CHAPTER I.

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OLD GREEK EDUCATION

by

J. P. MAHAFFY, M.A.

Fell. and Tutor, Trin. Coll., Dub.

Knight of the Order of the Saviour

Author of “Social Life in Greece” “A History of Greek Literature”

“A Primer of Greek Antiquities” etc.

New York

Harper & Brothers, Franklin Square

1882

TO

THE GREEK NATION

STILL, AS OF OLD, THE PIONEER OF EDUCATION

IN EASTERN EUROPE

+I Dedicate+

THIS LITTLE BOOK

IN MEMORY OF THE YEAR 1881

PREFATORY NOTE.

Readers unfamiliar with Greek will find the equivalent of the Greek

words cited in the nearest word printed in italics.

The scope of this book precludes me from acknowledging individually

my many obligations to other authors, both for curious facts and for

learned references.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

INTRODUCTION 1

I. Infancy 7

II. Earlier Childhood 14

III. School Days--The Physical Side 21

IV. School Days--The Musical Side--The Schoolmaster 32

V. The Musical Side--Schools and their Appointments 42

VI. The Subjects and Method of Education--Drawing and

Music 57

VII. The Last Stage of Education--Military Training of the

Ephebi 69

VIII. Higher Education--The Sophists and Socrates 78

IX. The Rhetors--Isocrates 91

X. The Greek Theorists on Education--Plato and Aristotle 99

XI. The Growth of Systematic Higher Education--University

Life at Athens 116

INDEX 141

GREEK EDUCATION.

INTRODUCTION.

§ 1. We hear it often repeated that human nature is the same at all

times and in all places; and this is urged at times and places where

it is so manifestly false that we feel disposed peremptorily to deny

it when paraded to us as a general truth. The fact is that only in its

lower activities does human nature show any remarkable uniformity; so

far as men are mere animals, they have strong resemblances, and in

savages even their minds seem to originate the same fancies in various

ages and climes. But when we come to higher developments, to the

spiritual element in individuals, to the social and political relations

of civilized men, the pretended truism gives way more and more to the

opposite truth, that mankind varies at all times and in all places. As

no two individuals, when carefully examined, are exactly alike, so no

two societies of men are even nearly alike; and at the present time

there is probably no more fertile cause of political and legislative

blundering than the assumption that the constitution successfully

worked out by one people can be transferred by the force of a mere

decree to its neighbors. All the recent experiments in state-reform

have been based on this assumption, as if the transferrence of a

House of Commons in any real sense were not as impossible as the

transferrence of Eton and of Oxford to some foreign society.

Although, therefore, we cannot deny that past history contains many

fruitful lessons for the bettering of our own time, it is not unlikely

that the tendency of the present widely informed but hasty age is to

exaggerate the likenesses of various epochs, and to overrate the force

of analogy in social and political reasoning. Historical parallels

are generally striking only up to a certain point; a deeper knowledge

discloses elements of contrast, wide differences of motive, great

variations in human feeling.

§ 2. But as we go back to simpler states of life, or earlier stages

of development, the argument from analogy becomes stronger, and the

lessons we may derive from history, though less striking, are more

trustworthy. This is peculiarly the case with the problem of education

as handled by civilized nations in various ages. The material to

be worked upon is that simpler and fresher human nature, in which

varieties are due only to heredity, and not yet to the numerous

artificial stimulants and restraints which every society of mature

men invents for itself. The games and sports of children, all over

the world, are as uniform as the weapons and designs of savages. The

delights and disappointments of education have also remained the same,

at least in many respects. The conflict of theoretical and practical

educators, and the failure of splendid schemes for the reform of

society by a systematic training of youth, mark every over-ripe

civilization. Here, then, if anywhere, we may gain a distinct advantage

by contemplating the problems, which we ourselves are solving, under

discussion in a remote society. The more important and permanent

elements will stand out clearer when freed from the interests and

prejudices of our own day, and from the necessities of our own

situation; and thus we may be taught to regain freedom of judgment

and escape from the iron despotism of a traditional system. For if it

be the case that in no department of our life are we more thoroughly

enslaved than on the question of education, if it be true that we are

obliged here to submit our children to the ignorance and prejudice

of nurses, governesses, priests, pedants--all following more or less

stupid traditions, and all coerced by shackles which they want either

the knowledge or the power to break--then any inquiry which may lead us

to consider freely and calmly what is right and what is not right, what

is possible and what is not possible, in education cannot but have real

value, apart from purely historical or learned considerations.

§ 3. In fact, the main object of this book is to interest men who are

not classical scholars, and who are not professional educators, in the

theory of education as treated by that people which is known to have

done more than any other in fitting its members for the higher ends and

enjoyments of life. The Greeks were far behind us in the mechanical

aids to human progress; they understood not the use of electricity, or

of steam, or of gunpowder, or of printing. But, in spite of this, the

Greek public was far better educated than we are--nay, to some extent,

because of this it was better educated. For Greek life afforded proper

leisure for thorough intellectual training, and this includes first

of all such political training as is strange to almost the whole of

Europe; secondly, moral training of so high a kind as to rival at times

the light of revelation; thirdly, social training to something higher

than music and feasting by way of recreation; and, fourthly, artistic

training, which, while it did not condescend to bad imitations of

great artists, taught the public to understand and to love true and

noble ideals.

Why must these great ends of education be obscured or lost by the

modern wonders of discovery, which should make them more easy of

attainment and wider in circulation? Were the Greeks better off in

education than we are, and, if so, why were they better off? or is all

this alleged Greek superiority an idle dream of the pedants, with no

solid basis in facts? If it is real, can we not discover the secret of

their superiority, and use it with far wider and deeper effect in our

Christian society? or is human nature of narrow and fixed capacity, and

does the addition of wide ranges of positive science and of various

tongues mar irrevocably the cultivation of the pure reason and of

the æsthetic faculty? These are the problems which will occupy the

following pages, not in their abstract form; they will be considered

in close relation to the success or failure of the old Greeks in

discussing and solving them.

§ 4. There have been only two earlier nations and one later which could

compete with the Greeks in their treatment of this perpetual problem

in human progress. We have first the Egyptian nation, which by its

thorough and widely diffused culture attained a duration of national

prosperity and happiness perhaps never since equalled. Isolated from

other civilized races by geographical position, by language, and in

consequence by social institutions, the Egyptians prosecuted internal

development more assiduously than is the wont of mere conquering

races. The few foreign possessions acquired by the Egyptians were

never assimilated, and the civilization of the Nile remained isolated

and unique. We have reason to know that this refined social life,

which is perpetuated in pictures on the monuments of the land--this

large and various literature, of which so many fragments have been

recovered in our century--was not created without a diffused and

systematic education. In Plato’s “Laws,”[1] the training of their

young children in elementary science is described as far superior to

anything in Greece. But, unfortunately, the materials for any estimate

of Egyptian education, in its process, are wanting. We can see plainly

its great national effects; we have even some details as to the special

training in separate institutions of a learned and literary class;

but nothing more has yet been recovered. If we knew the various steps

by which Moses became “learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians,”

an interesting field of comparison would be opened to us; and here,

no doubt, we should find some of our own difficulties discussed and

perhaps solved by early sages, still more by an enlightened public

opinion, showing itself in the establishment of sound traditions.

And, no doubt, from the dense population, the subdivision of property

and of labor, and the absence of a great territorial aristocracy, the

education of the Egyptians must have corresponded to our middle-class

and primary systems, together with special institutions for the higher

training of the professions and of the literary caste.

§ 5. If we could command our material, we might seek elsewhere for

analogies to the education of our nobility and higher gentry. We know

through Greek and Roman sources, as well as through the heroic poetry

of the “Shahnameh,” that the Aryan nobles who became, under Cyrus,

the rulers of Western Asia, were in character, as they were in blood,

allied to the Germanic chiefs and Norse Vikings, with their love of

daring adventure, their chivalry, and their intense loyalty to their

appointed sovereign. In these qualities they were strangely opposed to

the democratic Greeks, on whom they looked with contempt, while they

were appreciated in return only by a few such men as Herodotus and

Xenophon. Indeed, such devotion to their sovereign as made them leap

overboard to lighten his ship in a storm was confounded by the Greeks

with slavish submission, Oriental prostrations, and other signs of

humiliation. Nevertheless, the men whom the Greeks long dared not look

in the face--the conquerors of half the known world, the successful

rivals of the Romans for the dominion of the East--faced death under

Xerxes and the last Darius with other feelings than those of slavish

submission. Herodotus, in his interesting and sympathetic account of

them, says their children’s education consisted of three things--to

ride, to shoot, and to tell the truth. If he had added a chivalrous

loyalty to their kings like that of the French nobles in the last

century, he would have completed the picture, and sketched a training

which many an English gentleman considers little short of perfection.

§ 6. The Romans are the only other ancient people who stand near enough

to us to suggest an inquiry into their education. And it may be said

that they combined the dignity of noble traditions with the practical

instincts of a successful trading people. Hence Roman education, if

carried on with system, ought of all others to correspond with that of

Englishmen, who should combine the same qualities in carrying out an

analogous policy, and in filling, to some extent, a similar position

in the world. But so closely was all Roman culture based on Greek

books and models that, although every people must develop individual

features of its own--and the Romans had plenty of them, as we may see

from Quintilian--any philosophical knowledge of Roman education must

depend upon a previous knowledge of the Greeks. In many respects the

Romans were a race more congenial to the English, and hence by us

more easily understood. In the coarser and stronger elements of human

character, in directness and love of truth, in a certain contempt of

æsthetics and of speculation, in a blunt assertion of the supremacy

of practical questions, in a want of sympathy, and often a stupid

ignorance and neglect of the character and requirements of subject

races, the Romans are the true forerunners of the English in history.

Burdened as we are with these defects of national character, the

products of the subtler and more genial, if less solid and truthful,

Hellenic race are particularly well worth our consideration. This has

been so thoroughly recognized by thoughtful men in our generation as to

require no further support by argument. It only remains that each of

our Hellenists should do his best, in some distinct line, to make the

life of the Greeks known to us with fairness and accuracy.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] P. 819.

CHAPTER I.

INFANCY.

§ 7. We find in Homer, especially in the “Iliad,” indications of the

plainest kind that Greek babies were like the babies of modern Europe,

equally troublesome, equally delightful to their parents, equally

uninteresting to the rest of society. The famous scene in the sixth

book of the “Iliad,” when Hector’s infant, Astyanax, screams at the

sight of his father’s waving crest, and the hero lays his helmet on

the ground that he may laugh and weep over the child; the love and

tenderness of Andromache, and her pathetic laments in the twenty-second

book--are familiar to all. She foresees the hardships and unkindnesses

to her orphan boy, “who was wont upon his father’s knees to eat the

purest marrow and the rich fat of sheep; and when sleep came upon him,

and he ceased his childish play, he would lie in the arms of his nurse,

on a soft cushion, satisfied with every comfort.” So, again,[2] a

protecting goddess is compared to a mother keeping the flies from her

sleeping infant, and a pertinacious friend[3] to a little girl who,

running beside her mother, begs to be taken up, holding her dress and

delaying her, and with tearful eyes the child keeps looking up till

the mother denies her no longer. These are only stray references, and

yet they speak no less clearly than if we had asked for an express

answer to a direct inquiry. So we have the hesitation of the murderers

sent to make away with the infant Cypselus, who had been foretold to

portend danger to the Corinthian Herods of that day. The smile of the

baby unmans--or should we rather say unbrutes?--the first ruffian, and

so the task is passed on from man to man. This story in Herodotus[4]

is a sort of natural Greek parallel to the great Shakespearian scene,

where another child sways his intended torturer with an eloquence more

conscious and explicit, but not, perhaps, more powerful, than the

radiant smile of the Greek baby. Thus Euripides, the great master of

pathos, represents Iphigenia bringing her infant brother Orestes to

plead for her with that unconsciousness of sorrow which pierces us to

the heart more than the most affecting rhetoric. In modern art a little

child, playing about its dead mother, and waiting with contentment for

her awaking, is perhaps the most powerful appeal to human compassion

which we are able to conceive.

On the other hand, the troubles of infancy were then as now very

great. We do not, indeed, hear of croup or teething or measles or

whooping-cough. But these are occasional matters, and count as nothing

beside the inexorable tyranny of a sleepless baby. For then as now

mothers and nurses had a strong prejudice in favor of carrying about

restless children, and so soothing them to sleep. The unpractical

Plato requires that in his fabulous Republic two or three stout nurses

shall be in readiness to carry about each child, because children,

like game-cocks, gain spirit and endurance by this treatment! What

they really gain is a gigantic power of torturing their mothers.

Most children can readily be taught to sleep in a bed, or even in

an arm-chair; but an infant once accustomed to being carried about

will insist upon it; and so it came that Greek husbands were obliged

to relegate their wives to another sleeping-room, where the nightly

squalling of the furious infant might not disturb the master as well

as the mistress of the house. But the Greek gentleman was able to make

good his damaged rest by a mid-day siesta, and so required but little

sleep at night. The modern father in Northern Europe, with his whole

day’s work and waking, is therefore in a more disadvantageous position.

Of course, very fashionable people kept nurses, and it was the highest

tone at Athens to have a Spartan nurse for the infant, just as an

English nurse is sought out among foreign noblesse. We are told that

these women made the child hardier, that they used less swathing and

bandaging, and allowed free play for the limbs; and this, like all the

Spartan physical training, was approved of and admired by the rest of

the Greek public, though its imitation was never suggested save in the

unpractical speculations of Plato.

Whether they also approved of a diet of marrow and mutton suet, which

Homer, in the passage just cited, considers the luxury of princes, does

not appear. As Homer was the Greek Bible--an inspired book containing

perfect wisdom on all things, human and divine--there must have been

many orthodox parents who followed his prescription. But we hear no

approval or censure of such diet. Possibly marrow may have represented

our cod-liver oil in strengthening delicate infants. But as the

Homeric men fed far more exclusively on meat than their historical

successors, some vegetable substitute, such as olive oil, must have

been in use later on. Even within our memory mutton suet boiled in milk

was commonly recommended by physicians for the delicacy now treated

by cod-liver oil. The supposed strengthening of children by air and

exposure, or by early neglect of their comforts, was as fashionable

at Sparta as it is with many modern theorists, and it probably led in

both cases to the same result--the extinction of the weak and delicate.

These theorists parade the cases of survival of stout children--that

is, their exceptional soundness--as the effect of this harsh treatment,

and so satisfy themselves that experience confirms their views. Now

with the Spartans this was logical enough, for as they professed and

desired nothing but physical results, as they despised intellectual

qualities, and esteemed obedience to be the highest of moral ones, they

were perhaps justified in their proceeding. So thoroughly did they

advocate the production of healthy citizens for military purposes that

they were quite content that the sickly should die. In fact, in the

case of obviously weak and deformed infants, they did not hesitate to

expose them in the most brutal sense, not to cold and draughts, but to

the wild beasts in the mountains.

§ 8. This brings us to the first shocking contrast between the Greek

treatment of children and ours. We cannot really doubt, from the free

use of the idea in Greek tragedies, in the comedies of ordinary life,

and in theories of political economy, that the exposing of new-born

children was not only sanctioned by public feeling, but actually

practised throughout Greece. Various motives combined to justify or to

extenuate this practice. In the first place, the infant was regarded

as the property of its parents, indeed of its father, to an extent

inconceivable to most modern Christians. The State only, whose claim

overrode all other considerations, had a right, for public reasons,

to interfere with the dispositions of a father. Individual human life

had not attained what may be called the exaggerated value derived from

sundry superstitions, which remains even after those superstitions

have decayed. And, moreover, in many Greek states, the contempt for

commercial pursuits, and the want of outlet for practical energy,

made the supporting of large families cumbersome, or the subdivision

of patrimonies excessive. Hence the prudence or the selfishness of

parents did not hesitate to use an escape which modern civilization

condemns as not only criminal, but as horribly cruel. How little even

the noblest Greek theorists felt this objection appears from the fact

that Plato, the Attic Moses, sanctions infanticide[5] under certain

circumstances or in another form, in his ideal state. In the genteel

comedy it is often mentioned as a somewhat painful necessity, but

enjoined by prudence. Nowhere does the agony of the mother’s heart

reach us through their literature, save in one illustration used by

the Platonic Socrates, where he compares the anger of his pupils, when

first confuted out of their prejudices, to the fury of a young mother

deprived of her first infant. There is something horrible in the very

allusion, as if in after-life Attic mothers became hardened to this

treatment. We must suppose the exposing of female infants to have been

not uncommon until the just retribution of barrenness fell upon the

nation, and the population dwindled away by a strange atrophy.

§ 9. In the many family suits argued by the Attic orators, we do

not (I believe) find a case in which a large family of children is

concerned. Four appears a larger number than the average. Marriages

between relations as close as uncle and niece, and even half-brothers

and sisters, were not uncommon; but the researches of modern science

have removed the grounds for believing that this practice would tend

to diminish the race. It would certainly increase any _pre-existing_

tendency to hereditary disease; yet we do not hear of infantile

diseases any more than we hear of delicate infants. Plagues and

epidemics were common enough, but, as already observed, we do not hear

of measles, or whooping-cough, or scarlatina, or any of the other

constant persecutors of our nurseries.

As the learning of foreign languages was quite beneath the notions

of the Greek gentleman, who rather expected all barbarians to learn

_his_ language, the habit of employing foreign nurses, so useful and

even necessary to good modern education, was well-nigh unknown. It

would have been thought a great misfortune to any Hellenic child to

be brought up speaking Thracian or Egyptian. Accordingly, foreign

slave attendants, with their strange accent and rude manners, were not

allowed to take charge of children till they were able to go to school,

and had learned their mother tongue perfectly.

But the women’s apartments, in which children were kept for the first

few years, are closed so completely to us that we can but conjecture a

few things about the life and care of Greek babies. A few late epigrams

tell the grief of parents bereaved of their infants. Beyond this,

classical literature affords us no light. The backwardness in culture

of Greek women leads us to suspect that then, as now, Greek babies were

more often spoiled than is the case among the serious Northern nations.

The term “Spartan mother” is, however, still proverbial; and, no doubt,

in that exceptional State discipline was so universal and so highly

esteemed that it penetrated even to the nursery. But in the rest of

Greece we may conceive the young child arriving at his schoolboy age

more wilful and headstrong than most of our more watched and worried

infants. Archytas, the philosopher, earned special credit for inventing

the rattle, and saving much damage to household furniture by occupying

children with this toy.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] Δ 130.

[3] Π 7.

[4] Herod. v. 93.

[5] Exposing children, instead of killing them, left open the chance

that some benevolent person would save them, from pity, or avaricious

person sell them as slaves--a result which, no doubt, often occurred.

Thus the parents could console their consciences with a hope that the

benevolence of the gods had prevented the natural consequences of their

inhuman act.

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