Perpetual warfare, pushed to the last extremity of hostile rage,
would in no long time have consumed or ruined the little tribes whose
territories occupied only a few adjacent valleys, always open to
invasion: the necessity of mutual forbearance for general safety would
naturally suggest the prudence of entering into friendly associations,
without any ulterior views, either of aggrandisement, or of protection
against a common enemy. Such an association, formed among independent
neighbouring tribes for the regulation of their mutual intercourse, and
thus distinguished on the one hand from confederations for purposes
offensive or defensive, and on the other, from the continued friendly
relations subsisting among independent members of the same race, is the
one properly described by the Greek term _amphictyony_.
This Greek word, which we shall be obliged to borrow, has been supposed
by some ancient and modern writers to have been derived from the name
of Amphictyon, the son of Deucalion, who is said to have founded the
most celebrated of the Amphictyonic associations, that which is always
to be understood under the title of the Amphictyonic Confederacy. There
can, however, be scarcely any reasonable doubt that this Amphictyon is
a merely fictitious person, invented to account for the institution
attributed to him, the author of which, if it was the work of any
individual, was probably no better known than those of the other
amphictyonies, which did not happen to become so famous.
The term “amphictyony,” which has probably been adapted to the legend,
and would be more properly written “amphictiony,” denotes a body
referred to a local centre of union, and in itself does not imply any
national affinity: and, in fact, the associations bearing this name
include several tribes, which were but very remotely connected together
by descent. But the local centre of union appears to have been always
a religious one--a common sanctuary, the scene of periodical meetings
for the celebration of a common worship. It is probable that many
amphictyonies once existed in Greece, all trace of which has been lost:
and even with regard to those which happen to have been rescued from
total oblivion, our information is for the most part extremely defective.
Of all such institutions the most celebrated and important was the one
known, without any other local distinction, as the Amphictyonic League
or council. This last appellation refers to the fact that the affairs
of the whole Amphictyonic body were transacted by a congress, composed
of deputies sent by the several states according to rules established
from time immemorial. One peculiar feature of this congress was, that
its meetings were held at two different places. There were two regularly
convened every year; one in the spring, at Delphi, the other in the
autumn, near the little town of Anthela, within the pass of Thermopylæ,
at a temple of Demeter.
The confederate tribes are variously enumerated by different authors. A
comparison of their lists enables us to ascertain the greater part of
the names, and to form a probable conjecture as to the rest; but it also
leads us to conclude that some changes took place at a remote period in
the constitution of the council, as to which tradition is silent. The
most authentic list of the Amphictyonic tribes contains the following
names: Thessalians, Bœotians, Dorians, Ionians, Perrhæbians, Magnetes,
Locrians, Œtæans or Enianians, Phthiots or Achæans of Phthia, Malians
or Melians, and Phocians. The orator Æschines, who furnishes this list,
shows, by mentioning the number twelve, that one name is wanting. The
other lists supply two names to fill up the vacant place; the Dolopes,
and the Delphians. It seems not improbable that the former were finally
supplanted by the Delphians, who appear to have been a distinct race from
the Phocians.
The mere inspection of this list is sufficient to prove at once the
high antiquity of the institution and the imperfection of our knowledge
with regard to its early history. It is clear that the Dorians must
have become members of the Amphictyonic body before the conquest, which
divided them into several states, each incomparably more powerful than
most of the petty northern tribes, which possessed an equal number of
votes in the council. It may however be doubted, whether they were among
the original members, and did not rather take the place of one of the
tribes which they had dislodged from their seats in the neighbourhood of
Delphi, perhaps the Dryopes.
On the other hand the Thessalians were probably not received into the
league, before they made their appearance in Thessaly, which is commonly
believed to have taken place only twenty years before the Dorian invasion
of the Peloponnesus. It is therefore highly probable that they were
admitted in the room of some other tribe, which had lost its independence
through the convulsions of this eventful period.
The constitution of the council rested on the supposition, once perhaps
not very inconsistent with the fact, of a perfect equality among the
tribes represented by it. Each tribe, however feeble, had two votes in
the deliberation of the congress: none, however powerful, had more. The
order in which the right of sending representatives to the council was
exercised by the various states included in one Amphictyonic tribe was
perhaps regulated by private agreement; but, unless one state usurped the
whole right of its tribe, it is manifest that a petty tribe, which formed
but one community, had greatly the advantage over Sparta, or Argos, which
could only be represented in their turn, the more rarely in proportion to
the magnitude of the tribe to which they belonged. Besides the council
which held its sessions either in the temple, or in some adjacent
building, there was an Amphictyonic assembly, which met in the open air,
and was composed of persons residing in the place where the congress was
held, and of the numerous strangers who were drawn to it by curiosity,
business, or devotion.
[Illustration: A GREEK WARRIOR]
It is evident that a constitution such as we have described could not
have been suffered to last, if it had been supposed that any important
political interests depended on the decision of the council. But,
in fact, it was not commonly viewed as a national congress for such
purposes; its ordinary functions were chiefly, if not altogether,
connected with religion, and it was only by accident that it was ever
made subservient to political ends. The original objects, or at least the
essential character, of the institution, seem to be faithfully expressed
in the terms of the oath, preserved by Æschines, which bound the members
of the league to refrain from utterly destroying any Amphictyonic city,
and from cutting off its supply of water, even in war, and to defend the
sanctuary and the treasures of the Delphic god from sacrilege. In this
ancient and half-symbolical form we perceive two main functions assigned
to the council; to guard the temple, and to restrain the violence of
hostility among Amphictyonic states. There is no intimation of any
confederacy against foreign enemies, except for the protection of the
temple; nor of any right of interposing between members of the league,
unless where one threatens the existence of another.
A review of the history of the council shows that it was almost powerless
for good, except perhaps as a passive instrument, and that it was only
active for purposes which were either unimportant or pernicious. In the
great national struggles it lent no strength to the common cause; but
it now and then threw a shade of sanctity over plans of ambition or
revenge. It sometimes assumed a jurisdiction uncertain in its limits,
over its members; but it seldom had the power of executing its sentences,
and commonly committed them to the party most interested in exacting
the penalty. Thus it punished the Dolopes of Scyros for piracy, by the
hands of the Athenians, who coveted their island. But its most legitimate
sphere of action lay in cases where the honour and safety of the Delphic
sanctuary were concerned; and in these it might safely reckon on general
co-operation from all the Greeks. Thus it could act with dignity and
energy in a case where a procession, passing through the territory of
Megara towards Delphi, was insulted by some Megarians, and could not
obtain redress from the government; the Amphictyonic tribunal punished
the offenders with death or banishment.
[Sidenote: [590 B.C.]]
A much more celebrated and important instance of a similar intervention,
was that which gave occasion to the war above alluded to, which is
commonly called the Crissæan, or the First Sacred War. Crissa appears to
be the same town which is sometimes named Cirrha. Situate on that part
of the Corinthian Gulf which was called from it the Gulf of Crissa, it
commanded a harbour, much frequented by pilgrims from the West, who came
to Delphi by sea, and was also mistress of a fruitful tract, called the
Cirrhæan Plain. It is possible that there may have been real ground for
the charge which was brought against the Crissæans, of extortion and
violence used towards the strangers who landed at their port, or passed
through their territory: one ancient author, who however wrote nearly
three centuries later, assigned as the immediate occasion of the war an
outrage committed on some female pilgrims as they were returning from the
oracle. It is however at least equally probable, that their neighbours of
Delphi had long cast a jealous and a wishful eye on the customs by which
Crissa was enriched, and considered all that was there exacted from the
pilgrims as taken from the Delphic god, who might otherwise have received
it as an offering.
A complaint, however founded, was in the end preferred against Crissa
before the Amphictyons, who decreed a war against the refractory
city. They called in the aid of the Thessalians, who sent a body of
forces under Eurylochus; and their cause was also actively espoused by
Clisthenes, tyrant of Sicyon: and, according to the Athenian tradition,
Solon assisted them with important advice. They consulted the offended
god, who enjoined, as the condition of success in the war, that they
should cause the sea to beat upon his domain. In compliance with this
oracle, at the suggestion of Solon, they vowed to dedicate the Crissæans
and their territory to the god, by enslaving them, and making their land
a waste forever. If the prospect of such signal vengeance animated the
assailants, the besieged were no doubt goaded to a more obstinate defence
by the threat of extermination. The war is said to have lasted ten years,
and at length to have been brought to a close by a stratagem, which we
could wish not to have found imputed to Solon. He is reported to have
poisoned the waters of the Plistus, from which the city was supplied,
and thus to have reduced the garrison to a state in which they were
easily overpowered. When the town had fallen, the vow of the conquerors
was literally fulfilled. Crissa was razed to the ground, its harbour
choked up, its fruitful plain turned into a wilderness. This triumph was
commemorated by the institution of gymnastic games, called the Pythian,
in the room of a more ancient and simple festival. The Amphictyons,
who celebrated the new games with the spoils of Crissa, were appointed
perpetual presidents.
THE ORACLE AT DELPHI
[Sidenote: [589-585 B.C.]]
As the Delphic oracle was the object to which the principal duties
of the Amphictyons related, it might have been imagined to have been
under their control, and thus to have afforded them an engine by which
they might, at least secretly, exert a very powerful influence over
the affairs of Greece. But though this engine was not unfrequently
wielded for political purposes, it appears not to have been under the
management of the council, but of the leading citizens of Delphi, who
had opportunity of constant and more efficacious access to the persons
employed in revealing the supposed will of the god. In early times the
oracle was often consulted, not merely for the sake of learning the
unknown future, but for advice and direction, which, as it was implicitly
followed, really determined the destiny of those who received it. The
power conferred by such an instrument was unbounded; and it appears, on
the whole, not to have been ill applied: but the honour of its beneficial
effects must be ascribed almost entirely to the wisdom and patriotism of
the ruling Delphians or of the foreigners who concerted with them in the
use of the sacred machinery. But the authority of the oracle itself was
gradually weakened, partly by the progress of new opinions, and partly by
the abuse which was too frequently made of it. The organ of the prophetic
god was a woman, of an age more open to bribery than to any other kind
of seduction;[13] and, even before the Persian wars, several instances
occurred in which she had notoriously sold her answers. The credulity
of individuals might notwithstanding be little shaken: but a few such
disclosures would be sufficient to deprive the oracle of the greater part
of its political influence.
NATIONAL FESTIVALS
The character of a national institution, which the Amphictyonic council
affected, but never really acquired, more truly belonged to the public
festivals, which, though celebrated within certain districts, were
not peculiar to any tribe, but were open to all who could prove their
Hellenic blood.[b]
[Illustration: GREEK DANCING GIRL
(After Hope)]
From very early times, it had been customary among the Greeks to hold
numerous meetings for purposes of festivity and social amusement. A
foot-race, a wrestling match, or some other rude trial of bodily strength
and activity, formed originally the principal entertainment, which
seems to have been very similar in character to our country wakes. The
almost ceaseless warfare among the little Grecian states gave especial
value to military exercises, which were accordingly ordinary in those
games. The connection of these games with the warlike character may
have occasioned their introduction at funerals in honour of the dead;
a custom which, we learn from Homer, was in his time ancient. But all
the violence of the early ages was unable to repress that elegance of
imagination which seems congenial to Greece. Very anciently a contention
for a prize in poetry and music was a favourite entertainment of the
Grecian people; and when connected, as it often was, with some ceremony
of religion, drew together large assemblies of both sexes. A festival of
this kind in the little island of Delos, at which Homer assisted, brought
a numerous concourse from different parts by sea: and Hesiod informs us
of a splendid meeting for the celebration of various games at Chalcis in
Eubœa, where himself obtained the prize for poetry and song. The contest
in music and poetry seems early to have been particularly connected with
the worship of Apollo. When this was carried from the islands of the
Ægean to Delphi, a prize for poetry was instituted; and thence appear
to have arisen the Pythian games. But Homer shows that games, in which
athletic exercises and music and dancing were alternately introduced,
made a common amusement of the courts of princes; and before his time
the manner of conducting them was so far reduced to a system that public
judges of the games were of the established magistracy. Thus improved,
the games greatly resembled the tilts and tournaments of the ages of
chivalry. Only men of high rank presumed to engage in them; but a large
concourse of all orders attended as spectators; and to keep regularity
among these was perhaps the most necessary office of the judges. But the
most solemn meetings, drawing together people of distinguished rank and
character, often from distant parts, were at the funerals of eminent men.
The paramount sovereigns of the Peloponnesus did not disdain to attend
these, which were celebrated with every circumstance of magnificence and
splendour that the age could afford. The funeral of Patroclus, described
in the _Iliad_, may be considered as an example of what the poet could
imagine in its kind most complete. The games, in which prizes were there
contended for, were the chariot-race, the foot-race, boxing, wrestling,
throwing the quoit and the javelin, shooting with the bow, and fencing
with the spear. And in times when none could be rich or powerful but the
strong and active, the expert at martial exercises, all those trials of
skill appear to have been esteemed equally becoming men of the highest
rank; though it may seem, from the prizes offered and the persons
contending at the funeral of Patroclus, the poet himself saw, in the game
of the cestus, some incongruity with exalted characters.
[Sidenote: [_ca._ 884 B.C.]]
Traditions are preserved of games celebrated in Elis, upon several
great occasions, in very early times, with more than ordinary pomp, by
assemblies of chiefs from different parts of Greece. Homer mentions such
at Elis under King Augeas, contemporary with Hercules, and grandfather
of one of the chiefs who commanded the Elean troops in the Trojan War;
and again at Buprasium in Elis, for the funeral of Amarynceus, while
Nestor was yet in the vigour of youth. But it does not at all appear from
Homer that in his time, or ever before him, any periodical festival was
established like that which afterward became so famous under the title
of the Olympiad or the Olympian contest, or, as our writers, translating
the Latin phrase, have commonly termed it, the Olympian Games. On the
contrary, every mention of such games, in his extant works, shows them to
have been only occasional solemnities; and Strabo has remarked that they
were distinguished by a characteristical difference from the Olympian.
In these the honour derived from receiving publicly a crown or chaplet,
formed of a branch of oleaster, was the only reward of the victor; but
in Homer’s games the prizes, not merely honorary, were intrinsically
valuable, and the value was often very considerable.
After Homer’s age, through the long troubles ensuing from the Dorian
conquest, and the great change made in the population of the country, the
customs and institutions of the Peloponnesians were so altered that even
memory of the ancient games was nearly lost.
THE OLYMPIAN GAMES
In this season of turbulence and returning barbarism, Iphitus, a
descendant, probably grandson, of Oxylus (though so deficient were the
means of transmitting information to posterity that we have no assurance
even of his father’s name), succeeded to the throne of Elis. This prince
was of a genius that might have produced a more brilliant character in a
more enlightened age, but which was perhaps more beneficial to mankind
in the rough times in which he lived. Active and enterprising, but
not by inclination a warrior, he was anxious to find a remedy for the
disorderly situation of his country. He sent a solemn embassy to Delphi
to supplicate information from the deity of the place, “How the anger of
the gods, which threatened total destruction to the Peloponnesus through
endless hostilities among its people, might be averted.” He received for
answer, what himself, as a judicious critic has observed, had probably
suggested, “That the Olympic festival must be restored; for the neglect
of that solemnity had brought on the Greeks the indignation of the god
Jupiter, to whom it was dedicated, and of the hero Hercules, by whom
it had been instituted: and that a cessation of arms must therefore
immediately be proclaimed for all cities desirous of partaking in it.”
This response of the god was promulgated throughout Greece; and Iphitus,
in obedience to it, caused the armistice to be proclaimed. But the
other Peloponnesians, full of respect for the authority of the oracle,
yet uneasy at the ascendancy thus assumed by the Eleans, sent a common
deputation to Delphi, to inquire concerning the authenticity of the
divine mandate reported to them. The Pythoness however, seldom averse to
authorise the schemes of kings and legislators, adhered to her former
answer and commanded the Peloponnesians “to submit to the direction and
authority of the Eleans, in ordering and establishing the ancient laws
and customs of their forefathers.”
Supported thus by the oracle, and encouraged by the ready acquiescence
of all the Peloponnesians, Iphitus proceeded to model his institution.
Jupiter, the chief of the gods, being now the acknowledged patron of the
plan, and the prince himself, under Apollo, the promulgator of his will,
it was ordained that a festival should be held at the temple of Jupiter
at Olympia, near the town of Pisa in Elis, open to the whole Greek
nation; and that it should be repeated at the termination of every fourth
year: that this festival should consist in solemn sacrifices to Jupiter
and Hercules, and in games celebrated to their honour; and as wars might
often prevent not only individuals, but whole states, from partaking
in the benefits with which the gods would reward those who properly
shared in the solemnity, it was ordained under the same authority, that
an armistice should take place throughout Greece for some time before
the commencement of the festival, and continue for some time after its
conclusion. For his own people, the Eleans, Iphitus procured an advantage
never perhaps enjoyed in equal extent by any other people. A tradition
was current that the Heraclidæ, on appointing Oxylus at the same time
to the throne of Elis and to the guardianship of the temple of Olympian
Jupiter, had consecrated all Elis to the god under sanction of an oath,
and denounced the severest curses, not only on any who should invade
it, but also on all who should not defend it against invaders. Iphitus
procured universal acquiescence to the authority of this tradition; and
the deference of the Grecian people towards it, during many ages, is not
among the least remarkable circumstances of Grecian history. A reputation
of sacredness became attached to the whole Elean people as the hereditary
priesthood of Jupiter, and a pointed difference in character and pursuits
arose between them and the other Greeks. Little disposed to ambition,
and regardless even of the pleasures of a town-life, their general turn
was to rural business and rural amusements. Elsewhere the country was
left to hinds and herdsmen, who were mostly slaves; men of property,
for security as well as for pursuits of ambition and pleasure, resided
in fortified towns. But the towns of Elis, Elis itself the capital,
remained unfortified. In republican governments however civil contention
would arise. Within a narrow territory the implication of domestic
party-politics with foreign interests could not be entirely obviated; and
thus foreign wars would ensue. But to the time of Polybius, who saw the
liberty of Greece expire, the Eleans maintained their general character,
and in a great degree their ancient privileges; whence they were then the
wealthiest people of the Peloponnesus, and yet the richest of them mostly
resided upon their estates, and many, as that historian avers, without
ever visiting Elis.
_Character of the Games_
At the Olympian festival, as established by Iphitus, the foot-race,
distinguished by the name of _stadion_, is said to have been the only
game exhibited; whether the various other exercises familiar in Homer’s
age had fallen into oblivion, or the barbarism and poverty, superinduced
by the violent and lasting troubles which followed the return of the
Heraclidæ, forbade those of greater splendour.
Afterwards, as the growing importance of the meeting occasioned inquiry
concerning what had been practised of old, or excited invention
concerning what might be advantageously added new, the games were
multiplied. The _diaulos_, a more complicated foot-race, was added at
the fourteenth Olympiad; wrestling, and the _pentathlon_ or game of
five exercises, at the eighteenth; boxing at the twenty-third; the
chariot-race was not restored till the twenty-fifth, of course not till
a hundred years after the institution of the festival; the _pancration_
and the horse-race were added in the thirty-third.
So much Pausanias has asserted; apparently from the Olympian register,
which on other occasions he has quoted. Originally the sacrifices,
processions, and various religious ceremonies apparently formed the
principal pageantry of the meeting. Afterwards perhaps the games became
the greater inducement for the extraordinary resort of company to
Olympia; though the religious ceremonies continued still to increase in
magnificence as the festival gained importance. The temple, like that of
Delphi, became an advantageous repository for treasure. A mart or fair
was a natural consequence of a periodical assembly of multitudes in one
place; and whatever required extensive publicity, whatever was important
for all the scattered members of the Greek nation to know, would be most
readily communicated, and most solemnly, by proclamation at the Olympian
festival. Hence treaties by mutual agreement were often proclaimed at
Olympia; and sometimes columns were erected there at the joint expense of
the contracting parties, with the treaties engraved.
Thus the Olympian meeting to a not inconsiderable degree supplied the
want of a common capital for the Greek nation; and, with a success far
beyond what the worthy founder’s imagination, urged by his warmest
wishes, could reach, contributed to the advancement of arts, particularly
of the fine arts, of commerce, of science, of civilised manners, of
liberal sentiments, and of friendly communication among all the Grecian
people. Such was the common feeling of these various advantages, it
became established as a divine law that, whatever wars were going forward
among the republics, there should be a truce, not only during the
festival, but also for some days before and after; so that persons from
all parts of Greece might safely attend it.
The advantages and gratifications in which the whole nation thus became
interested, and the particular benefits accruing to the Eleans, excited
attempts to establish or improve other similar meetings in different
parts of Greece. Three of these, the Delphian, Isthmian, and Nemean,
though they never equalled the celebrity and splendour of the Olympian,
acquired considerable fame and importance. Each was consecrated to a
different deity. In the Delphic, next in consideration to the Olympic,
Apollo was honoured; the Delphian people were esteemed his ministers;
the Amphictyonic council were the allowed protectors and regulators of
the institution. The Isthmian had its name from the Corinthian Isthmus,
near the middle of which, overlooking the scene of the solemnity,
stood a temple of the god Neptune, venerated by the Corinthian people,
administrators of the ceremonies, as their patron.
At the Nemean, sacred to Juno, the Argives (who esteemed her the tutelary
deity of their state) presided. All these meetings, like the Olympian,
were, in war as in peace, open to all Grecian people; the faith of gods
as well as of men being considered as plighted for protection of all,
under certain rules, going to, staying at, and returning from them. All
were also, like the Olympian, held at intervals of four years; so that,
taking their years in turn, it was provided that in every summer, in
the midst of the military season, there should be a respite of those
hostilities among the republics which were otherwise so continually
desolating Greece; and though this beneficial regulation was under some
pretences occasionally overborne by powerful states, yet the sequel of
history shows it to have been of very advantageous efficacy.[c]
MONARCHIES AND OLIGARCHIES
The enterprises of the heroic age, as we see from the example of the
Trojan War itself, often led to the extinction, or expulsion, of a royal
family, or of its principal members; and no principle appears to have
been generally recognised which rendered it necessary, in such cases,
to fill a vacant throne or to establish a new dynasty, while every such
calamity inevitably weakened the authority of the kings, and made them
more dependent on the nobles, who, as an order, were not affected by
any disasters to individuals. But the great convulsions which attended
the Thessalian, Bœotian, and Dorian migrations, contributed still more
effectually to the same end. In most parts of Greece they destroyed or
dislodged the line of the ancient kings, who, when they were able to
seek new seats, left behind them the treasures and the strongholds which
formed the main supports of their power: and, though the conquerors were
generally accustomed to a kingly government, it must commonly have lost
something of its vigour when transplanted to a new country, where it was
subject to new conditions, and where the prince was constantly reminded,
by new dangers, of the obligations which he owed to his companions in
arms. Yet, even this must be considered rather as the occasion which
led to the abolition of the heroic monarchy, than as the cause: that
undoubtedly lay much deeper, and is to be sought in the character of the
people--in that same energy and versatility which prevented it from ever
stiffening, even in its infancy, in the mould of oriental institutions,
and from stopping short, in any career which it had once opened, before
it had passed through every stage.
It seems to have been seldom, if ever, that royalty was abolished by
a sudden and violent revolution; the title often long survived the
substance, and this was extinguished only by slow successive steps.
These consisted in dividing it among several persons, in destroying
its inheritable quality, and making it elective, first in one family,
then in more; first for life, then for a certain term; in separating
its functions, and distributing them into several hands. In the course
of these changes it became more and more responsible to the nobles,
and frequently, at a very early stage, the name itself was exchanged
for one simply equivalent to ruler, or chief magistrate. The form of
government which thus ensued might, with equal propriety, be termed
either aristocracy or oligarchy, but, in the use of the terms to which
these correspond, the Greek political writers made a distinction,
which may at first sight appear more arbitrary than it really is. They
taught--not a very recondite truth--that the three forms of government,
that of one, that of a few, and that of the many, are all alike right and
good, so long as they are rightly administered, with a view, that is,
to the welfare of the state, and not to the interest of an individual
or of a particular class. But, when any of the three loses sight of its
legitimate object, it degenerates into a vicious species, which requires
to be marked by a peculiar name. Thus a monarchy, in which selfish aims
predominate becomes a tyranny. The government of a few, conducted on
like principles, is properly called an oligarchy. But to constitute an
aristocracy, it is not sufficient that the ruling few should be animated
by a desire to promote the public good: they must also be distinguished
by a certain character; for aristocracy signifies the rule of the best
men.
More distinctly to understand the peculiar nature of the Greek
oligarchies, it is necessary to consider the variety of circumstances
under which they arose. By the migrations which took place in the century
following the Trojan War, most parts of Greece were occupied by a new
race of conquerors. Everywhere their first object was to secure a large
portion of the conquered land; but the footing on which they placed
themselves, with regard to the ancient inhabitants, was not everywhere
the same; it varied according to the temper of the invaders, or of their
chiefs, to their relative strength, means, and opportunities. In Sparta,
and in most of the Dorian states, the invaders shunned all intermixture
with the conquered, and deprived them, if not of personal freedom, of all
political rights. But elsewhere, as in Elis, and probably in Bœotia, no
such distinction appears to have been made; the old and the new people
gradually melted into one.
An oligarchy, in the sense which we have assigned to the word, could
only exist where there was an inferior body which felt itself aggrieved
by being excluded from the political rights which were reserved to the
privileged few. Such a feeling of discontent might be roused by the
rapacity or insolence of the dominant order, as we shall find to have
happened at Athens, and as was the case at Mytilene, where some members
of the ruling house of the Penthilids went about with clubs, committing
outrages like those which Nero practised for a short time in the streets
of Rome. But, without any such provocation, disaffection might arise from
the cause which we shall see producing a revolution at Corinth, where
the aristocracy was originally established on a basis too narrow to be
durable: as Aristotle relates of the Basilids at Erythræ, that, though
they exercised their power well, they could not retain it, because the
people would no longer endure that it should be lodged in so few hands.
In general however it was a gradual, inevitable change in the relative
position of the higher and lower orders, which converted the aristocracy
into an oligarchical faction, and awakened an opposition which usually
ended in its overthrow.
The precautions which were used by the ruling class, when it began to
perceive its danger, were of various kinds, and it was more frequently
found necessary to widen the oligarchy itself, by the admission of new
families, and to change the principle of its constitution by substituting
wealth for birth as the qualification of its members. The form of
government in which the possession of a certain amount of property was
the condition of all, or at least of the highest, political privileges,
was sometimes called a timocracy, and its character varied according to
the standard adopted. When this was high, and especially if it was fixed
in the produce of land, the constitution differed little in effect from
the aristocratical oligarchy, except as it opened a prospect to those
who were excluded of raising themselves to a higher rank. But, when
the standard was placed within reach of the middling class, the form
of government was commonly termed a polity, and was considered as one
of the best tempered and most durable modifications of democracy. The
first stage however often afforded the means of an easy transition to
the second, or might be reduced to it by a change in the value of the
standard.
Another expedient, which seems to have been tried not unfrequently in
early times, for preserving or restoring tranquillity, was to invest an
individual with absolute power, under a peculiar title, which soon became
obsolete: that of _æsymnete_. At Cumæ indeed, and in other cities, this
was the title of an ordinary magistracy, probably of that which succeeded
the hereditary monarchy; but, when applied to an extraordinary office, it
was equivalent to the title of protector or dictator. It did not indicate
any disposition to revive the heroic royalty, but only the need which was
felt, either by the commonalty of protection against the nobles, or by
all parties of a temporary compromise, which induced the adverse factions
to acquiesce in a neutral government. The office was conferred sometimes
for life, sometimes only for a limited term, or for the accomplishment of
a specific object, as the sage Pittacus was chosen by universal consent
at Mytilene, when the city was threatened by a band of exiles, headed by
the poet Alcæus and his brother Antimenidas [about 612 B.C.].
TYRANNIES
The fall of an oligarchy was sometimes accelerated by accidental and
inevitable disasters, as by a protracted war, which at once exhausted
its wealth and reduced its numbers, or by the loss of a battle, in which
the flower of its youth might sometimes be cut off at one blow, and
leave it to the mercy of its subjects; a case of which we shall find a
signal instance in the history of Argos. But much more frequently the
revolutions which overthrew the oligarchical governments arose out of
the imprudence or misconduct, or the internal dissensions, of the ruling
body, or out of the ambition of some of its members. The commonalty, even
when really superior in strength, could not, all at once, shake off the
awe with which it was impressed by ages of subjection. It needed a leader
to animate, unite, and direct it.
Such was the origin of most of the governments which the Greeks described
by the term “tyranny”--a term to which a notion has been attached, in
modern languages, which did not enter into its original definition. A
tyranny, in the Greek sense of the word, was the irresponsible dominion
of a single person, not founded on hereditary right, like the monarchies
of the heroic ages and of many barbarian nations; nor on a free election,
like that of a dictator or _æsymnete_; but on force. It did not change
its character when transmitted through several generations, nor was any
other name invented to describe it when power which had been acquired
by violence was used for the public good; though Aristotle makes it an
element in the definition of tyranny, that it is exercised for selfish
ends. But, according to the ordinary Greek notions, and the usage of the
Greek historians, a mild and beneficent tyranny is an expression which
involves no contradiction. On the other hand, a government, legitimate
in its origin, might be converted into a tyranny, by an illegal forcible
extension of its powers, or of its duration; and we are informed by
Aristotle that this was frequently the case in early times, before the
regal title was abolished, or while the chief magistrate, who succeeded
under a different name to the functions of royalty, was still invested
with prerogatives dangerous to liberty. Such was the basis on which
one of the ancient tyrants, most infamous for his cruelty, Phalaris of
Agrigentum [or Acragas], established his despotism.
But most of the tyrannies which sprang up before the Persian wars owed
their existence to the cause above described, and derived their peculiar
character from the occasion which gave them birth. It was usually by a
mixture of violence and artifice that the demagogue accomplished his
ends. A hackneyed stratagem, which however seems always to have been
successful, was, to feign that his life was threatened, or had even
been attacked by the fury of the nobles, and on this pretext to procure
a guard for his person from the people. This band, though composed of
citizens, he found it easy to attach to his interests, and with its aid
made the first step towards absolute power by seizing the citadel: an
act which might be considered as a formal assumption of the tyranny,
and as declaring a resolution to maintain it by force. But in other
respects the more politic tyrants set an example which Augustus might
have studied with advantage. Like him, they as carefully avoided the
ostentation of power as they guarded its substance. They suffered the
ancient forms of the government to remain in apparent vigour, and even in
real operation, so far as they did not come into conflict with their own
authority. They assumed no title, and were not distinguished from private
citizens by any ensigns of superior rank. But they did not the less keep
a jealous eye on all whom wealth, or character, or influence might render
dangerous rivals; and commonly either forced them into exile or removed
them by the stroke of an assassin. They exerted still greater vigilance
in suppressing every kind of combination which might cover the germ of
a conspiracy. The lowest class of the commonalty they restrained from
license, and provided with employment. For this purpose, no less than
to gratify their taste or display their magnificence, they frequently
adorned their cities with costly buildings, which required years of
labour from numerous hands: and, where this expedient did not suffice,
they scrupled not to force a part of the population to quit the capital,
and seek subsistence in rural occupations. On the same ground they were
not reluctant to engage in wars, which afforded them opportunities of
relieving themselves, in a less invidious manner, both from troublesome
friends and from dangerous foes, as well as of strengthening and
extending their dominion by conquest.
Such was the ordinary policy of the best tyrants; and by these arts they
were frequently able to reign in peace, and to transmit their power to
their children. But the maxims and character of the tyranny generally
underwent a change under their successors, and scarcely an instance was
known of a tyrannical dynasty that lasted beyond the third generation.
But, even where the tyrant did not make himself universally odious,
or provoke the vengeance of individuals by his wantonness or cruelty,
he was constantly threatened by dangers, both from within and from
without, which it required the utmost vigour and prudence to avert. The
party which his usurpation had supplanted, though depressed, was still
powerful, more exasperated than humbled by its defeat, and ever ready
to take advantage of any opportunity of overthrowing him, either by
private conspiracy, or by affecting to make common cause with the lower
classes, or by calling in foreign aid. And in Greece itself such aid was
always at hand: the tyrants indeed were partially leagued together for
mutual support. But Sparta threw all her might into the opposite scale.
She not only dreaded the contagion of an example which might endanger
her own institutions, but was glad to extend her influence by taking an
active part in revolutions, which would cause the states restored, by her
intervention, to their old government to look up to her with gratitude
and dependence as their natural protectress. And accordingly Thucydides
ascribes the overthrow of most of the tyrannies which flourished in
Greece before the Persian War to the exertions of Sparta.
The immediate effect produced by the fall of the tyrants depended on the
hands by which it was accomplished. Where it was the work of Sparta, she
would aim at introducing a constitution most in conformity to her own.
But the example of Athens will show, that she was sometimes instrumental
in promoting the triumph of principles more adverse to her views than
those of the tyranny itself. When, however, the struggle which had been
interrupted by the temporary usurpation was revived, the parties were
no longer in exactly the same posture as at its outset. In general the
commonalty was found to have gained, in strength and spirit, even more
than the oligarchy had lost; and the prevalent leaning of the ensuing
period was on the side of democracy. Indeed the decisive step was that
by which the oligarchy of wealth was substituted for the oligarchy of
birth. This opened the door for all the subsequent innovations, by which
the scale of the timocracy was gradually lowered, until it was wholly
abolished.
DEMOCRACIES
The term “democracy” is used by Aristotle sometimes in a larger sense,
so as to include several forms of government, which, notwithstanding
their common character, were distinguished from each other by peculiar
features; at other times in a narrower, to denote a form essentially
vicious, which stands in the same relation to the happy temperament
to which he gives the name of polity, as oligarchy to aristocracy, or
tyranny to royalty. We shall not confine ourselves to the technical
language of his system, but will endeavour to define the notion of
democracy, as the word was commonly understood by the Greeks, so as to
separate the essence of the thing from the various accidents which have
sometimes been confounded with it by writers who have treated Greek
history as a vehicle for conveying their views on questions of modern
politics, which never arose in the Greek republics.
It must not be forgotten, that the body to which the terms oligarchy and
democracy refer formed a comparatively small part of the population in
most Greek states, since it did not include either slaves or resident
free foreigners. The sovereign power resided wholly in the native
freemen; and whether it was exercised by a part or by all of them,
was the question which determined the nature of the government. When
the barrier had been thrown down, by which all political rights were
made the inheritance of certain families,--since every freeman, even
when actually excluded from them by the want of sufficient property,
was by law capable of acquiring them,--democracy might be said to have
begun. It was advancing, as the legal condition of their enjoyment was
brought within the reach of a more numerous class; but it could not be
considered as complete, so long as any freeman was debarred from them
by poverty. Since, however, the sovereignty included several attributes
which might be separated, the character of the constitution depended on
the way in which these were distributed. It was considered as partaking
more of democracy than of oligarchy, when the most important of them
were shared by all freemen without distinction, though a part was still
appropriated to a number limited either by birth or fortune. Thus where
the legislative, or, as it was anciently termed, the deliberative, branch
of the sovereignty was lodged in an assembly open to every freeman, and
where no other qualification than free birth was required for judicial
functions, and for the election of magistrates, there the government
was called democratical, though the highest offices of the state might
be reserved to a privileged class. But a finished democracy, that which
fully satisfied the Greek notion, was one in which every attribute of
sovereignty might be shared, without respect to rank or property, by
every freeman.
More than this was not implied in democracy; and little less than this
was required, according to the views of the philosophers, to constitute
the character of a citizen, which, in the opinion of Aristotle, could
not exist without a voice in the legislative assembly, and such a
share in the administration of justice as was necessary to secure the
responsibility of the magistrates. But this equality of rights left
room for a great diversity in the modes of exercising them, which
determined the real nature of a democratical constitution. There were,
indeed, certain rights, those which Aristotle considers as essential
to a citizen, which, according to the received Greek notions, could,
in a democracy, only be exercised in person. The thought of delegating
them to accountable representatives seems never to have occurred either
to practical or speculative statesmen, except in the formation of
confederacies, which rendered such an expedient necessary.
But the principle of legal equality, which was the basis of democracy,
was gradually construed in a manner which inverted the wholesome order
of nature, and led to a long train of pernicious consequences. The
administration of the commonwealth came to be regarded, not as a service,
in which all were interested, but for which some might be qualified
better than others, but as a property, in which each was entitled to an
equal share. The practical application of this view was the introduction
of an expedient for levelling, as far as possible, the inequality of
nature, by enabling the poorest to devote his time, without loss, or even
with profit, to public affairs. This was done by giving him wages for
his attendance on all occasions of exercising his franchise; and, as the
sum which could be afforded for this purpose was necessarily small, it
attracted precisely the persons whose presence was least desirable.
A further application of the same principle was, as much as possible, to
increase the number, and abridge the duration and authority of public
offices, and to transfer their power to the people in a mass. On the
same ground, chance was substituted for election in the creation of all
magistrates, whose duties did not actually demand either the security of
a large fortune or peculiar abilities and experience. In proportion as
the popular assembly, or large portions detached from it for the exercise
of judicial functions, drew all the branches of the sovereignty more and
more into their sphere, the character of their proceedings became more
and more subject to the influence of the lower class of the citizens,
which constituted a permanent majority. And thus the democracy, instead
of the equality which was its supposed basis, in fact established the
ascendancy of a faction, which, although greatly preponderant in numbers,
no more represented the whole state than the oligarchy itself; and which,
though not equally liable to fall into the mechanism of a vicious system,
was more prone to yield to the impulse of the moment, more easily misled
by blind or treacherous guides, and might thus, as frequently, though not
so deliberately and methodically, trample, not only on law and custom,
but on justice and humanity. This disease of a democracy was sometimes
designated by the term “ochlocracy,” or the dominion of the rabble.
A democracy thus corrupted exhibited many features of a tyranny. It
was jealous of all who were eminently distinguished by birth, fortune,
or reputation; it encouraged flatterers and sycophants; was insatiable
in its demands on the property of the rich, and readily listened to
charges which exposed them to death or confiscation. The class which
suffered such oppression, commonly ill satisfied with the principle of
the constitution itself, was inflamed with the most furious animosity
by the mode in which it was applied, and regarded the great mass of its
fellow-citizens as its mortal enemies.[b]
FOOTNOTES
[13] The Pythia had once been a maiden, chosen in the flower of youth;
but this practice having been attended with inconvenient consequences,
women were appointed who had passed the age of fifty, but still wore the
dress of virgins. Diodorus, xvi, 26.
[Illustration: RUINS OF THE TEMPLE OF APOLLO EPICURIUS, ARCADIA]