Chapter I: The Secret of the Alcohol Habit 17 (3)

The Greeks learned the division of the day into twelve hours from Babylon, and Plato is said to have invented a water clock marking the hours of the night in the same way. But in ordinary life, according to the old fashion, a night and the following day were regarded as one whole and divided into seven parts. There were three for the night, one when the lamps were lit, the next the dead hours of the night, and then the dawn, when the cocks begin to crow. The day was divided into four: early morning, the forenoon, when the market place began to fill, the midday heat, and the late afternoon. As in all southern countries now-a-days, where midday is a time of sleep or idleness, so in old times the Greek rose very early, generally at the dawn of day. His ablutions were but scanty, and there is no trace of any bath in the morning. Indeed the general cleanliness of the Greeks must rather be compared with that of other modern nations than with ours. In older days the hair was worn long, and elaborately dressed, as we can see from coins, so that this must have cost some trouble. But shaving the beard did not come in as a general fashion till Alexander’s time, and even then shaving often and having very white teeth are mentioned as rather foppish.

When dressed, the Greek took a very slight meal, corresponding to the coffee now taken in Greece and elsewhere upon getting up, and merely intended to stave off hunger till late breakfast. It is said to have consisted of bread and wine. He then went to call on such friends as he wished to see on business, before they left their houses. The same fashion prevailed at Rome. When this was done, he went for a morning walk or ride, and if a townsman, to see his farms and crops, and give directions to his country steward. But if he lived in the country, he must start early to be in the city when the market place filled. For if there was important public business the assembly met very early, and in any case he there met all his friends, visited the markets and shops, and if a merchant, was practically on ’Change at this hour.

At noon all business stopped, and the public places were deserted, when he returned to his breakfast. The modern Greeks, in country parts, still spend half the day in this way before they breakfast. The poorer classes who dined early in the afternoon, and who probably had eaten something more at early breakfast, spent their midday hours, without going home, in barber’s shops, in porticoes, and other places of meeting, where they either slept or gossiped, as their fancy led them. Law-suits, at which speeches were made and evidence taken, must have been carried on during this part of the day also. The breakfast of the better classes was a substantial meal, probably serving as dinner for the children, and consisted, like the modern Greek breakfast, of hot dishes and wine. It was, however, thought luxurious to eat two heavy meals in the day, and much wine drinking before dinner was regarded with the same aversion as tippling is now-a-days. When the day became cooler, men went out again, partly to practice gymnastics, which ended in later times with a warm bath, partly to see others so occupied and talk to their friends. Toward sunset they returned home to their dinner, the principal meal of the day, and the only one at which the Greek entertained his friends. If not a very studious man, or a leading politician, he devoted the evening to conversation and music, either in his family circle, or among his friends. In the former case, he went to bed early; in the latter he was often up all night, and sometimes went from his first feast in company with his noisy friends to knock up other banqueters and enjoy their hospitality unasked. There were no clubs or public houses open at night in the old Greek towns. It should be added that the hours of meals got gradually later, as luxury advanced.

The dress of a Greek gentleman was simple both in form and color. He wore a shirt or under garment of wool called chiton, without sleeves, and drawn tight with a girdle round the waist. As luxury increased, the Athenians adopted linen instead of wool, the Ionians wore the chiton down to the feet, and sleeves were frequently added. Trousers were also considered a foreign dress. Over the chiton was thrown a large cloak shaped something like a Scotch shawl, but squarer, which was wrapped about the figure so as to have only the right shoulder and head free. This was regarded as the principal garment, for while it was not thought polite to throw it open, and a man without it, though in his chiton, was called stripped, on the other hand a man wrapped in his cloak without any under garment was thought perfectly dressed. Most of the portrait statues of celebrated men which have reached us are indeed represented in this very way. White was the full dress color for both garments, but other colors, especially various shades of red, dark blue, and green, were not unfrequently worn.

The cloak was also doubled, when men were actively employed, and fastened on the shoulder with a clasp or pin. This was done in imitation of the smaller but thicker cloaks, some of which were of semicircular shape, and borrowed from Macedonia. These were worn in war and on journeys. As to head dress, the Greeks seem to have usually gone about their cities bareheaded. In case of bad weather, they put on a fur or leather cap fitting closely to the head, and this was commonly worn by slaves. They also used in traveling, to keep off the sun’s heat, broad-brimmed felt hats, very like our “wide-awakes” in form. They were often barefooted, but also wore ornamented slippers at home, and in the streets sandals strapped with elegant thongs. In hunting or war, buskins of various kinds, reaching high on the leg, were adopted. If we add a walking stick, which up to the time of Demosthenes was even obligatory at Athens, and was always carried at Sparta, and a seal ring, we complete our picture of the Greek gentleman’s dress. In Socrates’ day a tunic cost ten drachmæ, a cloak sixteen to twenty, a pair of shoes eight. Lower class people, such as farm laborers and slaves, wore the inner garment alone, but with sleeves, or (in the country) clothed themselves in tanned skins. The general colors of a Greek crowd must have been a dull woollen white, relieved with patches of crimson and dark greens and blues.

GREEK MYTHOLOGY.

Before introducing, as is proposed, condensed excerpta from our available sources of information on Greek Mythology, it may be important for a large class of readers to define the term, and also to show some of the advantages arising from well directed mythological studies.

Mythology is a compound Greek word, meaning the science of—or, more literally, discourse respecting—myths. What is a myth? No exact definition of the word can be given, because there are many varieties of myths, and the term has been used in several distinct senses. In the New Testament it occurs five times, and is in every instance used in an evil, or severely disparaging sense. In our English version it is translated “fables,” not such as have been invented to convey and illustrate the truth, but cunningly devised fictions, used to convey ethical notions in themselves false. No such condemnation can be pronounced against the Grecian myths in general, many of which, like those of Plato, are charming figurative representations of important ideas, the splendidly imaginative embodiment of subjective truths, and, like the inimitable parables of our Lord, claim no credence for themselves, only as media for conveying the lessons taught. Such myths are not only free from any just reproach, but are commended, as a proper and effective method of teaching, analogous to allegories, fables and parables, and often found in the writings of the wisest and best of mankind. If in this way falsehood has been embellished, we may repudiate their false doctrines, though we admire the mythological dress in which they are presented.

Conscious that the best verbal definitions that can be given fail to define or precisely indicate the generally accepted character of the Grecian myth, we unconsciously multiply words and amplify their meanings, till the attempt becomes rather descriptive than definitive. Others, however acute and discerning, have had the same difficulty. In his attempt to tell us just what a myth is, Dr. McClintock says: “It is best described as a spontaneous product of the youthful imagination of mankind—the natural form under which the infant race expressed its conceptions and convictions about supernatural relations, and prehistoric events. It is neither fiction, ordinary history, nor philosophy; it is a spoken poetry, an uncritical and child-like history, a sincere and self-believing romance. It does not invent, but simply imagines and repeats; it may err, but it never lies. It is a narration, generally marvelous, which no one consciously or scientifically invents, and which every one unintentionally falsifies.” “It is,” says Mr. Grote, “the natural effusion of the unlettered, imaginative, believing man.” “It belongs to an age in which the mind was credulous, or confiding, the imagination full of vigor and vivacity, the passions earnest and intense. Its very essence consists in the projection of thought into the sphere of facts; and it arises partly from the unconscious and gradual objectizing of the subjective, or the confusing of mental processes with external realities; that is, from imaginatively attributing to external nature the feelings and qualities which exist only in the percipient soul.”

Myths, then, belong to that period of human progress in which the untaught mind regards “history as all a fairy tale.” Before the dawn of science, and the increase of knowledge by the general dissemination of books, men’s fancies respecting the past, and the uncertain conjectures of their nascent philosophy could be preserved only by these traditional and semi-poetical tales of the mythologists. To borrow the fine expression of Tacitus—_Fingunt simul creduntque_—“They at once fabricate and believe.”

“The real and the ideal,” again says Mr. Grote, “were blended together in the primitive conceptions.… The myth passed unquestioned from the fact of its currency, and its harmony with existing sentiments and preconceptions.” So to the intensity of a fresh, undisciplined imagination, and the paucity of terms in the language yet in its extreme adolescence, the origin of a vast number of myths can easily be traced. “In those early days men looked at all things with the large open eyes of childish wonderment, and much of what they saw was incapable of any other than a metaphorical description at their hands. They had no words for the purpose, and if the language had been richer it would have responded less accurately to their thoughts, since they transferred their own feelings and sentiments to the world about them, and made themselves the measure of all things.” “Thus,” says one, “the hunter regarded the moon which glanced rapidly along the clouded heavens, as a beaming goddess with her nymphs,” and

Sunbeams upon distant hills,
Gilding space with shadows in their train,
Might, with small help from fancy, be transferred
Into fleet Oreads, sporting visibly.—_Wordsworth._

Among a race of unlettered, but intellectually active, stalwart men, on whose path science shed but a dim, uncertain light, even natural phenomena so imperfectly understood, and many things in the realm of the spiritual and unseen being imaginatively conceived, and described in metaphors, myths must abound. Nor is it wonderful that those belonging to a remote prehistoric age are sometimes shrouded in a veil of impenetrable mystery.

We may not be able to reach their true meaning, since when personifications are so manifold, it is often impossible for us to tell just what was regarded as fancy and what was believed to be fact. It is worthy of remark that the same is as true of the grotesque incredible legends current among semi-barbarian tribes at the present day, as in the earliest Grecian myths. In many of them there is a substratum of facts, of which there was some rather shadowy knowledge; after some progress, and the introduction of letters among them, their guesses and imaginings that were uttered in metaphorical expressions not fully understood, are in a manner evaporated, or crystallize into dogmas that are accepted as parts of the tribal faith.

So the more ancient narratives, that are called mythological, as we will hereafter see, when collected, systematized and written by masters in the art, have a value not only as indicating the incipient, though imperfect development of the race, but in most cases, after the winnowing processes applied have driven away the chaff, some kernels of truth will remain, more than enough to repay those who mostly study them as interesting relics of a primitive society, the earnest, impassioned deliverances of nature’s children, yet unsophisticated by “philosophy falsely so called.”

We will a little further extend, and corroborate these views by another quotation from a high authority on the subject.

“Myths,” he says, “are figurative representations of events or ideas in the garb of history; they develop themselves spontaneously, and unartificially in the consciousness of a primitive people; instead of being products of design and invention, they symbolize the forces of nature under whose influence they are formed, and have an essentially religious character.”

The same authority further says: “The myth proceeds from an idea, either true or false; the legend proceeds from facts, more or less clearly apprehended, in which the idea was discovered. The one transforms poetry, religion or philosophy into history; the other modifies history with reference to conceptions of poetry, religion and philosophy.”

All persons interested in classical studies, and having given much attention to comparative philology, find in the early history of mankind an age in which words were very few—mostly names of things, and not used to express abstract ideas, or any other than those things necessary to the simplest modes of life. As words increased in number, some were introduced expressive of qualities, relations and acts. They are found variously related, phrases and brief sentences appear, the language becomes organic, and the first elements of its grammar are discovered.

In a second period, as in the Aryan and Semitic tongues, language is found advanced to a more systematic, grammatical development, and invites us to a more critical study and analysis of its forms. As yet there were neither abstract nor collective nouns, and every name designated a definite individual object. All these names of things had terminations suggestive of sex. Neuter nouns were yet unknown. Of course it was impossible for them to speak of any object, though inanimate, without ascribing to it something of an active, individual, sexual, personal character; and for this reason, if for no other, personification is a special characteristic of all languages in their earlier stages of development, and it is found to have a close correspondence with the mythical conceptions in the development of thought in those remote ages. There was then nothing prosaic in men’s thinking or speaking. Their language was a kind of unconscious poetry, every word a poem, every phrase embracing the germs of something metaphorical, or sparkling with the scintillations of some bright conceptions. Verbs, too, were strongly expressive of the mind’s various moods and emotions, and needed few auxiliaries that are employed in more abstract prose. Thus sunset was described as the sun growing old, decaying, dying; the sunrise as night giving birth to a brilliant, beautiful child. Spring was Sol greeting the happy earth with a warm embrace, and showering his treasures into the lap of nature. Rivers, fountains, grottoes, forests, mountains, rain, storm, the ocean, fire, thunder clouds and the heavenly bodies were all clothed with the attributes of living beings, and all descriptions of them were myths.

Volumes have been written, and much more might here be said explanatory of the general subject, and to remove prejudice against mythological studies as useless or misleading in their tendency.

Some well meaning persons ask how Christians who know the truth and rejoice in it can be either pleased or profited by communing with the thoughts or fancies of those on whom the sun did not shine, and who had none to lead them.

It is important for all such to distinguish the point of view in which mythological narratives were contemplated by the ancients, by mythologists themselves, and that in which we are to regard them. To them they were in many respects realities closely connected with their national history and their religious faith. To us they are unreal, but affording evidence of the little nature taught them or that was acquired by merely intellectual processes, and their evident, but often vaguely felt, need of supernatural manifestations.

Classical study and literature are regarded as so important in education, and a knowledge of Greek mythology is so obviously necessary to a full understanding of the best Greek authors, that many works have been published on the subject. The writers have either merely stated the fables as reported among the ancients, or in addition have sought to trace them to their origin, either by making conjectures of allegorical, historical and physical meanings in the stories, or deriving them from the events of the early ages, recorded in the Bible. But as these traditions themselves arose in various ways, and often accidentally, there of course must be error in every system which attempts to refer them to a common cause and purpose.

The foundation of very many of the fictions of mythology is laid in ideas that arose from the simplicity and inexperience of persons conversant only with objects of sense. Wherever an unusual fact or appearance was observed it was ascribed to a distinct being or existence, operating directly or immediately. This creation by them of personal existences out of natural phenomena, this ever ready personification of physical objects and events, was, in all probability, one of the most fruitful sources of fable and of idolatry, for which the stars and the elements seem to have furnished the most common occasion.

“One source of fable,” says an able writer, “is the _perversion_ or _alteration of facts_ in sacred history; and indeed this is its earliest and principal source. The family of Noah, perfectly instructed by him in religious matters, preserved for a considerable time the worship of the true God in all its purity. But when the members of this family were separated and scattered over different countries, diversity of language and abode was soon followed by a change of worship. Truth, which had hitherto been intrusted to the single channel of oral communication, subject to a thousand variations, and which had not yet become fixed by the use of writing, that surer guardian of facts, became obscured by an infinite number of fables which greatly increased the darkness that had enveloped it.”

The advantages of an acquaintance with mythology are many. They have been admirably shown by Rollin, from whom we quote:

1. It apprises us how much we are indebted to Jesus Christ
the Savior, who had rescued us from the power of darkness and
introduced us into the wonderful light of the Gospel. Before
his time what was the real character of men? Even the wisest
and most upright men—those celebrated philosophers, those great
politicians, those renowned legislators of Greece, those grave
senators of Rome? In a word, what were all the nations of the
world, the most polished and the most enlightened? Fable informs
us they were the blind worshipers of some demon, and bowed
the knee before gods of gold, silver and marble. They offered
incense and prayers to statues, deaf and mute. They recognized
as gods animals, reptiles, and even plants. They did not blush
to adore an adulterous Mars, a prostituted Venus, an incestuous
Juno, a Jupiter blackened by every kind of crime, and worthy for
that reason to hold the first rank among the gods. See what our
fathers were, and what we ourselves should have been, had not the
light of the Gospel dissipated our darkness! Each story in fable,
every circumstance in the life of the gods, ought at once to fill
us with confusion, admiration and gratitude.

2. Another advantage from the study of fable is that, by
discovering to us the absurd ceremonies and impious maxims of
paganism, it may inspire us with new respect for the majesty
of the Christian religion, and for the sanctity of its morals.
Ecclesiastical history informs us that a Christian bishop
(Theophilus of Alexandria), to render idolatry odious in the
minds of the faithful, brought forth to the light and exposed to
the eyes of the public, all which was found in the interior of a
temple that had been demolished; bones of men, limbs of infants
immolated to demons, and many other vestiges of the sacrilegious
worship which pagans render to their deities. This is nearly the
effect which the study of fable must produce on the mind of every
sensible person; and this is the use to which it has been put by
the holy fathers and all the defenders of the Christian religion.
The great work of St. Augustin, entitled “The City of God,” which
has conferred such honor upon the Church, is at the same time a
proof of what I now advance, and a perfect model of the manner in
which profane studies ought to be sanctified.

3. Still another benefit of great importance may be realized in
the understanding of authors either in Greek, Latin, or even
French, in reading which a person is often stopped short if
ignorant of mythology. I speak now of the poets, merely, whose
natural language is fable; it is often employed also by orators,
and it furnishes them frequently with the happiest illustrations,
and with strains the most sprightly and eloquent.

4. There is another class of works whose meaning and beauty are
illustrated by a knowledge of fable, viz., paintings, coins,
statues, and the like. These are so many enigmas to persons
ignorant of mythology, which is often the only key to their
interpretation.

TEMPERANCE TEACHINGS OF SCIENCE; OR, THE POISON PROBLEM.

BY FELIX L. OSWALD, M.D.