[937] Herod. ii. 116. δοκέει δέ μοι καὶ Ὅμηρος τὸν λόγον τοῦτον

πυθέσθαι· ἀλλ᾽ οὐ γὰρ ὁμοίως εὐπρεπὴς ἐς τὴν ἐποποιΐην ἦν τῷ

ἑτέρῳ τῷ περ ἐχρήσατο· ἑς ὃ μετῆκε αὐτὸν, δηλώσας ὡς καὶ τοῦτον

ἐπισταῖτο τὸν λόγον.

Herodotus then produces a passage from the Iliad, with a view to

prove that Homer knew of the voyage of Paris and Helen to Egypt;

but the passage proves nothing at all to the point.

Again (c. 120), his slender confidence in the epic poets breaks

out—εἰ χρή τι τοῖσι ἐποποιοῖσι χρεώμενον λέγειν.

It is remarkable that Herodotus is disposed to identify Helen

with the ξείνη Ἀφροδίτη whose temple he saw at Memphis (c. 112).

Enough has been said to show how wide is the difference between

Herodotus and the logographers with their literal transcript of the

ancient legends. Though he agrees with them in admitting the full

series of persons and generations, he tries the circumstances narrated

by a new standard. Scruples have arisen in his mind respecting

violations of the laws of nature: the poets are unworthy of trust, and

their narratives must be brought into conformity with historical and

ethical conditions, before they can be admitted as truth. To accomplish

this conformity, Herodotus is willing to mutilate the old legend in

one of its most vital points: he sacrifices the personal presence of

Helena in Troy, which ran through every one of the ancient epic poems

belonging to the Trojan cycle, and is indeed, under the gods, the great

and present moving force throughout.

Thucydidês places himself generally in the same point of view

as Herodotus with regard to mythical antiquity, yet with some

considerable differences. Though manifesting no belief in present

miracles or prodigies,[938] he seems to accept without reserve the

preexistent reality of all the persons mentioned in the mythes, and

of the long series of generations extending back through so many

supposed centuries: in this category, too, are included the eponymous

personages, Hellen, Kekrops, Eumolpus, Pandiôn, Amphilochus the son

of Amphiaräus, and Akarnan. But on the other hand, we find no trace

of that distinction between a human and an heroic ante-human race,

which Herodotus still admitted,—nor any respect for Egyptian legends.

Thucydidês, regarding the personages of the mythes as men of the same

breed and stature with his own contemporaries, not only tests the acts

imputed to them by the same limits of credibility, but presumes in them

the same political views and feelings as he was accustomed to trace in

the proceedings of Peisistratus or Periklês. He treats the Trojan war

as a great political enterprise, undertaken by all Greece; brought into

combination through the imposing power of Agamemnôn, not (according to

the legendary narrative) through the influence of the oath exacted by

Tyndareus. Then he explains how the predecessors of Agamemnôn arrived

at so vast a dominion—beginning with Pelops, who came over (as he

says) from Asia with great wealth among the poor Peloponnêsians, and

by means of this wealth so aggrandized himself, though a foreigner, as

to become the eponym of the peninsula. Next followed his son Atreus,

who acquired after the death of Eurystheus the dominion of Mykênæ,

which had before been possessed by the descendants of Perseus: here

the old legendary tale, which described Atreus as having been banished

by his father Pelops in consequence of the murder of his elder brother

Chrysippus, is invested with a political bearing, as explaining the

reason why Atreus retired to Mykênæ. Another legendary tale—the defeat

and death of Eurystheus by the fugitive Herakleids in Attica, so

celebrated in Attic tragedy as having given occasion to the generous

protecting intervention of Athens—is also introduced as furnishing the

cause why Atreus succeeded to the deceased Eurystheus: “for Atreus, the

maternal uncle of Eurystheus, had been entrusted by the latter with

his government during the expedition into Attica, and had effectually

courted the people, who were moreover in great fear of being attacked

by the Herakleids.” Thus the Pelopids acquired the supremacy in

Peloponnêsus, and Agamemnôn was enabled to get together his 1200 ships

and 100,000 men for the expedition against Troy. Considering that

contingents were furnished from every portion of Greece, Thucydidês

regards this as a small number, treating the Homeric catalogue as an

authentic muster-roll, perhaps rather exaggerated than otherwise. He

then proceeds to tell us why the armament was not larger: many more

men could have been furnished, but there was not sufficient money to

purchase provisions for their subsistence; hence they were compelled,

after landing and gaining a victory, to fortify their camp, to divide

their army, and to send away one portion for the purpose of cultivating

the Chersonese, and another portion to sack the adjacent towns. This

was the grand reason why the siege lasted so long as ten years. For

if it had been possible to keep the whole army together, and to act

with an undivided force, Troy would have been taken both earlier and at

smaller cost.[939]

[938] “Ut conquirere fabulosa (says Tacitus, Hist. ii. 50, a

worthy parallel of Thucydidês) et fictis oblectare legentium

animos, procul gravitate cœpti operis crediderim, ita vulgatis

traditisque demere fidem non ausim. Die, quo Bebriaci

certabatur, avem inusitatâ specie, apud Regium Lepidum celebri

vico consedisse, incolæ memorant; nec deinde cœtu hominum aut

circumvolitantium alitum, territam pulsamque, donec Otho se ipse

interficeret: tum ablatam ex oculis: et tempora reputantibus,

initium finemque miraculi cum Othonis exitu competisse.”

Suetonius (Vesp. 5) recounts a different miracle, in which three

eagles appear.

This passage of Tacitus occurs immediately after his magnificent

description of the suicide of the emperor Otho, a deed which he

contemplates with the most fervent admiration. His feelings were

evidently so wrought up that he was content to relax the canons

of historical credibility.

[939] Thucyd. i. 9-12.

Such is the general sketch of the war of Troy, as given by Thucydidês.

So different is it from the genuine epical narrative, that we seem

hardly to be reading a description of the same event; still less

should we imagine that the event was known, to him as well as to us,

only through the epic poets themselves. The men, the numbers, and the

duration of the siege, do indeed remain the same; but the cast and

juncture of events, the determining forces, and the characteristic

features, are altogether heterogeneous. But, like Herodotus, and

still more than Herodotus, Thucydidês was under the pressure of two

conflicting impulses—he shared the general faith in the mythical

antiquity, but at the same time he could not believe in any facts which

contradicted the laws of historical credibility or probability. He was

thus under the necessity of torturing the matter of the old mythes

into conformity with the subjective exigencies of his own mind: he

left out, altered, recombined, and supplied new connecting principles

and supposed purposes, until the story became such as no one could

have any positive reason for calling in question: though it lost the

impressive mixture of religion, romance, and individual adventure,

which constituted its original charm, it acquired a smoothness and

plausibility, and a poetical _ensemble_, which the critics were

satisfied to accept as historical truth. And historical truth it would

doubtless have been, if any independent evidence could have been found

to sustain it. Had Thucydidês been able to produce such new testimony,

we should have been pleased to satisfy ourselves that the war of Troy,

as he recounted it, was the real event; of which the war of Troy, as

sung by the epic poets, was a misreported, exaggerated, and ornamented

recital. But in this case the poets are the only real witnesses, and

the narrative of Thucydidês is a mere extract and distillation from

their incredibilities.

A few other instances may be mentioned to illustrate the views of

Thucydidês respecting various mythical incidents. 1. He treats the

residence of the Homeric Phæakians at Corkyra as an undisputed fact,

and employs it partly to explain the efficiency of the Korkyrean

navy in times preceding the Peloponnesian war.[940] 2. He notices,

with equal confidence, the story of Têreus and Proknê, daughter of

Pandiôn, and the murder of the child Itys by Proknê his mother, and

Philomêla; and he produces this ancient mythe with especial reference

to the alliance between the Athenians and Têrês, king of the Odrysian

Thracians, during the time of the Peloponnesian war, intimating that

the Odrysian Têrês was neither of the same family nor of the same

country as Têreus the husband of Proknê.[941] The conduct of Pandiôn,

in giving his daughter Proknê in marriage to Têreus, is in his view

dictated by political motives and interests. 3. He mentions the

Strait of Messina as the place through which Odysseus is said to have

sailed.[942] 4. The Cyclôpes and the Læstrygones (he says) were the

most ancient reported inhabitants of Sicily; but he cannot tell to what

race they belonged, nor whence they came.[943] 5. Italy derived its

name from Italus, king of the Sikels. 6. Eryx and Egesto in Sicily were

founded by fugitive Trojans after the capture of Troy; also Skionê,

in the Thracian peninsula of Pallênê, by Greeks from the Achæan town

of Pellênê, stopping thither in their return from the siege of Troy:

the Amphilochian Argos in the Gulf of Ambrakia was in like manner

founded by Amphilochus son of Amphiaräus, in his return from the

same enterprise. The remorse and mental derangement of the matricidal

Alkmæôn, son of Amphiaräus, is also mentioned by Thucydidês,[944] as

well as the settlement of his son Akarnan in the country called after

him Akarnania.[945]

[940] Thucyd. i. 25.

[941] Thucyd. ii. 29. Καὶ τὸ ἔργον τὸ περὶ τὸν Ἴτυν αἱ γυναῖκες

ἐν τῇ γῇ ταύτῃ ἔπραξαν· πολλοῖς δὲ καὶ τῶν ποιητῶν ἐν ἀηδόνος

μνήμῃ Δαυλιὰς ἡ ὄρνις ἐπωνόμασται. Εἰκὸς τε καὶ τὸ κῆδος Πανδίονα

ξυνάψασθαι τῆς θυγατρὸς διὰ τοσούτου, ἐπ᾽ ὠφελείᾳ τῇ πρὸς

ἀλλήλους, μᾶλλον ἢ διὰ πολλῶν ἡμερῶν ἐς Ὀδρύσας ὁδοῦ. The first

of these sentences would lead us to infer, if it came from any

other pen than that of Thucydidês, that the writer believed the

metamorphosis of Philomêla into a nightingale: see above, ch. xi.

p. 270.

The observation respecting the convenience of neighborhood for

the marriage is remarkable, and shows how completely Thucydidês

regarded the event as historical. What would he have said

respecting the marriage of Oreithyia, daughter of Erechtheus,

with Boreas, and the prodigious distance which she is reported

to have been carried by her husband? Ὑπέρ τε πόντον πάντ᾽, ἐπ᾽

ἔσχατα χθονὸς, etc. (Sophoklês ap. Strabo. vii. p. 295.)

From the way in which Thucydidês introduces the mention of this

event, we see that he intended to correct the misapprehension

of his countrymen, who having just made an alliance with the

Odrysian _Têrês_, were led by that circumstance to think of the

old mythical _Têreus_, and to regard him as the ancestor of

_Têrês_.

[942] Thucyd. iv. 24.

[943] Thucyd. vi. 2.

[944] Thucyd. ii. 68-102; iv. 120; vi. 2. Antiochus of Syracuse,

the contemporary of Thucydidês, also mentioned Italus as the

eponymous king of Italy: he farther named Sikelus, who came to

Morgos, son of Italus, after having been banished from Rome. He

talks about Italus, just as Thucydidês talks about Thêseus, as

a wise and powerful king, who first acquired a great dominion

(Dionys. H. A. R. i. 12, 35, 73). Aristotle also mentioned Italus

in the same general terms (Polit. vii. 9, 2).

[945] We may here notice some particulars respecting Isokratês.

He manifests entire confidence in the authenticity of the

mythical genealogies and chronology; but while he treats the

mythical personages as historically real, he regards them at the

same time not as human, but as half-gods, superior to humanity.

About Helena, Thêseus, Sarpêdôn, Cycnus, Memnôn, Achilles, etc.,

see Encom. Helen. Or. x. pp. 282, 292, 295. Bek. Helena was

worshipped in his time as a goddess at Therapnæ (_ib._ p. 295).

He recites the settlements of Danaus, Kadmus, and Pelops in

Greece, as undoubted historical facts (p. 297). In his discourse

called _Busiris_, he accuses Polykratês, the sophist, of a gross

anachronism, in having placed Busiris subsequent in point of date

to Orpheus and Æolus (Or. xi. p. 301, Bek.), and he adds that the

tale of Busiris having been slain by Hêraklês was chronologically

impossible (p. 309). Of the long Athenian genealogy from Kekrops

to Thêseus, he speaks with perfect historical confidence

(Panathenaic. p. 349, Bek.); not less so of the adventures

of Hêraklês and his mythical contemporaries, which he places

in the mouth of Archidamus as a justification of the Spartan

title to Messenia (Or. vi. _Archidamus_, p. 156, Bek.; compare

Or. v. _Philippus_, pp. 114, 138), φάσιν, οἷς περὶ τῶν παλαιῶν

πιστεύομεν, etc. He condemns the poets in strong language for

the wicked and dissolute tales which they circulated respecting

the gods: many of them (he says) had been punished for such

blasphemies by blindness, poverty, exile, and other misfortunes

(Or. xi. p. 309, Bek.).

In general, it may be said that Isokratês applies no principles

of historical criticism to the mythes; he rejects such as appear

to him discreditable or unworthy, and believes the rest.

Such are the special allusions made by this illustrious author in

the course of his history to mythical events. From the tenor of his

language we may see that he accounted all that could be known about

them to be uncertain and unsatisfactory; but he has it much at heart

to show, that even the greatest were inferior in magnitude and

importance to the Peloponnesian war.[946] In this respect his opinion

seems to have been at variance with that which was popular among his

contemporaries.

[946] Thucyd. i. 21-22.

The first two volumes of this history have been noticed in an

able article of the Quarterly Review, for October, 1846; as well

as in the Heidelberger Jahrbücher der Literatur (1846. No. 41.

pp. 641-655), by Professor Kortüm.

While expressing, on several points, approbation of my work, by

which I feel much flattered—both my English and my German critic

take partial objection to the views respecting Grecian legend.

While the Quarterly Reviewer contends that the mythopœic faculty

of the human mind, though essentially loose and untrustworthy,

is never creative, but requires some basis of fact to work

upon—Kortüm thinks that I have not done justice to Thucydidês,

as regards his way of dealing with legend; that I do not allow

sufficient weight to the authority of an historian so circumspect

and so cold-blooded (den kalt-blüthigsten und besonnensten

Historiker des Alterthums, p. 653) as a satisfactory voucher for

the early facts of Grecian history in his preface (Herr G. fehlt

also, wenn er das anerkannt kritische Proœmium als Gewährsmann

verschmäht, p. 654).

No man feels more powerfully than I do the merits of Thucydidês

as an historian, or the value of the example which he set in

multiplying critical inquiries respecting matters recent and

verifiable. But the ablest judge or advocate, in investigating

specific facts, can proceed no further than he finds witnesses

having the means of knowledge, and willing more or less to tell

truth. In reference to facts prior to 776 B. C., Thucydidês had

nothing before him except the legendary poets, whose credibility

is not at all enhanced by the circumstance that he accepted them

as witnesses, applying himself only to cut down and modify their

allegations. His credibility in regard to the specific facts of

these early times depends altogether upon theirs. Now we in our

day are in a better position for appreciating their credibility

than he was in his, since the foundations of historical evidence

are so much more fully understood, and good or bad materials

for history are open to comparison in such large extent and

variety. Instead of wondering that he shared the general faith

in such delusive guides—we ought rather to give him credit for

the reserve with which he qualified that faith, and for the sound

idea of historical possibility to which he held fast as the limit

of his confidence. But it is impossible to consider Thucydidês

as a _satisfactory guarantee_ (Gewährsmann) for matters of fact

which he derives only from such sources.

Professor Kortüm considers that I am inconsistent with myself

in refusing to discriminate particular matters of historical

fact among the legends—and yet in accepting these legends (in

my chap. xx.) as giving a faithful mirror of the general state

of early Grecian society (p. 653). It appears to me that this

is no inconsistency, but a real and important distinction.

Whether Hêraklês, Agamemnôn, Odysseus, etc. were real persons,

and performed all, or a part, of the possible actions ascribed

to them—I profess myself unable to determine. But even assuming

both the persons and their exploits to be fictions, these very

fictions will have been conceived and put together in conformity

to the general social phænomena among which the describer and

his hearers lived—and will thus serve as illustrations of the

manners then prevalent. In fact, the real value of the Preface

of Thucydidês, upon which Professor Kortüm bestows such just

praise, consists, not in the particular facts which he brings out

by altering the legends, but in the rational general views which

he sets forth respecting early Grecian society, and respecting

the steps as well as the causes whereby it attained its actual

position as he saw it.

Professor Kortüm also affirms that the mythes contain “real

matter of fact along with mere conceptions:” which affirmation is

the same as that of the Quarterly Reviewer, when he says that the

mythopœic faculty is not creative. Taking the mythes in the mass,

I doubt not that this is true, nor have I anywhere denied it.

Taking them one by one, I neither affirm nor deny it. My position

is, that, whether there be matter of fact or not, we have no

test whereby it can be singled out, identified, and severed from

the accompanying fiction. And it lies upon those, who proclaim

the practicability of such severance, to exhibit some means of

verification better than any which has been yet pointed out. If

Thucydidês has failed in doing this, it is certain that none of

the many authors who have made the same attempt after him have

been more successful.

It cannot surely be denied that the mythopœic faculty is

_creative_, when we have before us so many divine legends, not

merely in Greece, but in other countries also. To suppose that

these religious legends are mere exaggerations, etc. of some

basis of actual fact—that the gods of polytheism were merely

divinized men, with qualities distorted or feigned—would be to

embrace in substance the theory of Euêmerus.

To touch a little upon the later historians by whom these mythes were

handled, we find that Anaximenês of Lampsacus composed a consecutive

history of events, beginning from the Theogony down to the battle

of Mantineia.[947] But Ephorus professed to omit all the mythical

narratives which are referred to times anterior to the return of the

Herakleids, (such restriction would of course have banished the siege

of Troy,) and even reproved those who introduced mythes into historical

writing; adding, that everywhere truth was the object to be aimed

at.[948] Yet in practice he seems often to have departed from his own

rule.[949] Theopompus, on the other hand, openly proclaimed that he

could narrate fables in his history better than Herodotus, or Ktesias,

or Hellanikus.[950] The fragments which remain to us, exhibit some

proof that this promise was performed as to quantity;[951] though as

to his style of narration, the judgment of Dionysius is unfavorable.

Xenophôn ennobled his favorite amusement of the chase by numerous

examples chosen from the heroic world, tracing their portraits with all

the simplicity of an undiminished faith. Kallisthenês, like Ephorus,

professed to omit all mythes which referred to a time anterior to the

return of the Herakleids; yet we know that he devoted a separate book

or portion of his history to the Trojan war.[952] Philistus introduced

some mythes in the earlier portions of his Sicilian history; but Timæus

was distinguished above all others for the copious and indiscriminate

way in which he collected and repeated such legends.[953] Some of

these writers employed their ingenuity in transforming the mythical

circumstances into plausible matter of history: Ephorus, in particular,

converted the serpent Pythô, slain by Apollo, into a tyrannical

king.[954]

[947] Diodôr. xv. 89. He was a contemporary of Alexander the

Great.

[948] Diodôr. iv. 1. Strabo, ix. p. 422, ἐπιτιμήσας τοῖς

φιλομυθοῦσιν ἐν τῇ τῆς ἱστωρίας γραφῇ.

[949] Ephorus recounted the principal adventures of Hêraklês

(Fragm. 8, 9, ed. Marx.), the tales of Kadmus and Harmonia

(Fragm. 12), the banishment of Ætôlus from Elis (Fragm. 15;

Strabo, viii. p. 357); he drew inferences from the chronology of

the Trojan and Theban wars (Fragm. 28); he related the coming

of Dædalus to the Sikan king Kokalus, and the expedition of the

Amazons (Fragm. 99-103).

He was particularly copious in his information about κτίσεις,

ἀποικίαι and συγγενείαι (Polyb. ix. 1).

[950] Strabo, i. p. 74.

[951] Dionys. Halic. De Vett. Scriptt. Judic. p. 428, Reisk;

Ælian, V. H. iii. 18, Θεόπομπος ... δεινὸς μυθόλογος.

Theopompus affirmed, that the bodies of those who went into the

forbidden precinct (τὸ ἄβατον) of Zeus, in Arcadia, gave no

shadow (Polyb. xvi. 12). He recounted the story of Midas and

Silênus (Fragm. 74, 75, 76, ed. Wichers); he said a good deal

about the heroes of Troy; and he seems to have assigned the

misfortunes of the Νόστοι to an historical cause—the rottenness

of the Grecian ships, from the length of the siege, while the

genuine epic ascribes it to the anger of Athênê (Fragm. 112,

113, 114; Schol. Homer. Iliad, ii. 135); he narrated an alleged

expulsion of Kinyras from Cyprus by Agamemnôn (Fragm. 111);

he gave the genealogy of the Macedonian queen Olympias up to

Achilles and Æakus (Fragm. 232).

[952] Cicero, Epist. ad Familiar. v. 12; Xenophôn de Venation. c.

1.

[953] Philistus, Fragm. 1 (Göller), Dædalus, and Kokalus; about

Liber and Juno (Fragm. 57); about the migration of the Sikels

into Sicily, eighty years after the Trojan war (ap. Dionys. Hal.

i. 3).

Timæus (Fragm. 50, 51, 52, 53, Göller) related many fables

respecting Jasôn, Mêdea, and the Argonauts generally. The

miscarriage of the Athenian armament under Nikias, before

Syracuse, is imputed to the anger of Hêraklês against the

Athenians because they came to assist the Egestans, descendants

of Troy (Plutarch, Nikias, 1),—a naked reproduction of genuine

epical agencies by an historian; also about Diomêdês and the

Daunians; Phaëthôn and the river Eridanus; the combats of the

Gigantes in the Phlegræan plains (Fragm. 97, 99, 102).

[954] Strabo, ix. p. 422.

But the author who pushed this transmutation of legend into history

to the greatest length, was the Messenian Euêmerus, contemporary of

Kassander of Macedôn. He melted down in this way the divine persons

and legends, as well as the heroic—representing both gods and heroes

as having been mere earth-born men, though superior to the ordinary

level in respect of force and capacity, and deified or heroified

after death as a recompense for services or striking exploits. In

the course of a voyage into the Indian sea, undertaken by command of

Kassander, Euêmerus professed to have discovered a fabulous country

called Panchaia, in which was a temple of the Triphylian Zeus: he there

described a golden column, with an inscription purporting to have been

put up by Zeus himself, and detailing his exploits while on earth.[955]

Some eminent men, among whom may be numbered Polybius, followed the

views of Euêmerus, and the Roman poet Ennius[956] translated his

Historia Sacra; but on the whole he never acquired favor, and the

unblushing inventions which he put into circulation were of themselves

sufficient to disgrace both the author and his opinions. The doctrine

that all the gods had once existed as mere men offended the religious

pagans, and drew upon Euêmerus the imputation of atheism; but, on the

other hand, it came to be warmly espoused by several of the Christian

assailants of paganism,—by Minucius Felix, Lactantius, and St.

Augustin, who found the ground ready prepared for them in their efforts

to strip Zeus and the other pagan gods of the attributes of deity. They

believed not only in the main theory, but also in the copious details

of Euêmerus; and the same man whom Strabo casts aside as almost a

proverb for mendacity, was extolled by them as an excellent specimen

of careful historical inquiry.[957]

[955] Compare Diodôr. v. 44-46; and Lactantius, De Falsâ Relig.

i. 11.

[956] Cicero, De Naturâ Deor. i. 42; Varro, De Re Rust. i. 48.

[957] Strabo, ii. p. 102. Οὐ πολὺ οὖν λείπεται ταῦτα τῶν Πύθεω

καὶ Εὐημέρου καὶ Ἀντιφάνους ψευσμάτων; compare also i. p. 47, and

ii. p. 104.

St. Augustin, on the contrary, tells us (Civitat. Dei, vi. 7),

“Quid de ipse Jove senserunt, qui nutricem ejus in Capitolio

posuerunt? Nonne attestati sunt omnes Euemero, qui non fabulosâ

garrulitate, sed _historicâ diligentiâ_, homines fuisse

mortalesque conscripsit?” And Minucius Felix (Octav. 20-21),

“Euemerus exequitur Deorum natales: patrias, sepulcra dinumerat,

et per provincias monstrat, Dictæi Jovis, et Apollinis Delphici,

et Phariæ Isidis, et Cereris Eleusiniæ.” Compare Augustin, Civit.

Dei, xviii. 8-14; and Clemens Alexand. Cohort. ad Gent. pp.

15-18, Sylb.

Lactantius (De Falsâ Relig. c. 13, 14, 16) gives copious

citations from Ennius’s translation of the Historia Sacra of

Euêmerus.

Εὐήμερος, ὁ ἐπικληθεὶς ἄθεος, Sextus Empiricus, adv. Physicos,

ix. § 17-51. Compare Cicero, De Nat. Deor. i. 42; Plutarch, De

Iside et Osiride, c. 23. tom. ii. p. 475, ed. Wytt.

Nitzsch assumes (Helden Sage der Griechen, sect. 7. p. 84) that

the voyage of Euêmerus to Panchaia was intended only as an

amusing romance, and that Strabo, Polybius, Eratosthenês and

Plutarch were mistaken in construing it as a serious recital.

Böttiger, in his Kunst-Mythologie der Griechen (Absch. ii. s. 6.

p. 190), takes the same view. But not the least reason is given

for adopting this opinion, and it seems to me far-fetched and

improbable; Lobeck (Aglaopham. p. 989), though Nitzsch alludes to

him as holding it, manifests no such tendency, as far as I can

observe.

But though the pagan world repudiated that “lowering tone of

explanation,” which effaced the superhuman personality of Zeus and the

great gods of Olympus, the mythical persons and narratives generally

came to be surveyed more and more from the point of view of history,

and subjected to such alterations as might make them look more like

plausible matter of fact. Polybius, Strabo, Diodôrus, and Pausanias,

cast the mythes into historical statements—with more or less of

transformation, as the case may require, assuming always that there

is a basis of truth, which may be discovered by removing poetical

exaggerations and allowing for mistakes. Strabo, in particular, lays

down that principle broadly and unequivocally in his remarks upon

Homer. To give pure fiction, without any foundation of fact, was in his

judgment utterly unworthy of so great a genius; and he comments with

considerable acrimony on the geographer Eratosthenês, who maintains the

opposite opinion. Again, Polybius tells us that the Homeric Æolus, the

dispenser of the winds by appointment from Zeus, was in reality a man

eminently skilled in navigation, and exact in predicting the weather;

that the Cyclôpes and Læstrygones were wild and savage real men in

Sicily; and that Scylla and Charybdis were a figurative representation

of dangers arising from pirates in the Strait of Messina. Strabo speaks

of the amazing expeditions of Dionysus and Hêraklês, and of the long

wanderings of Jasôn, Menelaus, and Odysseus, in the same category

with the extended commercial range of the Phœnician merchant-ships:

he explains the report of Thêseus and Peirithöus having descended to

Hadês, by their dangerous earthly pilgrimages,—and the invocation

of the Dioskuri as the protectors of the imperiled mariner, by the

celebrity which they had acquired as real men and navigators.

Diodôrus gave at considerable length versions of the current fables

respecting the most illustrious names in the Grecian mythical world,

compiled confusedly out of distinct and incongruous authors. Sometimes

the mythe is reproduced in its primitive simplicity, but for the most

part it is partially, and sometimes wholly, historicized. Amidst this

jumble of dissentient authorities we can trace little of a systematic

view, except the general conviction that there was at the bottom of

the mythes a real chronological sequence of persons, and real matter

of fact, historical or ultra-historical. Nevertheless, there are

some few occasions on which Diodôrus brings us back a step nearer

to the point of view of the old logographers. For, in reference to

Hêraklês, he protests against the scheme of cutting down the mythes

to the level of present reality, and contends that a special standard

of ultra-historical credibility ought to be constituted, so as to

include the mythe in its native dimensions, and do fitting honor to

the grand, beneficent, and superhuman personality of Hêraklês and

other heroes or demi-gods. To apply to such persons the common measure

of humanity (he says), and to cavil at the glorious picture which

grateful man has drawn of them, is at once ungracious and irrational.

All nice criticism into the truth of the legendary narratives is

out of place: we show our reverence to the god by acquiescing in

the incredibilities of his history, and we must be content with the

best guesses which we can make, amidst the inextricable confusion

and numberless discrepancies which they present.[958] Yet though

Diodôrus here exhibits a preponderance of the religious sentiment over

the purely historical point of view, and thus reminds us of a period

earlier than Thucydidês—he in another place inserts a series of stories

which seem to be derived from Euêmerus, and in which Uranus, Kronus,

and Zeus appear reduced to the character of human kings celebrated

for their exploits and benefactions.[959] Many of the authors, whom

Diodôrus copies, have so entangled together Grecian, Asiatic, Egyptian,

and Libyan fables, that it becomes impossible to ascertain how much of

this heterogeneous mass can be considered as at all connected with the

genuine Hellenic mind.

[958] Diodôr. iv. 1-8. Ἔνιοι γὰρ τῶν ἀναγινωσκόντων, οὐ

δικαίᾳ χρώμενοι κρίσει, τἀκριβὲς ἐπιζητοῦσιν ἐν ταῖς ἀρχαίαις

μυθολογίαις, ἐπίσης τοῖς πραττομένοις ἐν τῷ καθ᾽ ἡμᾶς χρόνῳ, καὶ

τὰ δισταζόμενα τῶν ἔργων διὰ τὸ μέγεθος, ἐκ τοῦ καθ᾽ αὑτοὺς βίου

τεκμαιρόμενοι, τὴν Ἡρακλέους δύναμιν ἐκ τῆς ἀσθενείας τῶν νῦν

ἀνθρώπων θεωροῦσιν, ὥστε διὰ τὴν ὑπερβολὴν τοῦ μεγέθους τῶν ἔργων

ἀπιστεῖσθαι τὴν γραφήν. Καθόλου γὰρ ἐν ταῖς ἀρχαίαις μυθολογίαις

οὐκ ἐκ παντὸς τρόπου ~πικρῶς τὴν ἀλήθειαν ἐξεταστέον~. Καὶ γὰρ ἐν

τοῖς θεάτροις ~πεπεισμένοι μήτε Κενταύρους~ διφυεῖς ἐξ ἑτερογενῶν

σωμάτων ὑπάρξαι, μήτε Γηρυόνην τρισώματον, ~ὅμως προσδεχόμεθα τὰς

τοιαύτας μυθολογίας~, καὶ ~ταῖς ἐπισημασίαις συναύξομεν τὴν τοῦ

θεοῦ τιμήν~. Καὶ γὰρ ἄτοπον, Ἡρακλέα μὲν ἔτι κατ᾽ ἀνθρώπους ὄντα

τοῖς ἰδίοις πόνοις ἐξημερῶσαι τὴν οἰκουμένην, τοὺς δ᾽ ἀνθρώπους,

ἐπιλαθομένους τῆς κοινῆς εὐεργεσίας, ~συκοφαντεῖν~ τὸν ἐπὶ τοῖς

καλλίστοις ἔργοις ἔπαινον, etc.

This is a remarkable passage: first, inasmuch as it sets forth

the total inapplicability of analogies drawn from the historical

past as narratives about Hêraklês; next, inasmuch as it suspends

the employment of critical and scientific tests, and invokes an

acquiescence interwoven and identified with the feelings, as the

proper mode of evincing pious reverence for the god Hêraklês.

It aims at reproducing exactly that state of mind to which the

mythes were addressed, and with which alone they could ever be in

thorough harmony.

[959] Diodôr. iii. 45-60; v. 44-46.

Pausanias is far more strictly Hellenic in his view of the Grecian

mythes than Diodôrus: his sincere piety makes him inclined to faith

generally with regard to the mythical narratives, but subject

nevertheless to the frequent necessity of historicizing or allegorizing

them. His belief in the general reality of the mythical history and

chronology is complete, in spite of the many discrepancies which he

finds in it, and which he is unable to reconcile.

Another author who seems to have conceived clearly, and applied

consistently, the semi-historical theory of the Grecian mythes, is

Palæphatus, of whose work what appears to be a short abstract has been

preserved.[960] In the short preface of this treatise “concerning

Incredible Tales,” he remarks, that some men, from want of instruction,

believe all the current narratives; while others, more searching and

cautious, disbelieve them altogether. Each of these extremes he is

anxious to avoid. On the one hand, he thinks that no narrative could

ever have acquired credence unless it had been founded in truth;

on the other, it is impossible for him to accept so much of the

existing narratives as conflicts with the analogies of present natural

phænomena. If such things ever had been, they would still continue to

be—but they never have so occurred; and the extra-analogical features

of the stories are to be ascribed to the license of the poets.

Palæphatus wishes to adopt a middle course, neither accepting all nor

rejecting all: accordingly, he had taken great pains to separate the

true from the false in many of the narratives; he had visited the

localities wherein they had taken place, and made careful inquiries

from old men and others.[961] The results of his researches are

presented in a new version of fifty legends, among the most celebrated

and the most fabulous, comprising the Centaurs, Pasiphaê, Aktæôn,

Kadmus and the Sparti, the Sphinx, Cycnus, Dædalus, the Trojan horse,

Æolus, Scylla, Geryôn, Bellerophôn, etc.

[960] The work of Palæphatus, probably this original, is alluded

to in the _Ciris_ of Virgil (88):—

“Docta Palæphatiâ testatur voce papyrus.”

The date of Palæphatus is unknown—indeed this passage of the

_Ciris_ seems the only ground that there is for inference

respecting it. That which we now possess is probably an extract

from a larger work—made by another person at some later time: see

Vossius de Historicis Græcis, p. 478, ed. Westermann.

[961] Palæphat. init. ap. Script. Mythogr. ed. Westermann, p.

268. Τῶν ἀνθρώπων οἱ μὲν πείθονται πᾶσι τοῖς λεγομένοις, ὡς

ἀνομίλητοι σοφίας καὶ ἐπιστήμης—οἱ δὲ πυκνότεροι τὴν φύσιν καὶ

πολυπράγμονες ἀπιστοῦσι τὸ παράπαν μηδὲν γενέσθαι τούτων. Ἐμοὶ δὲ

δοκεῖ γενέσθαι πάντα τὰ λεγόμενα· ... γενόμενα δέ τινα οἱ ποιηταὶ

καὶ λογογράφοι παρέτρεψαν εἰς τὸ ἀπιστότερον καὶ θαυμασιώτερον

τοῦ θαυμάζειν ἕνεκα τοὺς ἀνθρώπους. Ἐγὼ δὲ γινώσκω, ὅτι οὐ

δύναται τὰ τοιαῦτα εἶναι οἷα καὶ λέγεται· τοῦτο δὲ καὶ διείληφα,

ὅτι εἰ μὴ ἐγένετο, οὐκ ἄν ἐλέγετο.

The main assumption of the semi-historical theory is here shortly

and clearly stated.

One of the early Christian writers, Minucius Felix, is astonished

at the easy belief of his pagan forefathers in miracles. If ever

such things had been done in former times (he affirms), they

would continue to be done now; as they cannot be done now, we may

be sure that they never were _really_ done formerly (Minucius

Felix, Octav. c. 20): “Majoribus enim nostris tam facilis in

mendaciis fides fuit, ut temerè crediderint etiam alia monstruosa

mira miracula, Scyllam multiplicem, Chimæram multiformem, Hydram,

et Centauros. Quid illas aniles fabulas—de hominibus aves, et

feras homines, et de hominibus arbores atque flores? _Quæ, si

essent facta, fierent; quia fieri non possunt, ideo nec facta

sunt._”

It must be confessed that Palæphatus has performed his promise of

transforming the “incredibilia” into narratives in themselves plausible

and unobjectionable, and that in doing so he always follows some

thread of analogy, real or verbal. The Centaurs (he tells us) were a

body of young men from the village of Nephelê in Thessaly, who first

trained and mounted horses for the purpose of repelling a herd of bulls

belonging to Ixiôn king of the Lapithæ, which had run wild and done

great damage: they pursued these wild bulls on horseback, and pierced

them with their spears, thus acquiring both the name of _Prickers_

(κέντορες) and the imputed attribute of joint body with the horse.

Aktæôn was an Arcadian, who neglected the cultivation of his land for

the pleasures of hunting, and was thus eaten up by the expense of

his hounds. The dragon whom Kadmus killed at Thêbes, was in reality

Drako, king of Thêbes; and the dragon’s teeth which he was said to

have sown, and from whence sprung a crop of armed men, were in point

of fact elephants’ teeth, which Kadmus as a rich Phœnician had brought

over with him: the sons of Drako sold these elephants’ teeth and

employed the proceeds to levy troops against Kadmus. Dædalus, instead

of flying across the sea on wings, had escaped from Krête in a swift

sailing-boat under a violent storm: Kottus, Briareus, and Gygês were

not persons with one hundred hands, but inhabitants of the village of

Hekatoncheiria in Upper Macedonia, who warred with the inhabitants of

Mount Olympus against the Titans: Scylla, whom Odysseus so narrowly

escaped, was a fastsailing piratical vessel, as was also Pegasus, the

alleged winged horse of Bellerophôn.[962]

[962] Palæphat. Narrat. 1, 3, 6, 13, 20, 21, 29. Two short

treatises on the same subject as this of Palæphatus, are printed

along with it, both in the collection of Gale and of Westermann;

the one, _Heracliti de Incredibilibus_, the other _Anonymi de

Incredibilibus_. They both profess to interpret some of the

extraordinary or miraculous mythes, and proceed in a track not

unlike that of Palæphatus. Scylla was a beautiful courtezan,

surrounded with abominable parasites: she ensnared and ruined

the companions of Odysseus, though he himself was prudent enough

to escape her (Heraclit. c. 2. p. 313, West.) Atlas was a great

astronomer: Pasiphaê fell in love with a youth named Taurus; the

monster called the Chimæra was in reality a ferocious queen, who

had two brothers called Leo and Drako; the ram which carried

Phryxus and Hellê across the Ægean was a boatman named Krias

(Heraclit. c. 2, 6, 15, 24).

A great number of similar explanations are scattered throughout

the Scholia on Homer and the Commentary of Eustathius, without

specification of their authors.

Theôn considers such resolution of fable into plausible history

as a proof of surpassing ingenuity (Progymnasmata, cap. 6, ap.

Walz. Coll. Rhett. Græc. i. p. 219). Others among the Rhetors,

too, exercised their talents sometimes in vindicating, sometimes

in controverting, the probability of the ancient mythes. See the

Progymnasmata of Nicolaus—Κατασκευὴ ὅτι εἰκότα τὰ κατὰ Νιόβην,

Ἀνασκευὴ ὅτι οὐκ εἰκότα τὰ κατὰ Νιόβην (ap. Walz. Coll. Rhetor.

i. p. 284-318), where there are many specimens of this fanciful

mode of handling.

Plutarch, however, in one of his treatises, accepts Minotaurs,

Sphinxes, Centaurs, etc. as realities; he treats them as products

of the monstrous, incestuous, and ungovernable lusts of man,

which he contrasts with the simple and moderate passions of

animals (Plutarch, Gryllus, p. 990).

By such ingenious conjectures, Palæphatus eliminates all the incredible

circumstances, and leaves to us a string of tales perfectly credible

and commonplace, which we should readily believe, provided a very

moderate amount of testimony could be produced in their favor. If his

treatment not only disenchants the original mythes, but even effaces

their generic and essential character, we ought to remember that this

is not more than what is done by Thucydidês in his sketch of the

Trojan war. Palæphatus handles the mythes consistently, according to

the semi-historical theory, and his results exhibit the maximum which

that theory can ever present. By aid of conjecture, we get out of the

impossible, and arrive at matters intrinsically plausible, but totally

uncertified; beyond this point we cannot penetrate, without the light

of extrinsic evidence, since there is no intrinsic mark to distinguish

truth from plausible fiction.[963]

[963] The learned Mr. Jacob Bryant regards the explanations of

Palæphatus as if they were founded upon real fact. He admits,

for example, the city Nephelê alleged by that author in his

exposition of the fable of the Centaurs. Moreover, he speaks with

much commendation of Palæphatus generally: “He (Palæphatus) wrote

early, and seems to have been a serious and sensible person; one

who saw the absurdity of the fables upon which the theology of

his country was founded.” (Ancient Mythology, vol. i. p. 411-435.)

So also Sir Thomas Brown (Enquiry into Vulgar Errors, Book I.

chap. vi. p. 221, ed. 1835) alludes to Palæphatus as having

incontestably pointed out the real basis of the fables. “And

surely the fabulous inclination of those days was greater than

any since; which swarmed so with fables, and from such slender

grounds took hints for fictions, poisoning the world ever

after: wherein how far they succeeded, may be exemplified from

Palæphatus, in his Book of Fabulous Narrations.”

It remains that we should notice the manner in which the ancient

mythes were received and dealt with by the philosophers. The earliest

expression which we hear, on the part of philosophy, is the severe

censure bestowed upon them on ethical grounds by Xenophanês of

Kolophôn, and seemingly by some others of his contemporaries.[964]

It was apparently in reply to such charges, which did not admit of

being directly rebutted, that Theagenês of Rhêgium (about 520 B. C.)

first started the idea of a double meaning in the Homeric and Hesiodic

narratives,—an interior sense, different from that which the words

in their obvious meaning bore, yet to a certain extent analogous,

and discoverable by sagacious divination. Upon this principle, he

allegorized especially the battle of the gods in the Iliad.[965] In

the succeeding century, Anaxagoras and Metrodôrus carried out the

allegorical explanation more comprehensively and systematically;

the former representing the mythical personages as mere mental

conceptions, invested with name and gender, and illustrative of ethical

precepts,—the latter connecting them with physical principles and

phænomena. Metrodôrus resolved not only the persons of Zeus, Hêrê,

and Athênê, but also those of Agamemnôn, Achilles, and Hectôr, into

various elemental combinations and physical agencies, and treated

the adventures ascribed to them as natural facts concealed under the

veil of allegory.[966] Empedoklês, Prodikus, Antisthenês, Parmenidês,

Hêrakleidês of Pontus, and in a later age, Chrysippus, and the Stoic

philosophers generally,[967] followed more or less the same principle

of treating the popular gods as allegorical personages; while the

expositors of Homer (such as Stesimbrotus, Glaukôn, and others, even

down to the Alexandrine age), though none of them proceeded to the same

extreme length as Metrodôrus, employed allegory amongst other media

of explanation for the purpose of solving difficulties, or eluding

reproaches against the poet.

[964] Xenophan. ap. Sext. Empir. adv. Mathemat. ix. 193. He also

disapproved of the rites, accompanied by mourning and wailing,

with which the Eleatês worshipped Leukothea: he told them, εἰ

μὲν θεὸν ὑπολαμβάνουσι, μὴ θρηνεῖν· εἰ δὲ ἄνθρωπον, μὴ θύειν

(Aristotel. Rhet. ii. 23).

Xenophanês pronounced the battles of the Titans, Gigantes, and

Centaurs to be “fictions of our predecessors,” πλάσματα τῶν

προτέρων (Xenophan. Fragm. 1. p. 42, ed. Schneidewin).

See a curious comparison of the Grecian and Roman theology in

Dionys. Halicarn. Ant. Rom. ii. 20.

[965] Schol. Iliad. xx. 67: Tatian. adv. Græc. c. 48. Hêrakleitus

indignantly repelled the impudent atheists who found fault

with the divine mythes of the Iliad, ignorant of their true

allegorical meaning: ἡ τῶν ἐπιφυομένων τῷ Ὁμήρῳ τόλμα τοὺς Ἥρας

δεσμοὺς αἰτιᾶται, καὶ νομίζουσιν ὕλην τινα δαψιλῆ τῆς ἀθέου πρὸς

Ὅμηρον ἔχειν μανίας ταῦτα—Ἦ οὐ μέμνῃ ὅτι τ᾽ ἐκρέμω ὑψόθεν, etc.

λέληθε δ᾽ αὐτοὺς ὅτι τούτοις τοῖς ἔπεσιν ἐκτεθεολόγηται ἡ τοῦ

παντὸς γένεσις, καὶ τὰ συνεχῶς ᾀδόμενα τέσσαρα στοιχεῖα τούτων

τῶν στίχων ἐστὶ τάξις (Schol. ad Hom. Iliad. xv. 18).

[966] Diogen. Laërt. ii. 11; Tatian. adv. Græc. c. 37; Hesychius,

v. Ἀγαμέμνονα. See the ethical turn given to the stories of

Circê, the Sirens, and Scylla, in Xenoph. Memorab. i. 3, 7;

ii. 6, 11-31. Syncellus, Chronic. p. 149. Ἑρμηνεύουσι δὲ οἱ

Ἀναξαγόρειοι τοὺς μυθώδεις θεοὺς, νοῦν μὲν τὸν Δία, τὴν δὲ Ἀθηνᾶν

τέχνην, etc.

Uschold and other modern German authors seem to have adopted

in its full extent the principle of interpretation proposed by

Metrodorus—treating Odysseus and Penelopê as personifications of

the Sun and Moon, etc. See Helbig, Die Sittlichen Zustände des

Griechischen Helden Alters, Einleitung, p. xxix. (Leipzig, 1839.)

Corrections of the Homeric text were also resorted to, in order

to escape the necessity of imputing falsehood to Zeus (Aristotel.

De Sophist. Elench. c. 4).

[967] Sextus Empiric. ix. 18; Diogen. viii. 76; Plutarch, De

Placit. Philosoph. i. 3-6; De Poesi Homericâ, 92-126; De Stoicor.

Repugn. p. 1050, Menander, De Encomiis, c. 5.

Cicero, De Nat. Deor. i. 14, 15, 16, 41; ii. 24-25. “Physica

ratio non inelegans inclusa in impias fabulas.”

In the _Bacchæ_ of Euripidês, Pentheus is made to deride the tale

of the motherless infant Dionysus having been sewn into the thigh

of Zeus. Teiresias, while reproving him for his impiety, explains

the story away in a sort of allegory: the μηρὸς Διὸς (he says)

was a mistaken statement in place of the αἰθὴρ χθόνα ἐγκυλούμενος

(Bacch. 235-290).

Lucretius (iii. 995-1036) allegorizes the conspicuous sufferers

in Hadês,—Tantalus, Sisyphus, Tityus, and the Danaïds, as well

as the ministers of penal infliction, Cerberus and the Furies.

The first four are emblematic descriptions of various defective

or vicious characters in human nature,—the deisidæmonic, the

ambitious, the amorous, or the insatiate and querulous man; the

last two represent the mental terrors of the wicked.

In the days of Plato and Zenophôn, this allegorizing interpretation

was one of the received methods of softening down the obnoxious

mythes—though Plato himself treated it as an insufficient defence,

seeing that the bulk of youthful hearers could not see through the

allegory, but embraced the story literally as it was set forth.[968]

Pausanias tells us, that when he first began to write his work,

he treated many of the Greek legends as silly and undeserving of

serious attention; but as he proceeded, he gradually arrived at the

full conviction, that the ancient sages had designedly spoken in

enigmatical language, and that there was valuable truth wrapped up in

their narratives: it was the duty of a pious man, therefore, to study

and interpret, but not to reject, stories current and accredited

respecting the gods.[969] And others,—arguing from the analogy of the

religious mysteries, which could not be divulged without impiety to any

except such as had been specially admitted and initiated,—maintained

that it would be a profanation to reveal directly to the vulgar, the

genuine scheme of nature and the divine administration: the ancient

poets and philosophers had taken the only proper course, of talking

to the many in types and parables, and reserving the naked truth for

privileged and qualified intelligences.[970] The allegorical mode of

explaining the ancient fables[971] became more and more popular in

the third and fourth centuries after the Christian æra, especially

among the new Platonic philosophers; being both congenial to their

orientalized turn of thought, and useful as a shield against the

attacks of the Christians.

[968] Οἱ νῦν περὶ Ὅμηρον δεινοί—so Plato calls these interpreters

(Kratylus, p. 407); see also Xenoph. Sympos. iii. 6; Plato,

Ion. p. 530; Plutarch, De Audiend. Poet. p. 19. ὑπόνοια was the

original word, afterwards succeeded by ἀλληγορία.

Ἥρας δὲ δεσμοὺς καὶ Ἡφαίστου ῥίψεις ὑπὸ πατρὸς, μέλλοντος τῇ

μητρὶ τυπτομένῃ ἀμυνεῖν, καὶ θεομαχίας ὅσας Ὅμηρος πεποίηκεν, οὐ

παραδεκτέον εἰς τὴν πόλιν, ~οὔτ᾽ ἐν ὑπονοίαις πεποιημένας, οὔτ᾽

ἄνευ ὑπονοιῶν~. Ὁ γὰρ νέος οὐχ οἷός τε κρίνειν ὅ,τι τε ὑπόνοια

καὶ ὃ μὴ, ἀλλ᾽ ἃ ἂν τηλικοῦτος ὢν λάβῃ ἐν ταῖς δόξαις, δυσέκνιπτά

τε καὶ ἀμετάστατα φιλεῖ γίγνεσθαι (Plato, Republ. ii. 17. p. 378).

The idea of an interior sense and concealed purpose in the

ancient poets occurs several times in Plato (Theætet. c. 93. p.

180): παρὰ μὲν τῶν ἀρχαίων, μετὰ ποιήσεως ἐπικρυπτομένων τοὺς

πολλοὺς, etc.; also Protagor. c. 20. p. 316.

“Modo Stoicum Homerum faciunt,—modo Epicureum,—modo

Peripateticum,—modo Academicum. Apparet nihil horum esse in illo,

quia omnia sunt.” (Seneca, Ep. 88.) Compare Plutarch, De Defectu

Oracul. c. 11-12. t. ii. p. 702, Wytt., and Julian, Orat. vii. p.

216.

[969] Pausan. viii. 8, 2. To the same purpose (Strabo, x. p.

474), allegory is admitted to a certain extent in the fables

by Dionys. Halic. Ant. Rom. ii. 20. The fragment of the lost

treatise of Plutarch, on the Platæan festival of the Dædala, is

very instructive respecting Grecian allegory (Fragm. ix. t. 5. p.

754-763, ed. Wyt.; ap. Euseb. Præpar. Evang. iii. 1).

[970] This doctrine is set forth in Macrobius (i. 2). He

distinguishes between _fabula_ and _fabulosa narratio_:

the former is fiction pure, intended either to amuse or to

instruct—the latter is founded upon truth, either respecting

human or respecting divine agency. The gods did not like to

be publicly talked of (according to his view) except under

the respectful veil of a fable (the same feeling as that of

Herodotus, which led him to refrain from inserting the ἱεροὶ

λόγοι in his history). The supreme god, the τἀγαθὸν, the πρῶτον

αἴτιον, could not be talked of in fables: but the other gods,

the aërial or æthereal powers and the soul, might be, and

ought to be, talked of in that manner alone. Only superior

intellects ought to be admitted to a knowledge of the secret

reality. “De Diis cæteris, et de animâ, non frustra se, nec ut

oblectent, ad fabulosa convertunt; sed quia sciunt _inimicam

esse naturæ apertam nudamque expositionem sui_: quæ sicut

vulgaribus sensibus hominum intellectum sui, vario rerum tegmine

operimentoque, subtraxit; ita à prudentibus arcana sua voluit

per fabulosa tractari.... Adeo semper ita se et sciri et coli

numina maluerunt, qualiter in vulgus antiquitus fabulata est....

Secundum hæc Pythagoras ipse atque Empedocles, Parmenides quoque

et Heraclides, de Diis fabulati sunt: nec secus Timæus.” Compare

also Maximus Tyrius, Dissert. x. and xxxii. Arnobius exposes the

allegorical interpretation as mere evasion, and holds the Pagans

to literal historical fact (Adv. Gentes, v. p. 185, ed. Elm.).

Respecting the allegorical interpretation applied to the Greek

fables, Böttiger (Die Kunst—Mythologie der Griechen, Abschn. ii.

p. 176); Nitzsch (Heldensage der Griech. sect. 6. p. 78); Lobeck

(Aglaopham. p. 133-155).

[971] According to the anonymous writer ap. Westermann (Script.

Myth. p. 328), every personal or denominated god may be construed

in three different ways: either πραγματικῶς (historically, as

having been a king or a man)—or ψυχικῶς, in which theory Hêrê

signifies the soul; Athênê, _prudence_; Aphroditê, _desire_;

Zeus, _mind_, etc.—or στοιχειακῶς, in which system Apollo

signifies the _sun_; Poseidôn, the _sea_; Hêrê, the upper stratum

of the air, or _æther_; Athênê, the lower or denser stratum;

Zeus, the upper hemisphere; Kronus, the lower, etc. This writer

thinks that all the three principles of construction may be

resorted to, each on its proper occasion, and that neither of

them excludes the others. It will be seen that the first is pure

Euêmerism; the two latter are modes of allegory.

The allegorical construction of the gods and of the divine

mythes is copiously applied in the treatises, both of Phurnutus

and Sallustius, in Gale’s collection of mythological writers.

Sallustius treats the mythes as of divine origin, and the chief

poets as inspired (θεόληπτοι): the gods were propitious to those

who recounted worthy and creditable mythes respecting them, and

Sallustius prays that they will accept with favor his own remarks

(cap. 3 and 4. pp. 245-251, Gale). He distributes mythes into

five classes; theological, physical, spiritual, material, and

mixed. He defends the practice of speaking of the gods under

the veil of allegory, much in the same way as Macrobius (in the

preceding note): he finds, moreover, a good excuse even for

those mythes which imputed to the gods theft, adultery, outrages

towards a father, and other enormities: such tales (he says) were

eminently suitable, since the mind _must at once see_ that the

facts as told are _not_ to be taken as being themselves the real

truth, but simply as a veil, disguising some interior truth (p.

247).

Besides the Life of Homer ascribed to Plutarch (see Gale, p.

325-332), Hêraclidês (_not_ Hêraclidês of Pontus) carries out the

process of allegorizing the Homeric mythes most earnestly and

most systematically. The application of the allegorizing theory

is, in his view, the only way of rescuing Homer from the charge

of scandalous impiety—πάντῃ γὰρ ἠσέβησεν, εἰ μηδὲν ἠλληγόρησεν

(Hêrac. _in init._ p. 407, Gale). He proves at length, that the

destructive arrows of Apollo, in the first book of the Iliad,

mean nothing at the bottom except a contagious plague, caused

by the heat of the summer sun in marshy ground (pp. 416-424).

Athênê, who darts down from Olympus at the moment when Achilles

is about to draw his sword on Agamemnôn, and seizes him by the

hair, is a personification of repentant prudence (p. 435). The

conspiracy against Zeus, which Homer (Iliad, i. 400) relates to

have been formed by the Olympic gods, and defeated by the timely

aid of Thetis and Briareus—the chains and suspension imposed upon

Hêrê—the casting of Hêphæstos by Zeus out of Olympus, and his

fall in Lêmnus—the destruction of the Grecian wall by Poseidôn,

after the departure of the Greeks—the amorous scene between Zeus

and Hêrê on Mount Gargarus—the distribution of the universe

between Zeus, Poseidôn, and Hadês—all these he resolves into

peculiar manifestations and conflicts of the elemental substances

in nature. To the much-decried battle of the gods, he gives a

turn partly physical, partly ethical (p. 481). In like manner,

he transforms and vindicates the adventures of the gods in the

Odyssey: the wanderings of Odysseus, together with the Lotophagi,

the Cyclôps, Circê, the Sirens, Æolus, Scylla, etc., he resolves

into a series of temptations, imposed as a trial upon a man of

wisdom and virtue, and emblematic of human life (p. 496). The

story of Arês, Aphroditê, and Hêphæstos, in the eighth book of

the Odyssey, seems to perplex him more than any other: he offers

two explanations, neither of which seems satisfactory even to

himself (p. 494).

An anonymous writer in the collection of Westermann (pp. 329-344)

has discussed the wanderings of Odysseus upon the same ethical

scheme of interpretation as Hêraclidês: he entitles his treatise

“A short essay on the Wanderings of Odysseus in Homer, worked

out in conjunction with ethical reflections, and rectifying what

is rotten in the story, as well as may be, for the benefit of

readers.” (τὸ μύθου σαθρὸν θεραπεύουσα.) The author resolves the

adventures of Odysseus into narratives emblematic of different

situations and trials of human life. Scylla and Charybdis, for

example (c. 8. p. 338), represent, the one, the infirmities and

temptations arising out of the body, the other, those springing

from the mind, between which man is called upon to steer.

The adventure of Odysseus with Æolus, shows how little good

a virtuous man does himself by seeking, in case of distress,

aid from conjurors and evil enchanters; the assistance of such

allies, however it may at first promise well, ultimately deceives

the person who accepts it, and renders him worse off than he was

before (c. 3. p. 332). By such illustrations does the author

sustain his general position, that there is a great body of

valuable ethical teaching wrapped up in the poetry of Homer.

Proclus is full of similar allegorization, both of Homer and

Hesiod: the third Excursus of Heyne ad Iliad. xxiii. (vol. viii.

p. 563), De Allegoriâ Homericâ, contains a valuable summary of

the general subject.

The treatise De Astrologiâ, printed among the works of Lucian,

contains specimens of astrological explanations applied to many

of the Grecian μῦθοι, which the author as a pious man cannot

accept in their literal meaning. “How does it consist with

holiness (he asks) to believe that Æneas was son of Aphroditê,

Minôs of Zeus, or Askalaphus of Mars? No; these were men born

under the favorable influences of the planets Venus, Jupiter, and

Mars.” He considers the principle of astrological explanation

peculiarly fit to be applied to the mythes of Homer and Hesiod

(Lucian, De Astrologiâ, c. 21-22).

It was from the same strong necessity, of accommodating the old mythes

to a new standard both of belief and of appreciation, that both the

historical and the allegorical schemes of transforming them arose;

the literal narrative being decomposed for the purpose of arriving at

a base either of particular matter of fact, or of general physical

or moral truth. Instructed men were commonly disposed to historicize

only the heroic legends, and to allegorize more or less of the divine

legends: the attempt of Euêmerus to historicize the latter was for

the most part denounced as irreligious, while that of Metrodôrus to

allegorize the former met with no success. In allegorizing, moreover,

even the divine legends, it was usual to apply the scheme of allegory

only to the inferior gods, though some of the great Stoic philosophers

carried it farther, and allegorized all the separate personal gods,

leaving only an all-pervading cosmic Mind,[972] essential as a

co-efficient along with Matter, yet not separable from Matter. But

many pious pagans seem to have perceived that allegory pushed to this

extent was fatal to all living religious faith,[973] inasmuch as it

divested the gods of their character of Persons, sympathizing with

mankind and modifiable in their dispositions according to the conduct

and prayers of the believer: and hence they permitted themselves to

employ allegorical interpretation only to some of the obnoxious legends

connected with the superior gods, leaving the personality of the latter

unimpeached.

[972] See Ritter, Geschichte der Philosophie, 2nd edit. part 3.

book 11. chap. 4. p. 592; Varro ap. Augustin. Civitat. Dei, vi.

5, ix. 6; Cicero, Nat. Deor. ii. 24-28.

Chrysippus admitted the most important distinction between Zeus

and the other gods (Plutarch. de Stoicor. Repugnant. p. 1052.)

[973] Plutarch. de Isid. et Osirid. c. 66. p. 377; c. 70. p.

379. Compare on this subject O. Müller, Prolegom. Mythol. p. 59

_seq._, and Eckermann, Lehrbuch der Religionsgeschichte, vol. i.

sect. ii. p. 46.

One novelty, however, introduced seemingly by the philosopher

Empedoklês and afterwards expanded by others, deserves notice,

inasmuch as it modified considerably the old religious creed by

drawing a pointed contrast between gods and dæmons,—a distinction

hardly at all manifested in Homer, but recognized in the Works and

Days of Hesiod.[974] Empedoklês widened the gap between the two,

and founded upon it important consequences. The gods were good,

immortal, and powerful agents, having free-will and intelligence,

but without appetite, passion, or infirmity: the dæmons were of

a mixed nature between gods and men, ministers and interpreters

from the former to the latter, but invested also with an agency

and dispositions of their own. They were very long-lived, but not

immortal, and subject to the passions and propensities of men, so

that there were among them beneficent and maleficent dæmons with

every shade of intermediate difference.[975] It had been the mistake

(according to these philosophers) of the old mythes to ascribe to

the gods proceedings really belonging to the dæmons, who were always

the immediate communicants with mortal nature, inspiring prophetic

power to the priestesses of the oracles, sending dreams and omens,

and perpetually interfering either for good or for evil. The wicked

and violent dæmons, having committed many enormities, had thus

sometimes incurred punishment from the gods: besides which, their bad

dispositions had imposed upon men the necessity of appeasing them by

religious ceremonies of a kind acceptable to such beings: hence, the

human sacrifices, the violent, cruel, and obscene exhibitions, the

wailings and fastings, the tearing and eating of raw flesh, which it

had become customary to practise on various consecrated occasions, and

especially in the Dionysiac solemnities. Moreover, the discreditable

actions imputed to the gods,—the terrific combats, the Typhonic and

Titanic convulsions, the rapes, abductions, flight, servitude, and

concealment,—all these were really the doings and sufferings of bad

dæmons, placed far below the sovereign agency—equable, undisturbed, and

unpolluted—of the immortal gods. The action of such dæmons upon mankind

was fitful and intermittent: they sometimes perished or changed their

local abode, so that oracles which had once been inspired became after

a time forsaken and disfranchized.[976]

[974] Hesiod, Opp. et Di. 122: to the same effect Pythagoras and

Thalês (Diogen. Laër. viii. 32; and Plutarch, Placit. Philos. i.

8).

The Hesiodic dæmons are all good: Athenagoras (Legat. Chr. p.

8) says that Thalês admitted a distinction between good and bad

dæmons, which seems very doubtful.

[975] The distinction between Θεοὶ and Δαίμονες is especially set

forth in the treatise of Plutarch, De Defectu Oraculorum, capp.

10, 12, 13, 15, etc. He seems to suppose it traceable to the

doctrine of Zoroaster or the Orphic mysteries, and he represents

it as relieving the philosopher from great perplexities: for it

was difficult to know where to draw the line in admitting or

rejecting divine Providence: errors were committed sometimes in

affirming God to be the cause of everything, at other times in

supposing him to be the cause of nothing. Ἐπεὶ τὸ διορίσαι πῶς

χρηστέον καὶ μέχρι τίνων τῇ προνοίᾳ, χαλεπὸν, οἱ μὲν οὐδενὸς

ἁπλῶς τὸν θεὸν, οἱ δὲ ὁμοῦ τι πάντων αἴτιον ποιοῦντες, ἀστοχοῦσι

τοῦ μετρίου καὶ πρέποντος. Εὖ μὲν οὖν λέγουσιν καὶ οἱ λέγοντες,

ὅτι Πλάτων τὸ ταῖς γεννωμέναις ποιότησιν ὑποκείμενον στοιχεῖον

ἐξευρὼν, ὃ νῦν ὕλην καὶ φύσιν καλοῦσιν, πολλῶν ἀπήλλαξε καὶ

μεγάλων ἀποριῶν τοὺς φιλοσόφους· ἐμοὶ δὲ δοκοῦσι πλείονας λῦσαι

καὶ μείζονας ἀπορίας οἱ τὸ τῶν δαιμόνων γένος ἐν μέσῳ θεῶν καὶ

ἀνθρώπων, καὶ τρόπον τινὰ τὴν κοινωνίαν ἡμῶν σύναγον εἰς ταὐτὸ

καὶ σύναπτον, ἐξευρόντες (c. 10). Ἡ δαιμόνων φύσις ἔχουσα καὶ

πάθος θνητοῦ καὶ θεοῦ δύναμιν (c. 13).

Εἰσὶ γὰρ, ὡς ἐν ἀνθρώποις, καὶ δαίμοσιν ἀρετῆς διάφοραὶ, καὶ τοῦ

παθητικοῦ καὶ ἀλόγου τοῖς μὲν ἀσθενὲς καὶ ἀμαυρὸν ἔτι λείψανον,

ὥσπερ περίττωμα, τοῖς δὲ πολὺ καὶ δυσκατάσβεστον ἔνεστιν, ὧν ἴχνη

καὶ σύμβολα πολλαχοῦ θύσιαι καὶ τελεταὶ καὶ μυθολογίαι σώζουσι

καὶ διαφυλάττουσιν ἐνδιεσπαρμένα (_ib._): compare Plutarch. de

Isid. et Osir. 25. p. 360.

Καὶ μὴν ὅσας ~ἔν τε μύθοις καὶ ὕμνοις λέγουσι καὶ ᾅδουσι~, τοῦτο

μὲν ἁρπαγὰς, τοῦτο δὲ πλάνας θεῶν, κρύψεις τε καὶ φυγὰς καὶ

λατρείας, οὐ θεῶν εἰσίν ἀλλὰ δαιμόνων παθήματα, etc. (c. 15):

also c. 23; also De Isid. et Osir. c. 25. p. 366.

Human sacrifices and other objectionable rites are excused, as

necessary for the purpose of averting the anger of bad dæmons (c.

14-15).

Empedoklês is represented as the first author of the doctrine

which imputed vicious and abominable dispositions to many of the

dæmons (c. 15, 16, 17, 20), τοὺς εἰσαγομένους ὑπὸ Ἐμπεδοκλέους

δαίμονας; expelled from heaven by the gods, θεήλατοι καὶ

οὐρανοπετεὶς (Plutarch, De Vitand. Aër. Alien. p. 830); followed

by Plato, Xenokratês, and Chrysippus, c. 17: compare Plato

(Apolog. Socrat. p. 27; Politic. p. 271; Symposion, c. 28. p.

203), though he seems to treat the δαίμονες as defective and

mutable beings, rather than actively maleficent. Xenokratês

represents some of them both as wicked and powerful in a high

degree:—Ξενοκράτης καὶ τῶν ἡμερῶν τὰς ἀποφράδας, καὶ τῶν

ἑορτῶν ὅσαι πληγάς τινας ἢ κοπετοὺς, ἢ νηστείας, ἢ δυσφημίας,

ἢ αἰσχρολογίαν ἔχουσιν, οὔτε θεῶν τιμαῖς οὔτε δαιμόνων οἴεται

προσήκειν χρηστῶν, ἀλλ᾽ εἶναι φύσεις ἐν τῷ περιέχοντι μεγάλας

μὲν καὶ ἰσχυρὰς, δυστρόπους δὲ καὶ σκυθρωπὰς, αἳ ~χαίρουσι τοῖς

τοιούτοις~, καὶ ~τυγχάνουσαι πρὸς οὐθὲν ἄλλο χεῖρον τρέπονται~

(Plutarch, De Isid. ut Osir. c. 26. p. 361; Quæstion. Rom. p.

283): compare Stobæus, Eclog. Phys. i. p. 62.

[976] Plutarch, De Defect. Orac. c. 15. p. 418. Chrysippus

admitted, among the various conceivable causes to account for

the existence of evil, the supposition of some negligent and

reckless dæmons, δαιμόνια φαυλὰ ἐν οἷς τῷ ὄντι γίνονται καὶ

ἐγκλητέαι ἀμέλειαι (Plutarch, De Stoicor. Repugnant. p. 1051). A

distinction, which I do not fully understand, between θεοὶ and

δαίμονες, was also adopted among the Locrians at Opus: δαίμων

with them seems to have been equivalent to ἥρως (Plutarch,

Quæstion. Græc. c. 6. p. 292): see the note above, pp. 350-351.

This distinction between gods and dæmons appeared to save in a great

degree both the truth of the old legends and the dignity of the

gods: it obviated the necessity of pronouncing either that the gods

were unworthy, or the legends untrue. Yet although devised for the

purpose of satisfying a more scrupulous religious sensibility, it was

found inconvenient afterwards, when assailants arose against paganism

generally. For while it abandoned as indefensible a large portion of

what had once been genuine faith, it still retained the same word

_dæmons_ with an entirely altered signification. The Christian writers

in their controversies found ample warrant among the _earlier_ pagan

authors[977] for treating all the gods as dæmons—and not less ample

warrant among the _later_ pagans for denouncing the dæmons generally as

evil beings.[978]

[977] Tatian. adv. Græcos, c. 20; Clemens Alexandrin. Admonit.

ad Gentes, pp. 26-29, Sylb.; Minuc. Felix, Octav. c. 26. “Isti

igitur impuri spiritus, ut ostensum a Magis, a philosophis, a

Platone, sub statuis et imaginibus consecrati delitescunt, et

afflatu suo quasi auctoritatem præsentis numinis consequuntur,”

etc. This, like so many other of the aggressive arguments of

the Christians against paganism, was taken from the pagan

philosophers themselves.

Lactantius, De Verâ Philosophiâ, iv. 28. “Ergo iidem sunt

Dæmones, quos fatentur execrandos esse: iidem Dii, quibus

supplicant. Si nobis credendum esse non putant, credant Homero;

qui summum illum Jovem Dæmonibus aggregavit,” etc.

[978] See above, Chapter II. p. 70, the remarks on the Hesiodic

Theogony.

Such were the different modes in which the ancient mythes were

treated, during the literary life of Greece, by the four classes above

named—poets, logographers, historians, and philosophers.

Literal acceptance, and unconscious, uninquiring faith, such as they

had obtained from the original auditors to whom they were addressed,

they now found only among the multitude—alike retentive of traditional

feeling[979] and fearful of criticizing the proceedings of the

gods.[980] But with instructed men they became rather subjects of

respectful and curious analysis—all agreeing that the Word as tendered

to them was inadmissible, yet all equally convinced that it contained

important meaning, though hidden yet not undiscoverable. A very large

proportion of the force of Grecian intellect was engaged in searching

after this unknown base, by guesses, in which sometimes the principle

of semi-historical interpretation was assumed, sometimes that of

allegorical, without any collateral evidence in either case, and

without possibility of verification. Out of the one assumption grew a

string of allegorized phænomenal truths, out of the other a long series

of seeming historical events and chronological persons,—both elicited

from the transformed mythes and from nothing else.[981]

[979] A destructive inundation took place at Pheneus in

Arcadia, seemingly in the time of Plutarch: the subterranean

outlet (βάραθρον) of the river had become blocked up, and the

inhabitants ascribed the stoppage to the anger of Apollo, who had

been provoked by the stealing of the Pythian tripod by Hêraklês:

the latter had carried the tripod to Pheneus and deposited it

there. Ἆρ᾽ οὖν οὐκ ἀτοπώτερος τούτων ὁ Ἀπόλλων, εἰ Φενεάτας

ἀπόλλυσι τοὺς νῦν, ἐμφράξας τὸ βάραθρον, καὶ κατακλύσας τὴν χώραν

ἅπασαν αὐτῶν, ὅτι πρὸ χιλίων ἐτῶν, ὥς φασιν, ὁ Ἡρακλῆς ἀνασπάσας

τὸν τρίποδα τὸν μαντικὸν εἰς Φενεὸν ἀπήνεγκε; (Plutarch. de

Serâ Numin. Vindictâ, p. 577; compare Pausan. viii. 14, 1.)

The expression of Plutarch, that the abstraction of the tripod

by Hêraklês had taken place 1000 years before, is that of the

critic, who thinks it needful to historicize and chronologize the

genuine legend; which, to an inhabitant of Pheneus, at the time

of the inundation, was doubtless as little questioned as if the

theft of Hêraklês had been laid in the preceding generation.

Agathoclês of Syracuse committed depredations on the coasts

of Ithaca and Korkyra: the excuse which he offered was, that

Odysseus had come to Sicily and blinded Polyphêmus, and that

on his return he had been kindly received by the Phæakians

(Plutarch, _ib._).

This is doubtless a jest, either made by Agathoclês, or more

probably invented for him; but it is founded upon a popular

belief.

[980] “Sanctiusque et reverentius visum, de actis Deorum credere

quam scire.” (Tacit. German. c. 34.)

Aristidês, however, represents the Homeric theology (whether he

would have included the Hesiodic we do not know) as believed

quite literally among the multitude in his time, the second

century after Christianity (Aristid. Orat. iii. p. 25). Ἀπορῶ,

ὅπη πότε χρή με διαθέσθαι μεθ᾽ ὑμῶν, πότερα ὡς τοῖς πολλοῖς δοκεῖ

καὶ Ὁμήρῳ δὲ συνδοκεῖ, θεῶν παθήματα συμπεισθῆναι καὶ ἡμᾶς,

οἷον Ἀρέος δέσμα καὶ Ἀπόλλωνος θητείας καὶ Ἡφαίστου ῥίψεις εἰς

θάλασσαν, οὕτω δὲ καὶ Ἰνοῦς ἄχη καὶ φυγάς τινας. Compare Lucian,

Ζεὺς Τραγῶδος, c. 20, and De Luctu, c. 2; Dionys. Halicar. A. R.

ii. p. 90, Sylb.

Kallimachus (Hymn. ad Jov. 9) distinctly denied the statement

of the Kretans that they possessed in Krête the tomb of Zeus,

and treated it as an instance of Kretan mendacity; while

Celsus did not deny it, but explained it in some figurative

manner—αἰνιττόμενος τροπικὰς ὑπονοίας (Origen. cont. Celsum, iii.

p. 137).

[981] There is here a change as compared with my first edition;

I had inserted here some remarks on the allegorical theory of

interpretation, as compared with the semi-historical. An able

article on my work (in the Edinburgh Review, October 1846),

pointed out that those remarks required modification, and that

the idea of allegory in reference to the construction of the

mythes was altogether inadmissible.

The utmost which we accomplish by means of the semi-historical theory,

even in its most successful applications, is, that after leaving out

from the mythical narrative all that is miraculous or high-colored or

extravagant, we arrive at a series of credible incidents—incidents

which _may, perhaps_, have really occurred, and against which no

intrinsic presumption can be raised. This is exactly the character

of a well-written modern novel (as, for example, several among the

compositions of Defoe), the whole story of which is such as may well

have occurred in real life: it is plausible fiction, and nothing

beyond. To raise plausible fiction up to the superior dignity of

truth, some positive testimony or positive ground of inference must

be shown; even the highest measure of intrinsic probability is not

alone sufficient. A man who tells us that, on the day of the battle

of Platæa, rain fell on the spot of ground where the city of New York

now stands, will neither deserve nor obtain credit, because he can

have had no means of positive knowledge; though the statement is not

in the slightest degree improbable. On the other hand, statements in

themselves very improbable may well deserve belief, provided they be

supported by sufficient positive evidence; thus the canal dug by order

of Xerxês across the promontory of Mount Athos, and the sailing of

the Persian fleet through it, is a fact which I believe, because it

is well-attested—notwithstanding its remarkable improbability, which

so far misled Juvenal as to induce him to single out the narrative

as a glaring example of Grecian mendacity.[982] Again, many critics

have observed that the general tale of the Trojan war (apart from

the superhuman agencies) is not more improbable than that of the

Crusades, which every one admits to be an historical fact. But (even

if we grant this position, which is only true to a small extent), it

is not sufficient to show an analogy between the two cases in respect

to negative presumptions alone; the analogy ought to be shown to hold

between them in respect to positive certificate also. The Crusades

are a curious phænomenon in history, but we accept them, nevertheless,

as an unquestionable fact, because the antecedent improbability is

surmounted by adequate contemporary testimony. When the like testimony,

both in amount and kind, is produced to establish the historical

reality of a Trojan war, we shall not hesitate to deal with the two

events on the same footing.

[982] Juvenal, Sat. x. 174:—

“Creditur olim

Velificatus Athos, et quantum Græcia mendax

Audet in historiâ,” etc.

In applying the semi-historical theory to Grecian mythical narrative,

it has been often forgotten that a certain strength of testimony, or

positive ground of belief, must first be tendered, before we can be

called upon to discuss the antecedent probability or improbability of

the incidents alleged. The belief of the Greeks themselves, without the

smallest aid of special or contemporary witnesses, has been tacitly

assumed as sufficient to support the case, provided only sufficient

deduction be made from the mythical narratives to remove all antecedent

improbabilities. It has been taken for granted that the faith of the

people must have rested originally upon some particular historical

event, involving the identical persons, things, and places which the

original mythes exhibit, or at least the most prominent among them.

But when we examine the pyschagogic influences predominant in the

society among whom this belief originally grew up, we shall see that

their belief is of little or no evidentiary value, and that the growth

and diffusion of it may be satisfactorily explained without supposing

any special basis of matters of fact. The popular faith, so far as

it counts for anything, testifies in favor of the entire and literal

mythes, which are now universally rejected as incredible.[983] We have

thus the very minimum of positive proof, and the maximum of negative

presumption: we may diminish the latter by conjectural omissions and

interpolations, but we cannot by any artifice increase the former: the

narrative ceases to be incredible, but it still remains uncertified,—a

mere commonplace possibility. Nor is fiction always, or essentially,

extravagant and incredible. It is often not only plausible and

coherent, but even more like truth (if a paradoxical phrase may be

allowed) than truth itself. Nor can we, in the absence of any extrinsic

test, reckon upon any intrinsic mark to discriminate the one from the

other.[984]

[983] Colonel Sleeman observes, respecting the Hindoo historical

mind—“History to this people is all a fairy tale.” (Rambles and

Recollections of an Indian Official, vol. i. ch. ix. p. 70.) And

again, “The popular poem of the Ramaen describes the abduction

of the heroine by the monster king of Ceylon, Rawun; and her

recovery by means of the monkey general, Hunnooman. Every word of

this poem, the people assured me was written, if not by the hand

of the Deity himself, at least by his inspiration, which was the

same thing—and it must consequently be true. Ninety-nine out of

a hundred, among the Hindoos, implicitly believe, not only every

word of the poem, but every word of every poem that has ever been

written in Sanscrit. If you ask a man whether he really believes

any very egregious absurdity quoted from these books, he replies,

with the greatest _naïveté_ in the world, Is it not written in

the book; and how should it be there written, if not true? The

Hindoo religion reposes upon an entire prostration of mind,—that

continual and habitual surrender of the reasoning faculties,

which we are accustomed to make occasionally, while engaged at

the theatre, or in the perusal of works of fiction. We allow the

scenes, characters, and incidents, to pass before our mind’s

eye, and move our feelings—without stopping a moment to ask

whether they are real or true. There is only this difference—that

with people of education among us, even in such short intervals

of illusion or _abandon_, any extravagance in the acting, or

flagrant improbability in the fiction, destroys the charm, breaks

the spell by which we have been so mysteriously bound, and

restores us to reason and the realities of ordinary life. With

the Hindoos, on the contrary, the greater the improbability, the

more monstrous and preposterous the fiction—the greater is the

charm it has over their minds; and the greater their learning

in the Sanscrit, the more are they under the influence of this

charm. Believing all to be written by the Deity, or under his

inspirations, and the men and things of former days to have

been very different from men and things of the present day, and

the heroes of these fables to have been demigods, or people

endowed with powers far superior to those of the ordinary men

of their own day—the analogies of nature are never for a moment

considered; nor do questions of probability, or possibility,

according to those analogies, ever obtrude to dispel the charm

with which they are so pleasingly bound. They go on through

life reading and talking of these monstrous fictions, which

shock the taste and understanding of other nations, without

ever questioning the truth of one single incident, or hearing

it questioned. There was a time, and that not far distant, when

it was the same in England, and in every other European nation;

and there are, I am afraid, some parts of Europe where it is

so still. But the Hindoo faith, so far as religious questions

are concerned, is not more capacious or absurd than that of the

Greeks or Romans in the days of Socrates or Cicero: the only

difference is, that among the Hindoos a greater number of the

questions which interest mankind are brought under the head of

religion.” (Sleeman, Rambles, etc., vol. i. ch. xxvi. p. 227:

compare vol. ii. ch. v. p. 51; viii. p. 97.)

[984] Lord Lyttleton, in commenting on the tales of the Irish

bards, in his History of Henry II., has the following just

remarks (book iv. vol. iii. p. 13, quarto): “One may reasonably

suppose that in MSS. written since the Irish received the Roman

letters from St. Patrick, _some_ traditional truths recorded

before by the bards in their unwritten poems may have been

preserved to our times. Yet these cannot be so separated from

many fabulous stories derived from the same sources, as to obtain

a firm credit; it not being sufficient to establish the authority

of suspected traditions, that they can be shown not to be so

improbable or absurd as others with which they are mixed—_since

there may be specious as well as senseless fictions_. Nor can a

poet or bard, who lived in the sixth or seventh century after

Christ, if his poem is still extant, be any voucher for facts

supposed to have happened before the incarnation; though his

evidence (allowing for poetical license) may be received on such

matters as come within his own time, or the remembrance of old

men with whom he conversed. The most judicious historians pay no

regard to the Welsh or British traditions delivered by Geoffrey

of Monmouth, though it is not impossible but that some of these

may be true.”

One definition of a mythe given by Plutarch coincides exactly

with a _specious fiction_: Ὁ μῦθος εἶναι βούλεται λόγος ψευδὴς

ἐοικὼς ἀληθινῷ (Plutarch, Bellone an pace clariores fuerunt

Athenienses, p. 348).

“Der Grund-Trieb des Mythus (Creuzer justly expresses it) das

Gedachte in ein Geschehenes umzusetzen.” (Symbolik der Alten

Welt, sect. 43. p. 99.)

In the semi-historical theory respecting Grecian mythical narrative,

the critic unconsciously transports into the Homeric age those habits

of classification and distinction, and that standard of acceptance

or rejection, which he finds current in his own. Amongst us, the

distinction between historical fact and fiction is highly valued as

well as familiarly understood: we have a long history of the past,

deduced from a study of contemporary evidences; and we have a body

of fictitious literature, stamped with its own mark and interesting

in its own way. Speaking generally, no man could now hope to succeed

permanently in transferring any striking incident from the latter

category into the former, nor could any man deliberately attempt it

without incurring well-merited obloquy. But this _historical sense_,

now so deeply rooted in the modern mind that we find a difficulty

in conceiving any people to be without it, is the fruit of records

and inquiries, first applied to the present, and then preserved and

studied by subsequent generations; while in a society which has not

yet formed the habit of recording its present, the real facts of the

past can never be known; the difference between attested matter

of fact and plausible fiction—between truth and that which is like

truth—can neither be discerned nor sought for. Yet it is precisely upon

the supposition that this distinction is present to men’s habitual

thoughts, that the semi-historical theory of the mythes is grounded.

It is perfectly true, as has often been stated, that the Grecian epic

contains what are called traditions respecting the past—the larger

portion of it, indeed, consists of nothing else. But what are these

traditions? They are the matter of those songs and stories which have

acquired hold on the public mind; they are the creations of the poets

and storytellers themselves, each of whom finds some preëxisting, and

adds others of his own, new and previously untold, under the impulse

and authority of the inspiring Muse. Homer doubtless found many songs

and stories current with respect to the siege of Troy; he received and

transmitted some of these traditions, recast and transformed others,

and enlarged the whole mass by new creations of his own. To the

subsequent poets, such as Arktinus and Leschês, these Homeric creations

formed portions of preëxisting tradition, with which they dealt in the

same manner; so that the whole mass of traditions constituting the tale

of Troy became larger and larger with each successive contributor. To

assume a generic difference between the older and the newer strata of

tradition—to treat the former as morsels of history, and the latter

as appendages of fiction—is an hypothesis gratuitous at the least,

not to say inadmissible. For the further we travel back into the

past, the more do we recede from the clear day of positive history,

and the deeper do we plunge into the unsteady twilight and gorgeous

clouds of fancy and feeling. It was one of the agreeable dreams of the

Grecian epic, that the man who travelled far enough northward beyond

the Rhipæan mountains, would in time reach the delicious country and

genial climate of the virtuous Hyperboreans—the votaries and favorites

of Apollo, who dwelt in the extreme north beyond the chilling blasts

of Boreas. Now the hope that we may, by carrying our researches up the

stream of time, exhaust the limits of fiction, and land ultimately upon

some points of solid truth, appears to me no less illusory than this

northward journey in quest of the Hyperborean elysium.

The general disposition to adopt the semi-historical theory as to the

genesis of Grecian mythes, arises in part from reluctance in critics to

impute to the mythopœic ages extreme credulity or fraud; together with

the usual presumption, that where much is believed some portion of it

must be true. There would be some weight in these grounds of reasoning,

if the ages under discussion had been supplied with records and

accustomed to critical inquiry. But amongst a people unprovided with

the former and strangers to the latter, credulity is naturally at its

maximum, as well in the narrator himself as in his hearers: the idea

of deliberate fraud is moreover inapplicable,[985] for if the hearers

are disposed to accept what is related to them as a revelation from

the Muse, the _œstrus_ of composition is quite sufficient to impart a

similar persuasion to the poet whose mind is penetrated with it. The

belief of that day can hardly be said to stand apart by itself as an

act of reason. It becomes confounded with vivacious imagination and

earnest emotion; and in every case where these mental excitabilities

are powerfully acted upon, faith ensues unconsciously and as a matter

of course. How active and prominent such tendencies were among the

early Greeks, the extraordinary beauty and originality of their epic

poetry may teach us.

[985] In reference to the loose statements of the Highlanders,

Dr. Johnson observes, “He that goes into the Highlands with a

mind naturally acquiescent, and a credulity eager for wonders,

may perhaps come back with an opinion very different from mine;

for the inhabitants, knowing the ignorance of all strangers in

their language and antiquities, are perhaps not very scrupulous

adherents to truth; yet I do not say that they deliberately speak

studied falsehood, or have a settled purpose to deceive. They

have acquired and considered little, and do not always feel their

own ignorance. They are not much accustomed to be interrogated

by others, and seem never to have thought of interrogating

themselves; _so that if they do not know what they tell to be

true, they likewise do not distinctly perceive it to be false_.

Mr. Boswell was very diligent in his inquiries, and the result of

his investigations was, that the answer to the second question

was commonly such as nullified the answer to the first.” (Journey

to the Western Islands, p. 272, 1st edit., 1775).

It is, besides, a presumption far too largely and indiscriminately

applied, even in our own advanced age, that where much is believed,

something must necessarily be true—that accredited fiction is always

traceable to some basis of historical truth.[986] The influence

of imagination and feeling is not confined simply to the process

of retouching, transforming, or magnifying narratives originally

founded on fact; it will often create new narratives of its own,

without any such preliminary basis. Where there is any general body

of sentiment pervading men living in society, whether it be religious

or political—love, admiration, or antipathy—all incidents tending to

illustrate that sentiment are eagerly welcomed, rapidly circulated

and (as a general rule) easily accredited. If real incidents are not

at hand, impressive fictions will be provided to satisfy the demand.

The perfect harmony of such fictions with the prevalent feeling stands

in the place of certifying testimony, and causes men to hear them not

merely with credence, but even with delight: to call them in question

and require proof, is a task which cannot be undertaken without

incurring obloquy. Of such tendencies in the human mind, abundant

evidence is furnished by the innumerable religious legends which

have acquired currency in various parts of the world, and of which

no country was more fertile than Greece—legends which derived their

origin, not from special facts misreported and exaggerated, but from

pious feelings pervading the society, and translated into narrative

by forward and imaginative minds—legends, in which not merely the

incidents, but often even the personages are unreal, yet in which the

generating sentiment is conspicuously discernible, providing its own

matter as well as its own form. Other sentiments also, as well as the

religious, provided they be fervent and widely diffused, will find

expression in current narrative, and become portions of the general

public belief—every celebrated and notorious character is the source

of a thousand fictions exemplifying his peculiarities. And if it be

true, as I think present observation may show us, that such creative

agencies are even now visible and effective, when the materials of

genuine history are copious and critically studied—much more are we

warranted in concluding that, in ages destitute of records, strangers

to historical testimony, and full of belief in divine inspiration both

as to the future and as to the past, narratives purely fictitious

will acquire ready and uninquiring credence, provided only they be

plausible and in harmony with the preconceptions of the auditors.

[986] I considered this position more at large in an article

in the “Westminster Review” for May, 1843, on Niebuhr’s Greek

Legends, with which article much in the present chapter will be

found to coincide.

The allegorical interpretation of the mythes has been by several

learned investigators, especially by Creuzer, connected with the

hypothesis of an ancient and highly instructed body of priests, having

their origin either in Egypt or in the East, and communicating to the

rude and barbarous Greeks religious, physical, and historical knowledge

under the veil of symbols. At a time (we are told) when language was

yet in its infancy, visible symbols were the most vivid means of acting

upon the minds of ignorant hearers: the next step was to pass to

symbolical language and expressions—for a plain and literal exposition,

even if understood at all, would at least have been listened to with

indifference, as not corresponding with any mental demand. In such

allegorizing way, then, the early priests set forth their doctrines

respecting God, nature, and humanity—a refined monotheism and a

theological philosophy—and to this purpose the earliest mythes were

turned. But another class of mythes, more popular and more captivating,

grew up under the hands of the poets—mythes purely epical, and

descriptive of real or supposed past events. The allegorical mythes,

being taken up by the poets, insensibly became confounded in the same

category with the purely narrative mythes—the matter symbolized was no

longer thought of, while the symbolizing words came to be construed in

their own literal meaning—and the basis of the early allegory, thus

lost among the general public, was only preserved as a secret among

various religious fraternities, composed of members allied together

by initiation in certain mystical ceremonies, and administered by

hereditary families of presiding priests. In the Orphic and Bacchic

sects, in the Eleusinian and Samothracian mysteries, was thus treasured

up the secret doctrine of the old theological and philosophical mythes,

which had once constituted the primitive legendary stock of Greece, in

the hands of the original priesthood and in ages anterior to Homer.

Persons who had gone through the preliminary ceremonies of initiation,

were permitted at length to hear, though under strict obligation of

secrecy, this ancient religious and cosmogonic doctrine, revealing

the destination of man and the certainty of posthumous rewards and

punishments—all disengaged from the corruptions of poets, as well as

from the symbols and allegories under which they still remained buried

in the eyes of the vulgar. The mysteries of Greece were thus traced up

to the earliest ages, and represented as the only faithful depository

channels of that purer theology and physics which had originally

been communicated, though under the unavoidable inconvenience of a

symbolical expression, by an enlightened priesthood coming from abroad

to the then rude barbarians of the country.[987]

[987] For this general character of the Grecian mysteries, with

their concealed treasure of doctrine, see _Warburton_, Divine

Legation of Moses, book ii. sect. 4.

_Payne Knight_, On the Symbolical Language of ancient Art and

Mythology, sect. 6, 10, 11, 40, etc.

_Saint Croix_, Recherches sur les Mystères du Paganisme, sect. 3,

p. 106; sect. 4, p. 404, etc.

_Creuzer_, Symbolik und Mythologie der Alten Völker, sect. 2,

3, 23, 39, 42, etc. Meiners and Heeren adopt generally the same

view, though there are many divergences of opinion between these

different authors, on a subject essentially obscure. Warburton

maintained that the interior doctrine communicated in the

mysteries was the existence of one Supreme Divinity, combined

with the Euemeristic creed, that the pagan gods had been mere men.

See Clemens Alex. Strom. v. p. 582, Sylb.

The view taken by Hermann of the ancient Greek mythology is

in many points similar to that of Creuzer, though with some

considerable difference. He thinks that it is an aggregate

of doctrine—philosophical, theological, physical, and

moral—expressed under a scheme of systematic personifications,

each person being called by a name significant of the function

personified: this doctrine was imported from the East into

Greece, where the poets, retaining or translating the names, but

forgetting their meaning and connection, distorted the primitive

stories, the sense of which came to be retained only in the

ancient mysteries. That true sense, however, (he thinks,) may be

recovered by a careful analysis of the significant names: and

his two dissertations (De Mythologiâ Græcorum Antiquissimâ, in

the Opuscula, vol. ii.) exhibit a specimen of this systematic

expansion of etymology into narrative. The dissent from Creuzer

is set forth in their published correspondence, especially in his

concluding “Brief an Creuzer über das Wesen und die Behandlung

der Mythologie,” Leipzig, 1819. The following citation from his

Latin dissertation sets forth his general doctrine:—

Hermann, De Mythologiâ Græcorum Antiquissimâ, p. 4 (Opuscula,

vol. ii. p. 171): “Videmus rerum divinarum humanarumque scientiam

ex Asiâ per Lyciam migrantem in Europam: videmus fabulosos

poëtas peregrinam doctrinam, monstruoso tumore orientis sive

exutam, sive nondum indutam, quasi de integro Græcâ specie

procreantes; videmus poëtas, illos, quorum omnium vera nomina

nominibus—ab arte, quâ clarebant, petitis—obliterata sunt,

diu in Thraciâ hærentes, raroque tandem etiam cum aliis

Græciæ partibus commercio junctos: qualis Pamphus, non ipse

Atheniensis, Atheniensibus hymnos Deorum fecit. Videmus denique

retrusam paulatim in mysteriorum secretam illam sapientum

doctrinam, vitiatam religionum perturbatione, corruptam inscitiâ

interpretum, obscuratam levitate amœniora sectantium—adeo ut eam

ne illi quidem intelligerent, qui hæreditariam a prioribus poësin

colentes, quum ingenii præstantiâ omnes præstinguerent, tantâ

illos oblivione merserunt, ut ipsi sint primi auctores omnis

eruditionis habiti.”

Hermann thinks, however, that by pursuing the suggestions of

etymology, vestiges may still be discovered, and something like a

history compiled, of Grecian belief as it stood anterior to Homer

and Hesiod: “Est autem in hac omni ratione judicio maxime opus,

quia non testibus res agitur, sed ad interpretandi solertiam

omnia revocanda sunt” (p. 172). To the same general purpose

the French work of M. Emérie David, Recherches sur le Dieu

Jupiter—reviewed by O. Müller: see the Kleine Schriften of the

latter, vol. ii. p. 82.

Mr. Bryant has also employed a profusion of learning, and

numerous etymological conjectures, to resolve the Greek mythes

into mistakes, perversions, and mutilations, of the exploits and

doctrines of oriental tribes long-lost and by-gone,—Amonians,

Cuthites, Arkites, etc. “It was Noah (he thinks) who was

represented under the different names of Thoth, Hermês, Menês,

Osiris, Zeuth, Atlas, Phorôneus, Promêtheus, to which list a

farther number of great extent might be added: the Νοῦς of

Anaxagoras was in reality the patriarch Noah” (Ant. Mythol. vol.

ii. pp. 253, 272). “The Cuthites or Amonians, descendants of

Noah, settled in Greece from the east, celebrated for their skill

in building and the arts” (_ib._ i. p. 502; ii. p. 187). “The

greatest part of the Grecian theology arose from misconception

and blunders, the stories concerning their gods and heroes were

founded on terms misinterpreted or abused” (_ib._ i. p. 452).

“The number of different actions ascribed to the various Grecian

gods or heroes all relate to one people or family, and are at

bottom one and the same history” (_ib._ ii. p. 57). “The fables

of Promêtheus and Tityus were taken from ancient Amonian temples,

from hieroglyphics misunderstood and badly explained” (i. p.

426): see especially vol. ii. p. 160.

But this theory, though advocated by several learned men, has been

shown to be unsupported and erroneous. It implies a mistaken view

both of the antiquity and the purport of the mysteries, which cannot

be safely carried up even to the age of Hesiod, and which, though

imposing and venerable as religious ceremonies, included no recondite

or esoteric teaching.[988]

[988] The Anti-Symbolik of Voss, and still more the Aglaophamus

of Lobeck, are full of instruction on the subject of this

supposed interior doctrine, and on the ancient mysteries

in general: the latter treatise, especially, is not less

distinguished for its judicious and circumspect criticism than

for its copious learning.

Mr. Halhed (Preface to the Gentoo Code of Laws, pp. xiii.-xiv.)

has good observations on the vanity of all attempts to allegorize

the Hindu mythology: he observes, with perfect truth, “The

vulgar and illiterate have always understood the mythology of

their country in its literal sense; and there was a time to

every nation, when the highest rank in it was equally vulgar and

illiterate with the lowest.... A Hindu esteems the astonishing

miracles attributed to a Brima, or a Kishen, as facts of the

most indubitable authenticity, and the relation of them as most

strictly historical.”

Compare also Gibbon’s remarks on the allegorizing tendencies of

the later Platonists (Hist. Decl. and Fall, vol. iv. p. 71).

The doctrine, supposed to have been originally symbolized and

subsequently overclouded, in the Greek mythes, was in reality first

intruded into them by the unconscious fancies of later interpreters. It

was one of the various roads which instructed men took to escape from

the literal admission of the ancient mythes, and to arrive at some new

form of belief, more consonant with their ideas of what the attributes

and character of the gods ought to be. It was one of the ways of

constituting, by help of the mysteries, a philosophical religion apart

from the general public, and of connecting that distinction with the

earliest periods of Grecian society. Such a distinction was both avowed

and justified among the superior men of the later pagan world. Varro

and Scævola distributed theology into three distinct departments,—the

mythical or fabulous, the civil, and the physical. The first had

its place in the theatre, and was left without any interference to

the poets; the second belonged to the city of political community

as such,—it comprised the regulation of all the public worship and

religious rites, and was consigned altogether to the direction of

the magistrate; the third was the privilege of philosophers, but was

reserved altogether for private discussion in the schools, apart from

the general public.[989] As a member of the city, the philosopher

sympathized with the audience in the theatre, and took a devout share

in the established ceremonies, nor was he justified in trying what

he heard in the one or saw in the other by his own ethical standard.

But in the private assemblies of instructed or inquisitive men, he

enjoyed the fullest liberty of canvassing every received tenet, and

of broaching his own theories unreservedly, respecting the existence

and nature of the gods. By these discussions, the activity of the

philosophical mind was maintained and truth elicited; but it was such

truth as the body of the people ought not to hear, lest their faith in

their own established religious worship should be overthrown. In thus

distinguishing the civil theology from the fabulous, Varro was enabled

to cast upon the poets all the blame of the objectionable points in the

popular theology, and to avoid the necessity of pronouncing censure on

the magistrates, who (he contended) had made as good a compromise with

the settled prejudices of the public as the case permitted.

[989] Varro, ap. Augustin. De Civ. Dei, iv. 27; vi. 5-6. “Dicis

fabulosos Deos accommodatos esse ad theatrum, naturales ad

mundum, civiles ad urbem.” “Varro, de religionibus loquens, multa

esse vera dixit, quæ non modo vulgo scire non sit utile, sed

etiam tametsi falsa sint, aliter existimare populum expediat:

et ideo Græcos teletas et mysteria taciturnitate parietibusque

clausisse” (_ibid._ iv. 31). See Villoison, De Triplici Theologiâ

Commentatio, p. 8; and Lactantius, De Origin. Error. ii. 3. The

doctrine of the Stoic Chrysippus, ap. Etymologicon Magn. v.

Τελεταί—Χρύσιππος δέ φησι, τοὺς περὶ τῶν θείων λόγους εἰκότως

καλεῖσθαι τελετὰς, χρῆναι γὰρ τούτους τελευταίους καὶ ἐπὶ πᾶσι

διδάσκεσθαι, τῆς ψυχῆς ἐχούσης ἕρμα καὶ κεκρατημένης, καὶ πρὸς

τοὺς ἀμυήτους σιωπᾷν δυναμένης· μέγα γὰρ εἶναι τὸ ἆθλον ὑπὲρ θεῶν

ἀκοῦσαί τε ὀρθὰ, καὶ ἐγκρατεῖς γενέσθαι αὐτῶν.

The triple division of Varro is reproduced in Plutarch,

Amatorius, p. 763. τὰ μὲν μύθῳ, τὰ δὲ νόμῳ, τὰ δὲ λόγῳ, πίστιν ἐξ

ἀρχῆς ἔσχηκε· τῆς δ᾽ οὖν περὶ θεῶν δόξης καὶ παντάπασιν ἡγεμόνες

καὶ διδάσκαλοι γεγόνασιν ἡμῖν οἵ τε ποιηταὶ, καὶ οἱ νομοθέται,

καὶ τρίτον, οἱ φιλόσοφοι.

The same conflicting sentiments which led the philosophers to decompose

the divine mythes into allegory, impelled the historians to melt down

the heroic mythes into something like continuous political history,

with a long series of chronology calculated upon the heroic pedigrees.

The one process as well as the other was interpretative guesswork,

proceeding upon unauthorized assumptions, and without any verifying

test or evidence: while it frittered away the characteristic beauty

of the mythe into something essentially anti-mythical, it sought to

arrive both at history and philosophy by impracticable roads. That the

superior men of antiquity should have striven hard to save the dignity

of legends which constituted the charm of their literature as well as

the substance of the popular religion, we cannot be at all surprised;

but it is gratifying to find Plato discussing the subject in a more

philosophical spirit. The Platonic Socratês, being asked whether he

believed the current Attic fable respecting the abduction of Oreithyia

(daughter of Erechtheus) by Boreas, replies, in substance,—“It would

not be strange if I disbelieved it, as the clever men do; I might

then show my cleverness by saying that a gust of Boreas blew her down

from the rocks above while she was at play, and that, having been

killed in this manner, she was reported to have been carried off by

Boreas. Such speculations are amusing enough, but they belong to men

ingenious and busy-minded overmuch, and not greatly to be envied, if

it be only for this reason, _that, after having set right one fable,

they are under the necessity of applying the same process to a host of

others_—Hippocentaurs, Chimæras, Gorgons, Pegasus, and numberless other

monsters and incredibilities. A man, who, disbelieving these stories,

shall try to find a probable basis for each of them, will display an

ill-placed acuteness and take upon himself an endless burden, for which

I at least have no leisure: accordingly, I forego such researches, and

believe in the current version of the stories.”[990]

[990] Plato, Phædr. c. 7. p. 229:—

PHÆDRUS. Εἶπέ μοι, ὦ Σώκρατες, σὺ τοῦτο τὸ μυθολόγημα πείθει

ἀληθὲς εἶναι;

SOCRATES. Ἀλλ᾽ εἰ ἀπιστοίην, ὥσπερ οἱ σοφοὶ, οὐκ ἂν ἄτοπος εἴην,

εἶτα σοφιζόμενος φαίην αὐτὴν πνεῦμα Βορέου κατὰ τῶν πλησίον

πετρῶν σὺν φαρμακείᾳ παίζουσαν ὦσαι, καὶ οὕτω δὴ τελευτήσασαν

λεχθῆναι ὑπὸ τοῦ Βορέου ἀναρπαστὸν γεγονέναι.... Ἐγὼ δὲ, ὦ

Φαῖδρε, ἄλλως μὲν τὰ τοιαῦτα χαρίεντα ἡγοῦμαι, λίαν δὲ δεινοῦ καὶ

ἐπιπόνου καὶ οὐ πάνυ εὐτυχοῦς ἀνδρὸς, κατ᾽ ἄλλο μὲν οὐδὲν, ὅτι δ᾽

αὐτῷ ἀνάγκη μετὰ τοῦτο τὸ τῶν Ἱπποκενταύρων εἶδος ἐπανορθοῦσθαι,

καὶ αὖθις τὸ τῆς Χιμαίρας. Καὶ ἐπιῤῥεῖ δὲ ὄχλος τοιούτων Γοργόνων

καὶ Πηγάσων, καὶ ἄλλων ἀμηχάνων πλήθη τε καὶ ἀτοπίαι τερατολόγων

τινῶν φύσεων· αἷς εἴ τις ἀπιστῶν προσβιβᾷ κατὰ τὸ εἰκὸς ἕκαστον,

ἅτε ἀγροίκῳ τινὶ σοφίᾳ χρώμενος, πολλῆς αὐτῷ σχολῆς δεήσει. Ἐμοὶ

δὲ πρὸς ταῦτα οὐδαμῶς ἐστι σχολή.... Ὅθεν δὴ χαίρειν ἐάσας ταῦτα,

πειθόμενος δὲ τῷ νομιζομένῳ περὶ αὐτῶν, ὃ νῦν δὴ ἔλεγον, σκοπῶ οὐ

ταῦτα ἀλλ᾽ ἐμαυτὸν, etc.

These remarks of Plato are valuable, not simply because they point

out the uselessness of digging for a supposed basis of truth in the

mythes, but because they at the same time suggest the true reason

for mistrusting all such tentatives. The mythes form a class apart,

abundant as well as peculiar: to remove any individual mythe from its

own class into that of history or philosophy, by simple conjecture,

and without any collateral evidence, is of no advantage, unless you

can perform a similar process on the remainder. If the process be

trustworthy, it ought to be applied to all; and _e converso_, if it

be not applicable to all, it is not trustworthy as applied to any one

specially; always assuming no special evidence to be accessible. To

detach any individual mythe from the class to which it belongs, is to

present it in an erroneous point of view; we have no choice except to

admit them as they stand, by putting ourselves approximatively into the

frame of mind of those for whom they were destined and to whom they

appeared worthy of credit.

If Plato thus discountenances all attempts to transform the mythes by

interpretation into history or philosophy, indirectly recognizing the

generic difference between them—we find substantially the same view

pervading the elaborate precepts in his treatise on the Republic. He

there regards the mythes, not as embodying either matter-of-fact or

philosophical principle, but as portions of religious and patriotic

faith, and instruments of ethical tuition. Instead of allowing the

poets to frame them according to the impulses of their own genius,

and with a view to immediate popularity, he directs the legislator to

provide types of his own for the characters of the gods and heroes,

and to suppress all such divine and heroic legends as are not in

harmony with these preëstablished canons. In the Platonic system, the

mythes are not to be matters of history, nor yet of spontaneous or

casual fiction, but of prescribed faith: he supposes that the people

will believe, as a thing of course, what the poets circulate, and he

therefore directs that the latter shall circulate nothing which does

not tend to ennoble and improve the feelings. He conceives the mythes

as stories composed to illustrate the general sentiments of the poets

and the community, respecting the character and attributes of the gods

and heroes, or respecting the social relations, and ethical duties as

well as motives of mankind: hence the obligation upon the legislator to

prescribe beforehand the types of character which shall be illustrated,

and to restrain the poets from following out any opposing fancies.

“Let us neither believe ourselves (he exclaims), nor permit any one to

circulate, that Thêseus son of Poseidôn and Peirithöus son of Zeus, or

any other hero or son of a god, could ever have brought themselves to

commit abductions or other enormities such as are now falsely ascribed

to them. We must compel the poets to say, either that such persons were

not the sons of gods, or that they were not the perpetrators of such

misdeeds.”[991]

[991] Plato, Repub. iii. 5. p. 391. The perfect ignorance of

all men respecting the gods, rendered the task of fiction easy

(Plato, Kritias, p. 107).

Most of the mythes which the youth hear and repeat (according to Plato)

are false, but some of them are true: the great and prominent mythes

which appear in Homer and Hesiod are no less fictions than the rest.

But fiction constitutes one of the indispensable instruments of mental

training as well as truth; only the legislator must take care that

the fiction so employed shall be beneficent and not mischievous.[992]

As the mischievous fictions (he says) take their rise from wrong

preconceptions respecting the character of the gods and heroes, so the

way to correct them is to enforce, by authorized compositions, the

adoption of a more correct standard.[993]

[992] Plato, Repub. ii. 16. p. 377. Λόγων δὲ διττὸν εἶδος, τὸ

μὲν ἀληθὲς, ψεῦδος δ᾽ ἕτερον; Ναί. Παιδευτέον δ᾽ ἐν ἀμφοτέροις,

πρότερον δ᾽ ἐν τοῖς ψεύδεσιν· ... Οὐ μανθάνεις, ὅτι πρῶτον τοῖς

παιδίοις μύθους λέγομεν· τοῦτο δέ που ὡς τὸ ὅλον εἰπεῖν ψεῦδος,

ἔνι δὲ καὶ ἀληθῆ.... Πρῶτον ἡμῖν ἐπιστατητέον τοῖς μυθοποιοῖς,

καὶ ὃν μὲν ἂν καλὸν μῦθον ποιήσωσιν, ἐγκριτέον, ὃν δ᾽ ἂν μὴ,

ἀποκριτέον ... ὧν δὲ νῦν λέγουσι, τοὺς πολλοὺς ἐκβλητέον ... οὓς

Ἡσίοδος καὶ Ὅμηρος ἡμῖν ἐλεγέτην, καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι ποιηταί. Οὗτοι

γάρ που μύθους τοῖς ἀνθρώποις ψευδεῖς συντιθέντες ἔλεγόν τε καὶ

λέγουσι. Ποίους δὴ, ἦ δ᾽ ὅς, καὶ τί αὐτῶν μεμφόμενος λέγεις;

Ὅπερ, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγὼ, χρὴ καὶ πρῶτον καὶ μάλιστα μέμφεσθαι, ἄλλως τε

καὶ ἐάν τις μὴ καλῶς ψεύδηται. Τί τοῦτο; Ὅταν τις εἰκάζῃ κακῶς

τῷ λόγῳ περὶ θεῶν τε καὶ ἡρώων, οἷοί εἰσιν, ὥσπερ γραφεὺς μηδὲν

ἐοικότα γράφων οἷς ἂν ὅμοια βουληθῇ γράψαι.

The same train of thought, and the precepts founded upon it, are

followed up through chaps. 17, 18, and 19; compare De Legg. xii.

p. 941.

Instead of recognizing the popular or dramatic theology as

something distinct from the civil (as Varro did), Plato

suppresses the former as a separate department and merges it in

the latter.

[993] Plato, Repub. ii. c. 21. p. 382. Τὸ ἐν τοῖς λόγοις ψεῦδος

πότε καὶ τί χρήσιμον, ὥστε μὴ ἄξιον εἶναι μίσους; Ἆρ᾽ οὐ πρός

τε τοὺς πολεμίους καὶ τῶν καλουμένων φίλων, ὅταν διὰ μανίαν ἤ

τινα ἄνοιαν κακόν τι ἐπιχειρῶσι πράττειν, τότε ἀποτροπῆς ἕνεκα

ὡς φάρμακον χρήσιμον γίγνεται; ~Καὶ ἐν αἷς νῦν δὴ ἐλέγομεν ταῖς

μυθολογίαις, διὰ τὸ μὴ εἰδέναι ὅπῃ τἀληθὲς ἔχει περὶ τῶν παλαιῶν,

ἀφομοιοῦντες τῷ ἀληθεῖ τὸ ψεῦδος~, ὅτι μάλιστα, οὕτω χρήσιμον

ποιοῦμεν;

The comments which Plato has delivered with so much force in his

Republic, and the enactments which he deduces from them, are in the

main an expansion of that sentiment of condemnation, which he shared

with so many other philosophers, towards a large portion of the Homeric

and Hesiodic stories.[994] But the manner in which he has set forth

this opinion, unfolds to us more clearly the real character of the

mythical narratives. They are creations of the productive minds in the

community, deduced from the supposed attributes of the gods and heroes:

so Plato views them, and in such character he proposes to amend them.

The legislator would cause to be prepared a better and truer picture of

the foretime, because he would start from truer (that is to say, more

creditable) conceptions of the gods and heroes. For Plato rejects the

mythes respecting Zeus and Hêrê, or Thêseus and Peirithöus, not from

any want of evidence, but because they are unworthy of gods and heroes:

he proposes to call forth new mythes, which, though he admits them at

the outset to be fiction, he knows will soon be received as true, and

supply more valuable lessons of conduct.

[994] The censure which Xenophanês pronounced upon the Homeric

legends has already been noticed: Herakleitus (Diogen. Laërt. ix.

1) and Metrodôrus, the companion and follower of Epicurus, were

not less profuse in their invectives, ἐν γράμμασι τοσούτοις τῷ

ποιητῇ λελοιδόρηται (Plutarch, Non posse suaviter vivi secundum

Epicurum, p. 1086). He even advised persons not to be ashamed

to confess their utter ignorance of Homer, to the extent of not

knowing whether Hectôr was a Greek or a Trojan (Plut. _ib._ p.

1094).

We may consider, then, that Plato disapproves of the attempt to

identify the old mythes either with exaggerated history or with

disguised philosophy. He shares in the current faith, without any

suspicion or criticism, as to Orpheus, Palamêdês, Dædalus, Amphiôn,

Thêseus, Achilles, Cheirôn, and other mythical personages;[995] but

what chiefly fills his mind is, the inherited sentiment of deep

reverence for these superhuman characters and for the age to which they

belonged,—a sentiment sufficiently strong to render him not only an

unbeliever in such legends as conflict with it, but also a deliberate

creator of new legends for the purpose of expanding and gratifying it.

The more we examine this sentiment, both in the mind of Plato as well

as in that of the Greeks generally, the more shall we be convinced

that it formed essentially and inseparably a portion of Hellenic

religious faith. The mythe both presupposes, and springs out of, a

settled basis, and a strong expansive force of religious, social, and

patriotic feeling, operating upon a past which is little better than

a blank as to positive knowledge. It resembles history, in so far as

its form is narrative; it resembles philosophy, in so far as it is

occasionally illustrative; but in its essence and substance, in the

mental tendencies by which it is created as well as in those by which

it is judged and upheld, it is a popularized expression of the divine

and heroic faith of the people.

[995] Plato, Republic iii. 4-5. p. 391; De Legg. iii. 1. p. 677.

History of Greece, Volume 01 (of 12) · 第 26 / 27 章