issued an edict likewise, making death the punishment of humanity, proscribing any who should dare to receive and cherish a proscribed person, without exception to brother, son, or parents. And to him who should slay any one proscribed person, he ordained two talents reward, even were it a slave who had killed his master, or a son his father. And what was thought most unjust of all, he caused the attainder to pass upon their sons, and son's sons, and made open sale of all their property. Nor did the proscription prevail only at Rome, but throughout all the cities of Italy the effusion of blood was such, that neither sanctuary of the gods, nor hearth of hospitality, nor ancestral home escaped. Men were butchered in the embraces of their wives, children in the arms of their mothers. Those who perished through public animosity, or private enmity, were nothing in comparison of the numbers of those who suffered for their riches. Even the murderers began to say, that "his fine house killed this man, a garden that, a third, his hot baths." Quintus Aurelius, a quiet, peaceable man, and one who thought all his part in the common calamity consisted in condoling with the misfortunes of others, coming into the forum to read the list, and finding himself among the proscribed, cried out, "Woe is me, my Alban farm has informed against me." He had not gone far, before he was dispatched by a ruffian, sent on that errand.

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[830]

DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO COMPARED.
(By Plutarch.)

Omitting an exact comparison of the respective faculties in speaking of Demosthenes and Cicero, yet this much seems fit to be said; that Demosthenes, to make himself a master in rhetoric, applied all the faculties he had, natural or acquired, wholly that way; that he far surpassed in force and strength of eloquence all his cotemporaries in political and judicial speaking, in grandeur and majesty all the panegyrical orators, and in accuracy and science all the logicians and rhetoricans of his day; that Cicero was highly educated, and by his diligent study became a most accomplished general scholar in all these branches, having left behind him numerous philosophical treatises of his own on Academic principles; as, indeed, even in his written speeches, both political and judicial, we see him continually trying to show his learning by the way. And one may discover the different temper of each of them in their speeches. For Demosthenes' oratory was without all embellishment and jesting, wholly composed for real effect and seriousness; not smelling of the lamp, as Pytheas scoffingly said, but of the temperance, thoughtfulness, austerity, and grave earnestness of his temper. Whereas Cicero's love for mockery often ran him into scurrility; and in his love of laughing away serious arguments in judicial cases by jests and facetious remarks, with a view to the advantage of his clients, he paid too little regard to what was decent. Indeed, Cicero was by natural temper very much disposed to mirth and pleasantry, and always appeared with a smiling and serene countenance. But Demosthenes had constant care and thoughtfulness in his look, and a serious anxiety, which he seldom, if ever, set aside, and, therefore, was accounted by his enemies, as he himself confessed, morose and ill-mannered.

[831]Also, it is very evident, out of their several writings, that Demosthenes never touched upon his own praises but decently and without offense when there was need of it, and for some weightier end; but, upon other occasions, modestly and sparingly. But Cicero's immeasurable boasting of himself in his orations argues him guilty of an uncontrollable appetite for distinction, his cry being evermore that arms should give place to the gown, and the soldier's laurel to the tongue. And at last we find him extolling not only his deeds and actions, but his orations, also, as well those that were only spoken, as those that were published. * *

The power of persuading and governing the people did, indeed, equally belong to both, so that those who had armies and camps at command stood in need of their assistance. But what are thought and commonly said most to demonstrate and try the tempers of men, namely, authority and place, by moving every passion, and discovering every frailty, these are things which Demosthenes never received; nor was he ever in a position to give such proof of himself, having never obtained any eminent office, nor led any of those armies into the field against Philip which he raised by his eloquence. Cicero, on the other hand, was sent quæstor into Sicily, and proconsul into Cilicia and Cappadocia, at a time when avarice was at the height, and the commanders and governors who were employed abroad, as though they thought it a mean thing to steal, set themselves to seize by open force; so that it seemed no heinous matter to take bribes, but he that did it most moderately was in good esteem. And yet he, at this time, gave [832]the most abundant proofs alike of his contempt of riches and of his humanity and good nature. And at Rome, when he was created consul in name, but indeed received sovereign and dictatorial authority against Catiline and his conspirators, he attested the truth of Plato's prediction, that then the miseries of states would be at an end, when by a happy fortune supreme power, wisdom and justice should be united in one. * *

Finally, Cicero's death excites our pity; for an old man to be miserably carried up and down by his servants, flying and hiding himself from that death which was, in the course of nature, so near at hand, and yet at last to be murdered. Demosthenes, though he seemed at first a little to supplicate, yet, by his preparing and keeping the poison by him, demands our admiration; and still more admirable was his using it. When the temple of the god no longer afforded him a sanctuary, he took refuge, as it were, at a mightier altar, freeing himself from arms and soldiers, and laughing to scorn the cruelty of Antipater.

[This seems to have been Plutarch's views of suicide, and, in fact, the spirit of the age in which he lived. From the standpoint of the philosophy of our day, suicide manifests nothing but a weakness and very generally insanity.]

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[833]

TOMBS AND CATACOMBS.ToC

TOMBS.

Respect for the dead, and a considerate regard for the due performance of the rites of burial, have been distinctive features in man in all ages and countries. Among the Greeks and Romans great importance was attached to the burial of the dead, as, if a corpse remained unburied, it was believed that the spirit of the departed wandered for a hundred years on the hither side of the Styx. Hence it became a religious duty to scatter earth over any unburied body which any one might chance to meet. This was considered sufficient to appease the infernal gods. The earliest tomb was the tumulus or mound of earth, heaped over the dead. It is a form naturally suggested to man in the early stages of his development. There are two classes of primitive tombs, which are evidently of the highest antiquity. The hypergæan, or raised mounds, or tumuli, and hypogæan, which are subterranean or excavated. The tumulus may be considered as the most simple and the most ancient form of sepulture. Its adoption was universal among all primitive nations. Such was the memorial raised by the Greeks over the bodies of their heroes. These raised mounds are to be met with in all countries. The Etruscans improved upon this form by surrounding [834]the base with a podium, or supporting wall of masonry, as at the Cocumella at Vulci, and in the Regulini-Galassi tomb. The Lydians adopted a similar improvement in the tomb of Alyattes, near Sardis. The pyramid, which is but a further development in stone of this form of sepulture, is not peculiar to Egypt alone, it has been adopted in several other countries. Examples of subterranean tombs are to be found in Egypt, Etruria, Greece. Those of Egypt and Etruria afford instances of extraordinary labor bestowed in excavating and constructing these subterranean abodes of the dead. The great reverence paid by the Egyptians to the bodies of their ancestors, and their careful preservation of them by embalmment, necessitated a great number and vast extent of tombs. The Egyptians called their earthly dwellings inns, because men stay there but a brief while; the tombs of the departed they called everlasting mansions, because the dead dwelt in them forever.

[835]

The pyramids were tombs. These monuments were the last abode of the Kings of the early dynasties. They are to be met with in Lower Egypt alone. The Theban Kings and their subjects erected no pyramids, and none of their tombs are structural. In Upper Egypt numerous excavations from the living rock in the mountains of the Thebaid received their mortal remains. Nothing can exceed the magnificence and care with which these tombs of the Kings were excavated and decorated. It appears to have been the custom with their Kings, so soon as they ascended the throne, to begin preparing their final resting place. The excavation seems to have gone on uninterruptedly, year by year, the painting and adornment being finished as it progressed, till the hand of death ended the King's reign, and simultaneously the works of his tomb. The tomb thus became an index of the length of a King's reign as well as of his magnificence. Their entrance, carefully closed, was frequently indicated by a facade cut on the side of the hill. A number of passages, [836]sometimes intersected by deep wells and large halls, finally led, frequently by concealed entrances, to the large chamber where was the sarcophagus, generally of granite, basalt, or alabaster. The sides of the entire excavation, as well as the roof, were covered with paintings, colored sculptures, and hieroglyphic inscriptions in which the name of the deceased King was frequently repeated. We generally find represented in them the funeral ceremonies, the procession, the visit of the soul of the deceased to the principal divinities, its offerings to each of them, lastly, its presentation by the god who protected it to the supreme god of the Amenti, the under-world or Hades. The splendor of these works, and the richness and variety of their ornamentation, exceed all conception; the figures, though in great number, are sometimes of colossal size; frequently scenes of civil life are mingled with funeral representations; the labors of agriculture, domestic occupations, musicians, dances, and furniture of wonderful richness and elegance, are also figured on them; on the ceiling are generally astronomical or astrological subjects. Several tombs of the Kings of the eighteenth dynasty and subsequent dynasties have been found in the valley of Biban-el-Molouk on the western side of the plain of Thebes. One of the most splendid of these is that opened by Belzoni, and now known as that of Osirei Menepthah, of the nineteenth dynasty. A sloping passage leads to a chamber which has been called "The Hall of Beauty."

Forcing his way farther on, Belzoni found as a termination to a series of chambers a large vaulted hall which contained the sarcophagus which held the body of the monarch, now in Sir John Soane's Museum. The entire extent of this succession of chambers and passages is hollowed to a length of 320 feet into the heart of the rock, and they are profusely covered with the paintings and hieroglyphics usually found in those sepulchral chambers. The tombs of the other Kings, Remeses III. and [837]Remeses Miamun, exhibit similar series of passages and chambers, covered with paintings and sculptures, in endless variety, some representing the deepest mysteries of the Egyptian religion; but, as Mr. Fergusson says, like all the tombs, they depend for their magnificence more on the paintings that adorn the walls than on anything which can strictly be called architecture. One of the tombs at Biban-el Molouk is 862 feet in length without reckoning the lateral chambers; the total area of excavation is 23,809, occupying an acre and a quarter of space for one chamber.

Private individuals were buried according to their rank and fortune. Their tombs, also excavated from the living rock, consisted of one or of several chambers ornamented with paintings and sculptures; the last contained the sarcophagus and the mummy. According to Sir G. Wilkinson, the tombs were the property of the priests, and a sufficient number being always kept ready, the purchase was made at the shortest notice, nothing being requisite to complete even the sculptures or inscriptions but the insertion of the deceased's name and a few statements respecting his family and profession. The numerous subjects representing agricultural scenes, the trades of the people, in short, the various occupations of the Egyptians, varying only in their details and the mode of their execution, were figured in these tombs, and were intended as a short epitome of human life, which suited equally every future occupant. The tombs at Beni Hassan are even of an earlier date than those of Thebes. Among these the tomb of a monarch or provincial governor is of the age of Osirtasen I. The walls of this tomb are covered with a series of representations, setting forth the ordinary occupations and daily avocations of the deceased, thus illustrating the manners and customs of the Egyptians of that age. These representations are a sort of epitome of life, or the career of man, previous to his admission to the mansions of the dead. They were therefore intended to show that the deceased had carefully and duly [838]fulfilled and performed all the duties and avocations which his situation in life and the reverence due to the gods required. In the cemeteries of Gizeh and Sakkara are tombs of the time of Nephercheres, sixth King of the second dynasty, probably the most ancient in Egypt. Around the great pyramid are numerous tombs of different periods; among them are the tombs of the princes, and other members of the family or time of Khufu. One of the most interesting is that known as Campbell's tomb, of the supposed date of about 660 B.C. It contained a tomb built up in its center, covered by three stones as struts, over which was a semicircular arch of brick. Near it, also, are several tombs of private individuals, who were mostly priests of Memphis. Many of these have false entrances, and several have pits with their mouths at the top of the tomb. The walls are covered with the usual paintings representing the ordinary occupations of the deceased.

Mummies.—The origin of the process of embalming has been variously accounted for. The real origin appears to be this: it was a part of the religious belief of the Egyptians that, as a reward of a well-spent and virtuous life, their bodies after death should exist and remain undecayed forever in their tombs, for we find in the "Book of the Dead" the following inscription placed over the spirits who have found favor in the eyes of the Great God: "The bodies which they have forsaken shall sleep forever in their sepulchres, while they rejoice in the presence of God most high." This inscription evidently shows a belief in a separate eternity for soul and body; of an eternal existence of the body in the tomb, and of the soul in the presence of God. The soul was supposed to exist as long as the body existed. Hence the necessity of embalming the body as a means to insure its eternal existence. Some have considered that the want of ground for cemeteries, and also the excavations made in the mountains for the extraction of materials employed in the immense buildings [839]of Egypt, compelled them to have recourse to the expedient of mummification. Others consider the custom arose rather from a sanitary regulation for the benefit of the living. According to Mr. Gliddon, mummification preceded, in all probability, the building of the pyramids and tombs, because vestiges of mummies have been found in the oldest of these, and, in fact, the first mummies were buried in the sand before the Egyptians possessed the necessary tools for excavating sepulchres in the rock. The earliest mode of mummification was extremely simple; the bodies were prepared with natron, or dried in ovens, and wrapped in woolen cloth. At a later period every provincial temple was provided with an establishment for the purpose of mummification. The bodies were delivered to the priests to be embalmed, and after seventy days restored to their friends, to be carried to the place of deposit. The mode of embalming depended on the rank and position of the deceased. There were three modes of embalming; the first is said to have cost a talent of silver (about $1,250); the second, 22 minæ ($300); the third was extremely cheap. The process is thus described by Herodotus;—"In Egypt certain persons are appointed by law to exercise this art as their peculiar business, and when a dead body is brought them they produce patterns of mummies in wood, imitated in painting. In preparing the body according to the most expensive mode, they commence by extracting the brain from the nostrils by a curved hook, partly cleansing the head by these means, and partly by pouring in certain drugs; then making an incision in the side with a sharp Ethiopian stone (black flint), they draw out the intestines through the aperture. Having cleansed and washed them with palm wine, they cover them with pounded aromatics, and afterwards filling the cavity with powder of pure myrrh, cassia, and other fragrant substances, frankincense excepted, they sew it up again. This being done, they salt the body, keeping it in natron during seventy days, to which period they are strictly [840]confined. When the seventy days are over, they wash the body, and wrap it up entirely in bands of fine linen smeared on the inner side with gum. The relatives then take away the body, and have a wooden case made in the form of a man, in which they deposit it; and when fastened up they keep it in a room in their house, placing it upright against the wall. (This style of mummy was supposed to represent the deceased in the form of Osiris.) This is the most costly mode of embalming.

"For those who choose the middle kind, on account of the expense, they prepare the body as follows:—They fill syringes with oil of cedar, and inject this into the abdomen without making any incision or removing the bowels; and, taking care that the liquid shall not escape, they keep it in salt during the specified number of days. The cedar-oil is then taken out, and such is its strength that it brings with it the bowels and all the inside in a state of dissolution. The natron also dissolves the flesh, so that nothing remains but the skin and bones. This process being over, they restore the body without any further operation.

"The third kind of embalming is only adapted for the poor. In this they merely cleanse the body by an injection of syrmæa, and salt it during seventy days, after which it is returned to the friends who brought it."

Sir G. Wilkinson gives some further information with regard to the more expensive mode of embalming. The body, having been prepared with the proper spices and drugs, was enveloped in linen bandages sometimes 1,000 yards in length. It was then enclosed in a cartonage fitting close to the mummied body, which was richly painted and covered in front with a network of beads and bugles arranged in a tasteful form, the face being laid over with a thick gold leaf, and the eyes made of enamel. The three or four cases which successively covered the cartonage were ornamented in like manner with painting and gilding, and [841]the whole was enclosed in a sarcophagus of wood or stone, profusely charged with painting or sculpture. These cases, as well as the cartonage, varied in style and richness, according to the expense incurred by the friends of the deceased. The bodies thus embalmed were generally of priests of various grades. Sometimes the skin itself was covered with gold leaf; sometimes the whole body, the face, or eyelids; sometimes the nails alone. In many instances the body or the cartonage was beautified in an expensive manner, and the outer cases were little ornamented; but some preferred the external show of rich cases and sarcophagi. Some mummies have been found with the face covered by a mask of cloth fitting closely to it, and overlaid with a coating of composition, so painted as to resemble the deceased, and to have the appearance of flesh. These, according to Sir G. Wilkinson, are probably of a Greek epoch. Greek mummies usually differed from those of the Egyptians in the manner of disposing the bandages of the arms [842]and legs. No Egyptian is found with the limbs bandaged separately, as those of Greek mummies. On the breast was frequently placed a scarabæus in immediate contact with the flesh. These scarabæi, when of stone, had their extended wings made of lead or silver. On the cartonage and case, in a corresponding situation above, the same emblem was also placed, to indicate the protecting influence of the Deity. The subjects painted upon the cartonage were the four genii of Amenti, and various emblems belonging to deities connected with the dead. A long line of hieroglyphics extending down the front usually contained the name and quality of the deceased, and the offerings presented by him to the gods; and transverse bands frequently repeated the former, with similar donations to other deities. On the breast was placed the figure of Netpe, with expanded wings, protecting the deceased; sacred arks, boats, and other things were arranged in different compartments, and Osiris, Isis, Anubis, and other deities, were frequently introduced. In some instances Isis was represented throwing her arms round the feet of the mummy, with this appropriate legend: "I embrace thy feet." A plaited beard was attached to the chin when the mummy was that of a man; the absence of this appendage indicated the mummy of a woman.

Mummy Cases and Sarcophagi.—The outer case of the mummy was either of wood—sycamore or cedar—or of stone. When of wood it had a flat or circular summit, sometimes with a stout square pillar rising at each angle. The whole was richly painted, and some of an older age frequently had a door represented near one of the corners. At one end was the figure of Isis, at the other Nepthys, and the top was painted with bands or fancy devices. In others, the lid represented the curving top of the ordinary Egyptian canopy. The stone coffins, usually called sarcophagi, were of oblong shape, having flat straight sides, like a box, with a curved or pointed lid. Sometimes the [843]figure of the deceased was represented upon the latter in relief, like that of the Queen of Amasis in the British Museum; and some were in the form of a King's name or oval. Others were made in the shape of the mummied body, whether of basalt, granite, slate, or limestone, specimens of which are met with in the British Museum. These cases were deposited in the sepulchral chambers. Various offerings were placed near them, and sometimes the instruments of the profession of the deceased. Near them were also placed vases and small figures of the deceased, of wood or vitrified earthenware. In Sir John Soane's museum is the sarcophagus of Seti I. (Menephtha) B.C. 1322, cut out of a single block of Oriental alabaster. It is profusely covered with hieroglyphics, and scenes on it depict the passage of the sun through the hours of the night. It was found by Belzoni in his tomb in the Biban-el-molouk. The sarcophagus now in the British Museum was formerly supposed to have been the identical sarcophagus which contained the body of Alexander the Great. The hieroglyphic name, which has been [844]read upon the monument, proves it to be that of Nectanebo I., of the thirtieth dynasty, who reigned from B.C. 381 to 363. Its material is a breccia from a quarry near Thebes, and is remarkable for its hardness. A remarkable rectangular-shaped coffin of whinstone was that of Menkare, the Mycerinus of the Greeks, and the builder of the third pyramid; this interesting relic was found by Colonel Vyse in the sepulchral chambers of the third pyramid, but was unfortunately lost at sea while on its way to England. The remains of the cedar-coffin of this monarch are in the British Museum. Many beautiful sarcophagi are in the Vatican at Rome.

The vases, generally named canopi, from their resemblance to certain vases made by the Romans to imitate the Egyptian taste, but inadmissible in its application to any Egyptian vase, were four in number, of different materials, according to the rank of the deceased, and were placed near his coffin in the tomb. Some were of common limestone, the most costly were of Oriental alabaster. These four vases form a complete series; the principal intestines of the mummy were placed in them, embalmed in spices and various substances, and rolled up in linen, each containing a separate portion. They were supposed to belong to the four genii of Amenti, whose heads and names they bore. The vase with a cover, representing the human head of Amset, held the stomach and large intestines; that with the cynocephalus head of Hapi contained the small intestines; in that belonging to the jackal-headed Tuautmutf were the lungs and heart; and for the vase of the hawk-headed Kabhsenuf were reserved the gall-bladder and liver. On the sides of the vases were several columns of hieroglyphics, which expressed the adoration of the deceased to each of the four deities whose symbols adorned the covers, and which gave the name of the deceased.

Small figures, called shabti, offered through respect for the [845]dead, are to be found in great numbers in the tombs. They were images of Osiris, whose form the deceased was supposed to assume, and who thence was called the Osirian. They are in several shapes, sometimes in that of the deceased, standing in the dress of the period, but more generally in the shape of a mummy, the body swathed in bandages, from which the hands come out, holding a hoe, hab, and pick-ax, and the cord of a square basket, slung on the left shoulder, or nape of the neck. The head attire of the deceased is either that of the period or dignity, and in the case of monarchs accompanied by the uræus, emblem of royalty. Some figures hold the emblem of life, ankh, and of stability, tat, or a whip, khu. They are generally of wood, or vitrified earthenware. The name and quality of the deceased are found on all those in the same tomb, and thrown on the ground round the sarcophagus. They usually bear in hieroglyphics the sixth chapter of the funeral ritual. Some are found with a blank space left for the name of the deceased, which leads one to think that the relations and friends procured these figures from dealers; the funeral formula, with a list of the customary presentations of offerings for his soul to Osiris were already on them; nothing was wanting but the name of the deceased; this being added, they were then evidently offered as testimonies of respect by the relations and friends of the deceased, perhaps at the funeral, and then collected and placed in the tomb. Sometimes these small figures were placed in painted cases divided into compartments. These cases were about two feet long and one foot high.

Manuscripts on papyrus, of various lengths, have been found on some mummies. These rolls of papyrus are found in the coffins, or under the swathings of the mummies, between the legs, on the breast, or under the arms. Some are enclosed in a cylindrical case. The papyrus of the Museum of Turin is sixty-six feet long, that at Paris is twenty-two feet long; others are of [846]different lengths, down to two or three feet. That of Turin may be considered as complete. On all, the upper part of the page is occupied by a line of figures of the divinities which the soul visits in succession; the rest is filled with perpendicular columns of hieroglyphics, which are prayers which the soul addresses to each divinity; towards the end of the manuscript is painted the judgment scene; the great god Osiris is on his throne; at his feet is an enormous female crocodile, its mouth open; behind is the divine balance, surmounted by a cynocephalus emblem of universal justice; the good and bad actions of the soul are weighed in his presence. Horus examines the plummet, and Thoth records the sentence; standing close by is the soul of the deceased in its corporeal form, conducted by the two goddesses, Truth and Justice, before the great judge of the dead. The name of Ritual of the Dead has been given by Egyptologists to these papyri, but in reality they bear the title of "The Book of the Manifestation to Light." A copy of this, more or less complete, according to the fortune of the deceased, was deposited in the case of every mummy. The book was revised under the twenty-sixth dynasty, and then assumed its final definite form. But many parts of it are of the highest antiquity. The whole series of pilgrimages which the soul, separated from the body, was believed to accomplish in the various divisions of the lower regions, are related in this book. It contained also a collection of prayers for the use of the deceased in the other world, and of magical formulæ intended to secure the preservation of the mummy from decay, and to prevent its possession by an evil spirit, till the ultimate return of the soul of the deceased. Many of these rituals are also found written, not in hieroglyphics, but in hieratic characters, which are an abbreviated form of hieroglyphic signs. Papyri with hieroglyphics are nearly always divided by ruled lines into narrow vertical columns of an inch or less in breadth, in which the hieroglyphic signs are arranged one [847]under the other. Sometimes the papyri are found written in the enchorial character. Several manuscripts in Greek on papyrus have been also discovered in Egypt; they are, however, of a late date, and relate to the sale of lands; many have been discovered referring to lands and possessions about Thebes, one of which has been given in full on page 245.

Roman Tombs.—Before commencing our description of the tombs which line the way as the visitor approaches Pompeii, and seem to prepare him for that funeral silence which reigns in the long-lost city, the more remarkable for its contrast with the gay and festive style of decoration which still characterizes the remains which surround him, it is our intention, as we have done [848]in other instances, to give some general information upon the subject which we are about to treat in detail, for the benefit of those among our readers to whom the forms of Roman burial and the expressions of Roman sorrow are unfamiliar.

Great, absurdly great among the uneducated, as is the importance attached to a due performance of the rites of burial in the present day, it is as nothing compared to the interest which was felt on this subject by the Romans; and not by them only, but by other nations of antiquity, with whose manners we have nothing to do here. The Romans indeed had a good reason for this anxiety, for they believed, in common with the Greeks, that if the body remained unentombed, the soul wandered for a hundred years on the hither side of the Styx, alone and desponding, unable to gain admission to its final resting-place, whether among the happy or the miserable. If, therefore, any person perished at sea, or otherwise under such circumstances that his body could not be found, a cenotaph, or empty tomb, was erected by his surviving friends, which served as well for his passport over the Stygian ferry as if his body had been burnt or committed to the earth with due ceremonies. Hence it became a religious duty, not rashly to be neglected, to scatter earth over any unburied body which men chanced to see, for even so slight a sepulchre as this was held sufficient to appease the scruples of the infernal gods. The reader, if there be any readers of Latin to whom these superstitions are unfamiliar, may refer to the sixth book of the Æneid, line 325, and to a remarkable ode of Horace, the 28th of the first book, which turns entirely upon this subject. Burial, therefore, was a matter of considerable importance.

When death approached, the nearest relative hung over the dying person, endeavoring to inhale his last breath, in a fond belief that the anima, the living principle, departed at that moment, and by that passage from the body. Hence the [849]phrases, animam in primo ore tenere, spiritum excipere, and the like. It is curious to observe how an established form of expression holds its ground. Here are we, after the lapse of eighteen hundred years, still talking of receiving a dying friend's last breath, as if we really meant what we say. After death the body was washed and anointed by persons called pollinctores; then laid out on a bier, the feet to the door, to typify its approaching departure, dressed in the best attire which it had formerly owned. The bier was often decked with leaves and flowers, a simple and touching tribute of affection, which is of the heart, and speaks to it, and therefore has maintained its ground in every age and region, unaffected by the constant changes in customs merely arbitrary and conventional.

In the early ages of Rome the rites of burial and burning seem to have been alike in use. Afterwards the former seems (for the matter is not very clear) to have prevailed, until towards the close of the seventh century of the city, after the death of Sylla, who is said to have been the first of the patrician Cornelii who was burnt. Thenceforward corpses were almost universally consumed by fire until the establishment of Christianity, when the old fashion was brought up again, burning being violently opposed by the fathers of the church, probably on account of its intimate connection with Pagan associations and superstitions. Seven days, we are told, elapsed between death and the funeral; on the eighth the corpse was committed to the flames; on the ninth the ashes were deposited in the sepulchre. This probably refers only to the funerals of the great, where much splendor and extent of preparation was required, and especially those public funerals (funera indictiva) to which the whole people were bidden by voice of crier, the ceremony being often closed by theatrical and gladiatorial exhibitions, and a [850]sumptuous banquet. But we have no intention to narrate the pomp which accompanied the princely nobles of Rome to the tomb: it is enough for our purpose to explain the usages of private life, to which the Street of Tombs owes its origin and its interest.

In the older times funerals were celebrated at night because the rites of religion were celebrated by day; and it was pollution for the ministers, or for anything connected with worship of the deities of the upper world, even to see, much more to touch, anything connected with death. From this nightly solemnization many of the words connected with this subject are derived. Those who bore the bier were called originally Vesperones, thence Vespillones, from Vespera, evening; and the very term funus is derived by grammarians, a funalibus, from the rope torches coated with wax or tallow which continued to be used long after the necessity for using them ceased. This practice, now far more than two thousand years old, is still retained in the Roman Church, with many other ceremonies borrowed from heathen rites. St. Chrysostom assures us that it is not of modern revival, and gives a beautiful reason for its being retained. "Tell me," he says, "what mean those brilliant lamps? Do we not go forth with the dead on their way rejoicing, as with men who have fought their fight?"

The corpse being placed upon a litter or bier, the former being used by the wealthy, the latter by the poor, was carried out preceded by instrumental musicians, and female singers, who chanted the dirge. These hired attendants, whose noisy sorrow was as genuine as the dumb grief of our mutes, were succeeded, if the deceased were noble, or distinguished by personal exploits, by numerous couches containing the family effigies of his ancestors, each by itself, that the length of his lineage might be the more conspicuous; by the images of such nations as he had conquered, such cities as he had taken; by the spoils which he had [851]won; by the ensigns of the magistracies which he had filled; but if the fasces were among them these were borne reversed. Then came the slaves whom he had emancipated (and often with a view to this post-mortem magnificence, a master emancipated great numbers of them), wearing hats in token of their manumission. Behind the corpse came the nearest relations, profuse in the display of grief as far as it can be shown by weeping, howling, beating the breasts and cheeks, and tearing the hair, which was laid, as a last tribute of affection, on the breast of the deceased, to be consumed with him. To shave the head was also a sign of mourning. It is a curious inversion of the ordinary customs of life, that the sons of the deceased mourned with the head covered, the daughters with it bare.

With this attendance the body was borne to the place of burial, being usually carried through the Forum, where, if the deceased had been a person of any eminence, a funeral oration was spoken from the rostra in his honor. The place of burial was without the city, in almost every instance. By the twelve tables it was enacted that no one should be burned or buried within the city; and as this wholesome law fell into disuse, it was from time to time revived and enforced. The reasons for its establishment were twofold, religious and civil. To the former head belongs the reason, already assigned for a different observance, that the very sight of things connected with death brought pollution on things consecrated to the gods of the upper world. So far was this carried that the priest of Jupiter might not even enter any place where there was a tomb, or so much as hear the funeral pipes; nay, his wife, the Flaminica, might not wear shoes made of the hide of an ox which had died a natural death, because all things which had died spontaneously were of ill omen. Besides, it was an ill omen to any one to come upon a tomb unawares. Another reason was that the public convenience might not be interrupted by private rites, since no [852]tombs could be removed without sacrilege when once established, unless by the state, upon sufficient cause. The civil reasons are to be sought in the unwholesome exhalations of large burying-grounds, and the danger of fire from burning funeral piles in the neighborhood of houses. It is not meant, however, that there were no tombs within the city. Some appear to have been included by the gradual extension of the walls; others were established in those intervals when the law of the twelve tables fell, as we have said, into desuetude; nor does it appear that these were destroyed, nor their contents removed. Thus both the Claudian and the Cincian clans had sepulchres in Rome, the former under the Capitol.

If the family were of sufficient consequence to have a patrimonial tomb the deceased was laid in it; if he had none such, and was wealthy, he usually constructed a tomb upon his property during life, or bought a piece of ground for the purpose. If possible the tomb was always placed near a road. Hence the usual form of inscription, Siste, Viator (Stay, Traveler), continually used in churches by those small wits who thought that nothing could be good English which was not half Latin, and forgot that in our country the traveler must have stayed already to visit the sexton before he can possibly do so in compliance with the advice of the monument. For the poor there were public burial-grounds, called puticuli, a puteis, from the trenches ready dug to receive bodies. Such was the ground at the [853]Esquiline gate, which Augustus gave Mæcenas for his gardens. Public tombs were also granted by the state to eminent men, an honor in early times conferred on few. These grants were usually made in the Campus Martius, where no one could legally be buried without a decree of the senate in his favor. It appears from the inscriptions found in the Street of Tombs, at Pompeii, that much, if not the whole of the ground on which those tombs are built, was public property, the property of the corporation, as we should now say; and that the sites of many, perhaps of all, were either purchased or granted by the decurions, or municipal senate, in gratitude for obligations received.

Sometimes the body was burned at the place where it was to be entombed, which, when the pile and sepulchre were thus joined, was called bustum; sometimes the sepulchre was at a distance from the place of burning, which was then called ustrina. The words bustum and sepulchrum, therefore, though often loosely used as synonymous, are not in fact so, the latter being involved in, but by no means comprehending the former. The pile was ordered to be built of rough wood, unpolished by the ax. Pitch was added to quicken the flames, and cypress, the aromatic scent of which was useful to overpower the stench of the burning body. The funeral piles of great men were of immense size and splendidly adorned; and all classes appear to have indulged their vanity in this respect to the utmost of their means, so that a small and unattended pyre is mentioned as the mark of an insignificant or friendless person. The body was placed on it in the litter or bier; the nearest relation present then opened the eyes, which it had been the duty of the same person to close immediately after death, and set fire to the wood with averted face, in testimony that he performed that office not of good will, but of necessity. As the combustion proceeded, various offerings were cast into the flames. The manes were believed to love blood; animals, therefore, especially those which [854]they had loved while alive, were killed and thrown upon the pile, as horses, dogs and doves, besides the beasts commonly used in sacrifice, as sheep and oxen. Human beings, especially prisoners of war, were sometimes put to death, though not in the later times of the republic. The most costly robes and arms of the deceased, especially trophies taken in warfare, were also devoted in his honor, and the blaze was fed by the costly oils and gums of the East. The body being reduced to ashes, these were then quenched with wine, and collected by the nearest relation; after which, if the grief were real, they were again bedewed with tears; if not, wine or unguents answered the purpose equally well. The whole ceremony is described in a few lines by Tibullus:

The ashes thus collected were then finally deposited in the urn, which was made of different materials, according to the quality of the dead; usually of clay or glass, but sometimes of marble, bronze, and even the precious metals. The ceremony thus over, the præfica gave the word, Ilicet (the contracted form of Ire licet, It is lawful to go), and the bystanders departed, having been thrice sprinkled with a branch of olive or laurel dipped in water, to purify them from the pollution which [855]they had contracted, and repeating thrice the words, Vale, or Salve, words of frequent occurrence in monumental inscriptions, as in one of beautiful simplicity which we quote:

"Farewell, most happy soul of Caia Oppia. We shall follow thee in such order as may be appointed by nature. Farewell, sweetest mother."

The distinction between cenotaphs and tombs has been already explained. Cenotaphs, however, were of two sorts: those erected to persons already duly buried, which were merely honorary, and those erected to the unburied dead, which had a religious end and efficacy. This evasion of the penal laws against lying unburied was chiefly serviceable to persons shipwrecked or slain in war; but all came in for the benefit of it whose bodies could not be found or identified. When a cenotaph of the latter class was erected sacrifices were offered, the names of the deceased were thrice invoked with a loud voice, as if to summon them to their new abode, and the cenotaph was hallowed with the same privileges as if the ashes of the deceased reposed within it.

The heir, however, had not discharged his last duty when he had laid the body of his predecessor in the tomb; there were still due solemn rites, and those of an expensive character. The Romans loved to keep alive the memory of their dead, showing therein a constancy of affection which does them honor; and not only immediately after the funeral, but at stated periods from time to time, they celebrated feasts and offered sacrifices and libations to them. The month of February was especially set apart for doing honor to the manes, having obtained that distinction in virtue of being, in old times, the last month of the year. Private funeral feasts were also celebrated on the ninth day after death, and indeed at any time, except on those days which were marked as unlucky, because some great public calamity had befallen upon them. Besides these feasts, the dead [856]were honored with sacrifices, which were offered to the manes, and with games; but the latter belong more to those splendid public funerals which we have professed not to describe. The inferiæ consisted principally of libations, for which were used water, milk, wine, but especially blood, the smell of which was thought peculiarly palatable to the ghosts. Perfumes and flowers were also thrown upon the tomb; and the inexpediency of wasting rich wines and precious oils on a cold stone and dead body, when they might be employed in comforting the living, was a favorite subject with the bons vivans of the age. It was with the same design to crown it with garlands, and to honor it with libations, that Electra and Orestes met and recognized each other at their father's tomb. Roses were in especial request for this service, and lilies also:

Inscriptions.—Before entering upon a description of the catacombs, we will speak of the inscriptions of the ancients. Most of the tombs are really Egyptian, and no nation has left so many inscriptions as the Egyptian. All its monuments are covered with them. Its temples, palaces, tombs, isolated monuments, present an infinite number of inscriptions in hieroglyphic, hieratic, and demotic characters. The Egyptians rarely executed a statue, or figured representation, without inscribing by its side its name or subject. This name is invariably found by the side of each divinity, personage, or individual. In each painted scene, on each sculptured figure, an inscription, more or less extensive, explains its subject.

The characters used by the Egyptians were of three [857]kinds—hieroglyphic, hieratic, and demotic. The latter has been also termed enchorial, or popular. The first was doubtless a system of representational signs, or picture writing—the earliest form of writing, in the first stage of its development; the hieratic is an abbreviated form of the hieroglyphic; the demotic, a simplified form of the hieratic, and a near approach towards the alphabetic system.

Hieroglyphics (styled by the Egyptians skhai en neter tur—writing of sacred words) are composed of signs representing objects of the physical world, as animals, plants, stars, man and his different members, and various objects. They are pure or linear, the latter being a reduction of the former. The pure were always sculptured or painted. The linear were generally used in the earlier papyri, containing funeral rituals.

They have been divided into four classes:—1, Representational or ikonographic; 2, Symbolic or tropical; 3, Enigmatic; 4, Phonetic. From the examination of hieroglyphic inscriptions of different ages, it is evident that these four classes of symbols were used promiscuously, according to the pleasure and convenience of the artist.

1. Ikonographic, representational, or imitative hieroglyphics, are those that present the images of the things expressed, as the sun's disk to signify the sun, the crescent to signify the moon. These may be styled pure hieroglyphics.

2. The symbolical, or tropical (by Bunsen termed ideographic), substituted one object for another, to which it bore an analogy, as heaven and a star expressed night; a leg in a trap, deceit; two arms stretched towards heaven expressed the word offering; a censer with some grains of incense, adoration; a bee was made to signify Lower Egypt; the fore-quarters of a lion, strength; a crocodile, darkness. The following hieroglyphics [858]were on the triumph Hall Thothmes III., and mean, after translating:

"I went: I order that you reduce and crush all the high officers of Tsahi. I cast them together with all their possessions at thy feet."

This kind of character appears to have been particularly invented for the expression of abstract ideas, especially belonging to religion or the royal power. These are the characters generally alluded to by the ancients when they speak of hieroglyphics, and are the most difficult of interpretation.

3. Enigmatic are those in which an emblematic figure is put in lieu of the one intended to be represented, as a hawk for the sun; a seated figure with a curved beard, for a god. These three kinds were either used alone, or in company with the phonetically written word they represented. Thus: 1. The word Ra, sun, might be written in letters only, or be also followed by the ikonograph, the solar disk (which if alone would still have the same meaning—Ra, the sun). So, too, the word "moon," Aah, was followed by the crescent. In these cases the sign so following the phonetic word has been called a terminative, from its serving to determine the meaning of what preceded it. We give here a few words translated:

"In your transformation as golden sperbe you have accomplished it."

2. In the same manner, the tropical hieroglyphics might be alone or in company with the word written phonetically; and the expression "to write," skhai, might be followed or not by its [859]tropical hieroglyphic, the "pen and inkstand," as its determinative sign. 3. The emblematic figure, a hawk-headed god, bearing the disk, signifying the "sun," might also be alone, or after the name "Ra" written phonetically, as a determinative sign; and as a general rule the determinative followed, instead of preceding the names. Determinatives are of two kinds—ideograms, and generic determinatives: the first were the pictures of the object spoken of; the second, conventional symbols of the class of notions expressed by the word.

4. Phonetic. Phonetic characters or signs were those expressive of sounds. They are either purely alphabetic or syllabic. All the other Egyptian phonetic signs have syllabic values, which are resolvable into combinations of the letters of the alphabet. This phonetic principle being admitted, the numbers of figures used to represent a sound might have been increased almost without limit, and any hieroglyphic might stand for the first letter of its name. So copious an alphabet would have been a continual source of error. The characters, therefore, thus applied, were soon fixed, and the Egyptians practically confined themselves to particular hieroglyphics in writing certain words.

Hieroglyphic writing was employed on monuments of all kinds, on temples as well as on the smallest figures, and on bricks used for building purposes. On the most ancient monuments this writing is absolutely the same as on the most recent Egyptian work. Out of Egypt there is scarcely a single example of a graphic system identically the same during a period of over two thousand years. The hieroglyphic characters were either engraved in relief, or sunk below the surface on the public [860]monuments, and objects of hard materials suited for the glyptic art. The hieroglyphics on the monuments are either sculptured and plain, or decorated with colors. The colored are divided into two distinct classes, the monochromatic of one simple tone, and the polychromatic, or those which rendered with more or less fidelity the color of the object they were intended to depict. The hieroglyphic figures were arranged in vertical columns or horizontal lines, and grouped together as circumstances required, so as to leave no spaces unnecessarily vacant. They were written from right to left, or from left to right. The order in which the characters were to be read, was shown by the direction in which the figures are placed, as their heads are invariably turned towards the reader. A single line of hieroglyphics—the dedication of a temple or of any other monument, for example—proceeds sometimes one half from left to right, and the other half from right to left; but in this case a sign, such as the sacred tau, or an obelisk, which has no particular direction, is placed in the middle of the inscription, and it is from that sign that the two halves of the inscription take each an opposite direction.

The period when hieroglyphics—the oldest Egyptian characters—were first used, is uncertain. They are found in the Great Pyramid of the time of the fourth dynasty, and had evidently been invented long before, having already assumed a cursive style.[23] This shows them to be far older than any other known writing; and the written documents of the ancient languages of Asia, the Sanskrit and the Zend, are of a recent time compared with those of Egypt, even if the date of the Rig-Veda in the fifteenth century B.C. be proved. Manetho shows that the invention of writing was known in the reign of Athoth [861](the son and successor of Menes), the second King of Egypt, when he ascribes to him the writing of the anatomical books, and tradition assigned to it a still earlier origin. At all events, hieroglyphics, and the use of the papyrus, with the usual reed pen, are shown to have been common when the pyramids were built, and their style in the sculptures proves that they were then a very old invention. In hieroglyphics of the earliest periods there were fewer phonetic characters than in after ages, these periods being nearer to the original picture-writing. The number of signs also varied at different times; but they may be reckoned at from 900 to 1,000. Various new characters were added at subsequent periods, and a still greater number were introduced under the Ptolemies and Cæsars, which are not found in the early monuments; some, again, of the older times, fell into disuse.

Hieratic is an abbreviated form of the hieroglyphic; thus each hieroglyphic sign—ikonographic, symbolic, or phonetic—has its abridged hieratic form, and this abridged form has the same import as the sign itself of which it is a reduced copy. It was written from right to left, and was the character used by the priests and sacred scribes, whence its name. It was invented at least as early as the ninth dynasty (4,240 years ago), and fell into disuse when the demotic had been introduced. The hieratic writing was generally used for manuscripts, and is also found on the cases of mummies, and on isolated stones and tablets. Long inscriptions have been written on them with a brush. Inscriptions of this kind are also found on buildings, written or engraved by ancient travelers. But its most important use was in the historical papyri, and the registers of the temples. Most valuable information respecting the chronology and numeric systems of the Egyptians has been derived from them.

Demotic, or enchorial, is composed of signs derived from the hieratic, and is a simplified form of it, but from which figurative or ikonographic signs are generally excluded, and but few [862]symbolical signs, relative to religion alone, are retained; signs nearly approaching the alphabetic are chiefly met with in this third kind of writing. It was invariably written, like the hieratic, from right to left. It is thus evident that the Egyptians, strictly speaking, had but one system of writing, composed of three kinds of signs, the second and third being regularly deduced from the first, and all three governed by the same fundamental principles. The demotic was reserved for general use among the Egyptians: decrees and other public acts, contracts, some funeral stelæ, and private transactions, were written in demotic. The intermediate text of the Rosetta inscription is of this kind. It is not quite certain when the demotic first came into use, but it was at least as early as the reign of Psammetichus II., of the twenty-sixth dynasty (B.C. 604); and it had therefore long been employed when Herodotus visited Egypt. Soon after its invention it was adopted for all ordinary purposes.

The chief objects of interest in the study of an Egyptian inscription are its historical indications. These are found in the names of Kings or of chief officers, and in the dates they contain. The names of Kings are always enclosed in an oval called cartouche. An oval contains either the royal title or prænomen, or the proper name or nomen of the King.

The dates which are found with these royal legends are also of great importance in an historical point of view, and monuments which bear any numerical indications are exceedingly rare. These numerical indications are either the age of the deceased on a funeral tablet, or the number of different consecrated objects which he has offered to the gods, or the date of an event mentioned in the inscription. [863]Dates, properly so called, are the most interesting to collect; they are expressed in hieroglyphic cyphers, single lines expressing the number of units up to nine, when an arbitrary sign represents 10, another 100, and another 10,000.

The most celebrated Egyptian inscriptions are those of the Rosetta stone. This stone, a tablet of black basalt, contains three inscriptions, one in hieroglyphics, another in demotic or enchorial, and a third in the Greek language. The inscriptions are to the same purport in each, and are a decree of the priesthood of Memphis, in honor of Ptolemy Epiphanes, about the year B.C. 196. "Ptolemy is there styled King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Son of the gods Philopatores, approved by Pthah, to whom Ra has given victory, a living image of Amun, son of Ra, Ptolemy Immortal, beloved by Pthah, God Epiphanes, most gracious. In the date of the decree we are told the names of the priests of Alexander, of the gods Soteres, of the gods Adelphi, of the gods Euergetæ, of the gods Philopatores, of the god Epiphanes himself, of Berenice Euergetis, of Arsinoe Philadelphus, and of Arsinoe Philopator. The preamble mentions with gratitude the services of the King, or rather of his wise minister, Aristomenes, and the enactment orders that the statue of the King shall be worshipped in every temple of Egypt, and be carried out in the processions with those of the gods of the country, and lastly that the decree is to be carved at the foot of every statue of the King in sacred, in common and in Greek writing" (Sharpe). It is now in the British Museum. This stone is remarkable for having led to the discovery of the system pursued by the Egyptians in their monumental writing, and for having furnished a key to its interpretation, Dr. Young giving the first hints by establishing the phonetic value of the hieroglyphic signs, which were followed up and carried out by Champollion.

Another important and much more ancient inscription is the [864]tablet of Abydos in the British Museum. It was discovered by Mr. Banks in a chamber of the temple of Abydos, in 1818. It is now greatly disfigured, but when perfect it represented an offering made by Remeses II., of the nineteenth dynasty, to his predecessors on the throne of Egypt. The tablet is of fine limestone, and originally contained the names of fifty-two Kings disposed in the two upper lines, twenty-six in each line, and a third or lower line with the name and prænomen of Remeses II. or III. repeated twenty-six times. On the upper line, beginning from the right hand, are the names of monarchs anterior to the twelfth dynasty. The names in the second line are those of monarchs of the twelfth and the eighteenth or nineteenth dynasties. The King Remeses II. probably stood on the right hand of the tablet, and on the other is the lower part of a figure of Osiris. The lateral inscription is the speech of the deceased King to "their son" Remeses II.

The tablet of Karnac, now in one of the halls of the Bibliotheque at Paris, was discovered by Burton in a chamber situated in the southeast angle of the temple-palace of Thebes, and was published by its discoverer in his "Excerpta Hieroglyphica." The chamber itself was fully described by Rosellini in his "Monumenti Storici." The Kings are in two rows, overlooked each of them by a large figure of Thothmes III., the fifth King of the eighteenth dynasty. In the row to the left of the entrance are thirty-one names, and in that to the right are thirty, all of them predecessors of Thothmes. The Theban Kings who ruled in Upper Egypt during the usurpation of the Hyksos invaders are also exhibited among the lists. Over the head of each King is his oval, containing his royal titles.

A most valuable tablet of Kings has been lately discovered by M. Mariette in a tomb near Memphis, that of a priest who lived under Remeses II., and was called Tunar-i. It contains two rows of Kings' names, each twenty-nine in number. Six [865]have been wholly obliterated out of the upper row, and five out of the lower row. The upper row contains the names of Remeses II. and his predecessors, who seem all meant for Kings of Upper Egypt, or Kings of Memphis who ruled over Upper Egypt, while the names in the lower row seem meant for contemporaneous High Priests of Memphis, some or all of whom may have called themselves Kings of Lower Egypt. The result of the comparison of this tablet with other authorities, namely, Manetho, Eratosthenes, and the tablet of Abydos, is supposed by some to contradict the longer views of chronology held by Bunsen, Lepsius and others. Thus, reading the list of names backwards from Remeses II. to Amosis, the first of the eighteenth dynasty, this tablet, like the tablet of Abydos, immediately jumps to the Kings of Manetho's twelfth dynasty; thus arguing that the intermediate five dynasties mentioned by Manetho must have been reigning contemporaneously with the others, and add no length of time to a table of chronology. There is also a further omission in this tablet of four more dynasties. This tablet would thus seem to confirm the views of the opponents of the longer chronology of Bunsen and others, by striking out from the long chronology two periods amounting together to 1,536 years. But a complete counterpart of the tablet of Memphis has been recently found at Abydos by M. Mariette, fully confirming the chronology of Manetho, and bearing out the views of Bunsen and Lepsius. The Moniteur publishes a letter from M. Mariette, containing the following statement:—"At Abydos I have discovered a magnificent counterpart of the tablet of Sakharah. Seti I., accompanied by his son, subsequently Remeses II. (Sesostris), presents an offering to seventy-six Kings drawn up in line before him. Menes (the first King of the first dynasty on Manetho's list) is at their head. From Menes to Seti I., this formidable list passes through nearly all the dynasties. The first six are represented therein. We are next [866]introduced to sovereigns still unknown to us, belonging to the obscure period which extends from the end of the sixth to the beginning of the eleventh. From the eleventh to the eighteenth the new table follows the beaten track, which it does not quit again during the reign of Thothmes, Amenophis, and the first Remeses. If in this new list everything is not absolutely new, we at least find in it a valuable confirmation of Manetho's list, and in the present state of science we can hardly expect more. Whatever confirms Manetho gives us confidence in our own efforts, even as whatever contradicts it weakens the results we obtain. The new tablet of Abydos is, moreover, the completest and best preserved monument we possess in this respect. Its style is splendid, and there is not a single cartouche or oval wanting. It has been found engraved on one of the walls of a small chamber in the large temple of Abydos."

An important stone bearing a Greek inscription with equivalent Egyptian hieroglyphics has been discovered by Professor Lepsius, at San, the former Tanis, the chief scene of the grand architectural undertakings of Remeses II. The Greek inscription consists of seventy-six lines, in the most perfect preservation, dating from the time of Ptolemy Euergetes I. (B.C. 238). The hieroglyphical inscription has thirty-seven lines. It was also found that a demotic inscription was ordered to be added by the priests, on a stone or brass stele, in the sacred writing of the Egyptians and in Greek characters; this is unfortunately wanting. The contents of the inscription are of great interest. It is dated the ninth year the seventh Apellæus—seventeen Tybi, of the reign of Euergetes I. The priests of Egypt came together in Canopus to celebrate the birthday of Euergetes, on the fifth Dios, and his assumption of the royal honor on the twenty-eighth of the same month, when they passed the decree here published. They enumerate all the good deeds of the King, amongst them the merit of having recovered in a military expedition the sacred [867]images carried off in former times by the Persians, and order great honors to be paid in reward for his services. This tablet of calcareous stone with a rounded top, is about seven feet high, and is completely covered by the inscription. The discovery of this stone is of the greatest importance for hieroglyphical studies.

We may mention here another inscribed tablet, the celebrated Isiac table in the Museum at Turin. It is a tablet in bronze, covered with Egyptian figures or hieroglyphics engraved or sunk, the outlines being filled with silvering, forming a kind of niello. It was one of the first objects that excited an interest in the interpretation of hieroglyphics, and elicited learned solutions from Kircher and others. It is now considered to be one of those pseudo-Egyptian productions so extensively fabricated during the reign of Hadrian.

The Egyptian obelisks also present important inscriptions. Of these the most ancient is that of Heliopolis.

We have selected these few examples of Egyptian inscriptions for their celebrity. Almost every Egyptian monument, of whatever period, temples, statues, tablets, small statues, were inscribed with hieroglyphic inscriptions, all generally executed with great care and finish. The Egyptian edifices were also covered with religious or historical tableaux, sculptured and painted on all the walls; it has been estimated that in one single temple there existed no less [868]than 30,000 square feet of sculpture, and at the sides of these tableaux were innumerable inscriptions, equally composed of ingeniously grouped figurative signs, in explanation of the subjects, and combining with them far more happily than if they had been the finest alphabetical characters in the world.

Their study would require more than a lifetime, and we have only space to give a few general hints.

We have a much more accurate knowledge of Greek inscriptions than we have of Egyptian palæography. The Greek alphabet, and all its variations, as well as the language, customs, and history of that illustrious people, are better known to us. Greek inscriptions lead us back to those glorious periods of the Greek people when their heroes and writers made themselves immortal by their illustrious deeds and writings. What emotions must arise in the breast of the archæologist who finds in a marble worn by time the funereal monument placed by Athens, twenty-three centuries ago, over the grave of its warriors who died before Potidæa.

The most important monumental inscription which presents Greek records, illustrating and establishing the chronology of Greek history, is the Parian chronicle, now preserved among the Arundelian marbles at Oxford. It was so called from the supposition of its having been made in the Island of Paros, B.C. 263. In its perfect state it was a square tablet, of coarse marble, five inches thick; and when Selden first inspected it it measured three feet seven inches by two feet seven inches. On this stone were engraved some of the principal events in the [869]history of ancient Greece, forming a compendium of chronology during a series of 1,318 years, which commenced with the reign of Cecrops, the first King of Athens, B.C. 1582, and ended with the archonship of Diognetus. It was deciphered and published by the learned Selden in 1628. It makes no mention of Olympiads, and reckons backwards from the time then present by years.

Particular attention should be paid, in the interpretation of Greek inscriptions, to distinguish the numerous titles of magistrates of every order, of public officers of different ranks, the names of gods and of nations, those of towns, and the tribes of a city; the prescribed formulas for different kinds of monuments; the text of decrees, letters, etc., which are given or cited in analogous texts; the names of monuments, such as stelæ, tablets, cippi, etc., the indication of places, or parts belonging to those places, where they ought to be set up or deposited, such as a temple or vestibule, a court or peristyle, public square, etc.; those at whose cost it was set up, the entire city or a curia, the public treasure, or a private fund, the names and surnames of public or private individuals; prerogatives or favors granted, such as the right of asylum, of hospitality, of citizenship; the punishments pronounced against those who should destroy or mutilate the monument; the conditions of treaties and alliances; the indications of weights, moneys and measures.

Another early example of a commemorative inscription of which the date can also be positively fixed is that lately discovered by Dr. Frick on the bronze serpent with the three heads, now at Constantinople, which supported the golden tripod which was dedicated, as Herodotus states, to Apollo by the allied Greeks as a tenth of the Persian spoils at Platæa, and which was placed near the altar at Delphi. On this monument, as we learn from Thucydides, Pausanias, regent of Sparta, inscribed an arrogant distich, in which he commemorates the victory in his own name [870]as general in chief, hardly mentioning the allied forces who gained it. This epigram was subsequently erased by the Lacedæmonians, who substituted it for an inscription enumerating the various Hellenic states who had taken a part in repulsing the Persian invaders. The inscription contains exactly what the statements of Thucydides and Herodotus would lead us to expect; the names of those Greek states which took an active part in the defeat of the Persians. Thirty-one names have been deciphered, and there seem to be traces of three more. The first three names in the list are the Lacedæmonians, Athenians, Corinthians. The remainder are nearly identical with those inscribed on the statue of Zeus at Olympia, as they are given by Pausanias. The names of the several states seem to be arranged on the serpent generally according to their relative importance, and also with some regard to their geographical distribution. The states of continental Greece are enumerated first; then the islanders and outlying colonies in the north and west. It is supposed the present inscription was placed on the serpent B.C. 476.

The dedicatory inscriptions on the statues at Branchidæ probably range from B.C. 580-520. The famous Sigean inscription, brought from the Troad to England in the last century, is now admitted to be not a pseudo-archaic imitation, as Bockh maintained, but a genuine specimen of Greek writing in Asia Minor, contemporary, or nearly so, with the Branchidæ inscriptions. Kirchhoff considers it not later than Olympiad 69 (B.C. 504-500).

A most interesting inscription of the archaic period is the celebrated bronze tablet, which Sir William Gell obtained from Olympia, and on which is engraved a treaty between the Eleans and Heræans. The terms of this specimen of ancient diplomacy are singularly concise. Kirchhoff places this inscription before Olympiad 75 (B.C. 480); Bockh assigns it to a much earlier date. In any case, we may regard this as the oldest extant treaty in [871]the Greek language. It must have been originally fixed on the wall of some temple at Olympia.

A series of Athenian records on marble has been found inscribed on the wall of the Parthenon, while others have been put together out of many fragments extracted from the ruins on the Acropolis and from excavations at Athens. Of the public records preserved in these inscriptions, the following are the most important classes: the tribute lists, the treasure lists, and the public accounts.

An interesting inscription has been lately brought to light in the diggings on the Athenian Acropolis. It is the treaty-stone between Athens and Chalcis. The inscription is of the days of Pericles, and records the terms on which Chalcis in Eubœa was again received as an Athenian dependency or subject ally after its revolt and recovery in B.C. 445. The event is recorded in Thucydides. The inscription is in Attic Greek, but the spelling is archaic.

Funeral monuments usually bear an inscription which gives the names and titles of the deceased, his country, his age, the names of his father and of his mother, his titles and his services, his distinguished qualities and his virtues. Frequently a funereal inscription contains only the names of the deceased, that of his country, and acclamations and votive formulæ generally terminate it.

The Sigean marble is one of the most celebrated palæographical monuments in existence. It is written in the most ancient Greek characters, and in the Boustrophedon manner. The purport of the inscription, which in sense is twice repeated, on the upper and lower part of the stone, is to record the presentation of three vessels for the use of the Prytaneum, or Town Hall of the Sigeans. The upper and lower inscriptions, in common letters, read thus:

The first inscription is thus translated: "I am the gift of [872]Phanodicus, the son of Hermocrates, of Proconnesus; he gave a vase (a crater), a stand or support for it, and a strainer, to the Sigeans for the Prytaneum." The second, which says, "I also am the gift of Phanodicus," repeating the substance of the former inscription, adds, "if any mischance happens to me, the Sigeans are to mend me. Æsop and his brethren made me." The lower inscription is the more ancient. It is now nearly obliterated. Kirchhoff considers it to be not later than Olympiad 69 B.C. (504-500).

The Athenian People erects this Statue of Socrates, the Son of Socrates of Thoricus.

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[873]

The Catacombs.

The catacombs, or under-ground cemeteries, are among the most stupendous wonders of antiquity, and have ever since their discovery excited the keenest interest of archæologists.

The cut on page 875 is a plan of the catacombs of Rome. These alone were years ago computed to be 590 miles in length, while Mr. Marchi, in the light of more recent investigations and new discoveries has calculated their length to be between 800 and 900 miles, and, that in the sepulchral enclosures of their vast hollows between 6,000,000 and 7,000,000 of the human race have been entombed. Most of the catacombs are situated from fifty to seventy-five feet below the surface of the earth, not a ray of natural light can penetrate the dense blackness of night which everywhere abounds. Woe to the man whose boldness leads him to venture alone into these dark depths! So extensive and so intricate are the corridors and passages that he must be irrevocably lost and miserably perish in this endless labyrinth. Even the most experienced guides, with burning torches in hand, would rather follow only thoroughly explored passages, and care not to leave well-beaten tracks.

The passages are from six to twelve feet high and have an average width of from three to six feet. In the tufa rock of which their walls are composed niches are hollowed out, one [874]above the other, in which the dead were laid, from three to six persons having been placed on each side. All the passages and galleries have these ghastly linings, and most of them end their long and dreary course in a chamber, as the reader may observe on examining the cuts below.

These chambers are often of large dimensions, and were originally adorned with great splendor and high art. They were the tombs of wealthy and noble families, who spared neither labor nor money in beautifying their final habitations. The walls and ceilings were exquisitely sculptured and painted by the most gifted artists of the age. Sarcophagi or coffins of bronze, of porphyry and other rare marbles contained the bodies of the dead. On their massive lids and sides were carved the forms and features of those lying within, so that even to-day we are in possession of fine and accurate portraits of ancient people. Around the sarcophagi were placed rich vases of gold, drinking cups of silver, and many other valuable treasures dear to the departed when alive. Statues of bronze and marble were ranged about in lavish array and gleamed under the soft light which fell from quaint lamps of precious metals, curious in shape and wrought with elaborate skill.

In the Roman Campagna there were forty-three catacombs, whose names are recorded in inscriptions, in martyrologies, and in the Pontifical Registers used by Anastasius, since republished, with additions, in various forms, and repeated in substance by Baronius in his Annals, and Panvinius in his treatise on the Cemeteries. Aringhi reckons on the number at fifty-six, and from the account of Signor de Rossi it appears that the number is now reckoned at about sixty. The number of general cemeteries is not so large.

[875]

[876]The original entrances to the catacombs were in many instances by subterranean roads or corridors, sometimes called streets. These corridors, which served as entrances to and passages in the burial-places, were originally old sand-pit roads, from which the Pozzolana sand had been extracted; when this bed of sand is extracted, the entrance is usually closed. The soft bed of Pozzolana sand was, however, not generally used for interments, but the harder bed under it, called "tufa granulare." The different horizontal layers or beds of tufa vary very much in hardness and also in thickness.

Although these catacombs may not be the finest cemeteries, yet the use of these would be infinitely preferable to the recent Roman practice of throwing the bodies of all persons, whose families can not afford to buy a piece of land in perpetuity, into a pit, in the same manner as the ancient Romans did the bodies of their slaves.

There are three hundred and eighty pits provided in the burial ground of S. Lorenzo, one of which was opened every night. All the bodies brought for interment that day or night were thrown into it, after being first stripped to the skin by the officials; and then hot lime was thrown upon them, that they might be thoroughly decayed before the year came round. The mouth of the pit was closed with lime grouting, so that no effluvium could escape, and this covering was not broken until the pit was wanted to be used again.

These corridors or passages of the sand-pits from which the Pozzolana sand had been excavated are large enough to admit a horse and cart; these were frequently the entrances to the catacombs, the corridors of which are usually by the side of or under those of the arenariæ, or sand-pits, and are only just large [877]enough for a man, or two men with a body, to pass along; the height varies from five to seven or eight feet, or more, according to the thickness of the bed of tufa. In the catacomb of S. Hermes, part of the wide sand-pit road has been reduced to one-third of its width, by building up brick walls on each side with loculi in them.

There is in general, at present, no communication between one catacomb and another; each occupies a separate hill or rising ground in the Campagna, and is separated from the others by the intervening valleys. When the first tier of tombs extended to the edges of the hill, a second was made under it, and then sometimes a third, or more. The manner in which the rock is excavated in a number of corridors twisting in all directions, in order to make room for the largest possible number of bodies, is thus accounted for. The plan of the catacomb of S. Priscilla is a good illustration of this. It would have been hardly safe to have excavated the rock to any greater extent. The lowest corridors are frequently below the level of the valleys, and there may have been originally passages from one to the other, so that one entrance to S. Calixtus may have been through S. Sebastian's. The peculiarly dry and drying nature of the sandstone, or tufa rock, in which these tombs are excavated, made them admirably calculated for the purpose. These catacombs were the public cemeteries of Christian Rome for several centuries, and it would have been well for the health of the city if they could always have continued so. Unfortunately after the siege of Rome by the Goths, in the time of Justinian, when some of the catacombs were rifled of their contents, the use of these excellent burying places was discontinued.

That the arenaria were considered as burying places in the time of Nero is evident from his exclamations of horror at the idea of being taken there alive for the purpose of concealment. The sand-pits are also mentioned by Cicero in his Oration for [878]Cluentius, where he says that the young Asinius, a citizen of noble family, was inveigled into one of them and murdered.

This shows they were in use before the Christian era, and there is every reason to believe that they have been in use ever since lime-mortar came into use, which is believed to have been many centuries before that period. The celebrated Pozzolana sand makes the best mortar in the world, from its gritty nature. This valuable sand is found to any extent nearly all over the Campagna of Rome, in horizontal beds or layers between the beds of tufa; some of the tufa itself, which is sandstone, may be scraped into this sand, but it is easier to take it as ready provided by nature. People once accustomed to the use of this sand can not do without it, and hundreds of carts filled with it may be seen daily traversing the Campagna, conveying it either to Rome, or to Ostia, or to Porto, for exportation. The horizontal layers or beds of this sand are not usually more than six feet thick, although they extend at a certain level over the whole surface of the country. It is therefore excavated in horizontal corridors, with various branches, extending for many miles, undermining the whole surface of the soil, but not in large or deep pits, so that the name of sand-pit is rather deceitful to American people, who commonly imagine it to be always a large and deep pit to which these roads lead only; this is not always the case, the roads themselves being excavated in the layer of sand, and frequently themselves the sand-pits. Sometimes there are different layers of sand at different levels, and in some cases there may be two sand-pit roads one over the other, with the bed of hard tufa between them.

[879]We are told in the Acta Sanctorum that one of the punishments inflicted on the Christians by the Emperor Maximinus in the sixth persecution, A.D. 35, was digging sand and stone. The martyrs, Ciriacus and Sisinnus are especially mentioned as ordered to be strictly guarded, and compelled to dig sand and to carry it on their own shoulders.

Some of the catacombs were evidently made under tombs by the side of the road, and in that of S. Calixtus there are remains of the tomb on the surface of the ground. The burial-chapels of the fourth century commonly found over a catacomb probably replace earlier tombs. The church of S. Urban is now considered to have been a family tomb of the first century, made into a church long afterwards.

Many inscriptions are preserved relating to the preservation of a tomb with the land belonging to it in perpetuity, and they frequently mention the number of feet along the road and in the field. Their size varies enormously. Horace mentions one that was 1,000 feet by 300 feet. The inscription of one dug up in the Via Labicana gives 1,800 feet by 500 feet; another was only twenty-four feet by fifteen feet, and another sixteen feet square. In the case of one of the larger tombs belonging to a family that became Christian, it was easy for them to make a catacomb under it and allow their fellow-Christians to be buried there, or to sell portions of the large space for separate vaults. Many vaults of sixteen feet square might be made in the space of 1,800 feet long by 500 feet wide, as the one on the Via Labicana. If the adjoining field belonged to the same family, the catacomb might be extended as far as the family property itself extended. This is the most probable explanation of the prædium of the [880]Lady Lucina and other Christian martyrs. They were heiresses to whom such a tomb and meadow belonged. When the space was limited, three or four stories were excavated in succession, one under the other, as we see in many instances.

The measurements of Michele de Rossi coincide with this in a remarkable manner. He finds the area of each separate catacomb to be respectively 100, 125, 150, 180 and 250 feet. None of these spaces are at all too large for the area commonly left round a tomb of importance, and the family property of this area would extend to any depth. Each cemetery was complete in itself, but sometimes connected with others by subterranean roads.

These tombs were protected by special laws, and the area in which the tomb stood was included with it. The area was often of considerable extent, and was intended for the burial-place of succeeding generations of the family to whom it belonged. The tombs of the period of the early empire were by no means exclusively for the columbaria for cinerary urns. The instances in which there are both places for bodies and urns are perhaps more numerous than those for urns only. The fine sarcophagi now found in museums, or applied to all sorts of uses, as water-troughs, vases for flowers, and various other purposes, were all originally in tombs, and generally in tombs in which there were also columbaria for cinerary urns. Some Pagan tombs on the Via Latina have catacombs for the interment of bodies under them, and often bodies were put in them.

The custom of burning the bodies was never universal, and lasted only for a certain period; the custom of burying bodies came in again soon after the Christian era, and probably was influenced by the strong feeling which sprung up among the Christians on this subject. The sumptuous painted chambers in the upper part of the tombs of the first and second centuries on the Via Latina were evidently imitated by the poor in the catacombs in the fourth and fifth centuries and later; but there is no evidence of any Scriptural or religious subjects for paintings before the time of Constantine. The character of the paintings is almost universally later, and the few that are early are not Christian nor Scriptural.

[881]

[882]It might very well happen that some members of the family were Christians and others were not, and this would account for the mixture of Pagan tombs with Christian ones in the same catacombs. The subterranean sand-pit roads frequently run parallel to the high roads at a little distance from them, and such a road passing at the back of the subterranean cemetery or catacomb would be very convenient to Christians in time of persecution. The part of these roads which came within the limits of the cemetery would naturally be used for burial places, also, as we see that they were distinctly in the case of S. Hermes, and nearly with equal certainty in other cases. In ordinary times, there was no necessity for secrecy. The bodies of Christian martyrs were given up for the purpose of burial to those who applied for them.

The catacombs of SS. Saturnius and Thraso, the entrance to which is in the gardens of the Villa Gangalani, about a mile from Rome, on the Via Salaria, are stated to have formed part of the great catacomb of S. Priscilla, the entrance to which is about a quarter of a mile farther from Rome, on the same road. On descending into that of S. Saturninus by a steep flight of steps of modern appearance, but perhaps restored only, we soon pass under the road and hear carriages passing overhead; we then continue to descend to the depth of about fifty feet, divided into five corridors, only four of which can at present be seen; but we pass the entrance to the fifth on one of the stair-cases, and see the opening to it. The two lower corridors of this catacomb have tombs or cubicula on the sides; a few of these are painted, and the vault of the corridor in front of them, also.

[883]The sandstone in which this catacomb is made is more than usually hard, for which reason apparently there are only three of the side chapels for family burying places, and few of the arched tombs; most of the recesses for graves are merely parallelograms just large enough to contain the body, or two bodies side by side, one behind the other, the recess being excavated to a sufficient depth for that purpose, and some of these have the slabs covering the openings left in their places. The skeletons are allowed to remain in several of the tombs where the slab has been removed and left open. One of the chapels has remains of paintings of the fourth century in a very decayed state. The other two chapels are connected by a short passage; they have evidently been family burying places, a second added when the first was full. The passage is made through the principal tomb of the first chapel, the body previously interred there was probably removed to the inner chapel when that was made. The painted chapel is in the upper corridor, the double one in the lowest.

In descending from the garden, the two upper corridors have tombs on the sides, and are regular catacombs; the third is an arenarium, or sand-pit, without tombs, and large enough for a horse and cart to pass along, as in the ordinary sand-pits. There must have been another entrance to this, and it is said to have been half a mile off, which is not improbable, judging by other sand-pits, both those now in use and others that are closed, some of which are known to be more than a mile long, and with the different branch galleries, the corridors altogether often extend several miles. These galleries are large and wide enough for a horse and cart, but not for two to pass, sidings being made at intervals for that purpose. The passages in the catacombs vary much both in height and in width, but are seldom more than three feet wide. The chapels also vary in size, but none of them would hold more than fifty people; those in the present catacomb are small.

[884]

That each of these chapels was the burial-place of a family, and was considered as private property, is evident from the remains of a door at the entrance of several of them, as in the catacomb of S. Priscilla. In one of these, the stone corbel, with the hole for the pivot to work in, remains in its place; the lower stone, with the corresponding hole, has been moved, but is lying on the floor in an adjoining chapel. Another door has been made to slide up and down like a portcullis or a modern sash-window, as we see by the groove remaining on both sides. This is close to a luminaria, or well for admitting light and air, and it seems quite possible that it really was a window, or that the upper part was made to slide down to admit the light and air from the luminaria. If this was the burial-place of Priscilla, the paintings were probably renewed in the restoration by John I., A.D. 523. The lower part of the wall is faced with stucco paneled with oblong panels, colored in imitation of different kinds of marble; the stucco is about an inch thick, like slabs of marble, and the divisions between the panels are sunk to that depth, as if each panel had been painted before it was placed and fixed to the walls like marble slabs. There are some long narrow slips of white stucco lying about, which seem to have been fitted into the hollow grooves between the slabs. The vaults in this catacomb are in many parts supported by brick arches; in one place, at a crossing, are four small low brick arches, the character of which agrees with the period of the restoration in the sixth century; the mortar between the bricks or tiles is about the same thickness as the tiles themselves, [885]which are rather more than an inch thick, so that there are five tiles to a foot, including the mortar between them. These brick arches are not subsequent repairs, but part of the original construction to carry the vault. The arenarium, or sand-pit gallery, through which the present entrance is made, has evidently been used as a subterranean road. A branch of an aqueduct running along the side of this is part of an extensive system of irrigation carried on throughout all this district, the water having been brought from the Aqua Virgo, which passed in this direction. It was probably part of the original line of the Aqueduct, which has been altered in the portion near to Rome; this has not been traced out to any considerable extent, but Signor de Rossi has found many remains and indications of it. The sand-pit roads, or arenaria, ran for miles parallel to the high roads, and were probably used by the carters in preference to the open roads in hot weather, as they are always cool.

Christian Inscriptions are all funereal, and are for the most part found in the catacombs, or subterranean cemeteries. The word cemetery is derived from a Greek word, meaning "a sleeping place," hence the frequent formulæ in the Christian epitaphs, "dormit in pace," he sleeps in peace; "dormitio Elpidis," the sleeping place of Elpis; "cubiculum Aureliæ," the sleeping chamber of Aurelia. The term catacomb was applied to these subterranean cemeteries at a much later period. The practice of subterranean burial among the early Christians was evidently derived from the Jewish custom of burying the dead in excavated sepulchres, and thus may have been adopted by the early Jewish converts. The Roman Jews had a very early catacomb of their own, in the Monte Verde, contiguous to their place of abode, in the Trasteverine quarter of Rome. This subterranean mode of sepulture is undoubtedly of Egyptian origin. It is generally supposed that the early Christians used for their burial places the excavations made by the Romans for procuring stone and cement [886]for building purposes. This is an erroneous view. Recent geological observations on the soil of the Agro Romano have shown that the surface of the Campagna consists of volcanic rocks of different natures and ages. The earliest of the series, the tufa lithoide, was constantly employed from the earliest ages in the buildings of the city, as attested by the massive blocks of the Cloaca Maxima, the tabularium of the Capitol, and the walls of Romulus; the second, or tufa granolare, which though it has just consistency enough to retain the form given to it by the excavator, can not be hewn or extracted in blocks; and the pozzolana, which has been extensively used in all ages for mortar or Roman cement. The tufa lithoide and the pozzolana were thus alone used for building purposes by the Romans, and the catacombs are never found excavated in these. The catacombs were hewn only in the tufa granolare, and were consequently excavated expressly for burials by the early Christians. The Christian architects carefully avoided the massive strata of the tufa lithoide, and we believe it is ascertained that all the known catacombs are driven exclusively along the courses of the tufa granolare. With equal care these subterranean engineers avoided the layers of pozzolana, which would have rendered their work insecure, and in which no permanent rock tomb could have been constructed. Thus we arrive at the curious fact, that in making the catacombs the excavators carefully avoided the strata of hard stone and the strata of soft stone, used respectively for building and for mortar, and selected that course of medium hardness which was best adapted to their peculiar purpose. The early Christian tomb inscriptions are characterized by symbols and formulæ peculiar to the Christian creed; the idea of another life, a life beyond the grave, usually prevails in them.

The symbols found in connection with the funereal inscriptions are of three kinds; the larger proportion of these refer to the profession of Christianity, its doctrines and its graces. A [887]second class, of a partly secular description, only indicate the trades of the deceased, and the remainder represent proper names: thus a lion must be read as a proper name, Leo; an ass, Onager; a dragon, Dracontius. Of the first kind the most usually met with is the monogram of Christ. The other symbols generally in use are the ship, the emblem of the church; the fish, the emblem of Christ, the palm, the symbol of martyrdom. The anchor represented hope in immortality; the dove, peace; the stag reminded the faithful of the pious aspiration of the Psalmist; the horse was the emblem of strength in the faith; the hunted hare, of persecution; the peacock and the phœnix stood for signs of the resurrection. Christ, as the good pastor, was also introduced in the epitaph. Even personages of the Pagan mythology were introduced, which the Christians employed in a concealed sense, as Orpheus, enchanting the wild beasts with the music (see page 701) of his lyre, was the secret symbol of Christ as the civilizer of men leading all nations to the faith. Ulysses, fastened to the mast of his ship, was supposed to present some faint resemblance to the crucifixion.

In classifying the Roman inscriptions, M. de Rossi has adopted the following divisions. The first comprises those inscriptions only which contain some express note of time, and are therefore susceptible of exact chronological arrangement. The second comprises the select inscriptions, viz.: first, sacred and historical ones, and next those which, either by testimony, by forms, or by symbols, illustrate the doctrines, the worship, or the morals of the Christians. The third, the purely topographical, assigns each inscription its proper place among the ancient localities of Rome. This comprises also inscriptions of unknown or uncertain locality, as well as inscriptions of spurious origin or doubtful authenticity.

In considering the chronological arrangements of Christian inscriptions, it is important to keep in view that in the earlier [888]centuries the Christians kept note of time either by the years of the bishop, or by some of the civil forms which prevailed in the various countries in which they resided. In Rome the common date was that of the consular year. The common use of the Christian era as a note of time began, as is well known, later than the sixth century, at which M. de Rossi's series terminates. In M. de Rossi's collection one inscription bears date from the year A.D. 107, and another from 111. Of the period from the year 204, in which the next inscription with a date occurs, till the peace of the church in 312, twenty-eight dated inscriptions have been found; after the peace of the church the number of dated inscriptions increases rapidly. Between the accession of Constantine and the close of the fourth century, his collection contains 450 dated inscriptions, and the fifth century presents about the same number; but in the sixth, the number again declines, that century producing little more than 200.

In those cases where no note of time is marked, M. de Rossi has availed himself of other chronological indications and tests, founded on the language, on the style, on the names, and on the material execution of the inscription, in determining the date. Out of the 11,000 extant Roman inscriptions anterior to the seventh century, M. de Rossi finds chronological evidence of the date of no fewer than 1374.

There are also varieties in inflection, such as "spiritu sancta" for "spiritu sancto," "pauperorum," for "pauperum," "vocitus" for "vocatus," "requiescent" for "requiescunt," etc.

There are also new or unusual terms, or new familiar words in new or unusual meanings, such as "pausavit, rested, bisomus, trisomus, quadrisomus," holding two, three, four bodies; compar and conpar (husband and wife); fecit for egit, passed; "percepit," received, scil. baptism, as also "consecutus est," in the same sense, etc.

Sometimes Latin is written in Greek characters and sometimes Greek in Latin.

[889]The age is expressed by "vixit," or "vixit in sæculo," "annos" (or "annis") "menses," "dies" (or "diebus") ——, with the number of hours sometimes stated. Sometimes "qui fuit" stands for "vixit;" sometimes neither is expressed, and we have the form in the genitive, "sal. annorum," etc.

Frequently the time passed in married life is mentioned, and we find such phrases as "vixit mecum, duravit mecum, vixit in conjugio, fecit mecum, fecit in conjugio, fecit cum compare," with a precise statement of the number of years, etc., and often with some expression marking the happiness of the couple's married life.

The epithets applied to the deceased indicate strong affection, and the eulogies are sometimes extravagant.

The occupation or position in life is stated, with the proper titles, in many dated Christian epitaphs. But they are all, it is supposed, later than the time of Constantine.

The same designations of the place of burial and of the tomb are found in both Christian and Pagan epitaphs.

Acclamations or expressions of good wishes or prayers to or for the deceased frequently occur in the inscriptions.

The letters also of these inscriptions are usually very irregular. They are from half an inch to four inches in height, colored in the incision with a pigment resembling Venetian red. The sense, too, of the inscriptions is not always very obvious. An extreme simplicity of language and sentiment is the prevailing characteristic of the earlier inscriptions. But, on the other hand, exaggerated examples of the opposite style are occasionally met with.

Another peculiarity in these Christian inscriptions is the disuse of the three names usually assumed by the Romans. M. de Rossi has given twenty inscriptions with the names complete, prior to Constantine. Of these, no fewer than seventeen have prænomina, whereas after Constantine prænomina may be said entirely to disappear.

[890]The year is usually indicated by the names of the consuls. The abbreviation COS for "consulibus" was in use up to the middle of the third century, when COSS, CONS, and CONSS began to be adopted; COS is very seldom found during the fourth century, and almost never in the fifth or sixth; COSS fell into disuse about the first quarter of the fifth century, and after that CONS was used; in the time of Diocletian with S for one consul and SS for two. At the same time CC. SS. CS were introduced, but they were very rarely used in the fifth, and there is scarcely an example of them in the sixth. From about the middle of the fourth century CONS began to be placed before instead of after the names, and this usage became the prevalent custom in the fifth and sixth.

At the date of the discovery of the Roman catacombs, the whole body of known Christian inscriptions collected from all parts of Italy fell far short of a thousand in number. Of these, too, not a single one was of subterranean origin, and not dated earlier than A.D. 553. At present the Christian inscriptions of Rome on catacombs alone, and anterior to the sixth century, considerably exceed 11,000. They have been carefully removed from the cemeteries, and are now systematically arranged by M. de Rossi, on the walls of the Christian museum, recently formed by order of Pius IX., in the Lateran Palace. A large number of these inscriptions are also inserted in the walls of the Galleria Lapidaria in the Vatican.

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EARLY INSCRIPTIONS.

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CHURCH OF S. SEBASTIAN "IN CATACUMBIS."

I. Inscription of Pope Damasus in Honor of S. Eutychius, the Martyr, in twelve verses (on the left hand on entering the church). These inscriptions are very numerous in the catacombs, and all of this beautiful calligraphy, and usually in Latin verse, not without elegance of style, though the construction of the sentences is sometimes not clear. Damasus restored all the catacombs, after they had been damaged during the persecution under Julian the Apostate.

2. Another Inscription in the same Catacomb Church (over a door on the right-hand side, looking towards the altar).

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PAINTINGS.

If the tombs of the early martyrs, before "the peace of the church," were commonly decorated with paintings at all, which is not probable, it is almost certain that some of those paintings have been renewed at various subsequent periods. The best monuments of the first three centuries are the tomb stones with inscriptions and small simple emblems incised upon them.

It is difficult to decide by the art of drawing only between the end of the third and the beginning of the fourth century. But this art was in the height of perfection in the first century, in the second it was still very good, in the third it had begun to decline, but not so rapidly as to justify the assumption that the very bad drawings in the catacombs belong to that period, with the exception of those already mentioned as not Christian. The drawing of the figures in the mosaic pictures in the vault of S. Constantia, which are of the first half of the fourth century, are decidedly better than any of the Scriptural subjects in the catacombs. The mosaic pictures of the fifth century on the sides of [901]the nave of S. Maria Maggiore, published by Ciampini, are much more like them.

S. Paulinus, bishop of Nola, writing in the fifth century, says that he had painted a catacomb, for the pilgrims, and gives his reasons for doing so. He thought good to enliven the whole temple of S. Felix, in order that these colored representations might arrest the attention of the rustics, and prevent their drinking too much at the feasts. The temple here evidently means the tomb or crypt in which the commemorative feasts were held, and were represented by paintings. His expressions imply that such paintings were not then a received custom.

That the painted vaults in the catacombs were used for feasts on various occasions in the same manner as the painted chambers in the Pagan tombs, is evident from the manner in which several writers of the fourth and fifth centuries mention them; in addition to the letters of Paulinus of Nola and S. Augustine, and the hymns of Prudentius, there is also a remarkable passage in a sermon of Theodoret on the Martyrs (written about A.D. 450):

"Our Lord God leads His own even after death into the temples for your Gods, and renders them vain and empty; but to these [Martyrs] He renders the honors previously paid to them. For your daily food and your sacred and other feasts of Peter, Paul, and Thomas, and Sergius and Marcellinus, and Leontius, and Antoninus, and Mauricius, and other martyrs, the solemnities are performed; and in place of the old base pomp and obscene words and acts, their modest festivities are celebrated, not with drunkenness and obscene and ludicrous exhibitions, but with hearing divine songs and holy sermons, and prayers and praises adorned with tears. When, therefore, you would dilate on the honor of the martyrs, what use is there in sifting them? Fly, my friends, the error of demons, and under their guidance seize upon the road that leads to God, and [902]welcome their presence with holy songs, as the way is to eternal life."

Bosio enumerates six cubicula or family burial-chapels in the cemetery or catacomb of Priscilla, and thirteen arched tombs with paintings. These pictures, of which he gives engravings, were far more perfect in his time than they are now. His engravings are good for the period when they were executed; but it was a time when all drawing was bad, slovenly, and incorrect, so that the general idea only of the picture is all we can expect. The costume and ornaments do not indicate any very early period of art, but rather a time when it had declined considerably. Costume in Rome, as in the East generally, was far more stationary and less subject to changes than in the West, and these may be as early as the fourth or fifth century, but can hardly be earlier. Several of the martyrs buried in the Via Salaria suffered in the tenth persecution under Diocletian, called the great persecution, about the year 300: the decorations of their tombs, therefore, can not be earlier than the fourth century, and many of them have been restored or renewed at subsequent times. John I., A.D. 523, is recorded to have renewed the cemetery of Priscilla, and this probably means that he renewed the paintings in the style of his own time, as the greater part of the paintings now remaining are of the character of that period.

On comparing the costumes of the figures in this catacomb with those in the illuminations of the celebrated manuscript of Terence, usually attributed to the seventh or eighth century, and which can hardly be earlier than the fifth, we see at once that the long flowing robe was the ordinary costume of the period, and that the narrow scarf of black ribbon hanging over the shoulders, with the ends reaching nearly to the ground, was the usual badge of a servant. This seems to have been adopted as part of the costume of a Christian going to pray to God, whether in a church or chapel or any other place, emblematical [903]of the yoke of Christ, as Durandus says. The surplice and stole of the priest of the Anglican Church is a more close copy of this ancient costume than any now worn in the Roman church. The rich cope, cape, or cloak was the dress of the Roman senator and of the Pagan priests; it was probably adopted by the Bishop of Rome when he assumed the title and office of Pontifex Maximus, and after a time the custom was followed by other bishops and priests of his communion.

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GLASS VASES.

A valuable work on the ancient glass vases found in the catacombs was published by F. Buonarotti in Florence, nearly simultaneously with the work of Boldetti on the catacombs, and of Fabretti on the inscriptions found in them. This is the foundation of all the subsequent works on the subject; the figures are badly drawn and engraved, according to the fashion of the period, but many of the later works are not much better. The subjects are generally the same as in the paintings on the walls: the Good Shepherd, more numerous than any other; Adam and Eve, Moses striking the Rock, Noah and the Ark, the raising of Lazarus, Peter and Paul, generally busts—these are very numerous. Both the style of drawing and the character of the inscriptions indicate late dates and frequent copying from the same type. In one are three figures, S. Peter, S. Paul, with S. Laurence seated between them. S. Agnes occurs frequently, always drawn as in the usual type of the eighth century. Other busts are evidently portraits of persons interred. In some are the father, mother and child;—one has the name of Cerontius; another of two busts, Cericia and Sottacus;—another is a family group, father, mother and four children; the name is partly [904]broken off ....N ... BVSVISTRIS. P. Z. remains.—Abraham with a drawn sword in his hand, and Isaac with his eyes bound, kneeling at his feet, with the ram. A tall female figure with the hands uplifted in prayer; the inscription is PETRVS PAVLVS ANE possibly for Agnes. Another similar subject consists of two figures seated facing each other; over the left hand figure the name Cristvs, over the right hand one ISTEFANVS. Several of the subjects are distinctly Pagan; others are evidently from the Jews' catacomb, as two lions guarding the ark, and under them two of the seven-branched candlesticks, with leaves and vases and palm-branch.

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S. CALIXTUS.

This is one of the earliest of the catacombs; it is mentioned at a very early period as a burying-place, then in use, not as being then just made. Michele de Rossi, in the course of his investigations in this catacomb, found a brick staircase and some brick loculi, evidently an alteration of and addition to the original catacombs, and the stamps on these bricks were those of Marcus Aurelius, A.D. 161-180. This staircase is in the lower part of the catacomb, made for the purpose of enlarging it, and seems to show that the ground had been used as a cemetery in the first century. The original part was probably made before there were any Christians to be buried. Although the staircase is later, and the bricks used again, they were probably found on the spot.

Calixtus is said to have been entrusted with the government of the clergy, and set over the cemetery by Zephyrinus his predecessor, before he became bishop or pope. This expression, over the cemetery, seems to prove that the whole of the catacombs [905]were considered as one cemetery, and that he had the general superintendence of the burial of the Christians.

This is the catacomb usually exhibited to strangers and now used for pilgrimages; its present state is very uninteresting to the archæologist. The upper part of it nearest to the entrance has been so much restored that it has lost all archæological importance. This portion of the catacomb is illuminated on certain occasions, and is employed to excite the devotion of the faithful. A low mass is said at an altar fitted up in the cemetery chapel of S. Cæcilia, on the anniversary of her martyrdom, and this part of the catacomb on that occasion is illuminated with candles.

The other parts are in the usual state, stripped of nearly every inscription, and the graves empty. The earliest inscription from this catacomb, of ascertained date, is of A.D. 268 or 279; it is dated by the names of the consuls, which would apply to either of these two dates. One important inscription of Bishop Damasus is preserved, and is valuable in many ways; it shows that the cemetery chapel, in which it was found, was made in his time, and the slab of marble on which it is engraved has a Pagan inscription on the back of it, evidently proving that it was used merely as a slab of marble, without reference to that inscription. It shows for what purpose some of the Pagan inscriptions found in the catacombs may have been brought there. Two small and very curious tombstones, consisting of mosaic pictures said to have been taken from this catacomb, are now preserved in the sacristy of the church of S. Maria in Trastevere. They were for some centuries in the nave, built into one of the piers; but during the restorations made in 1868-76, they were removed and built into the wall of the sacristy. One represents a landscape, with building in the style of the third century, and a harbor or a lake with a vessel, and fishermen dragging in a great net, evidently intended for the miraculous draught of fishes. This is an [906]extremely curious mosaic picture, the probable date of which is the beginning of the fourth century. The other small mosaic represents birds of various kinds, and is much earlier than the view of the harbor, perhaps as early as the first century. Possibly the birds were intended to be symbolical of the souls of the faithful. These are engraved by Ciampini in his work on Mosaics. Some of the original paintings [Bosio gives, on eight plates, engravings of a number of vases and lamps found in this catacomb, several views of cubicula, and upwards of seventy paintings. The same subjects have been repeated by Perret and Signor de Rossi.] remain in the lower part of this catacomb that have not been restored, and these are of the usual subjects: Daniel and the two lions, Moses striking the rock, the raising of Lazarus, etc.

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[907]

THE LAST SUPPER.

S. CALIXTUS.

This painting has more the appearance of being really intended for the Last Supper than most of the paintings of this class. The central figure has a certain dignity about it. Upon the round plates on the table are fishes, and the eight baskets are full of bread. It may be a Christian painting of a bad period, and intended to commemorate some of our Lord's miracles. The principal lines on the edges of the dresses have been renewed. This painting is under an arco-solium in the chapel of the Sacraments, the burial-place of the Bishops of Rome in the third century. All the paintings in that part of this great catacomb that is usually open to the public, and in which masses are said on certain occasions, have long been said by well-informed persons to have been restored within the last twenty years, but this is now denied by the Roman Catholic authorities.

An engraving of this painting is given by Bosio in the sixth arco-solium of this catacomb, p. 523; he calls it Christ and the Apostles. It is also given by Perret in the modern French style, vol. i. p. 28; and by Dr. Northcote in plate xiii., much embellished by color and improved by the skill of modern artists.

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S. PONTIANUS.

The Baptistery, with the Baptism of Christ painted on the wall, over the arch. He is represented standing in the River Jordan up to His waist in water, in which fishes are swimming, and at which a hart is drinking; the Holy Dove is over His head. S. John Baptist is standing on the bank, and pouring water on His head, or perhaps only holding out his hand to [908]touch it. On the opposite side is another figure in a white dress, hiding his face. All the three figures have the nimbus.

AN AGAPE.

An Agape, or love-feast, is a common subject of the paintings in the catacombs, and sometimes seems to be evidently a representation of the family gatherings that were held on the anniversaries in these tombs, in the same manner as they were in the painted tombs in the Via Latina or the Via Appia. These paintings are often supposed to be the Last Supper, and sometimes may be so, but the one before us can hardly be intended for Christ and his Apostles.

CHRIST AND THE CHURCH.

These two figures, one on either side of a small table, on which are two dishes, one with a fish upon it and the other with bread, are supposed to represent our Lord after the Resurrection, and the Christian Church in the form of a woman, with the hands uplifted in the Oriental attitude of prayer, such as is usually called in the catacombs an Orante. This explanation is of course conjectural only, but seems not improbable. The painting is so much damaged that it is difficult to tell to what period it belongs. A part of this great catacomb is as early as the second century. In this passage stravit may mean covering the walls with slabs of porphyry also, as well as the floor. It is evident that in several instances the word platonia is applied by Anastasius to a chapel lined with marble plates for inscriptions, as at S. Sebastian's.

[909]

HEAD OF CHRIST IN AN AUREOLE.—MARY, MOTHER OF
CHRIST, AND MARY MAGDALENE.—ST. MARK,
ST. PAUL AND ST. PETER.

This cemetery or catacomb is on the western side of the Tiber, about half a mile beyond the Porta Portuensis, on the road to Porto, but on the hill above, and on a higher [910]level than the road in what is now a vineyard. The soil in which this catacomb is made is quite different from the others; instead of the granular tufa, or volcanic sand, which is the soil generally used for them near the Via Appia and the Via Ardeatina, this is an alluvial soil formed by the action of water on the bank of the Tiber. Whether from this cause, or from some others that have not been explained, the paintings in this catacomb are far more perfect than those in any other; they are the most celebrated and the most popular, and those that have been more often engraved and published than any others.

The picture of the head of Christ is a very fine one, in an aureole or circular nimbus, with the cross on it, called also a cruciform nimbus. This head has been many times engraved and published, and it is amusing to compare those commonly sold in the shops of Rome with the original as shown in the photograph. These will illustrate the manner in which the clever modern artists have improved upon the originals; it is difficult to understand that they are intended for the same picture.

The figures of the three saints, St. Paul, St. Peter, and St. Mark, are painted on the ceiling, while Mary, the Mother of Christ, and Mary Magdalene are over and on the left side of the head of Christ.

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[911]

TRUTH OF THE BIBLE.ToC

It may seem presumptuous for us to undertake to write upon this subject. "It is to paint the sun with charcoal," for the most scholastic divine to give his reflections on the Word of God. With the most devout feeling of the infinite value of such an article or the great evil which might result from the complexity of its appearance, we have concluded that nothing but the most reverential feeling of the sacredness of the subject can secure us from falling into dangers not to be lightly regarded, not merely in regard to facts, but in respect also to comments and reflections; but with this caution such an article may be rendered eminently edifying and interesting.

Why should we conclude this work, in this age of infidelity, without at least stating what was known of the Bible? Why should we not bring the "cloud of witnesses" of the ruins we have already described? The discovery of the Assyrian and Babylonian historic records running contemporaneously with Scripture narratives have afforded innumerable points of proof. From the ruins of Nineveh and the Valley of the Nile; from the slabs and bas-reliefs of Sennacherib and the tombs, the catacombs with their 1,100 Christian inscriptions, and the monuments of Pharaoh; from the rolls of Chaldee paraphrasts and Syrian versionists; from the cells and libraries of monastic scribes and the dry and dusty labors of scholars and antiquarians, the [912]skepticism of history has almost been silenced by the vivid reproductions of the ancient and eastern world.

An attentive perusal of the present volume will afford many illustrations of these remarks. Knowing that the substance of the narrative is drawn from sources of indisputable authority, the reader can have no anxiety respecting the truth of the facts recorded. He will, therefore, be able to resign himself altogether to the gracious influence which such a history is calculated to exercise on the mind.

The assistance which the reader will derive from a well-arranged narrative of these sublime events will be found of importance, not only as exciting attention to facts, otherwise less noticed, but as habituating him, in perusing the divine originals, to arrange and classify the several portions of the history for himself. When this ability is acquired, the mind will have a readier command over the materials of reflection, and the several arguments on which the proof of heavenly truth is founded will be seen with greater distinctness, and appreciated with a more practical feeling of their strength and value.

With the assistance of the many scholarly productions on this matter, why should we not at least set the Bible side by side with Homer, Herodotus, Virgil, Horace, and others, which have already taken quite a space in the present work. The Scripture surely contains, independently of a divine origin, more true sublimity, more exquisite beauty, purer morality, more important history, and finer strains both of poetry and eloquence, than could be collected within the same compass from all other books that were ever composed in any age or in any idiom.

The Bible accords in a wonderful manner with universal history. There is nothing more common in history than the recognition of a God. Sacred and profane history alike involve this principle. The fictions of the poets respecting the different ages of the world coincide with Scripture facts. The first, [913]or Golden Age, is described as a paradisiacal state, feebly representing the bliss of the first pair in Eden, Gen. ii. And the second, or Iron Age, described in the fiction of Pandora and her fatal box of evils, which overspread the earth, is in accordance with the history of the introduction of evil into the world, Gen. iii. The celebrated Vossius shows, with great ingenuity, the similitude there is between the history of Moses and the fable of Bacchus. The cosmogony of the ancient Phœnicians is evidently similar to the account of creation given by Moses, and a like assertion may be made respecting the ancient Greek philosophy. Travel north, south, east and west, and you find the period employed in creation used as a measure of time, though no natural changes point it out as a measure, as is the case with the month and year. Consult the heathen classics, the records of our Scythian ancestors, the superstitions of Egypt, of the Indies, both East and West, and, indeed, of all the varied forms in which superstition has presented herself, and in one or in all you meet with evidences of a universal flood, of man's fall, of the serpent having been the instrument in it, of propitiatory sacrifices, of the expectation of a great deliverer. The long lives of men in the early ages of the world are mentioned by Berosus, Manetho, Hiromus and Helanicus, as also by Hesoid and many other writers quoted by Josephus, and afterwards by Servius, in his notes on Virgil. Pausanius, Philostratus, Pliny and several other writers give us accounts of the remains of gigantic bodies which have been found in the earth, serving in some degree to confirm Moses' account of the antediluvian giants. Berosus, the Chaldean historian, quoted by Josephus, and Abidenus by Eusebius, Plutarch, Lucian, Molo, Nicholas Damascenus, as well as many of the heathen poets, mention the deluge; and some traditions respecting it are to be found among the Americans and Chinese; not to mention what some modern travelers have fabulously related concerning some ruins of the [914]ark, said to remain on Mount Ararat, and to have been seen there a few centuries ago. Alexander Polyphistor quotes Artapanus and Eupolemus, as mentioning the Tower of Babel; and the former speaks of it as built by Belus. Strabo, Tacitus, Pliny, etc., give us an account of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and the neighboring cities, in the main agreeable to that of Moses. Herodotus, Diodorus, Strabo, etc., mention circumcision as a rite used by several of those nations into which, according to Moses, Abraham traveled, or which were descended from him. Berosus, and several others, make express and honorable mention of Abraham and some of his family. Eupolemus and Dius, as quoted by Eusebius and Grotius, mention many remarkable circumstances of David and Solomon, agreeing with the Old Testament story. As for the mention of Nebuchadnezzar, and some of the succeeding kings of Babylon, as well as of Cyrus and his successors, it is so common in ancient writers, as not to need a more particular notice of it. And very many passages of the Old Testament are mentioned by Celsus, and objections to Christianity formed upon them. Is not all this in favor of the credibility of the Old Testament? And with respect to the New Testament, we have the testimony of Tacitus and Suetonius to the existence of Jesus Christ, the Founder of the Christian religion, and to His crucifixion in the reign of Tiberius, and during the procuratorship of Pontius Pilate, the time in which the evangelists place that event. Porphyry, also, though an inveterate enemy to Christianity, not only allowed that there was such a person as Christ, but honored Him as a most wise and pious man, translated into heaven as being approved by the gods; and accordingly quotes some oracles, referring both to His sufferings and virtues, with their subsequent rewards. Celsus, likewise, an Epicurean philosopher, full of enmity to the Christian religion, mentions numberless circumstances in the history of Christ, indeed so many, that an [915]abstract of the Christian history might almost be taken from the very fragments of his book preserved by Origen, and never pretends to dispute His real existence, or the truth of the facts recorded of Him. Hierocles, a man of learning and a magistrate, who wrote against the Christians, speaks of Jesus as extolled by the Christians as a god; mentions Peter and Paul by name; and refers both to the Gospels and to the Epistles. The Emperor Julian, in the fourth century, called "Apostate," writes of the birth of Jesus in the reign of Augustus; bears witness to the genuineness and authenticity of the Gospels, and the Acts of the Apostles; and allows that Jesus Christ wrought miracles. He aimed to overthrow the Christian religion, but has confirmed it. The slaughter of the infants at Bethlehem is attested by Macrobius; the darkness at the crucifixion is recorded by Phlegon, and quoted by Origen. The manners and worship of the primitive Christians are distinctly named by Pliny. The great dearth throughout the Roman world, foretold by Agabus, in the reign of Claudius (Acts xi. 28), is attested by Suetonius Dion, Josephus, and others. The expulsion of the Jews from Rome by Claudius (Acts xviii. 2) was occasioned, says Suetonius, by the insurrection they had made about Chrestus, which is his way of spelling Christ. It has been repeatedly proved, with laborious research, and profuse erudition, that vestiges of all the principal doctrines of the Christian religion are to be found in the monuments, writings, or mythologies of all nations and ages. And the principal facts contained in the Gospels are confirmed by monuments of great fame subsisting in every Christian country at this very day. For instance, baptism in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, the rite by which from the beginning men have been initiated into the Church of Christ, and the profession of Christianity. The Lord's Supper, celebrated in memory of the dying love of Christ. And the stated observation of the first day of the week, in honor of Christ's [916]resurrection from the dead. Who can say, and prove, that this is not evidential of the truth and credibility of the New Testament? What but inspiration could have produced such internal harmony, and such external accordance?

[917]Of the monuments, none is more striking than the Arch of Titus. This celebrated structure was erected by the Senate and the people of Rome in estimation of the services of Titus in conquering the Jews. It is probable that the monument was completed after the death of Titus. It consists of a single arch of Grecian marble, of exquisite proportions, with fluted columns on each side. The frieze, which gives it special interest and value, is on the right-hand side passing under the arch going towards the Coliseum. It represents the triumphal procession of captive Jews, the silver trumpets, the tables of shew-bread, and the golden candlestick, with its seven branches. The candlestick itself is said to have been thrown into the Tiber from the Milvina Bridge, on the occasion of the battle between Maxentius and Constantine. Should the proposal to turn the course of the Tiber be carried into effect it is not impossible that this precious relic may yet be recovered.

No book was ever produced by chance. Every volume in the world is indebted for its existence to some being or beings. And the Bible, we are assured, could not but have had an intelligent author. But within the range of intelligence there exist only bad beings, good beings, and God. Hence, among these must be found whatever originates in intelligence, for this classification includes all beings that are intelligent. Now that bad beings—wicked men and infernal spirits—could not have originated a book so full of goodness, is a reasonable opinion; for it bears no resemblance to such an origin. It commands all duty, forbids all sin, and pronounces the heaviest penalties against all unholy conduct; and as darkness can not originate light, so neither can evil originate good. Nor would it help the matter to suppose that good beings—pious men and holy angels—were the contrivers of these well-arranged records; for they neither could nor would write a book, ascribing their own inventions to divine inspiration; especially as such forgeries are most severely [918]reprobated in every part of it. As therefore God is the only remaining being within the range of intelligence to whom the Scriptures can be reasonably ascribed, they must, of necessity, have been written by Him. And, indeed, the Bible is a work as much exceeding every effort of mere man as the sun surpasses those scanty illuminations by which his splendor is imitated, or his absence supplied.

We are now conducted, by fair and consecutive reasoning, to our last general proposition, which is this: God was the author of the Bible.

By the Bible we mean, of course, both the Old and New Testaments. "The two Testaments," says one, "may be likened to the double-doors of the Temple—the Old is the New infolded—the New is the Old unfolded." The New Testament distinctly recognizes the Old as a revelation from God; and, referring to the Canon as received by the Jews, declares the books of which it consists genuine and credible. And by God being the author of the Bible we mean that it was "given by inspiration of Him." It may be necessary here to define certain terms which either have been, or may be, hereafter, employed in this essay. And these are:—Scripture; Testament; Inspiration; Gospel; Christianity; and Religion. Scripture, from scriptura, signifies writing—applied by way of eminence to what is written in the Bible. Testament, from testamentum, a deed or will; but according to another rendering the appropriate name of the Bible is, the Old and New Covenants; namely, the Mosaic and the Christian. Inspiration, from spiro, signifies I breathe. "By the divine inspiration of the Holy Scriptures," says an able writer, "I mean, such an immediate and complete discovery, by the Holy Spirit to the minds of the sacred penmen, of these things which could not have been otherwise known, and such an effectual superintendency as to those matters of which they might be informed or by other means, as entirely to preserve them from [919]all error, in every particular which could in the least affect any of the doctrines or commandments contained in their writings." Gospel, from god, good, and spell, a history, a narrative, or message; and which denotes good news, glad tidings, news from God—applied emphatically to the book which contains the recital of our Saviour's life, miracles, death, and so on. Christianity, from christianitas, signifies the religion of Christians. And Religion, from religare, signifies to tie or bind, because by true religion the soul is tied or bound, as it were, to God and His service. These things being premised, we shall be justified in proceeding to establish our proposition; namely, that God was the author of the Bible. And we hold this to be demonstrable.

From its great antiquity. It is acknowledged to be the oldest book in the world. Its records embrace the creation of the world, the origin of man, the introduction of evil, the fall and recovery of our race; and it contains the only rational account ever given of these momentous matters. We can trace the Bible to the time of the Cæsars, beyond that to the translation of the Septuagint, and beyond that we can carry the proof up to the separation of the Jews and Samaritans; we can ascend up to the time when we discover that the law must have been given by a person called Moses to a people in the wilderness, at a time when idolatry was universal, and just as we have the facts recorded in the nineteenth and twentieth chapters of the book of Exodus. And if Moses did not get the law from God, the getting it at all—the having it then as it is—is just as great a miracle as its coming from God Himself; and you may take your choice of the miracles—for the one is as great a miracle as the other. Tatian, one of the Greek fathers, tells us, that "Though Homer was before all poets, philosophers, and historians, and was the most ancient of all profane writers, yet Moses was more ancient than Homer himself." Tertullian, another celebrated writer of the second century, speaks to the same effect. "The Pagans [920]themselves have not denied that the books of Moses were extant many ages before the states and cities of Greece; before their temples and gods; and also before the beginning of Greek letters." He moreover adds, "Moses lived five hundred years before Homer's time; and the other prophets who came a long time after Moses were yet more ancient than any of the wise men, lawgivers, and philosophers of Greece. And as the writings of Homer were a pattern to them, so in like manner he followed the writings of the prophets, as they were then known and spread abroad in the world." And the excellent and learned Sir W. Jones, adverting to the same point, remarked, "The antiquity of these writings no man doubts."

From its uncorrupted preservation. Though it has been hated and held in utter detestation by thousands, yet it has been preserved amidst all the revolutions of time, and handed down from generation to generation, even until now. And that it is in all essential points the same as it came originally from the hands of its authors, we have the most satisfactory evidence that can be required. "With regard to the Old Testament," says the late learned William Greenfield, "the original manuscripts were long preserved among the Jews, who were always remarkable for being most faithful guardians of their sacred books, which they transcribed repeatedly, and compared most carefully with the originals, of which they even numbered the words and letters. That the Jews have neither mutilated nor corrupted these writings is fully proved by the silence of the prophets as well as of Christ and His apostles, who, though they bring many heavy charges against them, never once accuse them of corrupting one of their sacred writings; and also by the agreement, in every essential point, of all the versions and manuscripts, amounting to nearly 1,150, which are now extant, and which furnishes a clear proof of their uncorrupted preservation."

One of the most wonderful and ancient of these is the [921]Pentateuch, as represented in the cut below. Mr. Mills says of it: "The roll itself is of what we would call parchment, but of a material much older than that, written in columns twelve inches deep and seven and a half wide. The writing is in a fair hand [922]but not nearly so large or beautiful as the book copies which I had previously examined. The writing being rather small each column contains from seventy to seventy-two lines. The name of the scribe is written in a kind of acrostic, and forms part of the text, running through three columns and is found in the book of Deuteronomy. It was the work of the great grandson of Aaron, as indicated in the writing. The roll has all the appearance of a very high antiquity, and is wonderfully well preserved, considering its venerable age.

"One of the halves of the metal cylinder is very curious and deserves more attention than it has received at the hands of Biblical archæologists. It is of silver, about two feet and six inches long, by ten or twelve inches in diameter, and is covered with embossed work with a descriptive legend attached to each portion. It proves to be the Tabernacle of the Wilderness.

"In fact, the constant reading of the sacred books, which were at once the rule of their faith and of their political constitution, in public and private; the numerous copies of the original as well as of the Septuagint version, which was widely spread over the world; the various sects and parties into which the Jews were divided after their canon was closed, as well as their dispersion into every part of the globe, concurred to render any attempt at fabrication impossible before the time of Christ, and after that period, the same books being in the hands of the Christians, they would instantly have detected the fraud of the Jews if they had endeavored to accomplish such a design, while the silence of the Jews, who would not have failed to notice the attempt if it had been made, is a clear proof that they were not corrupted by the Christians.

"Equally satisfactory is the evidence for the integrity and incorruptness of the New Testament. The multiplication of copies, both of the original and of translations into a variety of languages, which were read, not only in private, but publicly in [923]the religious assemblies of the early Christians; the reverence of the Christians for these writings; the variety of sects and heresies which soon arose in the Christian Church, each of whom appealed to the Scriptures for the truth of their doctrines, rendered any material alteration in the sacred books utterly impossible; while the silence of their acutest enemies, who would most assuredly have charged them with the attempt if it had been made, and the agreement of all the manuscripts and versions extant, are positive proofs of the integrity and incorruptness of the New Testament; which are further attested by the agreement with it of all the quotations which occur in the writings of the Christians from the earliest age to the present time. In fact, so far from there having been any gross adulteration in the Sacred Volumes, the best and most able critics have proved that, even in lesser matters, the Holy Scriptures of the New Testament have suffered less from the injuries of time and the errors of transcribers than any other ancient writings whatever; and that the very worst manuscript extant would not pervert one article of our faith, nor destroy one moral precept."

Add to this the testimony of the British Critic. "Not one syllable penned by eight obscure authors of the Scriptures of the New Testament, received by the Church as canonical at the death of John, has been lost in the course of eighteen centuries. Yet of the historical works of Tacitus half at least are wanting; out of the one hundred and forty-four books of Livy only thirty-five exist; the collections of Atticus have entirely perished; the orations of Hortensius are known only through the allusions of his rival; and the literary fame of the great dictator survives but in two narratives, one of which has sometimes been doubted. 'Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this world?' May it not be the power of God which, amidst this wreck of eloquence and learning, has preserved unmutilated, even to these later days, the simple and unstudied [924]compositions of the illiterate Galileans—the impassioned but rugged addresses of the tent-maker of Cilicia?" Dr. Adam Clarke, no mean judge, pronounced by the late Rev. Robert Hall to have been "an ocean of learning," said, "I have diligently examined the question, and I can conscientiously say that we have the Sacred Oracles, at least in essential sum and substance, as they were delivered by God to Moses and the prophets; and to the Church of Christ by Jesus, His evangelists and apostles; and that nothing in the various readings of the Hebrew and Greek manuscripts can be found to strengthen any error in doctrine or obliquity in moral practice. All is safe and sound—all is pure and holy." And the judicious Selden, whom Grotius calls "the glory of the English nation," in his "Table Talk," speaking of the Bible, says, "The English translation of the Bible is the best translation in the world, and renders the sense of the original best; taking in for the English translation the Bishop's Bible as well as King James'. The translators in King James' time took an excellent way. That part of the Bible was given to him who was most excellent in such a tongue, and then they met together, and one read the translation, the others holding in their hands some Bible, either of the learned tongues, or French, Spanish, or Italian, etc. If they found any fault they spoke, if not he read on."[24]

From its important discoveries. It makes discoveries to man on the most momentous subjects, which natural reason never could have made. One of the ancients said, "The Bible is the history of God." It reveals all that is needful to be known of the existence, nature, perfections, relations, mind and will of God. It discloses the whole history of man—opening with his creation, continuing with his present state, and closing with his eternal destiny. It lays open the amazing love of God to man, the plan of redemption, the means of salvation and the cleansing [925]nature of the blood of Christ. It furnishes answers to the most interesting and perplexing questions ever suggested to man by himself, or propounded to him by his fellow-beings; and thus supplies him with that information which no other volume can impart. It points a second life, unveils eternity, and speaks of the resurrection of the body—the immortality of the soul—a judgment to come—a heaven, the gift of redeeming love—and a hell, the dire desert of sin. In one word, it is God's heart opened to man—a map of heaven—an infallible rule of life—an immovable ground of hope—an everlasting spring of consolation—and the only sure guide to eternal life and happiness. A fine old writer beautifully remarks, "What is there not in the holy Scriptures? Are we poor? There is a treasury of riches. Are we sick? There is a shop of soul-medicines. Are we fainting? There is a cabinet of cordials. Are we Christless? There is the star that leads to Christ. Are we Christians? There are the bands that keep in Christ. Are we afflicted? There is our solace. Are we persecuted? There is our protection. Are we deserted? There is our recovery. Are we tempted? There are our sword and victory. Are we young? There is our beauty. Are we old? There is our wisdom. While we live, here is the rule of our conversation; when we die, here is the hope of our glorification. So that I may say with Tertullian, 'I adore the fullness of the Scripture.' Oh blessed Scriptures! Who can know them and not love them? Who can love them and not delight to meditate in them night and day? Who can meditate in them and not desire to love them, love to desire them, and both desire and love to understand them? This is the Book of books, as David said of Goliah's sword, 'There's none like that.'" The Bible is, indeed, what that great philosopher, the Honorable Robert Boyle, called it, "that matchless book." We have often thought that the sublime descriptions which it gives of God, the humbling and exalting doctrines which it [926]reveals, and the high-toned morality which it inculcates, are of themselves proofs decisive of its divine authority. For, certainly, there is nothing like them in the most admired productions of the most celebrated authors, either in ancient or modern times.

From its peculiar style. How remarkably simple and plain! No histories were ever so plainly related as those of the Bible: no precepts were ever so clear, or promises less ambiguous. How wonderfully grand and sublime! Whenever the matter requires it, the style is

Witness many of the Psalms; the book of Job; the prophets, especially, Isaiah xl. and xliii.; and the Apocalypse. And how astonishingly concise and expressive! The sacred writers never burden their subject with a load of words. They express themselves in words few, and well-chosen—"in comely dress, without the paint of art." Witness the Proverbs; 1 Cor. xiii., etc. "Let there be light," is noticed by the great critic Longinus, as a truly lofty expression. And the style of Scripture has awakened the attention even of infidels. Rousseau was struck with the majesty of the Scriptures. His eloquent eulogium on the Gospel and its author is well known. Dr. Tillotson observes "The descriptions which Virgil makes of the Elysian Fields and the Infernal Regions fall infinitely short of the majesty of the holy Scriptures when describing heaven and hell, so that in comparison they are childish and trifling;" and yet, perhaps, he had the most regular and best governed imagination of any man, and observed the greatest decorum in his descriptions. "There are I know," said the elegant Joseph Addison, "men of heavy temper and without genius, who can read the words of Scripture with as much indifference as they do other papers; however, I will not despair to bring men of wit into a love and admiration [927]of the sacred writings, and, old as I am, I promise myself to see the day when it shall be as much the fashion among men of politeness, to admire a rapture of St. Paul's, as a fine expression of Virgil or Homer; and to see a well-dressed young man produce an evangelist out of his pocket, and be no more out of countenance than if it were a classic printed by Elzevir."

From its internal harmony. Though written at different periods, by persons residing in different parts of the earth, and by persons whose natural abilities, education, habits, employments, etc., were exceedingly varied, yet where is there any real contradiction? The sacred writers exactly coincide in the exhibition they give us of God; of man; of sin and salvation; of this world and the next; and, in short, of all things connected with our duty, safety, interest, and comfort. They all were evidently of the same judgment, aimed to establish the same principles, and applied them to the same practical purposes. They could not write by concert—comparing notes, etc., for they lived in different times and places; and yet the exact coincidence that is perceived among them, by the diligent student, is most astonishing, and can not be accounted for on any rational principles without admitting that they "wrote as they were moved by the Holy Ghost."

From its striking impartiality. The amanuenses or penmen of the Holy Ghost for the Scriptures were not contemptible or ordinary, but incomparable and extraordinary persons. As Moses, "the meekest man on earth," the peculiar favorite of God, with whom God "talked face to face;" the None-such of [928]all the prophets in Israel. Samuel, the mighty man in prayer. David the King, "that man after God's own heart." King Solomon, that "wisest of all the Kings," whom God honored with the building of the Temple. Daniel, in whom was found "an excellent spirit," and great dexterity in "expounding secrets and mysteries." John, "the disciple whom Jesus loved" above all the rest, who "leaned on Jesus' breast." Paul, "who was caught up into the third heavens," "whose writings," saith Chrysostom, "like a wall of adamant, compass about, or surround all the churches." In a word, "all of them holy men of God, moved by the Holy Ghost." The moral character of the sacred penmen is above suspicion: their greatest enemies have never attempted to throw the least stain upon their characters. Many of them were actually present at the scenes which they describe; eye-witnesses of the facts, and ear-witnesses of the discourses which they describe. They could not, therefore, be deceived themselves: nor could they have the least inducement to deceive others. They honestly record their own mistakes and faults, as well as the other particulars of the story. Every candid person must admit that the Scriptures are remarkable for faithfulness of narrative, and that, contrary to the practice of other histories, they do not conceal the faults of the persons they describe. The faults of Abraham and Jacob are detailed, as well as their virtues; and the incredulity of Thomas, and the defection of Peter, are not concealed, but faithfully recorded. The apostles, especially, seem everywhere to forget that they are writing of themselves, and appear not at all solicitous about their own reputation, but only that they might represent facts just as they were, whatever might be the consequences. Hence they readily confess, not only the meanness of their original employments, and the scandals of their former life, but their prejudices, follies, faults, unbelief, cowardice, ambition, rash zeal, foolish contentions, etc. How faithful is the pen of inspiration—here truth [929]with impartial hand dips her pencil, now in brighter, now in darker colors, and thus draws her characters to the very life. Dr. Beattie justly says, "The style of the Gospel bears intrinsic evidence of its truth. We find there no appearance of artifice or party spirit; no attempt to exaggerate on the one hand, or depreciate on the other; no remarks thrown in to anticipate objections, nothing of that caution which never fails to distinguish the testimony of those who are conscious of imposture; no endeavor to reconcile the reader's mind to what may be extraordinary in the narrative; all is fair, candid, and simple." And we number this among the proofs of the Divine authority of the Bible.

From its stupendous miracles. Miracle, from miraculum, a wonder, a prodigy. "A miracle," says Horne, "is a sensible suspension or controlment of, or deviation from, the known laws of nature." It is a signal act of Divine Omnipotence, that which no other being but God can do. Miracles flow from Divine power, and are the proper evidence of a Divine mission. The reality of the miracles recorded in Scripture, wrought by Christ, and by prophets and apostles, may be proved by the number and variety—their being performed publicly, and not in a corner—before enemies as well as before friends—instantaneously, and not by degrees—and independent of all second causes—were such as all men could examine and judge of—and all served an important end, worthy of a Divine author: viz., to establish Divine truth. How superior the miracles wrought by Moses and Aaron to those wrought by the wise men and the sorcerers and the magicians of Egypt! Witness the transformation of the rod, Exodus vii. 10-12—the production of the annoying vermin lice—Exodus viii. 16-19—the plague of darkness, Exodus x. 22-24—the dividing of the Red Sea, Exodus xiv. 21-31. These bear all the characters of true miracles. And how far above the pretended supernatural doings of Mohammed, and the alleged [930]Pagan and Romish miracles, were the wonderful deeds of Christ and His apostles! For example, our Saviour stilled the tempest, calmed the ruffled ocean, walked upon the sea, fed the famished multitude, opened the eyes of the blind, unstopped the ears of the deaf, healed the sick, cleansed the lepers, cast out devils, raised the dead, and restored Himself to life; and His apostles healed the lame, cast out a spirit of divination, gave the Holy Ghost, restored the dead to life, etc. Every ingenuous mind must see in these all the characters of real miracles. Ponder Matt. xi. 2-6; and John xiv. 11. Nicodemus, a Pharisee and ruler among the Jews, was so struck with the extraordinary character of our Lord's miracles that he came to Him, saying, "Rabbi," excellent master, "we know that Thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that Thou doest, except God be with Him." And miracles we think, with Nicodemus, show that a prophet or religious teacher comes from God, because God would not work a miracle in attestation of a falsehood, or to encourage a false teacher. When, therefore, a miracle is wrought in confirmation of anything, or as evidence of anything, we know that the thing is true, because God has given to it His testimony. Every real miracle is a work of God, done by His permission, and with His concurrence; it is therefore, emphatically, the testimony of God. And that greatest of miracles, the resurrection of our Lord Himself from the dead, crowns the whole, and clearly attests the Divinity of the Bible, and the truth of the Christian religion.

From its wonderful prophecies. Prophecy is a declaration of something to come; a prediction of future events. It is the foretelling of such future things as were beyond the reach of human sagacity, and which, therefore, none but God could reveal. What mere man can foretell the events of to-morrow? Who can say what shall transpire in ages to come? This is the sole prerogative of God, who alone knows the end from the [931]beginning. Now the Bible abounds with predictions which were uttered long before their actual fulfillment, and which no human sagacity or foresight could possibly conjecture or foretell. Take the first gospel promise given—the seed of the woman to bruise the serpent's head; and remember that this promise was delivered at least four thousand years before its fulfillment. The celebrated prediction of Jacob (Gen. xlix. 10) was uttered between sixteen and seventeen hundred years before it took place. Moses declared the siege of Jerusalem by the Romans, etc. (Deut. xxviii. 49, etc.), fifteen centuries previously. In the first book of Kings (chap. xiii. 2, 3) there is a prophecy concerning Josiah by name, three hundred and thirty-one years; and in Isaiah (xlv. 1) concerning Cyrus, one hundred years, before either of them were born. According to the predictions of the prophets Nineveh has been desolated (Nahum i. 1, 2, 3); Babylon swept with the bosom of destruction (Isaiah xiii. 14); Tyre become a place for the spreading of nets (Ezekiel xxvi. 4, 5); Egypt the basest of the kingdoms, etc. (Ezekiel xxix. 14, 15). Daniel distinctly predicted the overthrow, in succession, of the four great empires of antiquity—the Babylonian, the Persian, the Grecian and the Roman, all of which has taken place. Not only are the leading features of the character of Christ delineated with the faithfulness of history hundreds of years before He appeared, but there is scarcely an incident in His life which prophecy has overlooked. And according to the predictions of the New Testament we see Jerusalem in ruins; the Temple not rebuilt; the Jews scattered, but not destroyed; the conversion of the nations to Christianity; the many anti-christian corruptions of the Gospel; the idolatry, tyranny and persecution of the Roman hierarchy, etc. What prescience does all this imply—prescience no where to be found but in God! "Let now the infidel or the skeptical reader meditate thoroughly and soberly on these predictions. The priority of the records to [932]the events admits of no question. The completion is obvious to every competent enquirer. Here, then, are facts. We are called upon to account for those facts on rational and adequate principles. Is human foresight equal to the task? Enthusiasm? Conjecture? Chance? Political contrivance? If none of these, neither any other principle that may be devised by man's sagacity, can account for the facts; then true philosophy, as well as true religion, will ascribe them to the inspiration of the Almighty. Every effect must have a cause." Prophecy is a species of perpetual miracle. And the prophecies of Scripture do not come short of the fullest demonstration which the case will admit of, that the books that contain them are the unerring word of God.

From its holy tendency. It came immediately from God, and leads immediately to Him. It bears on it the stamp and impression of Deity; and is, emphatically and really, "the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth." It contains the most excellent precepts—the most weighty exhortations—and the most precious promises. The Bible teaches us the best way of living; the noblest way of suffering; and the most comfortable way of dying. The word of God, accompanied by His Spirit, conveys strength to the weak, wisdom to the simple, comfort to the sorrowful, light to those who are in darkness, and life to the dead. It introduces the infinite God as speaking in a manner worthy of Himself; with simplicity, majesty and authority.

It places before us the most important doctrines. For example, the doctrine of the Trinity of persons or substances in the Unity of the Godhead—the proper, supreme, and eternal divinity of Christ—the personality, divinity, and offices of the Holy Spirit—the great works of creation and providence—the fall of man from the mortal image of God—the necessity, nature, and extent of redemption—repentance toward God, and faith toward the Lord Jesus Christ—justification through the blood of [933]the cross—the witness of the Spirit in the soul of believers—regeneration by the Spirit of God—holiness in heart and life—the resurrection of the dead—the general judgment—and the eternity of future rewards and punishments.

It inculcates the highest morality. The love of God, and the love of our neighbor—the doing to others as we would they should do to us—the forgiving of our enemies—the living "soberly"—in the use of food, apparel, and all things relating to ourselves, "righteously"—in the performance of all duties towards our neighbors, and "godly"—worshiping God in a right manner—the checking of all impurity of thought and desire—the rendering of honor to whom honor, and tribute to whom tribute, is due—the cultivation of humility, meekness, gentleness, placability, disinterestedness, truth, justice, beneficence, charity, and other virtues—and the avoidance of pride, discontent, despair, revenge, cruelty, oppression, contention, adultery, suicide, and other vices and crimes which injure mankind.

It preserves from all error. It is an infallible rule of judgment and of practice, and clearly teaches what we ought to believe and what we ought to do—it enlightens the mind, informs the judgment, instructs the heart, and saves from those "faults in the life," which "breed errors in the brain." All error—false judgment of things, or assent unto falsehood—springs from ignorance of the Scriptures, Mark xii. 24; John vii. 17; 2 Tim. iii. 13-17.

It promotes holiness and peace here, as well as leads to happiness and heaven hereafter. "Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way?" Psalm cxix. 9, 103-105. "The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul," Psalm xix. 7-11. What an eulogy is this on the perfection of the sacred writings! the perfection of their utility—their certainty—their purity—their value—their comforts—their peace—and their sweetness. And this eulogy was pronounced by a prophet, a poet, and a king—no common assemblage.

[934]It secures to the lover of it, in a rich degree, the Divine favor. "Thus saith the Lord, the heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool; but to this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word." "Such a heart," says Matthew Henry, "is a living temple of God; He dwells there, and it is the place of His rest; it is like heaven and earth, His throne and His footstool."

And it furnishes the most powerful motives to the practice of its precepts. For its rewards are such as "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard;" and its threats are eminently calculated to terrify offenders. The Bible everywhere abounds with an intenseness of zeal for the Divine glory, and with a depth of self-renunciation on the part of the writers. And what a contrast does it, in this respect, exhibit to all other productions of authorship! In Scripture, God is all in all: in other writings, man is always a prominent, and generally the sole claimant of praise and admiration. And no man can attentively peruse the sacred volume without being awe-struck. For O how solemn and inspiring! and how admirably calculated to restrain from sin, and to sublimate the views and feelings! We say, therefore, that no man can diligently read the Scriptures without becoming a wiser and better man. The celebrated John Locke, whose pure philosophy taught him to adore its source, said, with his dying lips, when tendering his advice to a young nobleman, "Study the Holy Scriptures, especially the New Testament; for therein are contained the words of eternal life: it hath God for its author—salvation for its end—and truth, without any mixture of error, for its matter."

It does more—

[935]

"Tis for our light and guidance given." And O what a source of light, and strength and peace! How it clears the understanding, and fills the soul with sweet delight! How it quickens our inactive powers, and sets all our wandering [936]footsteps right! And how its promises rejoice our hearts, and its precepts direct our lives!

Ah! there are no words comparable to the Scriptures. None containing doctrines so useful—commands so reasonable—arguments so powerful. The lines of Scripture are richer than the mines of gold. How evidently suited to a sinful, sinning race! and how delightfully framed for the perfection of human happiness! What proofs of a Divine original! Show, if you can, in all this world, any one book of all that ever was produced in any age or nation, like the Bible. Ay, the Bible came from God; and it bears a moral resemblance to Him from whom it came. God is holy, just, and good; and the Bible is also holy in its nature, just in its requirements, and good in its provisions and tendency.

From its beneficial effects. It has wrought wonders in all ages, in all places, on all persons, and in all possible varieties of human life. Christianity—the religion of the Bible—has taught the great lessons of devotion, self-government, and benevolence. It has diffused and preserved literature—abated illiberal prejudices—produced humility, forgiveness of injuries, regard to truth, justice, and honesty, firmness under persecution, [937]patience under worldly afflictions, and calmness and resignation at the approach of death—discouraged fornication, polygamy, adultery, divorces, suicide, and duels—checked infanticide, cruel sports, the violence of war, the vices of Kings and the assaults of princes—and rendered its sincere professors true, honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report. It has improved the condition of females—reclaimed dissolute men—abolished human sacrifices—prevented assassinations of princes, and revolutions in states—encouraged hospitality to strangers—founded charitable institutions—emancipated slaves—abated the rigors of servitude—redeemed captives—relieved prisoners—protected widows and orphans—softened into tenderness and tears the hearts of despots—and given stability to thrones, wisdom to human laws, and protection to the people. Has it not done more for the honor of the prince and the weal of the subject than any other system?

It has been a blessing to every country into which it has been introduced. It has been a blessing to Britain. It has enwrapped in graceful robes the once naked inhabitants of this great country: it has built cities, cultivated forests, reared our temples, regulated our institutions, and rendered the country both powerful and happy. America has found in it her freedom and her peace. The wrongs of Africa have been mitigated and removed by its justice and generosity. Asia, and the isles of the sea, are waiting for its light and healing. In every Pagan country where it has prevailed, it has abolished idolatry, with its sanguinary and polluted rites; raised the standard of morality, and thus improved the manners of the people; and diffused far and wide the choicest blessings of heaven—freedom to the captive, light to the blind, comfort to the distressed, hope to the despairing, and life to the dying. Ask the people of New Zealand, of Taheita, of Tonga, cannibals, infanticides, murderers of whole islands, what it has done for the salvation of their souls. It is at once the desire of all nations, and the glory of all lands.

[938]And it has produced the most happy effects on multitudes of men. It has enlightened the most ignorant; softened the most hardened; reclaimed the most profligate; converted the most estranged; purified the most polluted; exalted the most degraded; and plucked the most endangered from hell to heaven. What was it that transformed the persecuting and blaspheming Saul into a kind and devoted man? It was religion. What was it which brought the woman who was a sinner to bathe the feet of Jesus with her tears, and to wipe them with the hairs of her head? It was religion. What was it which produced the faith of Abraham, the meekness of Moses, the patience of Job, the wisdom of Solomon, the placability of Joseph, the penitence and zeal of David, the gentleness of Stephen, the boldness of the prophets, the undaunted zeal of Paul, the heroism of Peter, and the sweet temper of "the beloved disciple?" It was religion. What was it which produced such purity of life, and gave such majesty in death, in the cases of Grotius, Selden, Salmasius, Hale, Paschal, Boyle, Locke, Newton, Boerhave, Addison, Maclaurin, Lyttleton, and a thousand others? It was religion.

Even men who labored to erase out of the mind all respect for religion have acknowledged the importance and expediency of it. Bayle admits religion to be useful if men acted agreeably to its principles; and Voltaire says, expressly, that religion is necessary in every fixed community; the laws are a curb upon open crimes, and religion on those that are private. "No religion," says Bolingbroke, "ever appeared in the world whose natural tendency was so much directed to promote the peace and happiness of mankind as the Christian. The system of religion recorded by the evangelists is a complete system to all the purposes of true religion, natural or revealed. The Gospel of Christ is one continued lesson of the strictest morality, justice, benevolence, and universal charity.... Supposing Christianity to have been purely an human invention, it had been the [939]most amiable, and the most useful invention that was ever imposed on mankind for their good." Hume acknowledges, that, "the disbelief in futurity loosens, in a great measure, the ties of morality, and may be supposed, for that reason, pernicious to the peace of civil society." Rousseau acknowledges, that, "if all were perfect Christians, individuals would do their duty, the people would be obedient to the laws, the chiefs just, the magistrates incorrupt, the soldiers would despise death, and there would be neither vanity nor luxury in such a state." Gibbon admits, that the gospel, or the church, discouraged suicide, advanced erudition, checked oppression, promoted the manumission of slaves, and softened the ferocity of barbarous nations; that fierce nations received at the same time the lessons of faith and humanity, and that, in the most corrupt state of Christianity, the barbarians might learn justice from the law, and mercy from the gospel. "To impute crimes to Christianity," says the celebrated King of Prussia, "is the act of a novice." His word may fairly be taken for such an assertion. And yet these unbelievers have been so vile and perverse as to decry a system which they acknowledge to be useful. How ungrateful! How reprehensible! Collect now the thoughts scattered under this branch of the subject, and be honest—heartily believe, and openly acknowledge, that God was the author of the Bible. What but a superhuman, a truly divine influence breathing in the Scriptures, can account for the energy and beneficence of their moral tendencies?

From its general reception. Vast numbers of wise and good men, through many generations and in different countries, have agreed in receiving the Bible as a revelation from God. Many of them have been noted for seriousness, erudition, penetration, and impartiality in judging of men and things. We might refer to Alfred, "replete with soul—the light of a benighted age"—to Charles V., Emperor of Germany—to Gustavus Adolphus, the renowned King of Sweden; to Selden, the [940]learned and laborious lawyer and antiquary—to Bacon, "the bright morning star of science"—to Usher, the well-known archbishop of Armagh—to Newton, "the sun whose beams have irradiated the world"—to Boyle, celebrated for genius and erudition—to Milton, the prince of poets—to Locke, the man of profound thought—to Jones, one of the brightest geniuses and most distinguished scholars of the eighteenth century—and to many other deathless names. And if the evidence of the truth of the Bible satisfied men of such high intellectual capacity, ought it not to satisfy us? We do not wish to insinuate that we ought to believe in the Divinity of the Scriptures merely because they believed it. But we do mean to say that we ought not rashly to conclude against that which they received. They are acknowledged authorities in other cases; then why not in this? If we can place reliance upon them in their philosophical inquiries, why not in their religious ones? Surely the infidels of the present day, so far inferior to the believers of the former days, ought to express themselves with more modesty upon this important subject, and to hesitate before they openly profess their opposition to that book of religion and morals which has received the countenance of such honorable names as those which have been mentioned.

On the subject of the propagation of Christianity it has been eloquently said: "In spite of violent and accumulated opposition it diffused its blessings among the cities of Asia and the islands of Greece; over the deserts of Arabia and the European continent! From the hill of Calvary it speedily found its way to imperial Rome, gathering fresh laurels as it progressed, until it entered the palace and waved its banner over the proud dwelling of Cæsar! With all the influence of priests and kings against it, and all the terrors of the gibbet or the flames, it rapidly overspread the extensive Roman empire and reached Britain, the little isle of the sea. With a power divine it [941]achieved a triumph over mental and moral obliquity, surpassing all that the philosophy of Greece or Rome could boast; and still will it conquer, until the sun in the heavens shall not look down on a single human being destitute of the knowledge of Jesus Christ." And the Rev. Robert Hall, whom to mention is to praise, remarked: "We see Christianity as yet but in its infancy. It has not already reached the great ends it is intended to answer and to which it is constantly advancing. At present it is but a grain of mustard seed and seems to bring forth a tender and weakly crop, but be assured it is of God's own right hand planting, and He will never suffer it to perish. It will soon stretch its branches to the river and its shades to the ends of the earth. The weary will repose themselves under it, the hungry will partake of its fruits, and its leaves will be for the healing of the nations. Those who profess the name of Jesus will delight in contemplating the increase and grandeur of His kingdom. 'He must reign until He hath put all enemies under His feet.' The religion of Jesus is not the religion of one age or of one nation. It is a train of light first put in motion by God, and which will continue to move and to spread till it has filled the whole earth with its glory. Its blessings will descend and its influence will be felt to the latest generations. Uninterrupted in its course, and boundless in its extent, it will not be limited by time or space. The earth is too narrow for the display of its effects and the accomplishment of its purposes. It points forward to an eternity. The great Redeemer will again appear upon the earth as the judge and ruler of it; will send forth His angels and gather His elect from the four winds; will abolish sin and death; will place the righteous forever in the presence of his God, of their God, of his Father, and their father."

[942]Christianity, though not persecuting, has been bitterly persecuted; yet it has triumphed—and triumphed, too, in spite of all its foes. Like Moses' bush, it was unconsumable by fire; and rose up amid the flames and prospered. And like the eagle—the imperial bird of storms—it will continue securely to soar amid every tempest. All attempts to impede its progress will be as powerless and vain as attempts to drive back the flowing tide with the point of a needle. When infidels can grasp the winds in their fists, hush the voice of the thunder by the breath of their mouth, suspend the succession of the seasons by their nod, and extinguish the light of the sun by a veil, then, and not till then, can they arrest the progress of truth or invalidate the verities of the Bible. Unwise and unhappy men! they are but plowing the air—striking with a straw—writing on the surface of the water—and seeking figs where only brambles grow.

And compare not the propagation of Mohammedanism with the propagation of Christianity; for it is useless, if not absurd. Suffice it to say that the former was propagated by fanaticism, falsehood, pandering to the passions, promising a voluptuous paradise, and the frequent use of the sword; but the latter by sanity, truth, restraining the passions, promising a pure and holy heaven, and the use of no other sword but the sword of the Spirit, that is, the word of God. Christianity came—saw—and conquered. And all her victories have been bloodless—of untold advantage to the vanquished themselves. They have desolated no country—produced no tears but to wipe them away—and broken no hearts but to heal them. Now to what is all this to be attributed? Can we reasonably ascribe the general reception of the Bible and the consequent spread of Christianity to anything short of divine power? Is it not unprecedented? "Could any books," says an able writer, "have undergone so fearful and prolonged an ordeal and achieved so spotless and perfect a triumph, unless they had been given and watched over by the Deity?"

[943]From its innumerable martyrs. "If a person," says Dr. Jortin, "lays down his life for the name of Christ, or for what he takes to be the religion of Christ, when he might prolong his days by renouncing his faith, he must stand for a martyr in every reasonable man's calendar, though he may have been much mistaken in some of his opinions." It has been calculated that since Christianity arose, not less than fifty millions of martyrs have laid down their lives for its sake. Some were venerable for years; others were in the bloom of life; and not a few were of the weaker sex. They were, for the most part, well-instructed persons. Many were learned and respectable men; neither factious in their principles nor violent in their passions. They were neither wild in their notions, nor foolishly prodigal of their lives. This may safely be affirmed of such men as Polycarp and Ignatius, Jerome and Huss, Latimer and Cranmer, Ridley and Hooper, Philpot and Bradford, Lambert and Saunders, and many others. Yet these so valued the Bible, that, rather than renounce it, and relinquish the hopes it inspired, they yielded their bodies to be burnt, or otherwise tormented, and "rejoiced and clapped their hands in flames," or the like. "All that a man hath will he give for his life." All account life sweet and precious. No man of sense and understanding will sacrifice his life, when he can preserve it, but for some deeply rooted conviction of truth or duty. In this view, Christian martyrs are entitled to our respect and esteem. For, they gave the strongest proof of sincerity of their faith: and no suspicion of fraud can reasonably be entertained against them. "We conclude," says Dr. Jortin, "that they were assisted by God, who alleviated their pain, and gave them not only resignation and patience, but exultation and joy. And this wonderful behavior of the former Christians may justly be accounted a proof of the truth of the Bible, and our holy religion, and we should deserve to be blamed and despised if we parted with it, and gave it up tamely on [944]account of a few objections." "No man," observes Dr. Beattie, "ever laid down his life for the honor of Jupiter, Neptune, or Apollo; but how many thousands have sealed their Christian testimony with their blood!" What a moral victory! And whence but from heaven such a religion, having such attestation?

Other arguments might be added tending to demonstrate the truth of our proposition; but surely, enough have been produced to establish the authority of the Bible on an immovable basis. "Forever, O Lord, Thy word is settled in heaven. I esteem all Thy precepts concerning all things to be right; and I hate every false way." "All flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away; but the word of the Lord endureth forever. And this is the word which by the Gospel is preached unto you."

THE END.

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FOOTNOTES:

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Hellenica World - Scientific Library