XI

"'Tis not for nothing that where'er we goWe find a temple of hetæræ there,But nowhere one to any wedded wife,"

"'Tis not for nothing that where'er we go

We find a temple of hetæræ there,

But nowhere one to any wedded wife,"

sings one of the poets of the Anthology.

The characteristic traits of these reigning queens of the demi-monde were in almost all cases the same. The principal attributes of their characters were selfishness and greed. With all their outward good nature and apparent warmth of disposition, they were at all times "marble-hearted," cold, incapable of any noble emotion, and impervious to the stirrings of true love. There are a few exceptional cases of self-sacrificing devotion, as of Leæna, and of Timandra, who stood by Alcibiades in all his misfortune, but their exceeding rarity proves the rule. A few were of good character and were faithful to the relations which they had formed; many were merely fair and frail; while most of them descended to the lowest depths of corruption and depravity. While the deportment of those hetæræ who cultivated every womanly charm presents much that is attractive, yet their manner of life has been aptly compared to baskets of noxious weeds and garbage, covered over with roses. Extravagance, debauchery, and dissolute habits were sure to work out in time the attendant ills of wretchedness, destitution, and penury. Realizing that for them there was possible no such thing as true love and domestic happiness, they became rapacious and vindictive, cynical and ill-tempered. Nothing could be mare fearful than the pictures which the comic poets and satirists draw of some of these women; Anaxilas, for example, thus describes them as a class:

"The man whoe'er has loved a courtesan,Will say that no more lawless, worthless raceCan anywhere be found: for what ferocious,Unsociable she-dragon, what Chimæra,Though it breathe fire from its mouth, what Charybdis,What three-headed Scylla, dog o' the sea,Or hydra, sphynx, or raging lioness,Or viper, or winged harpy (greedy race),Could go beyond those most accursed harlots?There is no monster greater. They aloneSurpass all other evils put together."

"The man whoe'er has loved a courtesan,

Will say that no more lawless, worthless race

Can anywhere be found: for what ferocious,

Unsociable she-dragon, what Chimæra,

Though it breathe fire from its mouth, what Charybdis,

What three-headed Scylla, dog o' the sea,

Or hydra, sphynx, or raging lioness,

Or viper, or winged harpy (greedy race),

Could go beyond those most accursed harlots?

There is no monster greater. They alone

Surpass all other evils put together."

Their outward behavior and manner were characterized by great elegance. One comic poet remarks that they took their food most delicately and not like the citizen-women, who "stuffed their cheeks and tore off the meat." Their speech, however, was unrestrained, and they delighted in indelicate witticisms anddoubles entendres. Machon made a collection of the witty remarks of the most celebrated hetæræ, in his book of anecdotes. In Athenæus we also have specimens of their witticisms. Sinope of Ægina was particularly famous for her coarse wit, and had many clever encounters with the brilliant men of her day. To preserve or to enhance their natural beauty, the hetæræ were given to the use of cosmetics. Eubulus, in a fragment, thus represents a citizen-woman reviling the much-hated class:

"By Jove, we are not painted with vermilion,Nor with dark mulberry juice, as you are often:And then, if in the summer you go out,Two rivulets of dark, discolored hueFlow from your eyes, and sweat drops from your jawsAnd makes a scarlet furrow down your neck,And the light hair which wantons o'er your faceSeems gray, so thickly is it plastered o'er."

"By Jove, we are not painted with vermilion,

Nor with dark mulberry juice, as you are often:

And then, if in the summer you go out,

Two rivulets of dark, discolored hue

Flow from your eyes, and sweat drops from your jaws

And makes a scarlet furrow down your neck,

And the light hair which wantons o'er your face

Seems gray, so thickly is it plastered o'er."

The secret mysteries of hetairism, which were celebrated chiefly by the Lesbian and Samlan hetæræ and which occasioned a hetasra literature, prepared in part by such members of the craft as Philænis, Elephantine, Niko, and others, constitute an important aspect of our subject, which must be briefly noticed. Suffice it to say that the women of pleasure of Lesbos and Samos excelled in the invention and practice of shameful, unnatural arts, and that the lasciviousness of the Lesbian courtesans led to the loathsome form of lust known as "Lesbian love," which has become proverbial.

Plutarch expressly distinguishes from the hetæræ a class known as "emancipated women," whose preeminent virtue, however, was certainly not modesty. To this class belonged many of the flower girls, wreath weavers, painters' and sculptors' models, who earned a living by means of their good looks, though they did not follow a life of shame. The best known representative of this class was Glycera, whom Goethe has immortalized. She was a native of Sicyon, and supported herself by the sale of flower wreaths, which she knew how to make most artistically, for use at banquets, funerals, and for adornment of the door of one's sweetheart. The painter Pausias, likewise a native of Sicyon, loved her passionately and used to enter into competition with her, whether she could wreathe flowers more artistically than he himself could paint them. He painted a portrait which represented her seated with a flower wreath; it was so excellent that the Roman general Lucullus, after the Mithridatic War, when he was making a collection of statues and paintings, paid two talents for a copy.

It is not strange that many of the hetæræ, noted for their superlative beauty and for their cultivation of art and literature and the refinements of life, should attain historical celebrity and, as heroines of the demi-monde, should influence for weal or woe the destinies of Greece. We shall briefly notice important incidents in the careers of a few of the members of this prominent class.

Gnathæna, daughter of the panderess Sinope, was one of the most keen-witted and clever of Athenian hetæræ. She was noted for her happy play on words. She also devised a set of rules for the conduct of dinners and banquets, which lovers had to observe when they visited her or her daughter, Gnathænion. In this she imitated the most cultured hosts of Athens, and exhibited a regard for social forms which throws a commendable light on the deportment of the more cultivated hetæræ. Gnathænion, the daughter, was for some time the favorite of the comic poet Diphilus, and he had many a brilliant passage of repartee with the mother on the occasion of his visits to the daughter.

Melitta was another famous hetæræ, beloved for her beautiful figure and voice as well as for her pleasing conversation and sprightliness. As each of her lovers said, "the fair Melitta was his madness," she was also called Mania. She was one of the many favorites of Demetrius the Besieger. More celebrated, however, than Melitta as a favorite of Demetrius was the beautiful Lamia, the most renowned flute player of antiquity. She was the daughter of a prominent Athenian citizen, by name Cleanor, and, choosing to follow the independent life of a hetæræ, she made her native city the first scene of her exploits. From here she journeyed to Alexandria, where by her art and her beauty she speedily won recognition at the court of Ptolemy. Accompanying Ptolemy Soter in his naval war against Antigonus and Demetrius, she fell a prisoner into the hands of the latter. Although her youth and beauty were already on the wane, she succeeded in captivating Demetrius, who was much younger than herself, so that, as Plutarch states, he appeared to be actually her lover, while with other women he was only the object of love. Lamia ruled him completely and led him into many excesses. Thus he once compelled the Athenians to collect for him at short notice two hundred and fifty talents, and when it was finally brought to him he sent it straightway to Lamia and her companions, "for pin money," Lamia herself on one occasion exacted from the citizens an enormous sum of money to prepare a magnificent banquet for Demetrius. This banquet, because of the exorbitant expenses which it occasioned, was so extraordinarily notorious that Lycurgus of Samos wrote a book about it. On this account, a comic poet characterized Lamia as the trueHelepolis, or city destroyer, the name of one of the most famous engines of war of Demetrius. Demetrius remained passionately enamored of her, even after her beauty had faded. As a means of flattering Demetrius, the Athenians erected altars to her, made propitiatory offerings, and celebrated her festival. The Thebans went so far as to erect a temple in her honor, and worshipped her as Aphrodite Lamia.

Pythionice, the favorite of Harpalus, the friend and confidant of Alexander the Great, partook of honors which rivalled those of Lamia. During the most brilliant period of Harpalus's career, Pythionice was summoned to Babylon, where she shared his honors and bore the title of a queen of Babylon. A letter from the historian Theopompus to Alexander is extant, in which he speaks of the passionate devotion of Harpalus to his favorite, and thus alludes to her: "To this Pythionice, a slave of the flute player Bacchis, who in turn was a slave of the hetæra Sinope, Harpalus erected two monuments, one at Athens and one at Babylon, at a cost of more than two hundred talents, which seemed cheap to that spend-thrift; and, in addition, he had a precinct and a sanctuary dedicated to her, which he named the temple and altar of Aphrodite Pythionice. She bore him a daughter, and died before the sudden change which came in his fortunes."

Another favorite of Harpalus, and later of the celebrated deformed comic poet Menander, was Glycera, the daughter of Thalassis. She was a native of Athens, and passed most of her time in the company of littérateurs and philosophers. The Megarian philosopher Stilpo once accused her, at a banquet, of misleading the youth through her seductive art. She made the reply: "Stilpo, we are in this under like condemnation. It is said of you that you impart to your pupils profitless and eristic sophisms, of me that I teach them erotic sophisms." Some of Glycera's letters to her poet lover Menander, still extant, show how warm a sympathy existed between the two, and how delicate a sentiment could characterize such a union.

One of the names of hetæræ famous in both ancient and modern times is that of Lais, which belonged to two Greek women celebrated for their extraordinary beauty, who are differentiated by being known as Lais the Elder and Lais the Younger.

The elder and indisputably more famous of the two was the daughter of that hetæra, Timandra, who remained faithful to Alcibiades in his evil fortunes. As a seven-year-old maiden, Lais was taken captive by the Athenians during the sack of her birthplace, Hyccara in Sicily, and was brought as a slave to Corinth. Here she was early initiated into the arts of gallantry and was given a thorough training in the culture of the day.

The physical charms of Lais developed into a beauty rarely witnessed. Her bosom was of such indescribable perfection that sculptors and painters took it as a model in their creations of the ideal female form. She was regarded as surpassing not only all her contemporaries, but also all the famous beauties of earlier times; and later ages regarded her as the prototype of womanly beauty, and delighted in giving lengthy and minute descriptions of her charms, as, for example, that by the sophist Aristænetus in the first of his fifty erotic epistles.

Soon after her first appearance, Lais was talked of, was celebrated, was deified, in all Hellenic lands. It was considered good fortune, as a Greek poet expressed it, that Lais, the most beautiful of her sex, adopted the hetæra life; for were she not accessible to all, there would have been in Greece a conflict comparable only to that over Argive Helen.

The reputation of her beauty occasioned in a short time a formidable immigration to Corinth of the most wealthy and distinguished men, partly to enjoy her favor, partly to gaze in wonder at her charms, and partly to study this paragon of female beauty for imitation in works of art. From the homage that she received, and especially the wealth that was poured at her feet by her lovers, she was soon rendered so proud and selfish that she secluded herself from all except the richest. Her proud heart, however, was not entirely closed to emotions of love. She took a fancy to the Cynic philosopher Diogenes, in spite of his filth and brusqueness; and Ælian tells the story of her inclination for a young athlete, Eubatas of Cyrene, who had come to Corinth for the games, leaving behind a most beautiful and beloved wife. "When Lais became acquainted with Eubatas of Cyrene," says Ælian, "she was so enamored of him that she made a proposal of marriage. In order not to bring down on himself the vengeance of the powerful hetæra, he became betrothed to her, but yet continued to live a continent life. At the conclusion of the games, he had to fulfil his promise. But after he had been declared victor, in order to avoid the appearance of breaking faith with the courtesan, he had a picture of Lais painted, and took it with him to Cyrene, affirming that he had not broken his promise, but had brought Lais home with him. As a reward for his fidelity, his virtuous wife in Cyrene had a statue erected in his honor."

Aristippus, the founder of the Cyrenaic school of philosophy, tried in vain to win the love of this beautiful hetæra, though, of all her lovers, he passed the most time in her society, and on her lavished considerable sums of money.

Lais gained much knowledge from intercourse with this learned philosopher, so that she ranked not only as the most beautiful, but also as one of the most brilliant women of her time. She allied herself with the Cyrenaic school, whose system of philosophy appealed to her much more naturally than did the gross system of her favorite, Diogenes, who on his side sought in every way to win the celebrated beauty to Cynicism. Lais had nothing but contempt, however, for the moral claims of philosophy. "I do not understand," she said, "what is meant by the austerity of philosophers; for they of this fine name are as much in my power as the rest of the citizens."

The charms of Lais, though so unapproachable in their bloom, yet proved transient, and pitiable was the metamorphosis which the brilliancy of the famous beauty underwent with their fading. Wealthy admirers became fewer and fewer, and finally they ceased to appear, and with them her resources failed. The once proud beauty became the plaything of every man. She sought to drown her sorrow in the wine cup--a practice altogether too common among Greek women of disreputable life. At this sad period of her career, Lais dedicated her mirror, as being an unpleasant reminder of her lost beauty, to the goddess to whose service she had devoted her life. In her later years, she followed the vile trade of a procuress.

After her death, the Corinthians remembered what a reputation it had given their city to be the abiding place of so famous a woman, and they erected to her a mausoleum at Craneion, a cypress grove near the city, on which a lioness tearing a kid in pieces symbolized the rapacity of the deceased hetæra.

Lais the Younger was a contemporary of the orator Demosthenes and the painter Apelles, and flourished nearly a century after her more celebrated namesake. She too lived at Corinth, and was famous for her beauty and her association with distinguished men. She was born out of wedlock, and the names of both her father and mother are unknown. As she grew up, a waif in the dissolute city, Apelles, the celebrated painter, is said to have been the first to have noticed her budding beauty and to have educated her. According to the prevailing tradition, Apelles saw her when, as a young girl, she was drawing water from the fountain Pirene, and was at once so captivated by her beauty that he took her with him to a banquet whither he was going. When his friends jestingly reproached him because, instead of bringing a hetæra, as was usual, he had brought a child to the feast, he rejoined: "Be not surprised. I will show her again to you before three years have passed; you can then see how beautiful and vivacious she has become."

Before this period had passed, Lais became the most celebrated hetæra of the city. Her name was on everyone's lips, in the baths, in the theatres, and on the streets and public squares. Her fame spread throughout Hellas, and the richest men of Hellas flocked to Corinth. She was surpassed in the number and prominence of her lovers only by her contemporary, Phryne of Athens.

When at the height of her triumph, this celebrated and petted hetæra, "who inflamed all Hellas with love, and for whose favors two seas contended," suddenly disappeared from the scene of her conquests. A Thessalian, by name Hippolochus, had taught her the meaning of true love. She fled with him from the company of her other lovers, and lived in honorable marriage in Thessaly. Her beauty, however, caused a sad ending to this pleasing romance. From envy and jealousy, the Thessalian women enticed her into the temple of Aphrodite and there stoned her to death. Some historians relate that she had many Thessalian lovers; this aroused the jealousy of the women, and they took her life at a festival of Aphrodite at which no men were present. After her murder, a pestilence is said to have broken out in Thessaly, which did not end until in expiation a temple had been erected to Aphrodite.

Phryne was the most beautiful woman of all antiquity. She was born at Thespiæ in Boeotia, but flourished at Athens toward the latter part of the fourth century before our era. The name Phryne belongs essentially to the history of Greek art, for all her life was associated with the activities of the most eminent painters and sculptors. In her youth she was loved by the sculptor Praxiteles. Pausanias tells a story how "once when Phryne asked for the most beautiful of his works, Praxiteles, lover-like, promised to give it to her, but would not tell which he thought the most beautiful. So a servant of Phryne ran in, declaring that the sculptor's studio had caught fire, and that most, but not all, of his works had perished. Praxiteles at once ran for the door, protesting that all his labor was lost if the flames had reached theSatyrand theLove. But Phryne bade him stay and be of good cheer, telling him that he had suffered no loss, but had only been entrapped into saying which were the most beautiful of his works. So she chose theLove."

PHRYNEAfter the painting by Henry I. Siemiradsky.Phryne, with a modesty one would not expect in a womanof her class, was very careful to keep her beautiful figureconcealed, avoiding the public baths and having her bodyalways enveloped in a long and graceful tunic. But ontwo occasions the beauty-loving Greeks had displayed tothem the charms of her person. The fist was at thesolemn assembly at Eleusis, on the feast of the Poseidonia.Having loosened her beautiful hair and let fall her drapery,Phryne plunged into the sea in the sight of all the assembled Greeks.Phryne was of very humble origin, and originallyobtained her livelihood by gathering capers; but her beautyafterward gained great wealth for her. At Delphi therewas erected a statue in gold of her.

Either this or a similar statue of Eros was dedicated by Phryne in Thespiæ, the city of her birth. Later, Praxiteles made of her a statue of gold, which was set up at Delphi between those of two kings. She also served as his model for the celebrated Aphrodite of Cnidos, which Pliny describes as "the finest statue, not only by Praxiteles, but in the whole world." The inhabitants of Cnidos placed the image, which they believed had been made under the direct inspiration of the goddess of love herself, in a beautiful shrine surrounded by myrtle trees, so arranged that the figure might be seen from many different points of view; "and from all sides," adds Pliny, "it was equally admired." Hither came Greeks from all parts of the world merely to behold the statue and to worship at the shrine of the goddess. King Nicomedes of Bithynia, in his eagerness to possess the statue, offered to pay for it the whole public debt of the island, which was enormous; but the Cnidians preferred to suffer anything rather than give up their treasure; and with good reason, "for by that statue Praxiteles made Cnidos famous." Writers of epigrams were fond of extolling the statue; and many of the extant statues of Venus are but replicas or adaptations of this great prototype, modelled after the form of Phryne. The most celebrated copy of the Cnidian statue is in the Vatican, disfigured, however, by false drapery. The statue gives us some idea of the superlative beauty of Phryne. It is very pure, very unconscious of its charms, and captivates the beholder by its simple grace and naturalness. Lucian, the æsthetic critic, in the construction of his ideal statue selected for description the head of the Aphrodite of Cnidos. He particularly admired the finely pencilled telling him that he had suffered no loss, but had only been entrapped into saying which were the most beautiful of his works. So she chose theLove."

Either this or a similar statue of Eros was dedicated by Phryne in Thespiæ, the city of her birth. Later, Praxiteles made of her a statue of gold, which was set up at Delphi between those of two kings. She also served as his model for the celebrated Aphrodite of Cnidos, which Pliny describes as "the finest statue, not only by Praxiteles, but in the whole world." The inhabitants of Cnidos placed the image, which they believed had been made under the direct inspiration of the goddess of love herself, in a beautiful shrine surrounded by myrtle trees, so arranged that the figure might be seen from many different points of view; "and from all sides," adds Pliny, "it was equally admired." Hither came Greeks from all parts of the world merely to behold the statue and to worship at the shrine of the goddess. King Nicomedes of Bithynia, in his eagerness to possess the statue, offered to pay for it the whole public debt of the island, which was enormous; but the Cnidians preferred to suffer anything rather than give up their treasure; and with good reason, "for by that statue Praxiteles made Cnidos famous." Writers of epigrams were fond of extolling the statue; and many of the extant statues of Venus are but replicas or adaptations of this great prototype, modelled after the form of Phryne. The most celebrated copy of the Cnidian statue is in the Vatican, disfigured, however, by false drapery. The statue gives us some idea of the superlative beauty of Phryne. It is very pure, very unconscious of its charms, and captivates the beholder by its simple grace and naturalness. Lucian, the æsthetic critic, in the construction of his ideal statue selected for description the head of the Aphrodite of Cnidos. He particularly admired the finely pencilled eyebrows and the melting gaze of the eyes, with their sweet, joyous expression.

Phryne, with a modesty one would not expect in a woman of her class, was very careful to keep her beautiful figure concealed, avoiding the public baths and having her body always enveloped in a long and graceful tunic. But on two occasions the beauty-loving Greeks had displayed to them the charms of her person. The first was at the solemn assembly at Eleusis, on the feast of the Poseidonia. Having loosened her beautiful hair and let fall her drapery, Phryne plunged into the sea in the sight of all the assembled Greeks. Apelles, the painter, transported with admiration at the sight, retired at once to his studio and transferred to canvas the mental image which was indelibly impressed upon his fancy; and the resulting picture was theAphrodite Anadyomene, the most celebrated of his paintings.

The second exhibition was before the austere court of the Heliasts. Phryne had been cited to appear before the tribunal on the charge of profaning the Eleusinian mysteries, and Hyperides, the brilliant young orator, was her advocate. Failing to move the judges by his arguments, he tore the tunic from her bosom and revealed to them the perfection of her figure. The judges, beholding as it were the goddess of love incarnate, and moved by a superstitious fear, could not dare to condemn to death "a prophetess and priestess of Aphrodite." They saw and they pardoned, and, amid the applause of the people, Phryne was carried in triumph to the temple of Aphrodite. To us in this day such a scene appears highly theatrical, but Aphrodite is no longer esteemed among men, and the Greek worship of beauty is something not understood in this material age.

Phryne's life was by no means free from blame, and as the result of her popularity she acquired great riches. She is said to have offered to rebuild the walls of Thebes, which had been torn down by Alexander, on condition that she might place on them the inscription:Alexander destroyed Thebes; but Phryne, the hetæra, rebuilt it;but the offer was rejected, showing that though the times were corrupt, yet shame had not altogether departed from men.

One cannot emphasize in too trenchant terms the demoralizing influences of hetairism on the social life of the Greeks, or fail to see in the gross immorality of the sexes one of the paramount causes of the downfall of the Greek peoples.

Yet it is a truism that feminine shamelessness was most advantageous for the arts of sculpture and painting. Sensuousness is close akin to sensuality, and from their passion for these "priestesses of Aphrodite" the Greek artists, without doubt, derived much of their inspiration, while the opportunities which hetairism offered for the study of the female form enabled Praxiteles and his contemporaries and successors to produce masterpieces which equalled in idealism the works of æsthetic art produced in the preceding century.

To become the ideal for the painter and the sculptor was the greatest ambition of the beautiful and cultivated hetæra. In permitting the artist to portray her charms she not only performed a lasting service for art, but she also rendered herself celebrated and immortal. The fame of her beauty was spread throughout all Hellenic lands, and the national devotion to the goddess Aphrodite was at once extended to her earthly counterpart. If she united intellectual brilliancy with beauty, fortune at once cast its most precious gifts at her feet. The most celebrated men of every city contested for her favors, poets made her the theme of their verses, artists portrayed her charms with chisel and with brush, and the wealthy filled her coffers with gold and precious stones.

Anyone who makes a careful perusal of the philosophical literature of Athens in the fourth century before our era will be struck with the amount of attention that has been paid to the question of the social and domestic position of woman. If he trace the subject back, he will observe that in the dramatic literature of the latter part of the previous century the same problems received the consideration of Euripides and Aristophanes. And the conviction will be forced upon him that this agitation was rooted in a sociological movement of great import, and that the dramatic and philosophical writers merely gave a literary form to the debates which profoundly stirred Athenian society in the fifth century.

This discussion of woman's rights is a subject of perennial interest, and the underlying currents in such movements are usually the same in every age. They take their rise, too, not in the efforts of philanthropic men who recognize that the status of woman is not what it should be, but in the efforts of the members of the sex themselves, who are sufficiently intelligent to see that they, while having an abundant share of the burdens, have not a fair share of the emoluments of life, and consequently endeavor to better the conditions which environ themselves and their sisters.

In this chapter we shall make a study of the dramatists and philosophers of Athens, in so far as they give insight into the social life of the city in its most important epoch, and outline what they contribute to our knowledge of Greek woman and the ever-present Woman Question.

For the early part of this brilliant period we must rely on the ideal pictures of tragedy for the higher side, and the ribald travesties of comedy for the lower side of feminine life, Æschylus flourished just before and during the glorious period following the Persian War,--the good days before the influx of foreigners and the new education corrupted the life and undermined the faith of the citizens. In his seven extant plays he has presented to us only three feminine characters of any importance,--Clytemnestra, Electra, and Cassandra,--all belonging to the cycle of tragedies treating of the fate of King Agamemnon and his royal house at Mycenæ. The dramatist's pictures of home life show his high conception of the ability and the importance of women and of the large part they play in human history. His Clytemnestra is a ruling queen exercising all the functions of royalty, but her powerful nature has been debased by grief and sin. She identifies herself with the "ancient bitter Alastor," who visits on Agamemnon the curse of his house. She is self-sufficingness, adamantine purpose, studied craft, and cold disdain incarnate. With fulsome speech and consummate flattery she welcomes her husband home; and when the deed is done and he lies dead by her hand, in exultant tones she rejoices in the blood upon her robe as "a cornfield in the dews of spring." Truly she is the most powerful portrait of feminine guilt that dramatic literature affords us. Æschylus drew his scenery and his characters largely from the conditions of the Heroic Age as pictured by Homer, and was little affected by the current of everyday life about him.

As Æschylus has given us Clytemnestra for an ideal type of feminine power and wickedness, so Sophocles has presented two immortal heroines, Antigone and Electra, who are statuesque in the beauty and grandeur of their characters. In Antigone we observe two fundamental qualities,--enthusiasm in the performance of duty, and intensity of domestic affection, as seen in her efforts to reconcile her brothers, Polynices and Eteocles, her desire to shield her sister Ismene, her self-sacrifice for the sake of her brother Polynices, and her filial devotion to her aged father. Electra also is an ideal type of sisterly love. Ill-treated by her unnatural mother, abused by the cowardly and brutal tyrant who had usurped her father's place, only one ray of hope was left her, that her brother Orestes would return to avenge their wrongs upon the guilty pair. When the deed is done, and Orestes is pursued by the Furies, she proves herself a devoted and unselfish sister. In these two characters we have sublime conceptions of heroic devotion to duty, but the more human womanly traits have been lost in the poet's delineation of them as the embodiment of lofty ideals.

Mahaffy finds in these two heroines something hard and masculine, traits which would not stir the sympathies of the reader or hearer and lead to emulation. He prefers Sophocles's Deianira and Tecmessa as being "truly 'female women,' as Homer would say, gentle and loving, not above jealousy, and for that reason a finer and clearer contrast to the heroes than are the coarser and more dominant heroines." ... "If these criticisms be just," he adds, "they will show that, in the most perfect and exclusive Athenian society--that is to say, among Thucydides's and Sophocles's set, the ideal of female character had degenerated; that to these men, whose affections were centred on very different objects, the notion of a true heroine was no longer natural, but was supplanted by a hard and masculine type. The old free, noble woman, whom Æschylus had, in early days, still known, was banished from their city life to make way for the domestic slave of the Attic household, called 'mistress,' but as such contrasted with the 'companions,' who gradually supplanted her in Athenian society."

The types of womanhood presented by Æschylus and Sophocles belonged to a state of society which had passed away, and were too remote from the life of their own day to be ideals for the daughters of Athens. These dramatists did not touch upon the problems which were then engaging the thoughts of enlightened men and women. There is nothing in Æschylus, absorbed as he was in the problems of destiny, to show that he felt the many weighty problems that confronted the social life of his time; and the serene Sophocles gives no hint that the world about him was not the best of all possible worlds. But how was it with the sombre and melancholy Euripides? What insight does he give us into the social life of the times?

There was a famous saying of Sophocles that "he himself represented men as they ought to be--Euripides, men as they are." This means that Euripides, while making the old legends the foundation of his tragedies, attributed to his heroes and heroines the faults and passions of ordinary men and women and utilized his plots to present the problems which confronted society as he knew it. As a follower of Anaxagoras and a member of the party of philosophers, he was dissatisfied with the conditions of life about him, and endeavored, through his dramas, to assist the movements for reform. He was, in many respects, a daring innovator, and this explains the bitter hostility which Aristophanes, the ultra-conservative, exhibited toward him. The glaring fault in Athenian social life was the status of woman, and to the solution of this problem Euripides bent all his energies. He used woman and the moral conflicts originating through the relations of the sexes as amotiffor his poetry, and the whole body of his plays is a commentary on the Woman Question. He found in the portrayal of woman a new field for his genius, as well as a new means of advocating an unpopular but righteous cause.

Yet we are confronted by the prevailing opinion that Euripides was a woman hater who utilized his tragedies to present his unfavorable opinion of the sex. This view, presented by many modern writers, rests, however, on false assumptions. To exhibit the low views of woman held by the men of his day, the poet attributes to certain of his characters condemnations of the sex as a whole; and these are taken to be expressions of the personal opinion of the author. Thus Hippolytus engages in a lengthy tirade beginning:

"Why hast thou given a home beneath the sun,Zeus, unto woman, specious curse to man?"

"Why hast thou given a home beneath the sun,

Zeus, unto woman, specious curse to man?"

But Hippolytus throughout is characterized as a pronounced misogynist, and this and similar passages found their inspiration in the characters and the situation and produce a well-defined dramatic effect. Furthermore, while the poet's unfavorable opinions of women are frequently cited out of their connection, his complimentary expressions are lost sight of. In contrast to the harsh criticisms of men who vent their spleen against those whom they have injured, or of women who find fault with their sex where the dramatic purpose justifies the expressions used, there can be cited passages in which maidenly modesty and wifely fidelity are commended; or one might quote the deeply emotional words of Admetus or Theseus concerning the joys of happy married life, or the tender expressions which fathers, like Agamemnon, utter in reference to their daughters. In the fragments also occur passages friendly and unfriendly to woman, but, as these are without their context, it is difficult to judge them fairly. Hence the conclusion from a study of the dialogues of Euripides is that every unfavorable judgment of woman finds its full justification in the economy of the drama; nowhere is there convincing indication that the poet himself had any hatred for the sex.

If we turn from the dialogues to the choruses, we may expect to find the author's true opinions, and here occur no traces whatever of unfriendly criticism. Male choruses sing of the unbounded happiness which is gained in the possession of a good wife; female choruses sing of entrancing love, of the blessings of a happy married life, while faithlessness and sinful passion are condemned. They refer at times to evil report concerning women, but always with indignation and in manifest effort to correct a wrong judgment. Thus, for example, the chorus of theIon:

"Mark--ye whose strains of slanderScourge evermoreWoman in song, and brand herWanton and whore,--How high in virtue's placeWe pass men's lawless race,Nor spit in viper-lays your venom-store.But let the Muse of tauntingOn men's heads pourHer indignation, chantingHer treason-lore;Sing of the outraged maid;Tell of the wife betrayedOf him who hath displayed his false heart's core--"

"Mark--ye whose strains of slander

Scourge evermore

Woman in song, and brand her

Wanton and whore,--

How high in virtue's place

We pass men's lawless race,

Nor spit in viper-lays your venom-store.

But let the Muse of taunting

On men's heads pour

Her indignation, chanting

Her treason-lore;

Sing of the outraged maid;

Tell of the wife betrayed

Of him who hath displayed his false heart's core--"

The nature of the characters of Euripides is the most important of all the testimony of the plays as evidence of the social life of Athens, since the poet drew them from real life, and consequently his men and his women are necessarily fair specimens of the men and women to be found in Athenian society. It is noticeable that the men are, as a rule, far inferior to the women, both in manners and in nobility of character, and are not to be compared with the heroes of Æschylus and Sophocles. Hippolytus is indeed a notable example of youthful purity; Pylades, of unselfish friendship; Achilles, of courtly chivalry; Ion, of youthful piety; Theseus, of devoted patriotism; and the peasant husband of Electra, of knightly regard; but the majority of the male characters are selfish, quarrelsome, and ordinary. How different do we find the case when we consider the dramatist's women!

Differing from his countrymen in the conception of the character, capabilities, and rights of woman, Euripides has in his plays presented ideals of a womanhood which would give woman something higher to live for than the drudgery of household duties, and would raise the sex in the estimation of men. Heroism in everyday life is the lesson he constantly teaches by the examples of such women as Alcestis, the devoted wife and mother; as Polyxena, the brave martyr-maiden; as Andromache, faithful in thraldom to the memory of her valiant husband; as Macaria and Iphigenia, sacrificing themselves for the sake of a great cause; and as Electra, the devoted sister. Nowhere can one find a longer catalogue of noble women, not heroines of prehistoric days living in a golden age, but women who in character and sentiments were like to those met with every day in every community. Euripides's heart was burdened by the sorrows and wrongs of the sex; and he combated the social system which was at the root of the evil, not by violent assaults upon it, not by seeking to overturn that which was the product of centuries and was a natural result of the Greek idea of the city-state, but by showing women how they could better their condition and by giving men more exalted ideas of the nature of woman. Says Mr. Arthur S. Way, the translator and ardent advocate of Euripides, who, of all Greek scholars, has most profoundly and sympathetically investigated this question:

"Euripides set himself to appeal to human hearts as he found them, to exalt men's estimate of woman, to redeem women from despair of themselves, by uplifting before them inspiring ideals of womanhood which might be types and examples for all time. And, first, he gave them those transcendent four--who in the union of the sweetness and lovable gentleness of the pure womanly with the magnificent exaltation of the highest heroism are unapproached by Homer's Penelope and Andromache, or by Sophocles's Antigone. He gave them Alcestis, who surrendered her life freely, not so much for her husband as for wifely duty's sake, and never flinched nor faltered as the horror of great darkness swallowed her up, but by strength of a mother's love stayed up the feet that were sinking into Hades, till her dying breath had made her children's future sure, and then in death's grasp quietly laid her hand, and so was drawn down, faintly and ever more faintly murmuring love. He gave them Iphigenia, who, summoned from the cloistered shelter of her home as to a bridal, found herself set without warning before the altar of death, and yet shrank and shuddered only till the full import of the great sacrifice demanded dawned upon her, and then sprang full-statured to the height of a godlike resolve; who grasped in her pure hands the scales of national justice, who bore up with her slender wrists the fate of her fatherland, and sang the triumph pasan of Hellas as she paced to death. He gave them Macaria, who attained a height of selfless heroism unimagined till that hour, in that unasked she gave her life for the salvation of a noble house and of alien helpers; who refused to hearken to the suggestion which whispered a hope of escape, but with unreverted eyes turned from all joys and all hopes of young life, and spent her last breath in consolation and encouragement to those who clung with adoring love and passionate tears about her parting feet. He gave them Polyxena, the most pathetic figure of all, sustained by no proud consciousness of salvation wrought from suffering, but only welcoming death as an angel of deliverance from shame and long regrets, who stood on the grave-mound, arrayed in spotless innocence, with modest lips that calmly made in the name of honor their last request, and so gave her throat to the sword, while the fierce men who but now had clamored for her blood acclaimed her of all maidens noblest of soul.

"He brought before them women in all the relations of life, everywhere surpassing the men in goodness, in constancy, in wisdom, in counsel. They watched the ministering angel who sat by a brother's bed, and wiped the dew of agony from his brow and the foam of madness from his lips; they held their breath while a gentle-hearted priestess bemoaned to her unknown brother the cruel destiny which even then drew her to the verge of fratricide. They saw the wife who hailed a death of fire to be reunited to her slain lord, and the wife who devoted herself to save, or die with, her husband. They heard one mother plead the cause of honor and right against cold statecraft; they listened as another besought her doomed sons to be reconciled. They thrilled beholding the princess-slave whose love was stronger than death and whose highborn spirit flashed defiance to a treacherous foe; and that other, who, remembering her hero-husband, would not suffer the imminent death to make herself or her children play a craven part, but mingled proud scorn of the murderous usurper with regrets for hopes foregone. In the noble words of Professor Mahaffy: 'These are the women who have so raised the ideal of the sex, that in looking upon them the world has passed from neglect to courtesy, from courtesy to veneration; these are they, who, across many centuries, first of frivolity and sensuality, then of rudeness and barbarism, join hands with the ideals of our religion and our chivalry, the martyred saints, the chaste and holy virgins of romance--nay, more, with the true wives, the devoted mothers, of our own day.'

"But there are female characters in his plays which have been pointed to as proving a very different attitude toward women. Of these, Phædra was the best-abused by his enemies, who wilfully shut their eyes to her true character. She is, by the very plot of the play, the helpless victim of the malice of a goddess. With her brain beclouded by fever frenzy, she agonizes for clear vision and wails for peace of mind. She is a pure-souled, true-hearted woman, who tingles with shame and shudders with horror at the hideous thing that has been born in her. She is driven by the imminence of ruin to a desperate expedient to shield her name from the unmerited dishonor which she might well believe, from the ambiguously worded threat with which Hippolytus departed, was to be cast upon her. He gave her cause to think that he would accuse her to his father of a crime of which she knew herself innocent. In her despair, she saw no help but to forestall him by an accusation equally false.

"Medea and Creusa--even Clytemnestra and Hermione--are not portrayed as transgressors without excuse: in each case, the audience heard the woman plead her cause and proclaim the doctrine that woman has rights as well as man, that what man avenges as the inexpiable wrong is not a light offence against her. It may well be that they were not ripe for the reception of ideas so unheard-of, that many of them mistook his drift; but the seed sank in, to bear fruit in due time.

"In each instance the sinner is a woman deeply wronged, or in sore straits, or under dæmoniac influence: there are no such gratuitously wicked characters as Goneril, Lady Macbeth, or Tamora. Yet no one calls Shakespeare a misogynist. Why, then, was it possible for Euripides's enemies to charge him with being one, a charge doubtless echoed by a good many thoughtless and stupid people in his day, but little creditable to modern scholarship? For three reasons: first, the wilful or obtuse misunderstanding of such characters as Phædra--the representation of these by Euripides was the main ground on which Aristophanes alleged that the tendency of his plays was immoral. Secondly, we occasionally come upon the censures of the faults and foibles of women--their proneness to scandal, to uncharitable judgments of their fellows, their pettiness, frivolity, and so forth. It must be admitted, too, that the context sometimes justifies us in concluding that the poet is uttering his own sentiments. It was, indeed, to be expected that a thinker who had so high a conception of what women might be should be painfully impressed by the contrast presented by what they too often were. Nor is it matter for wonder that he should take opportunities of bringing the same feeling home to them. It is not enough to set noble ideals before people who are not yet conscious of the incompatibility of their present habits and aims with the emulation of those ideals. Faithful are the wounds of a friend, as indeed these were, compared with the hideous presentments of female morality in which Aristophanes revels, till his readers might imagine that pure and temperate women were quite the exception in the Athens of his day. And was he not a friend to women who gave, for the sake of his sisters for whom heroic ideals might seem set too high, this winsome model, 'not too fair and good for human nature's daily food'?

"'Beauty wins not love for woman from the yokemate of her life:Many an one by goodness wins it; for to each true-hearted wife,Knit in love unto her husband, is Discretion's secret told.These her gifts are: though her lord be all uncomely to behold,To her heart and eyes shall he be comely, so her wit be sound;('Tis not eyes that judge theman; within is true discernment found):Whensoever he speaks, or holds his peace, shall she his sense commend,Prompt with sweet suggestion when with speech he fain would please a friend:Glad she is, if aught untoward hap, to show she feels his care:Joy and sorrow of the husband aye the loyal wife will share:Yea, if thou art sick, in spirit will thy wife be sick with thee,Bear the half of all thy burdens--naught unsweet accounteth she:For with those we love our duty bids us taste the cup of blissNot alone, the cup of sorrow also--what is love but this?'"

"'Beauty wins not love for woman from the yokemate of her life:

Many an one by goodness wins it; for to each true-hearted wife,

Knit in love unto her husband, is Discretion's secret told.

These her gifts are: though her lord be all uncomely to behold,

To her heart and eyes shall he be comely, so her wit be sound;

('Tis not eyes that judge theman; within is true discernment found):

Whensoever he speaks, or holds his peace, shall she his sense commend,

Prompt with sweet suggestion when with speech he fain would please a friend:

Glad she is, if aught untoward hap, to show she feels his care:

Joy and sorrow of the husband aye the loyal wife will share:

Yea, if thou art sick, in spirit will thy wife be sick with thee,

Bear the half of all thy burdens--naught unsweet accounteth she:

For with those we love our duty bids us taste the cup of bliss

Not alone, the cup of sorrow also--what is love but this?'"

The ill-deserved reputation of being a misogynist which attaches to Euripides is due, not to his own plays, but to the satire and drollery of his rival, the comedian Aristophanes, who, in B. C. 411 or 410, produced theThesmophoriazusæ, a play so cleverly constructed that, while it seemed to defend the female sex against the charges of Euripides, really presented them in a more disgusting light. Aristophanes represents the world of women as thrown into consternation and revolt through the production of the tragedies of Euripides, such as theHippolytus, wherein the female sex is so severely arraigned. Unable to endure his accusations, an assembly of women is called at the Thesmophoria to plan the destruction of their arch enemy. Euripides, however, hears of the assembly, and prevails on his father-in-law, Mnesilochus, to disguise himself as a woman and seek admittance, that he may plead the cause of the tragedian. The humor of the debate lies in the fact that, after several women have roundly abused Euripides for slandering their sex, Mnesilochus, attired in rustic female garb, eloquently reminds them of the truths which Euripides might have divulged had he chosen to do so. One sin after another is glibly and facetiously piled up against the feminine record, until the few calumnies attributed to Euripides seem insignificant beside the mountain of crimes and foibles the supposed matron heaps up against her sisters. The picture which Aristophanes, in his clever bit of satire, presents of the women of his day is an exceedingly repulsive one. They are represented as profligate, licentious, stupid, fond of drink, thieves and liars. No other Greek writer has given them so base a character. But we must remember that we are reading comedy. "The point of theThesmophoriazusæ, so far as the women are concerned, is that, while Aristophanes pretends to pillory Euripides for his abuse of them, his own satire is far more searching and penetrates more deeply into the secrets of domestic life."

The grotesque distortion by Aristophanes of the character of the philosopher Socrates is sufficiently well known; the contrast between the sentiments which he attributes to Euripides and the tragic poet's own views as presented in his plays is very striking; hence the pictures that he draws of the life and manners of women must not be accepted without important allowances. Aristophanes was writing to make people laugh, not to reveal the secrets of the household, and his plays were exclusively for an audience of men. Hence coarseness and buffoonery, as elements of comic effect, are continually availed of, and Aristophanes considered that he was witty in maligning the female sex. It would clearly be unfair and even absurd to regard Aristophanes as an accurate expositor of feminine life in Athens. But it is a noticeable fact that, from B. C. 411 onward, there is, as seen in the extant plays of Aristophanes, a marked prominence given to the female sex. Women, who heretofore have played but a subordinate rôle in comedy, now frequently have the principal parts. Comedy, more truly than any other department of literature, reflects the current thought; and while the characters of comedy play a rôle that is the reverse of actuality, comic invention deals with real movements, and this intentional prominence of the usually neglected sex can have but one interpretation: the Woman Question had become a problem which profoundly engaged the attention of the society of the time.

It is a difficult task to attempt to trace in the comedies of Aristophanes the thread of a social movement. He utilized the events and opinions of the day for fun making, and did not greatly concern himself with the serious aspects of social problems. He was an ultra-conservative, and desired to bring the new thought of the day into disrepute by exhibiting its ludicrous side. Hence he makes use of the woman's rights movement to give free rein to his fancy, and to delight the public with obscene jokes on the vices and weaknesses of women and with clever caricatures of their leaders. Yet the attentive reader can get glimpses here and there into the more serious aspects of the question, and can recognize behind some of the distorted, caricatured figures types which are not in themselves comic.

The other two plays of Aristophanes in which women figure prominently are theLysistrataand theEcclesiazusæ. In each of these the company of women is directed by a leader who in talents and aggressiveness is far superior to her fellows. These two have not the many small weaknesses of the other dames; they have the collective interest of their sex at heart; and they know how to form a plan and how to carry it through. The other women, in spite of their thoughtlessness and weakness of character, are dominated by the strong personalities of their self-appointed leaders. Hence, by a study of the controlling spirit of each play, in spite of the caricature in the poet's delineation, we may be able to form some conception of the currents of thought of the day as they affected women.

Lysistrata is the wife of an Athenian magistrate, and has been strongly affected by the ill success of the Peloponnesian War. She has meditated long over the experiences of the female sex in general during the last decade of the war. During the first ten years, the Grecian women had borne in silence and without forming any opinions, in the narrow confines of the home, the mistakes of their husbands; but gradually they had observed how politics, in the hands of the men, was going from bad to worse, and how want was increasing year by year. They began to ask questions, to find fault in a mild way, though only with the result that the men sent them back to their domestic duties with the brusque answer: "War shall be a care to men." That which finally roused the women to action was the realization that the men, in the face of events, had unanimously recognized their own helplessness. Lysistrata therefore, in Aristophanes's play, counsels the women to break their chains, seize the reins of government, and bring the dreadful war to an end. She tells the assembled women that they have carried a double burden in the war. As mothers, they have borne sons whom they have been compelled to send forth to death; while as wives, they have been deprived of their husbands; even the maidens have grown old in single blessedness, on account of the absence of men available as husbands. With such words as these she arouses the spirit of her comrades. They, in turn, speak of their virtues, their natural gifts, and their love for their native country, to which they are so much indebted, and in duty to it they are ready to turn their attention to things of war; for, say they: "The Attic woman is no slave, and has sufficient courage to take up arms in her country's cause: now, war shall be a care to women."

These reflections have a decided importance in a consideration of the social history of the times by suggesting how the female sex developed under the trying conditions of war.

In the poet's delineation of Lysistrata, the scene in which she describes to the assembled Athenian and Laconian deputies their political sins gains special importance. She possesses historical insight. By recounting historical facts, she reminds them of what the Laconians have done for the Athenians, and what the latter for the Laconians, and awakens them to general Pan-Hellenic interests, for which they should labor in common instead of weakening their power in fratricidal war. In this address she characterizes herself as follows: "I am a woman, it is true; but I have understanding; and of myself I am not badly off in respect of intellect. By having often heard the remarks of my father and my elders, I have not been ill educated."

We have then in theLysistratathe women of the day led on in a great patriotic movement by an educated and eloquent woman. The play exhibits a constant battle of words between men and women, each grouped in a chorus. The women seize the Acropolis and make themselves experts in the science of war. Their plans succeed; and the husbands are reduced to a terrible plight by the novel resolution adopted by their wives to bring them to terms. Envoys at length come from the belligerent parties, and peace is concluded under the direction of the clever Lysistrata.

If from the unbridled drollery and serious moral of the drama we endeavor to reach conclusions regarding the Woman Question, they will be found to be about as follows. There were at this time certain prominent women who were endeavoring to have the natural capabilities of the female sex more justly esteemed, and energetic voices were being raised against the humble status of woman in society and in public affairs. This movement was quickened in the latter part of the century, owing to the mistakes of the Peloponnesian War, but the efforts of women to assert their rights were met by the violent opposition of the conservative party. The leader in theLysistrata, in her gift of speech and breadth of understanding, typifies some historical women who took a prominent part in the movement, and these were, probably, some aristocratic ladies who had been influenced by Aspasia.

The unique importance of theLysistrataconsists in its portraiture of the leaders of the woman's rights movement and in its suggestion of the ambitious projects they were prepared to undertake. TheEcclesiazusæis, like theLysistrata, a picture of woman's ascendency, but it goes further in satirizing some of the schemes which in daily conversation and in the works of the philosophers were being presented for bettering the conditions of society and improving the status of women. The success of such a play presupposes that the minds of the audience were prepared for it by the informal discussion of such questions in everyday life. The Athenian ladies, in theEcdesiazusæ, under the leadership of Praxagora,--who is endowed with much the same gifts as Lysistrata, and is, in fact, a replica of that clever woman,--disguise themselves as men and crowd the public assembly; by means of the majority of votes which they have thus fraudulently obtained, they overturn the government of the men and proclaim the supremacy of the women in the State. Praxagora, the leading agitator, is chosenstrategis, and she immediately proclaims, as the fundamental principles of the new State, community of property and free trade between the sexes--ideas which were prominent in the idealRepublicof Plato and had been earlier projected by Protagoras. "The point of the satire consists in this: that the arguments by which the women get the upper hand all turn on their avowed conservatism; men change and shift, women preserve their old customs and will maintain theethosof the State; but no sooner have they got authority than they show themselves more democratic than the demagogues, more new-fangled in their political notions than the philosophers. They upset time-honored institutions and make new ones to suit their own caprices, squaring the laws according to the logic of feminine instinct. Of course, speculations like those of Plato'sRepublicare satirized in the farcical scenes which illustrate the consequences of this female revolution. But perhaps the finest point about the comedy is its harmonious insight into the workings of women's minds--a clear sense of what a topsy-turvy world we should have to live in if women were the lawgivers and governors."

We have thus briefly sketched the indications of the prevalence of the Woman Question in Athens, as presented in the plays of Aristophanes. This writer furthermore affords us many ludicrous pictures of woman in private life, which indicate that the fair sex were not always as weak as men would have them. The chorus of theThesmophoriazusæresent the many ill things said of the race of women,--"that we are an utter evil to men, and that all evils spring from us, strifes, quarrels, seditions, painful grief, and war. Come, now, if we are an evil, why do you marry us, if indeed we are really an evil, and forbid any of us either to go out, or to be caught peeping out, but wish to guard the evil thing with so great diligence? And if the wife should go out any whither, and you then should discover her to be out of doors, you rage with madness, who ought to offer libations and rejoice, if indeed you really find the evil thing to be gone away from the house and do not find it at home. And if we sleep in other peoples' houses, when we play and when we are tired, everyone searches for this evil thing, going round about the beds. And if we peep out of a window, everyone seeks to get a sight of the evil thing. And if we retire again, being ashamed, so much the more does everyone desire to see the evil thing peep out again. So manifestly are we much better than you." As portrayed by Aristophanes, the women of his day manifestly knew how to assert their equality. Feminine foibles and weaknesses do not escape his satiric pen. Women are overfond of dress, and no brilliant or prudent action can be expected of them,

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