Mosaics of Grecian History Part 20

(4.) Along the river's level meads they stand, Thick as in spring the flowers adorn the land, Or leaves the trees; or thick as insects play, The wandering nation of a summer's day, That, drawn by milky streams, at evening hours, In gathered swarms surround the rural bowers; From pail to pail with busy murmur run The gilded legions, glittering in the sun.

So thronged, so close the Grecian squadrons stood In radiant arms, athirst for Trojan blood.

(5.) Each leader now his scattered force conjoins In close array, and forms the deepening lines.

Not with more ease the skilful shepherd swain Collects his flocks from thousands on the plain.

(6.) The king of kings, majestically tall, Towers o'er his armies, and outs.h.i.+nes them all; Like some proud bull, that round the pastures leads His subject herds, the monarch of the meads, Great as the G.o.ds, the exalted chief was seen, His chest like Neptune, and like Mars his mien; Jove o'er his eyes celestial glories spread, And dawning conquest played around his head.

--POPE'S Trans.

Similes abound on nearly every page of the Iliad, and they are always appropriate to the subject. We select from them the following additional specimen, in which the brightness and number of the fires of the Trojans, in their encampment, are likened to the moon and stars in their glory--when, as Cowper translates the fourth line, "not a vapor streaks the boundless blue."

As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, O'er heaven's blue azure spreads her sacred light, When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene; Around her throne the vivid planets roll, And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole, O'er the dark trees a yellow verdure shed, And tip with silver every mountain head; Then s.h.i.+ne the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, A flood of glory bursts from all the skies; The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light; So many fires before proud Ilion blaze, And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays.

--Iliad, B. VIII. POPE'S Trans.

Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, is said to have declared of the two great epics of Homer:

Read Homer once, and you can read no more, For all books else appear so mean, so poor; Verse will seem prose; but still persist to read, And Homer will be all the books you need.

The following characterization, from the pen of HENRY NELSON COLERIDGE, is both true and pleasing:

"There are many hearts and minds to which one of these matchless poems will be more delightful than the other; there are many to which both will give equal pleasure, though of different kinds; but there can hardly be a person, not utterly averse to the Muses, who will be quite insensible to the manifold charms of one or the other. The dramatic action of the Iliad may command attention where the diffused narrative of the Odyssey would fail to do so; but how can anyone, who loves poetry under any shape, help yielding up his soul to the virtuous siren-singing of Genius and Truth, which is forever resounding from the pages of either of These marvelous and truly immortal poems? In the Iliad will be found the sterner lessons of public justice or public expedience, and the examples are for statesmen and generals; in the Odyssey we are taught the maxims of private prudence and individual virtue, and the instances are applicable to all mankind: in both, Honesty, Veracity, and Fort.i.tude are commended, and set up for imitation; in both, Treachery, Falsehood, and Cowardice are condemned, and exposed for our scorn and avoidance.

"Born, like the river of Egypt, in secret light, these poems yet roll on their great collateral streams, wherein a thousand poets have bathed their sacred heads, and thence drunk beauty and truth, and all sweet and n.o.ble harmonies. Known to no man is the time or place of their gus.h.i.+ng forth from the earth's bosom, but their course has been among the fields and by the dwellings of men, and our children now sport on their banks and quaff their salutary waters. Of all the Greek poetry, I, for one, have no hesitation in saying that the Iliad and the Odyssey are the most delightful, and have been the most instructive works to me; there is a freshness about them both which never fades, a truth and sweetness which charmed me as a boy and a youth, and on which, if I attain to it, I count largely for a soothing recreation in my old age."

II. SOME CAUSES OF GREEK UNITY.

The natural causes which tended to unite the Greeks as a people were a common descent, a common language, and a common religion.

Greek genius led the nation to trace its origin, where historical memory failed, to fabulous persons sprung from the earth or the G.o.ds; and under the legends of primitive and heroic ancestors lie the actual migrations and conquests of rude bands sprung from related or allied tribes. These poetical tales, accepted throughout h.e.l.las as historical, convinced the people of a common origin.

Thus the Greeks had a common share in the renown of their ancient heroes, upon whose achievements or lineage the claims of families to hereditary authority, and of states to the leaders.h.i.+p of confederacies, were grounded. The pride or the ambition of political rivals led to the gradual embellishment of these traditions, and ended in ancestral wors.h.i.+p. Thus Attica had a temple to Theseus, the Ionian hero; the shrine of aesculapius at Epidau'rus was famous throughout the cla.s.sic world; and the exploits of Hercules were commemorated by the Dorians at the tomb of a Ne'mean king. When the bard and the playwright clothed these tales in verse, all Greece hearkened; and when the painter or the sculptor took these subjects for his skill, all Greece applauded. Thus was strengthened the national sense of fraternal blood.

The possession of a common speech is so great a means of union, that the Romans imposed the Latin tongue on all public business and official records, even where Greek was the more familiar language; and the Mediaeval Church displayed her unity by the use of Latin in every bishopric on all occasions of public wors.h.i.+p.

A language not only makes the literature embodied in it the heritage of all who speak it, but it diffuses among them the subtle genius which has shaped its growth. The lofty regard in which the Greeks held their own musical and flexible language is ill.u.s.trated by an anecdote of Themis'tocles, who put to death the interpreter of a Persian emba.s.sy to Athens because he dared "to use the Greek tongue to utter the demands of the barbarian king." From Col'chis to Spain some Grecian dialect attested the extent and the unity of the h.e.l.lenic race.

The Greek inst.i.tutions of religion were still more powerful instruments of unity. It was the genius of a race dest.i.tute of an organized priesthood, and not the fancy of the poet, which animated nature by personifying its forces. Zeus was the all-embracing heavens, the father of G.o.ds and men; Neptune presided over the seas; Deme'ter gave the harvest; Juno was the G.o.ddess of reproduction, and Aphrodi'te the patroness of Jove; while Apollo represented the joy-inspiring orb of day. The same imagination raised the earth to sentient life by a.s.signing Dryads to the trees, Naiads to the fountains and brooks, O're-ads to the hills, Ner'e-ids to the seas, and Satyrs to the fields; and in this many-sided and devout sympathy with nature the imagination and reverence of all Greece found expression. But Greek religion in its temples, its oracles, its games, and its councils, provided more tangible bonds of union than those of sentiment. Each city had its tutelary deity, whose temple was usually the most beautiful building in it, and to which any Greek might have access to make his offering or prayer. The sacred precincts were not to be profaned by those who were polluted with unexpiated crime, nor by blood, nor by the presence of the dead: Hence the temples of Greece were places of refuge for those who would escape from private or judicial vengeance. The more famous oracles of Greece were at Dodo'na, at Delphi, at Lebade'a in Boeotia, and at Epidaurus in Ar'golis.

They were consulted by those who wished to penetrate the future.

To this superst.i.tion the Greeks were greatly addicted, and they allowed the gravest business to wait for the omens of the diviner.

A people thus disposed demanded and secured unmolested access to the oracle. The city in whose custody it was must be inviolable, and the roads thereto un.o.bstructed. The oracle was a national possession, and its keepers were national servants.

THE GRECIAN FESTIVALS.

The public games or festivals of the Greeks were probably of greater efficacy in promoting a spirit of union than any other outgrowth of the religions sentiment of Greece. The Greeks exhibited a pa.s.sionate fondness for festivals and games, which were occasionally celebrated in every state for the amus.e.m.e.nt of the people. These, however, were far less interesting than the four great public games, sacred to the G.o.ds, which were--the Pythian, at Delphos, sacred to Apollo; the Isth'mian, at Corinth, to Neptune; the Nemean, at Nemea, to Hercules; and the Olympic, at Olympia in E'lis, to Jupiter. To these cities flocked the young and the aged, the private citizen and the statesman, the trader and the artist, to witness or engage in the spectacles.

The games were open to all citizens who could prove their h.e.l.lenic origin; and prizes were awarded for the best exhibitions of skill in poetry--and in running, wrestling, boxing, leaping, pitching the discus, or quoit, throwing the javelin, and chariot-racing.

The most important of these games was the Olympic, though it involved many principles common to the others. Its origin is obscure; and, though it appears that during the Heroic Age some Grecian chiefs celebrated their victories in public games at Olympia, yet it was not until the time of Lycurgus, in 776 B.C., that the games at Olympia were brought under certain rules, and performed at certain periods. At that time they were revived, so to speak, and were celebrated at the close of every fourth year. From their quadrennial occurrence all h.e.l.las computed its chronology, the interval that elapsed between one celebration and the next being called an Olympiad. During the month that the games continued there was a complete suspension of all hostilities, to enable every Greek to attend them without hindrance or danger.

One of the most popular and celebrated of all the matches held at these games was chariot-racing, with four horses. The following description of one of these races is taken from a tragedy of SOPHOCLES--the Electra--translated by Bulwer. Orestes, son of Agamemnon, had gained five victories on the first day of the trial; and on the second, of which the account is here given, he starts with nine compet.i.tors--an Achaean, a Spartan, two Libyans, an aetolian, a Magnesian; an ae'ni-an, an Athenian, and a Boeotian --and meets his death in the moment of triumph.

The Chariot-race, and the Death of Orestes.

They took their stand where the appointed judges Had cast their lots and ranged the rival cars.

Rang out the brazen trump! Away they bound!

Cheer the hot steeds and shake the slackened reins; As with a body the large s.p.a.ce is filled With the huge clangor of the rattling cars; High whirl aloft the dust-clouds; blent together Each presses each, and the lash rings, and loud Snort the wild steeds, and from their fiery breath, Along their manes, and down the circling wheels, Scatter the flaking foam.

Orestes still, Aye, as he swept around the perilous pillar Last in the course, wheeled in the rus.h.i.+ng axle, The left rein curbed--that on the outer hand Flung loose. So on erect the chariots rolled!

Sudden the aenian's fierce and headlong steeds Broke from the bit, and, as the seventh time now The course was circled, on the Libyan car Dashed their wild fronts: then order changed to ruin; Car dashed on car; the wide Crissae'an plain Was, sea-like, strewn with wrecks: the Athenian saw, Slackened his speed, and, wheeling round the marge, Unscathed and skilful, in the midmost s.p.a.ce, Left the wild tumult of that tossing storm.

Behind, Orestes, hitherto the last, Had kept back his coursers for the close; Now one sole rival left--on, on he flew, And the sharp sound of the impelling scourge Rang in the keen ears of the flying steeds.

He nears--he reaches--they are side by side; Now one--now th' other--by a length the victor.

The courses all are past, the wheels erect-- All safe--when, as the hurrying coursers round The fatal pillar dashed, the wretched boy Slackened the left rein. On the column's edge Crashed the frail axle--headlong from the car, Caught and all mesh'd within the reins, he fell; And! masterless, the mad steeds raged along!

Loud from that mighty mult.i.tude arose A shriek--a shout! But yesterday such deeds-- To-day such doom! Now whirled upon the earth, Now his limbs dashed aloft, they dragged him, those Wild horses, till, all gory, from the wheels Released--and no man, not his nearest friends, Could in that mangled corpse have traced Orestes.

They laid the body on the funeral pyre, And, while we speak, the Phocian strangers bear, In a small, brazen, melancholy urn, That handful of cold ashes to which all The grandeur of the beautiful hath shrunk.

Within they bore him--in his father's land To find that heritage, a tomb.

The Pythian games are said to have been established in honor of the victory that Apollo gained at Delphi over the serpent Py'thon, on setting out to erect his temple. This monster, said to have sprung from the stagnant waters of the deluge of Deucalion, may have been none other than the malaria which laid waste the surrounding country, and which some early benefactor of the race overcame by draining the marshes; or, perhaps, as the English writer, Dodwell, suggests, the true explanation of the allegorical fiction is that the serpent was the river Cephis'sus, which, after the deluge had overflowed the plains, surrounded Parna.s.sus with its serpentine involutions, and was at length reduced, by the rays of the sun-G.o.d, within its due limits. The poet OVID gives the following relation of the fable:

Apollo's Conflict with Python.

From hence the surface of the ground, with mud And slime besmeared (the refuse of the flood), Received the rays of heaven, and sucking in The seeds of heat, new creatures did begin.

Some were of several sorts produced before; But, of new monsters, earth created more.

Unwillingly, but yet she brought to light Thee, Python, too, the wondering world to fright, And the new nations, with so dire a sight, So monstrous was his bulk; so large a s.p.a.ce Did his vast body and long train embrace; Whom Phoebus, basking on a bank, espied.

Ere now the G.o.d his arrows had not tried But on the trembling deer or mountain-goat: At this new quarry he prepares to shoot.

Though every shaft took place, he spent the store Of his full quiver; and 'twas long before The expiring serpent wallowed in his gore.

Then, to preserve the fame of such a deed, For Python slain he Pythian games decreed, Where n.o.ble youths for masters.h.i.+p should strive-- To quoit, to run, and steeds and chariots drive.

The prize was fame; in witness of renown, An oaken garland did the victor crown.

The laurel was not yet for triumphs born, But every green, alike by Phoebus worn, Did, with promiscuous grace, his flowing locks adorn.

--Metamorphoses. Trans. by DRYDEN.

The victory of Apollo over the Python is represented by a statue called Apollo Belvedere, perhaps the greatest existing work of ancient art. It was found in 1503, among the ruins of ancient Antium, and it derives its name from its position in the belvedere, or open gallery, of the Vatican at Rome, where it was placed by Pope Julius II. It shows the conception which the ancients had of this benign deity, and also the high degree of perfection to which they had attained in sculpture. A modern writer gives the following account of it:

"The statue is of heroic size, and shows the very perfection of manly beauty. The G.o.d stands with the left arm extended, still holding the bow, while the right hand, which has just left the string, is near his hip. This right hand and part of the right arm, as well as the left hand, were wanting in the statue when found, and were restored by Angelo da Montor'soli, a pupil of Michael Angelo. The figure is nude; only a short cloak hangs over the left shoulder. The breast is full and dilated; the muscles are conspicuous, though not exaggerated; the body seems a little thin about the hips, but is poised with such singular grace as to impart to the whole a beauty hardly possessed by any other statue. The sculptor is not known: many attribute the statue to He-ge'si-as, the Ephesian, others to Praxit'e-les or Cal'amis; but its origin and date must remain a matter of conjecture."

The following poetical description of this wonderful statue is given us by THOMSON:

All conquest-flushed, from prostrate Python came The quivered G.o.d. In graceful act he stands, His arm extended with the slackened bow: Light flows his easy robe, and fair displays A manly, softened form. The bloom of G.o.ds Seems youthful o'er the bearded cheek to wave; His features yet heroic ardor warms; And, sweet subsiding to a native smile, Mixed with the joy elating conquest gives, A scattered frown exalts his matchless air.

THE NATIONAL COUNCILS.

While the elements of union we have been considering produced a decided effect in forming Greek national character--serving to strengthen, in the mind of the Greek, the feelings which bound him to his country by keeping alive his national love and pride, and exerting an important influence over his physical education and discipline--they possessed little or no efficacy as a bond of political union--what Greece so much needed. It was probably a recognition of this need that led, at an early period, to the formation of national councils, the primary object of which was the regulation of mutual intercourse between the several states.

Of these early councils we have an example in the several a.s.sociations known as the Amphicty'o-nes, of which the only one that approached a national senate received the distinctive t.i.tle of the "Amphictyon'ic Council." This is said to have been inst.i.tuted by Amphic'tyon, a son of Deucalion, King of Thessaly; but he was probably a fict.i.tious personage, invented to account for the origin of the inst.i.tution attributed to him. The council is said to have been composed, originally, of deputies from twelve tribes or nations--two from each tribe. But, as independent states or cities grew up, each of these also was ent.i.tled to the same representation; and no state, however powerful, was ent.i.tled to more. The council met twice every year; in the spring at Delphi, and in the autumn at Anthe'la, a village near Thermopylae.

While the objects of this council, so far as they can be learned, were praiseworthy, and its action tended to produce the happiest political effects, it was, after all, more especially a religious a.s.sociation. It had no right of interference in ordinary wars between the communities represented in it, and could not turn aside schemes of ambition and conquest, or subdue the jealousies of rival states. The oath taken by its members ran thus: "We will not destroy any Amphictyonic town, nor cut it off from running water in war or peace; if anyone shall do so, we will march against him and destroy his city. If anyone shall plunder the property of the G.o.d, or shall take treacherous counsel against the things in his temple at Delphi, we will punish him with foot, and hand, and voice, and by every means in our power." Its chief functions, as we see, were to guard the temple of Delphi and the interests of religion; and it was only in cases of a violation of these, or under that pretence, that it could call for the cooperation of all its members. Inefficient as it had proved to be in many instances, yet Philip of Macedon, by placing himself at its head, overturned the independence of Greece; but its use ceased altogether when the Delphic oracle lost its influence, a considerable time before the reign of Constantine the Great.

Aside from the causes already a.s.signed, the want of political union among the Greeks may be ascribed to a natural and mutual jealousy, which, in the language of Mr. Thirlwall, "stifled even the thought of a confederacy" that might have prevented internal wars and saved Greece from foreign dominion. This jealousy the inst.i.tutions to which we have referred could not remove; and it was heightened by the great diversity of the forms of government that existed in the Grecian states. As another writer has well observed, "The independent sovereignty of each city was a fundamental notion in the Greek mind. The patriotism of a Greek was confined to his city, and rarely kindled into any general love for the welfare of h.e.l.las. So complete was the political division between the Greek cities, that the citizen of one was an alien and a stranger in the territory of another. He was not merely debarred from all share in the government, but he could not acquire property in land or houses, nor contract a marriage with a native woman, nor sue in the courts except through the medium of a friendly citizen. The cities thus repelling each other, the sympathies and feelings of a Greek became more central in his own."