Chapter VIII.

The Children.

44. The Desirability of Children in Athens.—Besides the oversight of

the slaves the Athenian matron has naturally the care of the children.

A childless home is one of the greatest of calamities. It means a

solitary old age, and still worse, the dying out of the family and the

worship of the family gods. There is just enough of the old

superstitious “ancestor worship” left in Athens to make one shudder at

the idea of leaving the “deified ancestor” without any descendants to

keep up the simple sacrifices to their memory. Besides, public opinion

condemns the childless home as not contributing to the perpetuation of

the city. How Corinth, Thebes, or Sparta will rejoice, if it is plain

that Athens is destroying herself by race suicide! So at least _one_

son will be very welcome. His advent is a day of happiness for the

father, of still greater satisfaction for the young mother.

45. The Exposure of Infants.—How many more children are welcome

depends on circumstances. Children are expensive luxuries. They must

be properly educated and even the boys must be left a fair fortune.[*]

The girls must always have good dowries, or they cannot “marry

according to their station.” Public opinion, as well as the law,

allows a father (at least if he has one or two children already) to

exercise a privilege, which later ages will pronounce one of the

foulest blots on Greek civilization. After the birth of a child there

is an anxious day or two for the poor young mother and the faithful

nurses.—Will he ‘nourish’ it? Are there boys enough already? Is the

disappointment over the birth of a daughter too keen? Does he dread

the curtailment in family luxuries necessary to save up for an

allowance or dowry for the little stranger? Or does the child promise

to be puny, sickly, or even deformed? If any of these arguments carry

adverse weight, there is no appeal against the father’s decision. He

has until the fifth day after the birth to decide. In the interval he

can utter the fatal words, “Expose it!” The helpless creature is then

put in a rude cradle, or more often merely in a shallow pot and placed

near some public place; _e.g._ the corner of the Agora, or near a

gymnasium, or the entrance to a temple. Here it will soon die of mere

hunger and neglect unless rescued. If the reasons for exposure are

evident physical defects, no one will touch it. Death is certain. If,

however, it seems healthy and well formed, it is likely to be taken up

and cared for. Not out of pure compassion, however. The harpies who

raise slaves and especially slave girls, for no honest purposes, are

prompt to pounce upon any promising looking infant. They will rear it

as a speculation; if it is a girl, they will teach it to sing, dance,

play. The race of light women in Athens is thus really recruited from

the very best families. The fact is well known, but it is constantly

winked at. Aristophanes, the comic poet, speaks of this exposure of

children as a common feature of Athenian life. Socrates declares his

hearers are vexed when he robs them of pet ideas, “like women who have

had their children taken from them.” There is little or nothing for

men of a later day to say of this custom save condemnation.[+]

[*] The idea of giving a lad a “schooling” and then turning him loose

to earn his own living in the world was contrary to all Athenian theory

and practice.

[+] About the only boon gained by this foul usage was the fact that,

thanks to it, the number of physically unfit persons in Athens was

probably pretty small, for no one would think of bringing up a child

which, in its first babyhood, promised to be a cripple.

46. The Celebration of a Birth.—But assuredly in a majority of cases,

the coming of a child is more than welcome. If a girl, tufts of wool

are hung before the door of the happy home; if a boy, there is set out

an olive branch. Five days after the birth, the nurse takes the baby,

wrapped almost to suffocation in swaddling bands, to the family hearth

in the _andron_, around which she runs several times, followed

doubtless, in merry, frolicking procession, by most of the rest of the

family. The child is now under the care of the family gods. There is

considerable eating and drinking. Exposure now is no longer possible.

A great load is off the mind of the mother. But on the “tenth day”

comes the real celebration and the feast. This is the “name day.” All

of the kinsmen are present. The house is full of incense and garlands.

The cook is in action in the kitchen. Everybody brings simple gifts,

along with abundant wishes of good luck. There is a sacrifice, and

during the ensuing feast comes the naming of the child. Athenian names

are very short and simple.[*] A boy has often his father’s name, but

more usually his grandfather’s, as, _e.g._, Themistocles, the son of

Neocles, the son of Themistocles: the father’s name being usually

added in place of a surname. In this way certain names will become a

kind of family property, and sorrowful is the day when there is no

eligible son to bear them!

The child is now a recognized member of the community. His father has

accepted him as a legitimate son, one of his prospective heirs,

entitled in due time to all the rights of an Athenian citizen.

[*] Owing to this simplicity and the relatively small number of

Athenian names, a directory of the city would have been a perplexing

affair.

47. Life and Games of Young Children.—The first seven years of a Greek

boy’s life are spent with his nurses and his mother. Up to that time

his father takes only unofficial interest in his welfare. Once past the

first perilous “five days,” an Athenian baby has no grounds to complain

of his treatment. Great pains are taken to keep him warm and well

nourished. A wealthy family will go to some trouble to get him a

skilful nurse, those from Sparta being in special demand, as knowing

the best how to rear healthy infants. He has all manner of toys, and

Aristotle the philosopher commends their frequent donation; otherwise,

he says, children will be always “breaking things in the house.”

Babies have rattles. As they grow older they have dolls of painted

clay or wax, sometimes with movable hands and feet, and also toy

dishes, tables, wagons, and animals. Lively boys have whipping toys,

balls, hoops, and swings. There is no lack of pet dogs, nor of all

sorts of games on the blind man’s bluff and “tag” order.[*] Athenian

children are, as a class, very active and noisy. Plato speaks

feelingly of their perpetual “roaring.” As they grow larger, they

begin to escape more and more from the narrow quarters of the courts of

the house, and play in the streets.

[*] It is not always easy to get the exact details of such ancient

games, for the “rules” have seldom come down to us; but generally

speaking, the games of Greek children seem extremely like those of the

twentieth century.

[Illustration: The Maternal Slipper]

48. Playing in the Streets.—Narrow, dirty, and dusty as the streets

seem, children, even of good families, are allowed to play in them.

After a rain one can see boys floating toy boats of leather in every

mud puddle, or industriously making mud pies. In warm weather the

favorite if cruel sport is to catch a beetle, tie a string to its legs,

let it fly off, then twitch it back again. Leapfrog, hide-and-seek,

etc., are in violent progress down every alley. The streets are not

all ideal playgrounds. Despite genteel ideas of dignity and

moderation, there is a great deal of foul talk and brawling among the

passers, and Athenian children have receptive eyes and ears. Yet on

the other hand, there is a notable regard and reverence for childhood.

With all its frequent callousness and inhumanity, Greek sentiment

abhors any brutality to young children. Herodotus the historian tells

of the falling of a roof, whereby one hundred and twenty school

children perished, as being a frightful calamity,[*] although

recounting cold-blooded massacres of thousands of adults with never a

qualm; and Herodotus is a very good spokesman for average Greek

opinion.

[*] Herodotus, VI. 27.

49. The First Stories and Lessons.—Athens has no kindergartens. The

first teaching which children will receive is in the form of fables and

goblin tales from their mothers and nurses,—usually with the object of

frightening them into “being good,”—tales of the spectral Lamiæ, or of

the horrid witch Mormo who will catch nasty children; or of Empusa, a

similar creature, who lurks in shadows and dark rooms; or of the

Kabaloi, wild spirits in the woods. Then come the immortal fables of

Æsop with their obvious application towards right conduct. Athenian

mothers and teachers have no two theories as to the wisdom of corporeal

punishment. The rod is never spared to the spoiling of the child,

although during the first years the slipper is sufficient. Greek

children soon have a healthy fear of their nurses; but they often learn

to love them, and funeral monuments will survive to perpetuate their

grateful memory.

50. The Training of Athenian Girls.—Until about seven years old

brothers and sisters grow up in the _Gynæconitis_ together. Then the

boys are sent to school. The girls will continue about the house until

the time of their marriage. It is only in the rarest of cases that the

parents feel it needful to hire any kind of tutor for _them_. What the

average girl knows is simply what her mother can teach her. Perhaps a

certain number of Athenian women (of good family, too) are downright

illiterate; but this is not very often the case. A normal girl will

learn to read and write, with her mother for school mistress.[*] Very

probably she will be taught to dance, and sometimes to play on some

instrument, although this last is not quite a proper accomplishment for

young women of good family. Hardly any one dreams of giving a woman

any systematic intellectual training.[+] Much more important it is

that she should know how to weave, spin, embroider, dominate the cook,

and superintend the details of a dinner party. She will have hardly

time to learn these matters thoroughly before she is “given a husband,”

and her childhood days are forever over (see § 27).

[*] There has come down to us a charming Greek terra-cotta (it is true,

not from Athens) showing a girl seated on her mother’s knee, and

learning from a roll which she holds.

[+] Plato suggested in his _Republic_ (V. 451 f.) that women should

receive the same educational opportunities as the men. This was a

proposition for Utopia and never struck any answering chord.

Meantime her brother has been started upon a course of education which,

both in what it contains and in what it omits, is one of the most

interesting and significant features of Athenian life.

A Day in Old Athens; a Picture of Athenian Life · 第 8 / 21 章