absence from the early Greek literature of love-poetry of any kind
addressed to women; at the same time, it has been briefly pointed out
more than once that love-poetry addressed to boys or men is a very common
phenomenon in this literature. This mere fact in itself would be one
requiring some investigation, in an examination of this kind; but when
the nature of this love-poetry comes to be considered, it will be seen
how particularly important, in the present connection, is this phase of
the Greek mind. For it is a fact which becomes immediately apparent, and
grows more and more evident, the more the matter is looked into, that
while such little love-poetry as does exist, addressed by men to women,
is entirely concerned with the purely sensual aspect of the matter, in
the very considerable volume of poetry addressed by men to men, this
aspect is well-nigh entirely ignored. But obvious though this fact must
be to everyone who reads the early Greek poetry with open eyes, the
influence of our present methods of thought and training has been so
strong, that not only has its importance been strangely ignored by modern
writers, but even the fact itself has been questioned or denied. Under
these circumstances, it will not be superfluous to go into the matter at
some length, for reasons which will appear more clearly when the truth
has been established.[132]
The story of the _Iliad_ is a story without a heroine, a feature which
makes it well-nigh unique among national legends. This fact has struck
various people, and has been accounted for in various ways, the favourite
explanation, perhaps, being that the Greek imagination was severer and
more self-controlled, more statuesque, one may almost say, than that of
other primitive peoples, and was therefore content with a hero whose
sole inspiration lay in love of glory and love of battle, apart from any
gentler emotion whatever.[133] This estimate of the Greek imagination
is no doubt a just one, but there is none the less a strong objection
to seeking in it an explanation of the peculiarities of the _Iliad_. To
regard the Achilles of Homer as a person animated solely by ambition and
military enthusiasm, is, in face of the facts of the case, impossible. As
is well known, Achilles sulks because deprived of Briseis, and is only
roused again by the death of Patroclus; that is to say, his two main
actions are influenced entirely by motives outside of those which are
looked upon as his chief characteristics.[134] In other words, Achilles
is not a military hero at all; the interest one feels in him is due
almost entirely to the emotional side of his character. But while this
much is clear, the question still remains: Why has this emotional hero no
corresponding heroine? for, of course, one cannot regard Briseis as such.
The answer to this is one that will not please a certain class of modern
minds, but that is no proof that it is not true. There is a heroine in
the _Iliad_, and that heroine is Patroclus. The Achilleis is a story of
which the main motive is the love of Achilles for Patroclus.[135] This
solution is astoundingly simple, and yet it took me so long to bring
myself to accept it, that I am quite ready to forgive anyone who feels a
similar hesitation. But those who do accept it, cannot fail to observe,
on further consideration, how thoroughly suitable a motive of this kind
would be in a national Greek epic. For this is the motive running through
the whole of Greek life, till that life was transmuted by the influence
of Macedonia. The lover-warriors Achilles and Patroclus are the direct
spiritual ancestors of the Sacred Band of Thebans, who died to a man on
the field of Chaeronea.
Those who have made any study of the social life of early Greece, will
hardly need to be reminded how important a part this relationship between
older and younger men played there. In some states, such as Megara, it
was specially patronised by the government. Among the Cretans, and to a
certain extent also among the Lacedaemonians,[136] it formed the basis
of the military organisation.[137] At Thespiae, the festival of the
Erotidia was consecrated to this form of love.[138] At Elis there was a
periodical beauty-competition among the youths, the prizes consisting of
arms and armour.[139] A somewhat similar contest took place every spring
at the tomb of the hero Diocles at Megara.[140] Nor was this all. In many
states this relationship came to be looked upon as well-nigh an emblem
of constitutional liberty;[141] so much so, that the tyrants used to
regard it as a standing menace to themselves, and actually took steps to
suppress it.[142] Thus Polycrates destroyed the gymnasium[143] at Samos
ὥσπερ ἀντιτείχισμα τῇ ἰδίᾳ ἀκροπόλει, and others are said to have behaved
in a similar way.[144]
But while the social importance of this relationship cannot be
questioned, its character is equally unmistakable. In principle, and also
in practice, it was pure. Its first and most striking feature, a feature
specially emphasised by almost every ancient writer who alludes at all
to the subject, is its perfect purity. The very idea of sensuality in
connection with it is almost invariably vigorously repudiated,[145] and
the author of the “Erotic Oration” of Demosthenes is but expressing the
universal convictions of his predecessors when he says, δίκαιος ἐραστὴς
οὔτ’ ἂν ποιήσειεν οὐδὲν αἰσχρὸν οὔτ’ ἀξιώσειεν.[146]
How entirely this was the case will be still more apparent when we come
to examine the writers who dealt with the subject. Here it may suffice to
remark that, apart from that main sewer, the Old Attic Comedy, there are,
in all the Greek poetry extant down to the end of the fifth century, but
a couple, or at most three, passages in which sensuality is so much as
suggested in this connection.[147]
To trace the growth and development of this form of love—for love it was
in the most modern sense of the word—would be extremely interesting; but
it would be a long and difficult undertaking, which cannot be attempted
here. The main outlines of its history are, however, sufficiently clear.
Originating in the companionship of the battle-field, where the younger
and weaker combatants would naturally look to their elders for help and
support, it introduced itself also, as we have seen, into those peaceful
exercises which serve to train the soldier; and hence, as soon as we find
civilised communities, we find both the army and the gymnasium organised
with reference to it. When a somewhat more settled condition of affairs
had succeeded to the constant warfare of earlier times, we find it losing
to some extent its distinctively military character, though this never
entirely disappears, as is clear from the institution by Epaminondas of
that “Sacred Band” of which we have had occasion to speak already. And
so, in peace and war alike, it continues throughout classical times a
dominating element in Greek society. Its highest development was due,
of course, to Socrates and his followers; but from the end of the fifth
century onwards it was beginning to lose its hold upon the Greek mind.
The improved position of women, and that improved way of regarding
them which was gradually springing up about this time, could not fail
to affect it prejudicially, while other equally potent causes were at
work to bring about its overthrow; indeed, it is not long before we find
writers speaking in open disparagement of it.[148] And in all probability
this contempt for the “hypocrisy of the philosophers” was now, to a great
extent, justified; for there is little reason to suppose that at this
period that high standard of moral purity, with which this form of love
had been originally associated, was any longer a prominent feature of it.
The Macedonians, in destroying the old Greek states, were destroying at
once the home of its birth and the cause of its existence. It is small
wonder that it failed, like so many other of the old Greek institutions,
to adapt itself to its new surroundings, and that it could not survive
the downfall of those virtues of patriotism and independence of which it
was at once the outcome and the emblem.
But the fragrance of its early purity and beauty was never quite lost,
as long as the classical world remained. In well-nigh all the poetry
dealing with it there is a tone of dignity and chivalry to which the
poetry addressed to women never, perhaps, wholly attained. The charming
grace of the 12th Idyll of Theocritus is unsurpassed in any of his other
works; the passionate despair of the 23rd is unequalled. The contrast in
tone between the 12th and the 5th books of the _Anthology_ is one of the
most remarkable features of that remarkable collection of poems.[149]
Even Catullus, when striving to give expression to a love purer and more
intense than any Roman had ever known, still feels the spell of early
Greece upon him.
“tunc te dilexi, non tantum ut vulgus amicam,
sed pater ut natos diligit et generos,”
he exclaims. “I loved you, not as a man loves a woman, but as a man loves
a youth!”[150]
We have hitherto been speaking chiefly of the social aspect of this
form of love; we can now proceed to examine somewhat more in detail its
influence upon literature. And here two striking facts will at once
present themselves to us, the exact converse of those which met us when
examining the early literary treatment of woman-love. From the earliest
period onwards we shall find the love of man for man taking a prominent
place in poetry, while at the same time this love as there depicted is
remarkable for its chivalrous and unsensual character. In other words,
while the love of man to woman was among the early Greeks a love of the
senses, the love of man to man was a love of the soul.
Of the _Iliad_ we have spoken already, and we need not speak further, for
though, as we have already pointed out, the relations between various
of the Greek heroes there described are strong presumptive evidence of
a state of affairs parallel to that which we know to have existed in
historical times,[151] it is in the nature of an epic to be unable to
supply proof of so positive a kind as is to be found in lyric poetry,
which is generally, anyhow in early times, the expression of the writer’s
actual feelings with reference to actual surrounding circumstances.
In dealing with the lyric writers we shall therefore be on firmer ground.
Here, in the fragments of Archilochus already we find very strong
evidence of the existence of love-poems addressed to men; indeed, it is
impossible satisfactorily to explain _Fr._ 85—
ἀλλά μ’ ὁ λυσιμελής, ὦ ’ταῖρε, δάμναται πόθος,
on any other supposition. This being so, and there being no evidence of
any erotic poems addressed to women, it is justifiable to consider that
_Fr._ 84 also belonged to this same class of poetry[152]; while there
is further no reason to believe that these two passages were unique in
the works of Archilochus. In other words, love-poems addressed to men are
among the earliest known forms of subjective Greek poetry.
But while both Archilochus and Alcman[153] produced works of this kind,
the fragments of these which remain are too scanty for it to be possible
to feel any real certainty as to their exact nature; nor again was either
of these two authors particularly celebrated in ancient times for this
class of composition.
It is different with Alcaeus. Alcaeus was recognised throughout antiquity
as the master _par excellence_ of this form of poetry, and though the
actual fragments of his works on this subject which remain are not much
more satisfactory than is the case with his predecessors, we have most
valuable evidence as to their nature in two poems of Theocritus, the one
professedly and the other evidently imitated from them.[154] These poems
contain certain evidently Alexandrian elements,[155] and, consequently,
it would be unjustifiable to press any particular detail of them as
illustrating Alcaeus, but, at the same time, there seems every reason
to believe that in their general tone they reflect the spirit of their
originals, and it is to their general tone that I wish to draw the
reader’s attention.
To take the first of them (_Idyll_ xxix.). The speaker is about to tell
some unpleasant truths, but he feels constrained to apologise for so
doing (1-4). After a passionate but dignified protestation of his love
(5-8), he appeals to his friend’s better feelings (9), and urges him to
be constant in his affections (10-20).
ποίησαι καλιὰν μίαν εἰν ἑνὶ δενδρίῳ,
ὅπᾳ μηδὲν ἀπίξεται ἄγριον ὄρπετον.
“If you do so,” he continues—
“ἀγαθὸς μὲν ἀκούσεαι
ἐξ ἀστῶν,
and Love will deal kindly with you, and save you from such pangs as I
have suffered (21-24). For we grow older every day, and youth is the
season for forming those friendships which last a lifetime (25-34). Now,
I would readily do anything for your sake, but if you disregard my words,
the time may come when even if you call me I will not answer” (35-40).
But anyone who has ever read this charming little poem will not need to
have its character further forced upon him. The manliness, the dignity,
the courtesy of it, are patent in every line; more striking still to
those who know Greek literature is the spirit of self-negation which
pervades the whole; and all this, combined with a passion which is none
the less real because it is kept rigorously under control. Even in
Alexandrian times it would be hard to find a poem addressed to a woman
which can equal this in its chivalrous tone; to look for such a poem in
early Greek literature would be vain indeed.
In the second of these two pieces (_Idyll_ xxx.), also in all probability
modelled on Alcaeus, the purely erotic side of the matter comes more to
the front than in the one we have just been discussing, but here, too,
one cannot fail to be struck by the quiet earnestness of the tone, which
is as far removed from the good-humoured banter of Asclepiades as it is
from the outspoken brutality of Archilochus.
But perhaps the most striking commentary on this state of feeling is
that furnished by the other section of the Lesbian school of poets. It
has troubled the minds of many modern commentators to think why Sappho
should have addressed love-poems to Anactoria; for those who have formed
a true idea of what “love” between a man and a woman meant in Greece of
the seventh century, and compared this with the love then existing among
men for one another, the question answers itself. Sappho, in addressing
love-poems to Anactoria, was but adapting to her own circumstances and
sex the universal contemporary principles of love-poetry. It seemed so
unnatural then, and so impossible, to connect the sexual instinct with
any pure or noble feeling, that Sappho, because her love was pure and
its ideal a noble one, instinctively and inevitably chose as the object
of this love her fellow-women, just as the men of her time chose their
fellow-men.[156] To the Greek of the period the association of the sexes
inevitably suggested sensuality; Sappho loved Anactoria, just as Alcaeus
loved Lycus, in order that this suggestion might be as far as possible
excluded. Sappho loved a woman because her love was too pure to allow her
to love a man. All this sounds strange—monstrous almost—to modern ears;
and yet, of all the scandal of the centuries which has heaped itself up
around the name of Lesbos, what Sappho herself would have resented most
would perhaps have been the story that she was in love with Phaon.
We have already had occasion to notice that Anacreon, while he was the
originator of love-poetry addressed to women, at the same time addressed
a large number of his poems, in fact, the majority, to boys. In his
case, therefore, it is possible for the first time to compare the two
forms of “love” in the same individual. The comparison is not much to
the advantage of the newer feeling. While the outspoken sensuality of
the poems devoted to women cannot be matter of dispute, even judging
from such fragments of them as remain, the chaste and sober nature of
Anacreon’s relation to his boy-lovers is not only a feature of the extant
fragments, but is also alluded to more than once by ancient writers, who
had his complete works from which to draw their inferences. Thus Aelian
(_Var. Hist._ ix. 4), speaking of the love of Anacreon for Smerdias (cp.
Anacreon, _Fr._ 48) says—
εἶτα ἥσθη τὸ μειράκιον τῷ ἐπαίνῳ καὶ τὸν Ἀνακρέοντα ἠσπάζετο
σεμνῶς εὖ μάλα, ἐρῶντα τῆς ψυχῆς, ἀλλ’ οὐ τοῦ σώματος. μὴ γάρ
τις ἡμῖν διαβαλλέτω, πρὸς θεῶν, τὸν ποιητὴν τὸν Τήϊον, μηδ’
ἀκόλαστον εἶναι λεγέτω.
Maximus Tyrius again, who several times alludes to Anacreon (and always
under the title of ὁ σοφός or ὁ σοφιστής), expressly compares his love to
that of Socrates (xxiv. 9)—
ἡ δὲ τοῦ Τηΐου σοφιστοῦ τέχνη τοῦ αὐτοῦ ἤθους καὶ τρόπου, καὶ
γὰρ πάντων ἐρᾷ τῶν καλῶν καὶ ἐπαινεῖ πάντας. μεστὰ δὲ αὐτοῦ
τὰ ᾄσματα τής Σμερδίου κόμης καὶ τῶν Κλεοβούλου ὀφθαλμῶν καὶ
τῆς Βαθύλλου ὥρας· ἀλλὰ κὰν τούτοις τὴν σωφροσύνην ὅρα. ἔραμαι
δέ τοι κ.τ.λ. (_Fr._ 44) καὶ αὖθις, καλὸν εἶναι τῷ ἐρῶντι τὰ
δίκαια φησί.
A similar compliment to Anacreon seems to glimmer through Athenaeus’
account of Polycrates, (xii. 540 E.)
How deep the difference really went, it is of course impossible, in the
absence of the poet’s complete works, to show, but, as already remarked,
even in the few fragments we have, the distinction between the strong
passion with which he speaks of his boy-loves and the frivolous tone of
his addresses to women is very noticeable.
On the deep significance of the attempt of Ibycus to introduce personal
erotic poetry into the choral hymns, we have also dwelt,[157] so that we
can proceed without further delay to the works which bear the name of
Theognis, a body of poems which, in the present connection, are perhaps
the most interesting in all early Greek literature.
The great mass of these poems are in the form of short pieces addressed
by the writer to his youthful friend Cyrnus, and, as such, are one long
commentary on the subject we are discussing. Regarded from this point
of view, several features at once force themselves upon the attention.
Notwithstanding the fact that many of them are thorough love-poems, yet
not only is the sensual side of the matter entirely ignored, but even
the erotic, as far as that is subjective, is kept rigorously in the
background. The counsel Theognis gives is such as a father might give to
his son—[158]
σοὶ δέ τοι οἷά τε παιδὶ πατὴρ ὑποθήσομαι αὐτός
ἐσθλά. (l. 1049.)
Indeed, he is afraid lest Cyrnus’ eagerness may lead him into temptation,
and so even urges him not to be over-loving.
μή μ’ ἀέκοντα βίῃ κεντῶν ὑπ’ ἄμαξαν ἔλαυνε,
ἐς φιλότητα λίην, Κύρνε, προσελκόμενος.[159] (l. 371.)
He will not thrust himself upon his friend if the latter is unwilling; he
will rather himself bear the pang of parting—
ἀργαλέως μοὶ θυμὸς ἔχει περὶ σῆς φιλότητος·
οὔτε γὰρ ἐχθαίρειν οὔτε φιλεῖν δύναμαι,
γινώσκων χαλεπὸν μέν, ὅταν φίλος ἀνδρὶ γένηται,
ἐχθαίρειν, χαλεπὸν δ’ οὐκ ἐθέλοντα φιλεῖν. (l. 1091.)
Yet he is always ready to sympathise with him when in trouble—
σὺν σοί, Κύρνε, παθόντι κακῶς ἀνιώμεθα πάντα. (l. 655.)
Though Cyrnus does not heed him, he will yet make him immortal by his
songs.[160]
Much more there is, similar in tone, chiefly advice as to the choice of
friends and the like, but it would be an endless task to examine all this
in detail. The reader may open the collection at random, and at once
find further proof of what has been said here. Whatever the subject of
the poems and whatever their occasion, they are all well-nigh equally
remarkable for their dignity, their temperance, their manliness, and for
their most un-Greek virtue of unselfishness, and remarkable, no less,
for the absence from them of that meanness and spitefulness which even
in modern times so often mark the unfortunate lover. It does one good to
read these poems; they are keen and clear like a mouthful of mountain
air; and it does one good, too, to think of the θοῖναι καὶ εἰλάπιναι
where they were sung and where the spirit of them was understood. After
all, modern writers may decry and defame these _amantes contra naturam_
as much as they please, but they cannot deny that they were the first to
teach that the mission of love was to make men better.[161]
The intimate connection between the poems that bear the name of Theognis
and the _Scolia_ has already been noticed; it will not therefore be
surprising to find that the latter are almost as full as the former of
references to our present subject, though, as it is in their nature to be
commonplace, they need not detain us long.
Of the 25 _Scolia_ preserved by Athenaeus,[162] 15 deal with friendships
of this kind;[163] these may be roughly divided into two classes: those
which sing the praises of famous pairs of friends, and those which
contain general remarks on the subject. A striking instance of the first
class is, of course, the well-known _Scolion_ of Callistratus (9-12),
in which it may be observed that in the second verse, where Harmodius
is promised immortality among the celebrated heroes of antiquity, the
two of these specially mentioned are Achilles, the lover of Patroclus,
and Diomed, the lover of Sthenelus. Other examples are _Scol._ 21,
referring to Admetus, and _Scol._ 17, 18 referring to Ajax, the latter
of whom is a hero in the _Scolia_ as early as the time of Alcaeus. In
the second class, perhaps the most interesting are _Scol._ 23, with its
very Theognis-like advice, and _Scol._ 19, of which we have already
spoken.[164]
As is, of course, only to be expected, these poems do not add much to
our knowledge of the subject or its treatment; but it was none the less
worth while to call attention to them, owing to the fact that verse or
doggerel of this kind, though it may not be of much importance itself, is
yet able to furnish important evidence as to the nature of the popular
feeling to which it owes its origin. The views expressed in these poems
are not those of individual authors, they are the views of the whole
community; and it is this fact which gives to the _Scolia_ a far deeper
significance than would at first sight appear to belong to them.
So far, the examination of such fragments of the early Greek literature
as have survived, has resulted in the discovery of a body of evidence
which, if not very voluminous, is yet remarkably unanimous. It remains
to be seen in how far it is possible to supplement this from the works
of the Attic tragedians, which have been preserved in a more perfect
condition. At the first glance the prospect is not very promising; love
altogether, as we have seen, plays a very subordinate part in the Attic
drama, while that form of love which we are immediately considering,
seems at first sight to be especially neglected. And indeed, to a certain
extent, this is really the case, for very obvious reasons. In the early
days of tragedy, when the love-element was well-nigh entirely excluded,
in obedience to the then artistic canons, it was not to be expected that
exception would be made in favour of this particular form of it;[165]
later, when the love-element was gradually forcing itself into the drama,
the playwrights were all, whether they cared to confess it or not, under
the influence of Euripides, who, as we know, was a special student of
feminine nature, and as such, felt only a qualified interest in the
mutual relations of men.[166] But at the same time, a closer examination
of the Attic tragedians will perhaps reveal that this characteristically
Greek emotion has had a greater influence on their work than one would,
at the first moment, be disposed to believe.
Two plays, the _Myrmidones_ of Aeschylus and the _Niobe_ of Sophocles,
are specially mentioned by Athenaeus[167] as introducing ἀρσενικοὶ
ἔρωτες; unfortunately, however, in neither case are the fragments
preserved of a kind to throw much light on the method of treatment
adopted.
The _Myrmidones_, which seems to have been the first play of a trilogy,
treated of the death of Patroclus and Achilles’ lament for him,[168]
which seems, to judge by such expressions as those preserved in _Fr._
135,[169] 138, to have been of a passionate character; but whether the
erotic element was the only interest in the play, and whether it was in
any way developed in the latter part of the trilogy, it is impossible
now to say. The _Niobe_ recounted the misfortunes of that heroine, with
her subsequent grief and exile from Thebes, the scene of the tragedy,
to Lydia. But a striking feature, the most striking, perhaps, if we
may draw any inference from the statement in Athenaeus[170] that this
play was commonly known as ἡ τραγῳδία ἡ παιδεράστρια, was the relation
represented as existing among Niobe’s sons.[171] This would appear to
have been especially emphasised in the account of the death-scene[172]—a
passage which we can gather indirectly to have been the most popular in
the play;[173] whether it was at all prominent in the previous action we
cannot tell; and, indeed, the fragments of the _Niobe_ are of a quite
particularly meagre description.