THE IMAGE OF ÆSCULAPIUS.
A simple image of a god may be regarded as a symbol. When the image
has connected with it one or more figures to indicate the qualities
or functions of the divinity, we have then, strictly speaking, an
allegorical representation. Æsculapius was sometimes shown in the one way
and sometimes in the other. Thus, he was occasionally to be seen at Rome,
and elsewhere, in the form of a serpent; and, at the Epidaurian Grove,
for example, as a man having in connection with him a serpent, a dog, and
other things.
As is implied in what I have just said, there was no set, invariable mode
of portrayal of Æsculapius. This fact should be clearly understood. But
let it not be supposed that it is by any means singular. It will occur
to the well-informed reader that the same holds true in regard to Zeus,
Apollo, Venus, and, indeed, all other divinities. Says Müller: “The
so-called ideals of the Grecian gods are not types; they do not preclude
the freedom of the artist; they rather contain the strongest impulse to
new, genial creations.”[151] It is, perhaps, self-evident that a statue
of a god must necessarily be quite ideal; and, of course, an ideal is
without absolute permanency. Still, it remains true that in the case of
Æsculapius, as well as that of every other deity, there was a more or
less definite conventional way of representing him. This, however, was
largely dependent on the presence of attributes. Thus, it would be not
only inconsistent with custom, but almost futile, to attempt to delineate
him without the presence of a serpent.
The most magnificent representation of Æsculapius was the one at
Epidaurus. A description of it has already been given. This fine work of
art disappeared at an early day. The vandals could not be expected to
spare it; the gold in its composition was fatal to its permanency. It was
borne on coins of Epidaurus. According to Strabo,[152] a copy of it was
taken to the Galatian town, Pessinus, not Rome, as is often said. Several
other places were similarly favored.
There was a very celebrated statue of Æsculapius at the renowned
Asclepion of Pergamus, the production of the artist Pyromachus, as well
as one similar to that of Epidaurus. It became the prevailing type
in art. In it the god was represented as a mature man of benevolent
expression, with his rather long hair bound with a fillet, and in
his right hand he held a staff enwreathed with a serpent. He wore a
himation[153] drawn tight over the left arm and breast. The whole right
side from the waist up was uncovered. His attitude was that of a person
ready to render assistance. “We can recognize,” says Müller, “the figure
with tolerable certainty as the most usual representation of the god on
numerous coins of Pergamus.”[154]
The well-known statue of Æsculapius at Berlin resembles that at Pergamus;
and the same is true of one at Florence, and others. That of Berlin has
the serpent-wreathed staff, or support, placed on the left side. This
appears to have been frequently done. An instance of it I have observed
in a gem bearing Æsculapius and Hygeia, taken from a tomb at Thron,—a
piece of work of the Roman period. It is shown in General Di Cesnola’s
interesting work.[155]
While Æsculapius was made to appear aged in some instances, as in the
Epidaurian representation, he was sometimes presented in youthful form,
and beardless, like his father, Apollo. And this reminds me of the story
told of Dyonysius, King of Sicily, that, on conquering the Morea, he
ordered the beard to be taken off the Epidaurian statue of the god, for
the reason that it was unbecoming and unjust for the son to have a beard
when the father had none. Possibly if it had not been a golden one it
would not have been molested.
I may venture to say that both aged and youthful representations of
Æsculapius are open to criticism. An ideal physician should be, as in
the statue at Pergamus, a man in his prime, or, in other words, mature,
but neither young nor old. The immature man is apt to be defective in
judgment, and the superannuated one is nearly always of excessively
routine practice and ignorant of recent advances in his profession.
By way of conclusion, I will say a few words about the famous
colossal head of Æsculapius, originally colored and decorated with
a bronze wreath, now in the British Museum, where it has been since
1866. It represents, with marked freedom and breadth of execution, a
finely-developed man of middle age, with a cast of countenance similar to
that of the Phidian Zeus. The beard is of moderate length and is waved
like the somewhat long hair. This is really one of the noblest remnants
of Grecian art. Nichols, in whose work[156] an engraving of it is given
as a frontispiece, just as it is in this one, regards it “as scarcely
less remarkable” than the celebrated “Venus of Milo” in the Louvre, both
of which were found, the former in 1828, on the island of Melos. It is
considered to be the work of an artist of the Macedonian period, about
B.C. 300,—a time when the Greek sculptor had attained perfect mastery of
his art.