A Day In Old Athens
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William Stearns Davis >> A Day In Old Athens
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179. Cattle, Sheep, and Goats.--There is also room in the orchards
for apples, pears, and quinces, but there is nothing distinctive
about their culture. If we are interested in cattle, however, we
can spend a long time at the barns, or be guided out to the upland
pasture where Hybrias's flocks and herds are grazing. Horses are
a luxury. They are almost never used in farm work, and for riding
and cavalry service it is best to import a good courser from
Thessaly; no attempt, therefore, is made to breed them here. But
despite the small demand for beef and butter a good many cattle are
raised; for oxen are needed for the plowing and carting, oxhides
have a steady sale, and there is a regular call for beehives for
the hecatombs at the great public sacrifices. Sheep are in greater
acceptance. Their wool is of large importance to a land which knows
comparatively little of cotton. They can live on scanty pasturage
where an ox would starve. Still more in favor are goats Their
coarse hair has a thousand uses. Their flesh and cheese are among
the most staple articles in the Agora. Sure-footed and adventurous,
they scale the side of the most unpromising crags in search of
herbage and can sometimes be seen perching, almost like birds, in
what seem utterly inaccessible eyries. Thanks to them the barren
highlands of Attica are turned to good account,--and between goat
raising and bee culture an income can sometimes be extracted from
the very summits of the mountains. As for the numerous swine, it
is enough to say that they range under Hybrias's oak forest and
fatten on acorns, although their swineherd, wrapped in a filthy
sheepskin, is a far more loutish and ignoble fellow than the "divine
Eumeus" glorified in the "Odyssey."
180. The Gardens and the Shrine.--Did we wish to linger, we could
be shown the barnyard with its noisy retinue of hens, pheasants,
guinea fowl, and pigeons; and we would be asked to admire the geese,
cooped up and being gorged for fattening, or the stately peacocks
preening their splendors. We would also hear sage disquisitions from
the "oldest inhabitants" on the merits of fertilizers, especially
on the uses of mixing seaweed with manure, also we would be told of
the almost equally important process of burying a toad in a sealed
jar in the midst of a field to save the corn from the crows and
the field mice. Hybrias laughs at such superstitions--"but what
can you say to the rustics?" Hybrias himself will display with
more refined pride the gardens used by his wife and children when
they come out from Athens,--a fountain feeding a delightful rivulet;
myrtles, roses, and pomegranate trees shedding their perfumes, which
are mingled with the odors from the beds of hyacinths, violets,
and asphodel. In the center of the gardens rises a chaste little
shrine with a marble image and an altar, always covered with flowers
or fruit by the mistress and her women. "To Artemis," reads the
inscription, and one is sure that the virgin goddess takes more
pleasure in this fragrant temple than in many loftier fanes.[*]
[*]For the description of a very beautiful and elaborate country
estate, with a temple thereon to Artemis, see Xenophon's "Anabasis,"
bk. V. 3.
We are glad to add here our wreaths ere turning away from this
wholesome, verdant country seat, and again taking our road to
Athens.
Chapter XX. The Temples and Gods of Athens.
181. Certain Factors in Athenian Religion.--We have seen the
Athenians in their business and in their pleasure, at their courts,
their assemblies, their military musters, and on their peaceful farms;
yet one great side of Athenian life has been almost ignored--the
religious side. A "Day in Athens" spent without taking account of
the gods of the city and their temples would be a day spent with
almost half-closed eyes.[*]
[*]No attempt is made in this discussion to enumerate the various
gods and demigods of the conventional mythology, their regular
attributes, etc. It is assumed the average history or manual of
mythology gives sufficient information.
It is far easier to learn how the Athenians arrange their houses
than how the average man among them adjusts his attitude toward
the gods. While any searching examination of the fundamentals of
Greek cultus and religion is here impossible, two or three facts
must, nevertheless, be kept in mind, if we are to understand even
the OUTWARD side of this Greek religion which is everywhere in
evidence about us.
First of all we observe that the Greek religion is a religion of
purely natural growth. No prophet has initiated it, or claimed
a new revelation to supplement the older views. It has come from
primitive times without a visible break even down to the Athens of
Plato. This explains at once why so many time-honored stories of
the Olympic deities are very gross, and why the gods seem to give
countenance to moral views which the best public opinion has long
since called scandalous and criminal. The religion of Athens, in
other words, may justly claim to be judged by its best, not by its
worst; by the morality of Socrates, not of Homer.
Secondly, this religion is not a church, nor a belief, but is part
of the government. Every Athenian is born into accepting the fact
that Athena Polias is the divine warder of the city, as much as
he is born into accepting the fact that it is his duty to obey the
strategi in battle. To repudiate the gods of Athens, e.g. in favor
of those of Egypt, is as much iniquity as to join forces against
the Athenians if they are at war with Egypt;--the thing is sheer
treason, and almost unthinkable. For countless generations the
Athenians have worshipped the "Ancestral Gods." They are proud of
them, familiar with them; the gods have participated in all the
prosperity of the city. Athena is as much a part of Attica as
gray Hymettus or white-crowned Pentelicus; and the very fact that
comedians, like Aristophanes, make good-natured fun of the divinities
indicates that "they are members of the family."
Thirdly, notice that this religion is one mainly of outward reverence
and ceremony. There is no "Athenian church"; nobody has drawn up
an "Attic creed"--"I believe in Athena, the City Warder, and in
Demeter, the Earth Mother, and in Zeus, the King of Heaven, etc."
Give outward reverence, participate in the great public sacrifices,
be careful in all the minutie of private worship, refrain from
obvious blasphemies--you are then a sufficiently pious man. What
you BELIEVE is of very little consequence. Even if you privately
believe there are no gods at all, it harms no one, provided your
outward conduct is pious and moral.
182. What constitutes "Piety" in Athens.--Of course there have
been some famous prosecutions for "impiety." Socrates was the
most conspicuous victim; but Socrates was a notable worshipper of
the gods, and certainly all the charges of his being an "atheist"
broke down. What he was actually attacked with was "corrupting
the youth of Athens," i.e. giving the young men such warped ideas
of their private and public duties that they ceased to be moral
and useful citizens. But even Socrates was convicted only with
difficulty[*]; a generation has passed since his death. Were he
on trial at present, a majority of the jury would probably be with
him.
[*]It might be added that if Socrates had adopted a really worldly
wise line of defense, he would probably have been acquitted, or
subjected merely to a mild pecuniary penalty.
The religion of Athens is something very elastic, and really every
man makes his own creed for himself, or--for paganism is almost
never dogmatic--accepts the outward cultus with everybody else, and
speculates at his leisure on the nature of the deity. The great
bulk of the uneducated are naturally content to accept the old
stories and superstitions with unthinking credulity. It is enough
to know that one must pray to Zeus for rain, and to Hermes for luck
in a slippery business bargain. There are a few philosophers who,
along with perfectly correct outward observance, teach privately
that the old Olympian system is a snare and folly. They pass
around the daring word which Xenophanes uttered as early as the
sixth century B.C.:--
One God there is, greatest of gods and mortals,
Not like to man is he in mind or in body.
All of him sees, all of him thinks, and all of him harkens.
This, of course, is obvious pantheism, but it is easy to cover up
all kinds of pale monotheism or pantheism under vague reference to
the omnipotence of "Zeus."
183. The Average Athenian's Idea of the Gods.--The average
intelligent citizen probably has views midway between the stupid
rabble and the daring philosophers. To him the gods of Greece
stand out in full divinity, honored and worshipped because they
are protectors of the good, avengers of the evil, and guardians
of the moral law. They punish crime and reward virtue, though the
punishment may tarry long. They demand a pure heart and a holy
mind of all that approach them, and woe to him who wantonly defies
their eternal laws. This is the morality taught by the master
tragedians, Aeschylus and Sophocles, and accepted by the best public
opinion at Athens; for the insidious doubts cast by Euripides upon
the reality of any divine scheme of governance have never struck
home. The scandalous stories about the domestic broils on Olympus,
in which Homer indulges, only awaken good-natured banter. It is
no longer proper--as in Homeric days--to pride oneself on one's
cleverness in perjury and common falsehood. Athenians do not
have twentieth century notions about the wickedness of lying, but
certain it is the gods do not approve thereof. In short, most of
the better class of Athenians are genuinely "religious"; nevertheless
they have too many things in this human world to interest them to
spend overmuch time in adjusting their personal concepts of the
deity to any system of theology.
184. Most Greeks without belief in Immortality.--Yet one thing we
must add. This Greek religious morality is built up without any
clear belief in a future life. Never has the average Hellene been
able to form a satisfactory conception of the soul's existence,
save dwelling within a mortal body and under the glorious light of
beloved Helios. To Homer the after life in Hades was merely the
perpetuation of the shadows of departed humanity, "strengthless
shades" who live on the gloomy plains of asphodel, feeding upon
dear memories, and incapable of keen emotions or any real mental or
physical progress or action. Only a few great sinners like Tantalus,
doomed to eternal torture, or favored being like Menelaus, predestined
to the "Blessed Isles," are ordained to any real immortality. As
the centuries advanced, and the possibilities of this terrestrial
world grew ever keener, the hope of any future state became ever
more vague. The fear of a gloomy shadow life in Hades for the
most part disappeared, but that was only to confirm the belief that
death ends all things.
Where'er his course man tends,
Inevitable death impends,
And for the worst and for the best,
Is strewn the same dark couch of rest.[*]
[*]Milman, Translator.
So run the lines of a poet whose name is forgotten, but who spoke
well the thought of his countrymen.
True there has been a contradiction of this gloomy theory. The
"Orphic Mysteries," those secret religious rites which have gained
such a hold in many parts of Greece, including Athens, probably
hold out an earnest promise to the "initiates" of a blessed state
for them hereafter. The doctrine of a real elysium for the good and
a realm of torment for the evil has been expounded by many sages.
Pindar, the great bard of Thebes, has set forth the doctrine in a
glowing ode.[*] Socrates, if we may trust the report Plato gives
of him, has spent his last hours ere drinking the hemlock, in adducing
cogent, philosophic reasons for the immortality of the soul. All
this is true,--and it is also true that these ideas have made no
impression upon the general Greek consciousness. They are accepted
half-heartedly by a relatively few exceptional thinkers. Men
go through life and face death with no real expectation of future
reward or punishment, or of reunion with the dear departed. If
the gods are angry, you escape them at the grave; if the gods are
friendly, all they can give is wealth, health, honor, a hale old
age, and prosperity for your children. The instant after death the
righteous man and the robber are equal. This fundamental deduction
from the Greek religion must usually, therefore, be made--it is a
religion for THIS WORLD ONLY. Let us see what are its usual outward
operations.
[*]Quoted in "Readings in Ancient History," vol. I, pp. 261-262,
and in many works in Greek literature.
185. The Multitude of Images of the Gods.--Gods are everywhere in
Athens. You cannot take the briefest walk without being reminded
that the world is full of deities. There is a "Herm"[*] by the main
door of every house, as well as a row of them across the Agora. At
many of the street crossings there are little shrines to Hecate;
or statues of Apollo Agyieus, the street guardian; or else a bay
tree stands there, a graceful reminder of this same god, to which
it is sacred. In every house there is the small alter whereon
garlands and fruit offerings are daily laid to Zeus Herkeios, and
another altar to Hestia. On one or both of these altars a little
food and a little wine are cast at every meal. All public meetings
or court sessions open with sacrifice; in short, to attempt any
semi-important public or private act without inviting the friendly
attention of the deity is unthinkable. To a well-bred Athenian
this is second instinct; he considers it as inevitable as the common
courtesies of speech among gentlemen. Plato sums up the current
opinion well, "All men who have any decency, in the attempting of
matters great or small, always invoke divine aid."[+]
[*]A stone post about shoulder high, surmounted by a bearded head.
Contrary to modern impression, the average Greek did not conceive
of Hermes as a beautiful youth. He was a grave, bearded man. The
youthful aspect came through the manipulation of the Hermes myths
by the master sculptors--e.g. Praxiteles.
[+]Timeus, p. 27 c.
186. Greek Superstition.--In many cases, naturally, piety runs
off into crass superstition. The gods, everybody knows, frequently
make known future events by various signs. He who can understand
these signs will be able to adjust his life accordingly and
enjoy great prosperity. Most educated men take a sensible view
of "omens," and do not let them influence their conduct absurdly.
Some, however, act otherwise. There is, for instance, Laches,
one of the greatest at Prodicus's feast. He lives in a realm of
mingled hopes and fears, although he is wealthy and well-educated.[*]
He is all the time worried about dreams, and paying out money
to the sharp and wily "seer" (who counts him his best client) for
"interpretations." If a weasel crosses his path he will not walk
onward until somebody else has gone before him, or until he has
thrown three stones across the road. He is all the time worrying
about the significance of sudden noises, meteors, thunder; especially
he is disturbed when he sees birds flying in groups or towards
unlucky quarters of the heavens.[+] Laches, however, is not merely
religious--although he is always asking "which god shall I invoke
now?" or "what are the omens for the success of this enterprise?"
His own associates mock him as being superstitious, and say they
never trouble themselves about omens save in real emergencies.
Still it is "bad luck" for any of them to stumble over a threshold,
to meet a hare suddenly, or especially to find a snake (the companion
of the dead) hidden in the house.
[*]See Theophratus's character, "The Superstitious Man."
[+]The birds of clearest omen were the great birds of prey--hawks,
"Apollo's swift messengers," and eagles, "the birds of Zeus." It
was a good omen if the birds flew from left to right, a bad omen
if in the reverse direction.
187. Consulting Omens.--Laches's friends, however, all regularly
consult the omens when they have any important enterprise on hand--a
voyage, a large business venture, a marriage treaty, etc. There
are several ways, not expensive; the interpreters are not priests,
only low-born fellows as a rule, whose fees are trifling. You
can find out about the future by casting meal upon the altar fire
and noticing how it is burned, by watching how chickens pick up
consecrated grain,[*] by observing how the sacrificial smoke curls
upward, etc. The best way, however, is to examine the entrails
of the victim after a sacrifice. Here everything depends on the
shape, size, etc., of the various organs, especially of the liver,
bladder, spleen, and lungs, and really expert judgment by an experienced
and high-priced seer is desirable. The man who is assured by a
reliable seer, "the livers are large and in fine color," will go
on his trading voyage with a confident heart.
[*]A very convenient way,--for it was a good sign if the chickens
ate eagerly and one could always get a fair omen by keeping the
fowls hungry a few hours ere "putting the question"!
188. The Great Oracles.--Assuredly there is a better way still to
read the future; at least so Greeks of earlier ages have believed.
Go to one of the great oracles, whereof that of Apollo at Delphi
is the supreme, but not the unique, example. Ask your question
in set form from the attendant priests, not failing to offer an
elaborate sacrifice and to bestow all the "gifts" (golden tripods,
mixing bowls, shields, etc.) your means will allow. Then (at
Delphi) wait silent and awe-stricken while the lady Pythia, habited
as a young girl, takes her seat on a tripod over a deep cleft in
the rock, whence issues an intoxicating vapor. She inhales the gas,
sways to and fro in an ecstasy, and now, duly "inspired," answers
in a somewhat wild manner the queries which the priest will put in
behalf of the supplicants. Her incoherent words are very hard to
understand, but the priest duly "interprets" them, i.e. gives them
to the suppliant in the form of hexameter verses. Sometimes the
meaning of these verses is perfectly clear. Very often they are
truly "Delphic," with a most dubious meaning--as in that oft-quoted
instance, when the Pythia told Croesus if he went to war with Cyrus,
"he would destroy a mighty monarchy," and lo, he destroyed his own!
Besides Delphi, there are numerous lesser oracles, each with its
distinctive method of "revelation." But there is none, at least of
consequence, within Attica, while a journey to Delphi is a serious
and highly expensive undertaking. And as a matter of fact Delphi
has partially lost credit in Athens. In the great Persian War
Delphi unpatriotically "medized"--gave oracles friendly to Xerxes
and utterly discouraging to the patriot cause. Then after this
conviction of false prophesy, the oracle fell, for most of the
time, into the hands of Sparta, and was obviously very willing
to "reveal" things only in the Lacedemonian interest. Hellenes
generally and the Spartans in particular have still much esteem for
the utterances of the Pythia, but Athenians are not now very partial
to her. Soon will come the seizure of Delphi by the Phoenicians
and the still further discrediting of this once great oracle.
189. Greek Sacrifices.--The two chief elements of Greek worship,
however, are not consideration of the future, but sacrificial and
prayer. Sacrifices in their simple form, as we have seen, take
place continually, before every routine act. They become more formal
when the proposed action is really important, or when the suppliant
wishes to give thanks for some boon, or, at rarer intervals, to
desire purification from some offense. There is no need of a priest
for the simpler sacrifices. The father of the family can pour
out the libation, can burn the food upon the altar, can utter the
prayer for all his house; but in the greater sacrifices a priest
is desirable, not as a sacred intermediary betwixt god and man,
but as an expert to advise the worshipper what are the competent
rites, and to keep him from ignorantly angering heaven by unhappy
words and actions.[*]
[*]There were almost no hereditary priesthoods in Attica (outside
the Emolpide connected with the mystical cult of Eleusis). Almost
anybody of good character could qualify as a priest with due
training, and there was little of the sacrosanct about the usual
priestly office.
Let us witness a sacrifice of this more formal kind, and while doing
so we can tread upon the spot we have seemed in a manner to shun
during our wanderings through Athens, the famous and holy Acropolis.
190. The Route to the Acropolis.--Phormion, son of Cresphontes, has
been to Arcadia, and won the pentathlon in some athletic contests
held at Mantinea. Although not equal to a triumph in the "four
great Panhellenic contests," it was a most notable victory. Before
setting out he vowed a sheep to Athena the Virgin if he conquered.
The goddess was kind, and Phormion is very grateful. While the
multitudes are streaming out to the Gymnasia, the young athlete,
brawny and handsome, surrounded by an admiring coterie of friends
and kinsmen, sets out for the Acropolis.
Phormion's home is in the "Ceramicus," the so-called "potters'
quarter." His walk takes him a little to the west of the Agora,
and close to the elegant temple of Hephestos,[*] but past this and
many other fanes he hastens. It was not the fire god which gave
him fair glory at Mantinea. He goes onward until he is forced to
make a detour to the left, at the craggy, rough hill of Areopagus
which rises before him. Here, if time did not press, he might have
tarried to pay respectful reverence before a deep fissure cleft
in the side of the rock. In front of this fissure stands a little
altar. All Phormion's company look away as they pass the spot,
and they mutter together "Be propitious, O Eumenides!" (literally,
Well-minded Ones). For like true Greeks they delight to call foul
things with fair and propitious names; and that awful fissure and
altar are sacred to the Erinyes (Furies), the horrible maidens, the
trackers of guilt, the avengers of murder; and above their cave,
on these rude rocks, sits the august court of the Aeropagus when
it meets as a "tribunal of blood" to try cases of homicide.
[*]This temple, now called the "Theseum," is the only well preserved
ancient temple in modern Athens.
Phormion's party quicken their steps and quit this spot of ill
omen. Then their sight is gladdened. The whole glorious Acropolis
stands out before them.
191. The Acropolis of Athens.--Almost every Greek city has its own
formidable citadel, its own "acropolis,"--for "citadel" is really
all this word conveys. Corinth boasts of its "Acro-Corinthus,"
Thebes of its "Cadmeia,"--but THE Acropolis is in Athens. The later
world will care little for any other, and the later world will be
right. The Athenian stronghold has long ceased to be a fortress,
though still it rises steep and strong. It is now one vast temple
compound, covered with magnificent buildings. Whether considered
as merely a natural rock commanding a marvelous view, or as a
consecrated museum of sculpture and architecture, it deserves its
immortality. We raise our eyes to THE ROCK as we approach it.
The Acropolis dominates the plain of Athens. All the city seems
to adjust itself to the base of its holy citadel. It lifts itself
as tawny limestone rock rising about 190 feet above the adjacent
level of the town.[*] In form it is an irregular oval with its
axis west and east. It is about 950 feet long and 450 feet at its
greatest breadth. On every side but the west the precipice falls
away sheer and defiant, rendering a feeble garrison able to battle
with myriads.[+] To the westward, however, the gradual slope makes
a natural pathway always possible, and human art has long since
shaped this with convenient steps. Nestling in against the precipice
are various sanctuaries and caves; e.g. on the northwestern side,
high up on the slope beneath the precipice, open the uncanny grottoes
of Apollo and of Pan. On the southern side, close under the very
shadow of the citadel, is the temple of Asclepius, and, more to
the southeast, the great open theater of Dionysus has been scooped
out of the rock, a place fit to contain an audience of some 15,000.[&]
[*]It is nearly 510 feet above the level of the sea.
[+]Recall the defense which the Acropolis was able to make against
Xerxes's horde, when the garrison was small and probably ill
organized, and had only a wooden barricade to eke out the natural
defenses.
[&]The stone seats of this theater do not seem to have been built
till about 340 B.C. Up to that time the surface of the ground
sloping back to the Acropolis seems simply to have been smoothed
off, and probably covered with temporary wooden seats on the days
of the great dramatic festivals.
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