Part 4

The Greeks were very fond of their god Hermes. He was not too grand to be companionable, like the awe-inspiring Zeus or the haughty Apollo. They thought of him as a blithe, gentle being whose lighthearted ways and easy good nature made him a general favorite. It was an early custom to set up in his honor stone posts at the crossroads. Sometimes they were topped by the heads of other gods, but these were called for him, _herm[ae]_. In the course of time better statues were made in full length figure. The head reproduced in our illustration is from such an one which used to stand in a temple of Olympia, from the ruins of which it was unearthed a few years ago.

The entire right arm and parts of both legs are missing, but the other portions of the statue show the god's position. He is leaning against a tree trunk, holding on his left arm the infant Bacchus, who was, as we have seen, consigned to his care by Zeus. Hermes is not, however, looking at the child, but gazes dreamily before him, his head bent in the pensive pose which we see. The features are cut with typical Greek regularity, but the countenance has besides its own individual charm. The droop of the upper eyelid suggests a dreamy nature, and in the curve of the smiling lips is a hint of playfulness. The lower forehead is full, showing over the eyes the bar of flesh which marks the strongly masculine nature. The closely cropped curls preserve the perfect contour of the head. The small, beautiful ear is as daintily modeled as the ringlets of hair.

The face wins us at once with its gentle amiability. It is tender and playful, and withal exquisitely refined and courteous. What a deferential listener is suggested in that pose of the head! The pure outline of the face calls to mind those knights of chivalry who gathered about King Arthur's Round Table, and one wonders if Sir Galahad himself might not have looked like this.

This statue is the work of the great sculptor Praxiteles, and is the only original marble in existence direct from his hands. All the rest of his work is known from descriptions and copies. We can understand, then, how sculptors and critics the world over have examined it to study the sculptor's methods. It is of Parian marble, much stained with iron rust from its long entombment under the soil.

XII

THE DISCOBOLUS (THE DISK-THROWER)

We have seen how important a part in the Greek national life was occupied by the Olympic Games. They were regarded as a sacred institution of the gods, and to contend in them was a religious consecration. None could enter them who had been guilty of dishonorable conduct or sacrilege, and young men from the noblest families were not above taking part. The prizes were wreaths of wild parsley, olive, and pine, having no intrinsic worth, but of priceless value to the recipients. To win them was the highest ambition of many a Greek youth.

The victor was led forth before the people, crowned with the wreath and bearing a palm branch in his hand. Heralds proclaimed his name and that of his father. Banquets were spread in his honor, and songs were composed in his praise.[26] From thenceforth he was a person of distinction. Finally his statue was set up in the _altis_ or sacred grove of Olympia. There were at one time as many as three thousand such statues in the place.

[26] See, for instance, Pindar's _Olympic Odes_.

It will be readily seen that in statues of athletes the sculptor had greater freedom than in statues of the gods. The latter must be represented in dignified attitudes of repose, but the former would naturally be portrayed in some characteristic posture of action. It is so with the statue in our illustration called the Discobolus or Disk-thrower.

The game of disk-throwing was very old, so old that there were Greek legends of famous games played by the gods and heroes. Apollo sometimes tried his hand at it, and also Perseus. The discus, or disk, was a heavy round plate of metal, bronze or iron, about eight inches in diameter, grasped in one hand, swung around to give it a rotary motion, and then sent flying through the air. A modern authority explains that it was thrown not as the quoit is to-day, with arm and shoulder only, but by bringing into play and utilizing every limb and muscle of the body. "Immediately preceding the actual hurling of the discus, therefore, there had to be a general storing up and compression of energy which, when suddenly set free, produced the violence of the projection. The principle is simply that of the spring which, when compressed, shoots out from the centre. The greater the contortion of the body, the more each muscle and sinew is strung towards one centre, the greater will be the impetus when this compression is suddenly set free."[27]

[27] Waldstein, in _Essays on the Art of Pheidias_, page 49.

Our statue shows the disk-thrower at the moment immediately preceding the throw. As described by the ancient writer Lucian, "he is bent down into the position for the throw, turning towards the hand that holds the disk, and all but bending on one knee, he seems as if he would straighten himself up at the throw."

The modern critic whom we have already quoted shows that when we view the statue from the front, "all the lines of the modelling indicate the tension of the sinews towards the contracted centre of the body, and the legs, neck, and shoulders tend towards the same point." When we walk around the statue, all the lines in the back and sides "seem to lead towards that central point like the spiral contraction of a spring." It is by thus suggesting the concentration of energy on the part of the Discobolus that the figure appears so full of life and action.

By the choice of this posture the artist was enabled to model his figure on magnificent sculpturesque lines. One long fine curve sweeps along the right arm, is continued down the left arm, and is carried to completion in the left leg and foot. The counter curve starts under the right shoulder, and sweeps down the right side and leg.

The original statue of the Discobolus was executed in bronze, and our reproduction is from one of several ancient copies in marble. In some of these the original head of the statue has been replaced by another, but the copy we see here has a fine, vigorous head. The English critic, Walter Pater,[28] describes the face "as smooth but spare, and tightly drawn over muscle and bone." He shows too how sympathetic the face is with the whole intention of the statue, "as the source of will."[29]

[28] In the chapter on Athletic Prizemen, in _Greek Studies_.

[29] This opinion is the more interesting because the face of the Discobolus is commonly criticised for "absence of emotional expression." See Furtw[:a]ngler's _Masterpieces of Greek Sculpture_, p. 173.

The sculptor of the Discobolus was Myron, who lived in the period between the Persian War and the middle of the fifth century. His work shows his fondness for movement, though many of his subjects did not permit him to indulge his taste. He made a specialty of figures of athletes, both commemorative portrait statues and typical figures. We do not know whether this statue represents an actual Olympic victor, or is a typical figure, like the Apoxyomenos. In any case it gives an excellent idea of the great influence exercised upon Greek life by the athletic games.

XIII

THE APHRODITE OF MELOS (VENUS OF MILO)

By Greek tradition the fairest of the goddesses was Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty. To her every lover paid his vows and every maiden prayed for charms. An old legend relates that she was born from the foam of the sea, hence the name Aphrodite, which means "foam-born." Among the Romans she was called Venus. At her birth the island of Cyprus received her.

"Where the force Of gentle-breathing Zephyr steer'd her course Along the waves of the resounding sea, While yet unborn in that soft foam she lay That brought her forth."

Here she emerged "a goddess in the charms of awful beauty." The Hours welcomed her eagerly, taking her in their arms and putting a crown of gold upon her head. As she went on her way, flowers grew in her path,--

"Where her delicate feet Had pressed the sands, green herbage flowering sprang."[30]

[30] An account of the birth of Aphrodite is given in Hesiod's _Theogony_ and in the Homeric _Hymn to Venus_, and the quotations here are drawn from both sources.

As we have already seen, there were among the Greek divinities two other goddesses besides Aphrodite specially famed for their beauty,--Athena and Hera. Tradition tells how the beauty of the three was tested. An apple was thrown into their midst inscribed "For the fairest," and a contention at once arose as to the rightful owner. Paris, the prince of Troy, being chosen arbiter, decided in favor of Aphrodite, who promised him for a wife the fairest woman in Greece, that is, Helen.[31] This was the real cause of the Trojan War, in which the Greeks sought to recover their stolen princess. Aphrodite being at the bottom of the trouble remained through the war on the Trojan side.

[31] See Tennyson's poem, _Oenone_.

Oddly enough the beautiful goddess was mated to the ugliest of the gods, the lame blacksmith Heph[ae]stus (or Vulcan). At his forge were made those fateful arrows of the little god Eros (or Cupid), the mother standing by to tip their points with honey.

The power of love in human life made the ideal of Aphrodite very dear to the hearts of the Greeks. All that is most tender and sacred in this human relation was personified in her. As love ennobles the life and makes it unselfish, so, they reasoned, must Aphrodite be a grand and noble being. Again, as love glorifies the life, and brings joy into its commonest details, she must also be beautiful and laughter-loving. In short, one cannot think of any quality of love which was not reflected in the person of the glorious goddess. Temples were built in her honor, and she was worshiped in festivals and sacrificial rites. Statues of her were set up in many places, and one of the most famous which has come down to us is reproduced in our illustration.

We have now learned by repeated instances that the Greeks had such definite ideas of their deities that their statues were as readily recognized as if they represented actual persons. The sculptors followed types accepted by tradition as the best embodiment of the characters they stood for. So especially with Zeus, Athena, and Hera, and so again with Aphrodite. She must be supremely fair, with a beauty less austere than that of the maiden Athena, less regal than that of Hera, and more fascinating than either.

We see then at once that the beautiful figure of our illustration must be Aphrodite, or Venus. In looking at her we think, not of wisdom, or force, or power, but just of beauty. She stands resting the weight of her body on one foot, and advancing the other with knee bent. The posture causes the figure to sway slightly to one side, describing a fine curved line. The lower limbs are draped, but the upper part of the body is uncovered, and in some mysterious way the sculptor has imparted to the marble a seeming softness as of real flesh. The head is as exquisitely set as a flower on its stalk. The parted hair is drawn back in rippling waves over the low forehead.

The eyes are not very wide open, having something of a dreamy languor. "Melting eyes" are indeed characteristic of Venus, and an analytical critic has explained that this effect is produced in sculpture by a "slight elevation of the inner corner of the lower eyelid." The nose is perfectly cut, the mouth and chin are moulded in adorable curves. Yet to say that every feature is of faultless perfection is but cold praise. No analysis can convey the sense of her peerless beauty.

The statue originally stood on the Greek island of Melos, where it was discovered in 1820 in this broken state. Many wise heads have been puzzled to know the position of the missing arms. Some have thought that the goddess carried a shield, and others have fancied her holding the traditional apple. There have also been many discussions as to the date of the work. Now if the statue had been made in the fifth century B. C., the goddess would have been fully draped; if in the fourth century, entirely without drapery. Our sculptor then belonged to neither of these periods, and combined the characteristics of both. It is a fault on his part to have placed the drapery in an impossible position, whence in actual life it would immediately fall of its own weight. Yet we do not think of such criticisms when we see it. The beautiful body rising above the drapery reminds us of the myth of Aphrodite emerging from the sea foam. Her beauty is a union of strength and sweetness, a perfect embodiment of a nature at harmony with itself and its surroundings.

XIV

ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE

There was once a man named Orpheus, who lived in the land of Thrace. It was said that his father was Apollo, and his mother the muse Calliope; so it is not strange that he was both poet and musician. So enchanting was the music of his lyre that wild animals came forth from their haunts to hear him. Even trees and rocks seemed to feel the magic influence of the strain.

He had a beautiful wife named Eurydice, whom he loved dearly, and they were happy together till a sad accident separated them. She was bitten one day by a poisonous serpent, and died from the effects of the wound. There was no more happiness on earth for Orpheus, and he determined to seek Eurydice in the underworld of the dead.

Now the gates of the lower regions were guarded by a three-headed dog named Cerberus, but even this fierce beast was subdued by the entrancing music of Orpheus, who

"Through the unsubstantial realm Populous with phantom ghosts of buried men, Undaunted passed to where Persephone Sits by the monarch of that cheerless folk Of shadows throned--and struck his lyre, and sang."

Pouring forth the mournful tale of his lost love, he appealed to the gods to give him back Eurydice. So eloquent was his plea that all who listened were "moved to weeping." Then for the first time the iron cheeks of the Furies were wet with tears, and

"Of the nether realm Nor King nor Queen had heart to say him nay."

Eurydice was brought forth and restored to her husband, but a single condition was laid upon Orpheus in leading her out. Until they had regained the earth he was not to look backward, or the boon would be forfeited. The Latin poet Ovid tells how the two fared forth together from the underworld, and how Orpheus failed in the conditions of the agreement.

"Through the silent realm Upward against the steep and fronting hill Dark with obscurest gloom, the way he led: And now the upper air was all but won, When fearful lest the toil o'ertask her strength And yearning to behold the form he loved, An instant back he looked,--and back the shade That instant fled.... ...One last And sad 'Farewell,' scarce audible, she sighed, And vanished to the ghosts that late she left."[32]

[32] From the Metamorphoses, Book x, in Henry King's translation, from which also the other quotations are drawn.

Our bas-relief represents a scene of parting between Orpheus and Eurydice, and we may take it, as we please, to refer to their first or to their last farewell. It seems, however, to apply more appropriately to the first departure of Eurydice to the unknown land. She lays her hand fondly upon her husband's shoulder, and he touches it gently as if to detain her.

The figure on the other side is the messenger god Hermes, whose mission is to conduct departing spirits to the other world.[33] He has come for Eurydice, and he takes her by the hand to draw her away. For a moment husband and wife gaze into each other's eyes with love and sorrow, while the messenger waits with exquisite courtesy.

[33] See page 61.

Though the Greeks had many tales of sorrow in their poetry and mythology, they did not often illustrate them in their art. The subjects of their sculpture are nearly always happy ones. Even here, you see, grief is made so beautiful and dignified that we forget to feel sad about the parting. We think most of the love and devotion between Orpheus and Eurydice.

The simple story of the bas-relief touches us more readily perhaps than the grand statues of the gods. People like in art something which corresponds to the common human lives of all.

The garment worn by Eurydice seems quite like that of the goddess Demeter. The drapery is very full in front, falling in long straight folds. At the side it is scantier and shows the motion of the figure in walking. The short tunic worn by the other figures is a picturesque costume, and the mantle swinging over one shoulder is very graceful. When one contrasts with these classical draperies the stiff dress of modern times, one wonders that the sculptor of to-day does not throw down his chisel in despair.

The style of the draperies often enables a critic to decide in what period a work of art was produced. In the best art the folds are always simple: it is a sure sign of declining art when the folds are complicated and broken. Here we see the few simple, severe lines which mark the purest classical taste.

XV

NIKE (THE WINGED VICTORY)

Upon the death of Alexander the Great there was much disputing among his generals as to what should become of the various provinces of his empire, including Greece. It was finally decided that the Greek cities should be left free. A general named Ptolemy soon broke this agreement and entered Greece, whereupon another named Antigonus promptly proceeded to punish him. Antigonus had a son Demetrius, who was a skilful engineer, and was called Poliorcetes, "besieger of cities," for his success in raising sieges. He was sent to Athens with a fleet of two hundred and fifty ships, and won the gratitude of the city for delivering it from the hands of Ptolemy. Demetrius next turned his attention to the island of Cyprus, of which Ptolemy was in possession. The rival forces met off Salamis, 306 B. C., in a fierce sea fight, and Demetrius was victorious.

Now the Greeks were fond of commemorating notable events by the erection of statues, and it was an old custom among them to set up a statue of victory in honor of any success of arms on land or sea. We have seen how natural it was for them to attribute the affairs of life to the agency of the deities. So in war, greatly as they praised their armies and their generals, it was to Nike, the goddess of victory, that they gave the chief credit of success. This goddess was conceived as a winged being attendant upon both Zeus and Athena, who, as we have seen, controlled the destinies of war.

To Nike then, this winged goddess of victory, was due the wonderful success of Demetrius over Ptolemy's fleet before Salamis, and it was fitting that her statue should commemorate the event. The spot chosen for it was the island of Samothrace, which stands so high above water level that it is very conspicuous in the northern Greek archipelago.

The goddess was represented standing on the prow of a vessel as if leading the fleet to success. It may be that the old Greek idea of a goddess at the prow was the origin of the "figure head" for so many years carried by every ship that sailed the seas. The vessels in those old days were called _triremes_, being propelled by rowers who sat at their oars in three _tiers_, or banks, which gave the name to the craft. The goddess stood in the middle of what was called the _ikrion proras_, which would correspond to the forecastle deck. In her right hand she held a trumpet to her lips, and in her left she carried a crosstree, the framework of a trophy.

The figure is in an erect poise with the chest held high. You will notice that a walker making his way against the wind bends the body forward to resist its force, while one who is borne along on some vehicle in the face of the wind steadies himself upright. So with Nike; the attitude expresses the sense of exhilaration from the rush of wind in the face of one borne along on a moving vessel. The breeze beats the thin drapery back upon her, outlining the beautiful curves of bust and limb, and fluttering behind her in the air. The broad pinions which would retard the ship's motion if spread open are folded to cut the air like the prow.

When the statue was set up and the colossal figure in white marble was seen against the blue sky of a southern land, what an inspiration it must have been as a symbol of success! What discouraged heart could look at such a figure and not be thrilled with new ambition! The statue of Nike was not the only tribute to the victory of Demetrius. Some special coins were struck in honor of the event, including gold staters and silver tetradrachms, specimens of which still exist. The design on the obverse of these coins represented the statue of Nike.

Years passed, and at length the independence of the Greeks was crushed under the heel of the Roman conqueror. Many places were laid waste throughout the peninsula and the Greek islands. Temples were destroyed and pillaged, and statues were thrown from their pedestals and buried beneath the soil and d['e]bris. Our statue of Nike shared the sad fate which befell so many other great works of art. For centuries it lay in fragments in the ruins surrounding a temple in Samothrace. Then came the explorer with pickaxe and shovel, some of the precious bits were recovered, and learned men set to work to put them together again. The coins of Demetrius were their guide, and the tiny figure of Nike engraved thereon was the model after which the great statue was reconstructed.

The head and arms are still missing, and a fanciful conceit might suggest that these losses were the marks of a hard-fought battle. Success has been dearly bought, but the goddess emerges, erect and undaunted, her tattered wings beating the air victoriously. As we look at the statue we think less of what it lacks than of what it is. Perhaps if head and arms were there we should not have eyes for the glorious lines in the figure itself. One particularly fine line is the continuous curve running across the bust and the arched top of the wings.

The figure gives us a sense of motion which fairly quickens the blood in our veins. We, too, seem to feel the strong salt breeze in our faces, speeding through the air with courage high, and hope steadily set toward victory.

XVI

PERICLES

In the history of ancient Greece the half century included between the years 480 and 430 B. C. is called the Age of Pericles. During forty years of this period Pericles was the political leader of Athens. Under his guidance the city reached the height of her power as the capital of an empire composed of tributary states. Nor was political power the chief glory of Athens at this time. She was the centre of arts and science for the whole world. This was the age of great Greek literature, when [AE]schylus, Sophocles, and Euripides wrote their immortal dramas. It was also the age of great oratory, when the Athenians constantly heard "the purest lessons of patriotism put forth in the loftiest forms of eloquence." Finally, it was the age of great art, when architecture and sculpture attained perfection and when Phidias, the foremost Greek sculptor, produced his masterpieces.