Skip to main content

Full text of "Studies of the Gods in Greece at certain sanctuaries recently excavated : being eight lectures given in 1890 at the Lowell Institute"

See other formats










Better stand upon the fragments of antiquity and look about ns. 

\\. S. LANUOR. 


I 891 

All rights reserved 








Plan of the Eleusinian precinct from Proceedings of R. I. B. A. 

to face page 198 

Outline-sketch of the ground-plan of the Hall of Ictinus . . 202 

Plan of the temple at Old Paphos from the J. H. S. to face page 310 



Latter-day paganism Greek sanctuaries Powers of Greek gods 
Roman organisation The kingdom of Earth The Roman order 
Greek individualism Greek religious thinkers Anomalies of 
Greek religion Apollo at Delphi Parnassus Pater, Mannhardt, 
and Preller Sanctions of Apollo s power Apollo s temple at 
Delphi Delphian worship The coming of Apollo . Pages 1-36 

APPENDIX I The deification of Roman emperors . . 37 45 


The home goddess of grain Two Homeric otherworlds The goddess 
of enough and to spare The hallowed fruits of Demeter The 
Homeric Hymn to Demeter The wedlock of Persephone The 
Iliad and the Odyssean stories The Eleusinian legend of Demeter 
Interlopers in the story Celeus and Demophoon Woman s 
love for woman Demeter s love for Persephone Demeter s rules 
for right living Demeter of Cnidus .... 46-74 



The crazed god of Homer Contradictions of Dionysus Probations of 
Athenian Dionysus Thracian birth-marks of Dionysus Asiatic 
Thracians Brumalia and Rosalia Modern May-day festivals 
The angel of the darker drink Elements of wine, fire, water, gold 
Dionysus- Silenus the water man Bassarids, Satyrs, Corybantes, 
Curetes The savage Pan or Aegipan Dionysus Omestes Dionysus 
and the Muses The Icarian legend Icarius entertains the god 
The shepherds slay Icarius Legends parallel to Icarian story 
Winter festivals on Parnassus Susarion and Thespis at Icaria 
First tragedies at Icaria Pages 75-117 

APPENDIX II Dionysus Eleuthereus .... 118-120 



Epimenides of Crete The Pisistratidae and Dionysus Onomacritus and 
Orphic myth-making Epimenides, Pisistratus, and Onomacritus 
Reformed Athenian festivals The people s faith in Dionysus The 
greater Dionysia The Bacchanals of Euripides Messianic vision 
of Euripides Analysis of the introduction Entrance-song of the 
Bacchanals Central acts and conclusion First great act The pro 
bation of Pentheus Pentheus is deaf to reason The second great act 
The sin of Pentheus Captive good attending captain ill The 
perdition of Pentheus Cadmus cures Agave s madness 121-163 

APPENDIX III Second birth of Dionysus his eastern affinities 163-173 



The coming of Dionysus to Eleusis The all -welcoming Demeter 
Xenophanes and Heraclitus The holy silence of Eleusis Dionysus 
an enhancement of Demeter The pitiless huntsman Zagreus 


Description of Eleusis The only church of antiquity Eleusis 
fortified in early days The present condition of Eleusis The 
Plutonian precinct The Hall of Initiation Halls of Pisistratus, 
Cimon, Ictinus Cyclopean traces Roman restorations The 
Hall of Ictinus The portion of Hades Greater and Lesser 
Mysteries The Greater Mysteries Yearly procession of the Mystae 
The Frogs of Aristophanes The measure led by the Fates 
Stations of the yearly pilgrimage . . . . Pages 174-218 



The god Aesculapius from the north Hippocrates and Democedes 
The Coan sanctuary The medicine of Homeric days The debt 
of Democedes to Homer The schooling of Aesculapius Early 
history of Greek medicine Mind and body Harmony of religion 
and science Aesculapius a friend of man The son of Apollo 
The Hieron of Epidaurus Finding of the infant god A precinct 
of Aesculapius The statue of ivory and gold The Tholos of 
Polycletus The painting of Pausias Apollonius the intercessor 


APPENDIX IV Apollonius of Tyana .... 257-266 
APPENDIX V The status of modern Greek doctors . . 267-269 


Aphrodite at Greek sanctuaries - Eastern characteristics Three 
regions of Cyprus Meeting ground of East and West No 
Cypriote nationality Phoenicians in Cyprus Lack of Greek 
monuments Agapenor at Paphos and in Arcadia Aphrodite 
always Paphian From Limassol to Paphos Cinyras of Paphos 
The ubiquity of Cinyras The temple on the hill Aphrodite s 
birth at Paphos The Greek Aphrodite The Roman and Assyrian 
goddess Aphrodite and Demeter , 270-304 


APPENDIX VI The temple at Old Paphos . . Pages 305-314 
APPENDIX VII Aphrodite of the Greeks, Hittites, and 

Phoenicians 3 : 5-3 2 3 

APPENDIX VIII The Olympus and the Bocarus in Cyprus 
Hettore Podocatharo and John 
Meursius 3 2 4 354 


Delian nativity of Apollo and Artemis Delos a wandering island 
The consecration of Rhenea The exile of the Delians Archi- 
lochus the poet of the Aegean Apollo a King Arthur of the Greeks 
Apollo and Cyrene Self-discipline of Apollo The lonians at 
Delos Vicissitudes of Delian festivals From Athens to Delos 
The procession of Nicias The earliest Delian festival The temple 
and image of Leto The Cynthian cave -temple Latter-day 
worshippers at Delos The inheritance of Delos . . 355 -390 

APPENDIX IX The Cyclades and Sporades . . . 391-398 
APPENDIX X The worship of Aphrodite and of strange 

gods at Delos 399-43 

APPENDIX XI Photographs referred to for illustrations . 404-413 

INDICES 414-457 


ADEQUATELY to thank all whose help has been 
lavished upon tJie preparation of these pages is not 
possible. Although I can give no catalogue of the 
names of benefactors, my gratitude is sincere ; and 
this expression of it will, I Jiope, reach them in Greece, 
in France, in Italy, in England, and in America. It 
is but fair, however, to say that constant criticism and 
suggestion from my wife helped the present work to 
its shape, and I cannot silence the particular expres 
sion of my thanks to Professor Middleton of King s 
College, Cambridge, and Professor Ker of University 
College, London, for invaluable aid given most un 
grudgingly during the final revision. 

Originally prepared as lectures for the Lowell 
Institute, the eight chapters here given are printed 


with corrections and notes, the fruit of a years 
deliberation. As lectures they were repeated before 
various Universities, Colleges, and Societies in various 
parts of the United States. A lecture on the Cyclades, 
given before Columbia University, forms the basis of 
one of the Appendices which, although some of them 
are unavoidably technical, have seemed necessary to the 
more or less connected presentation of Greek religious 

thought here attempted. 



OXFORD, April 1891. 



I DO not mean to attempt an account of all the Greek 
gods ; eight studies would be insufficient, even if my investi 
gations had already carried me over the whole ground, 
which is a vast one. I propose in the first place to say 
what I can of Demeter and Persephone, the two great 
goddesses of Eleusis in Attica. Here it will be necessary to 
consider excavations in Asia Minor made some years ago 
by Sir Charles Newton, 1 as well as the now practically 
completed diggings of the Greek Archaeological Society at 
Eleusis. 2 In the second place, the god Dionysus also 
worshipped at Eleusis will be considered, and his early 
cult in Attica will receive illustration from recent excava 
tions made by the American School of Athens. 3 The 

1 A History of Discoveries at Halicarnassus, Cnidus, Branchidae. By 
C. T. N., assisted by R. P. Pullan. London, 1862, folio and 8vo. 

2 See the various publications of the Greek Archaeological Society, 
particularly the plan, by Dr. Dorpfeld, of the Eleusinian Temple in the 
Praktika of 1885, and ibid. Dr. Philios s description, as well as his subse 
quent reports on inscriptions and discoveries at Eleusis. Dr. Dorpfeld has 
kindly allowed a reproduction of his plan to appear below in the chapter 
on "The Gods at Eleusis," p. 202. 

3 See the Seventh Annual Report of the American School at Athens in 
the American Journal of Archaeology for 1889, and cf. the Nation of 
22d March 1888. 




third topic will be Aesculapius and his worship, more par 
ticularly at Athens and at Epidaurus, as known through 
excavations in both places. 1 Fourthly, a consideration of 
Aphrodite and her worship at Old Paphos will occupy the 
seventh of my chapters, which will to a large extent be 
devoted to the problems which have been raised by the 
recent excavations of the British School at Couclia in 
Cyprus. 2 My eighth and last chapter will be given to the 
holy island of Delos, and to Delian Apollo. The French 
School of Athens, chiefly under the able direction of 
M. Homolle, has uncovered and discovered of late years 
all manner of facts about Delos and Delian Apollo; 3 and 
with these I shall end my studies of five of the greater 
gods of Greece as worshipped in their recently discovered 

As there are shrines of healing and sanctuaries of especial 
salvation dedicated to immemorial worship by the medieval 
world of Christendom, so also in the Hellenic world (much 
larger, alas ! than modern Greece) there were places about 
which lingered through many centuries a dread and most 
religious sanctity, a helpful significance. Of such spots 
in Greece, in Cyprus, in Asia Minor, and of the gods 
whose presence and whose help was sought in those 
holy places, I am to speak. I am to speak of several 
sites lately investigated where the beautiful and enno 
bling religion, first of Greece, and then through Greece 

1 Paul Girard, L AscUpieion d Athenes, d aprh de recentes dtcouvertes , 
Paris, 1881. For discoveries at Epidaurus see in the publications of the 
Greek Archaeological Society various reports by M. Kabbadias. 

2 See the Journal of Hellenic Studies for 1889. 

3 See Professor Jebb s article "Delos" in the first number of the 
Journal of Hellenic Studies also M. J. Albert Lebegue s Recherches sur 
Delos t Paris, 1876, 8vo, and the publications of the French School at 
Athens, particularly reports of Delian excavations by M. Homolle in the 
Bulletin de Correspondance HelUnique. 


and Rome of all the ancient world, had its growth; of 
sanctuaries where that old-time worship of ideals, by some 
miscalled idolatry, grew pure and yet more pure, broad 
and broader still, until its inner significance and truth 
were no longer to be confined within old forms, could be 
fettered no longer by old bonds ; and lo ! Christianity 
was there to gather in a heritage of high-born thoughts from 

In the latter days of paganism there was a two-fold 
process by which the world was prepared for the dawning 
of an endless hope, the "dayspring from on high." There 
was amelioration and purification, as well as a growing 
superstition and gradual decay. No less distinguished 
an authority than Professor Jebb 1 has said of latter-day 
Greek religion : 

" The Greeks were a people peculiarly sensitive to every 
thing that was in the intellectual air of the time, and there 
was. much in it that helped Christianity . . . there was a 
tendency to take refuge from polytheism in deism ; and in 
particular there was a spreading belief, half-mystic, in the 
resurrection of the body, a belief which drew many 
votaries to the worship of the Egyptian Serapis, and was in 
turn strengthened by that cult." 

It has unfortunately been habitual, but less so in these 
latter days of religious tolerance, to accept without question 
the estimate of paganism made in the heat of conflict by 
the early fathers of the Christian Church. What those 
great and good men strove to do has been in the fullest 
measure accomplished. Christianity has prevailed, and the 
tanglewood of ancient mythology, the thickets of ancient 

1 Modern .Greece, two lectures delivered before the Philosophical Institu 
tion of Edinburgh by R. C. Jebb. 


ritual, have receded from the broadening pathway of our 
race. But yet the distant view of it remains, its influence 
is real to-day though more remote. Indeed the purer 
aspects of Greek ritual and Greek mythology have a 
counterpart in the most holy Christian places. Surely 
there is no lack of real Christian piety in feeling, as it were, 
a reminiscence or a glorified survival of the ancient worship 
of Dionysus and Demeter at the altar where the bread and 
wine are given. It was no fanciful parallel which the 
Christian author of Christus Pattens drew 1 between the 
yearly passion and yearly resurrection of Dionysus in 
ancient ritual and that passion and resurrection which 
Christians yearly celebrate to-day. 

Consider how much or shall it rather be said how 
li tt l e ?_the ideal equality of all sorts and conditions of men 
in the presence of God is to-day maintained by Christian 
ritual and regulation. And consider then what new impulse 
might perhaps be gained from a careful study of the worship 
of Aesculapius, of Dionysus, or from a reverential under 
standing of the Eleusinian mysteries of Demeter. In 
spring, at the high festival of Dionysus birthday, one of 
the marked features in the celebration was a free wel 
come, extended more than in words, to slaves and day- 
labourers. 2 First, sacrifices were made with solemnity, 

1 The parallel is drawn by unmistakable implication, since lines from 
the Bacchanals of Euripides are freely applied to the suffering Christ, 
line 1344 of the Bacchanals, e.g., "Dionysus, we are thy suppliants, we 
have sinned," becomes " O Redeemer! we are," etc. The authorship of 
Christ Sii/ering was long bestowed on Saint Gregory of Nazianzum, 
surnamed the Theologian. It is now given to some unknown person 
belonging to a later day of the Church, when the worship of the Virgin 
Mary had taken the more definite shape implied by various passages in 
the poem. 

2 The rural origin of the festival was especially marked by this temporary 
obliteration of differences in station. See in Hutchinson s Northumberland, 


and then all alike were invited to come to the banquet of 
the god, and partake of his freshly opened wine. So also 
it was with the bread of Demeter. All manner of people 
were free to come, and be initiated at her Eleusinian 
sanctuary, excepting only those polluted in some incurable 
manner, as who should say, those who had committed the 
sin against the Holy Ghost. 

Christianity as we know it, Christianity as we prize it, is 
not solely and exclusively a gift from Israel. It is time to 
open our eyes and see the facts new and old that stare us 
in the face, growing more clear the more investigations and 
excavations on Greek soil proceed. To the religion of 
Greece and Rome, to the Eleusinian mysteries, to the 
worship of Aesculapius and Apollo, to the adoration of 
Aphrodite is due more of the fulness and comforting 
power of the Church to-day than many of her leaders have 
as yet been willing to allow. 

The sanctuaries of Demeter at Eleusis and Cnidus, the 
Icarian demesne of Dionysus, whither he came to meet his 
earliest Attic worshippers ; the Delian shrine of Apollo, and 
the temples of his son, the healer Aesculapius, at Athens 
and at Epidaurus, these and the Paphian precinct of 
sweetly smiling Aphrodite should be well known to him 
who seeks understanding of that beautiful religion whose 
fifth essence and nobler quality has passed into our own. 
Indeed it is universally true that to understand any religion 
you must in some sense come under the spell of its 
sanctuaries, in some way you must visit its holy places. 

vol. ii. end, the account of " Mell Supper": "The servants having per 
formed the most valuable part of their labour, are entertained by their 
masters, when all distinction is laid aside. This feast is called the Mell 
Supper, at which there are dancing, masquing, and disguising, and all other 
kinds of rural mirth." 


This has been most beautifully set forth in the most recent 
work l of a writer whose every utterance on the history of 
beliefs brings the greatest help. Speaking of the " Creed 
of Heathen Germany/ and of gods very different from those 
of Greece, but resembling them in that they too had a part 
in the shaping of Christianity, Mr. Keary most poetically 
and truly says : 

" If in these days we wish to feel the mystic presence of 
the great god of the Germans, we must do as our worship 
ping forefathers did, withdraw from the concourse of men, 
find out some forest solitude, and wait there. Let it be, if 
you will, in one of the great stretches of woodland which are 
to be found in East and West Prussia; or, better still 
nowadays, go to the vast primeval forests which lie upon 
the upper slopes of the Scandinavian peninsula, far away 
from the fjords and the too frequent steps of tourists. There 
you will feel, as you should, the strange and awful stillness 
which from time to time reigns in pine forests such as these. 
Presently the quiet is broken, first by a sigh, which arises as 
from the ground itself, and breathes throughout the wood. 
Anon, from a distance a sound is heard so like the sound 
of the sea that you might swear (had you never been in such 
a wood before) that you could hear the waves drawing 
backwards over a pebbly beach. As it approaches the 
sound grows into a roar ; it is the roar of the tempest, the 
coming of Wodin." 

1 The Vikings in Western Christendom, by C. F. Keary, M.A., F.S.A. 
T. Fisher Unwin, 1891. 

2 To quote this passage without Mr. Keary s justification of it would 
not be a great harm, since it bears witness in a great measure to its own 
truth, but what Mr. Keary says seems to me of a very universal import 
ance, and to bear upon the right treatment of Greek as well as of German 
mythology. Speaking of his own account of Wodin in the forest, he says : 
It will be said by some that this description is purely imaginary. I 


It is indeed a privilege newly and exclusively granted to 
the highest moods and broadest minds of to-day, this 
enlightened tolerance, this "genial catholicity of apprecia 
tion," which finds even in paganism a message from the 
only and the everlasting God. Now at last, thanks to the 
painstaking work which truly scientific men have done in 
archaeology, we are receiving something of the legacy be 
queathed us by those who lived and loved and prayed of 
old in Athens and in Rome. Now at last we may feel, with 
no petty wish to carp or cavil, the sacredness of ancient 
sanctuaries, and know them for ever consecrated to "the 
sessions of sweet silent thought," where we summon up not 
only " remembrance of things past," but also much of the 
sweet usage and workaday reality in things now present for 
our spiritual aid. 

Let this new privilege console somewhat the praisers of 
the past, for it makes up for and takes the place of much 
that modern men have lost. Let malcontents consider 
in this new-dawned light of tolerance the early worship of 
both Greece and Rome, and then they may forget to 
remember how their lots and their lives are cast into a 
world so filled with quantity, so choked and crammed to 
bursting with millions whether of men or money, that 
quality seems lost, or even to be, when rarely found, 

make a distinction between what is imaginative and what is imaginary. If 
you choose not to go into the study of mythology or of beliefs of any kind 
until you have first stripped yourself of your imagination, you will travel 
indeed lightly burdened, and you will arrive at strange results. Because, 
as belief of all kinds is born of the imagination, and Aberglaube is, as 
Goethe says, the poetry of life, you will have taken the precaution of going 
into the dark unprovided with a lantern. To avoid doing this you are not 
obliged, however, to give free rein to your fancy. Nor have we done so here." 
I have taken the liveliest interest in seeing how near to my own point 
of view Mr. Keary arrived, and how the idea of studying the Pagan 
religion in its sanctuaries had presented itself to him in another part of the 


neglected and misprized. Let us then exhort the pessimists 
of this, the golden hour of the broadest and most real 
Christianity that truest consecration of democracy to 
look not backward but upward, and discern in the broad 
humanity and strength, and above all in the toleration l of 
latter-day religion, a gleam from Olympus of the Greeks. 
Their religion, so far as it was true, still lives and shines in 
the light of to-day. In the high types of excellence and 
beauty which Greek religion created, and Roman practice 
made more all-embracing and enduring, there is manifested 
a mercy whose overruling providence leads us towards the 

Indeed the quality of Greek divinities is that of mercy. 
Demeter s love is faithful, although the heavens seem to fall, 
and though earth withholds all comfort for a time ; her 
chastened joy (when at last it comes) is divinely pure and 
gracious in the fulness of its perfect peace. Apollo, that 
most truly Greek of all divinities, is a gloriously dazzling 
exemplar of purity and light. He, the sun-god, is mirrored 
like the sun from a thousand angles of refraction. Understand 
this god, and straightway his image, shaped this way or that 
by accident, or even distorted by some chance, will be always 

1 It is a fact well known that regular offerings were made on behalf of 
Augustus at the Temple in Jerusalem. This was but one of many small 
practices which grew out of the Theocrasia or commingling of gods, a 
result of that all-embracing toleration which led Greeks and Romans 
alike to treat as their own the gods of other nations. See the opening 
plea in the Octavius of Quintus Minucius Felix, p. 6 B-E. It was a pious 
duty for travellers in remote parts of the empire to sacrifice to the local 
gods wherever they went. When the absolute antagonism between 
paganism and Christianity brought persecution to pass, there was still a 
lack of thoroughgoing intolerance as compared with that of the Inquisition. 
A comparison of the numbers put to death by Roman and Spanish 
intolerance respectively establishes this fact. See Friedlaender, Dar- 
stellungen aus der Sittengeschichte Rom s in der Zeit von Augztst bis zum 
Ausgang der Antonine, iii. p. 586. 


returning to your wandering eye from every corner and 
surface of Greek story and Greek song. Achilles had the 
swiftness and the pure white heat that make Apollo known, 1 
and that nobly moulded youth, who bursts, divine in 
righteous anger, on our view upon the western pediment of 
the temple of great Zeus, 2 is a very incarnation of the power 
of Apollo. Whether he be Apollo, or, as some think, 
Pirithous, 3 the act of quenching lust and foiling brutal 
crime is most pure 4 Apollo s own. 

Dionysus, the dread, the deep, the darkly irresistible, a 
god of mystery and of intensity, the all-possessor of men, 
and even of beasts and things upborne by onrush and inrush 
of his power Dionysus lives on to-day in the fairy-land of 
poetry, mirrored by the motley throng of Orpheus tales and 
songs of wine and stones of overpowering inspirations. All 
and each of the greater Greek gods still live their charmed 
life, and even to-day each one in some sense is the centre 
of a scheme of things, a universe all his own. 

There was, in fact, little or no thought in early Greece of 
how one god s power might be made compatible with that 
attributed to and exercised by another. Each Greek state 
was, according to Greek theory, absolutely independent of 
all and every other. Therefore it was not unnatural for 
Greeks to think of each one of their great divinities as in 
some sense partaking of an absolute independence. Each 
great god had been worshipped, no doubt, at some time, 

1 For some admirable remarks on this parallelism, which scarcely needs 
to be pointed out, see Keary s Outlines of Primitive Belief, p. 192 : "Each 
is the ideal youth, the representative, one might fairly say, of young 
Greece, that which was to become in after years Hellas." 

2 See Appendix XI. i. 141 and 143. 

3 Pausanias, V. x. 8. 

4 For Apollo as the god of purity see the last chapter below on Apollo 
at Delos. 



somewhere in broad and various Hellas, as the supreme 
arbiter of destiny, the wielder of all power, and the hearer 
of all prayer. Thus we have glimpses of an earliest time l 
when Greek religion was, if the word be insisted upon, 
monotheistic. At each centre of political life it would seem 
that men worshipped a god whose omnipotence was bounded 
by the boundaries of that particular state. The difference 
in relative importance noticeable between the gods con 
nects itself with the history of the chief place of this 
and that god s worship. A certain early importance in 
matters religious belonged to Dodona for instance, and the 
national character borne in later days by the festival of 
Olympian Zeus was partly the cause and not wholly the 
effect of the kingship attributed by universal consent to Zeus 
among the great gods on Olympus as well as at Olympia. 

Judge Greek religion not by all its moods, but by all its 
highest and most characteristic ones. Avoid as you would 
the very spirit of untruth a judgment of Greek political and 
religious ideas, founded on notions of politics and religion 
that only came into being in modern times, and then you 
will say that Greek religion was a polytheism where each of 
many great gods was potentially the one and only god for 
every Greek, but actually and more particularly in one place 
and for one people of Greece. The Greek religion of poly 
theism was more monotheistic than monotheism itself, for 
the Greeks were not content with one only God Almighty 
and Supreme, they had and they worshipped many such. 2 

1 Of this earliest day we can have only glimpses, and it must be to a 
large extent ideal, as retrospects of the kind always are. In reality many 
disturbing causes came in, such as the relics of an utterly barbarous phase 
of religion and a certain compatibility between local all-importance and 
ideal subordination in a rough scheme of the religious world, such as a 
peasant s mind could form. 

2 Lehrs (Populdre Aufsdfze, p. 130) expresses substantially the same 


The truth which this paradox contains is shown by the 
course of Greek political history a stream which ran 
curiously and closely parallel to that of Greek religion. The 
whole range and expanse of ancient Greek life were requisite 
before the Greeks could win from struggles and adversity 
the lesson of political subordination and national unity. 
While this life-giving knowledge was most vivacious within 
it, the mind of Greece was merged with its territory in the 
body politic of Rome, and Rome was livened for her task 
by Grecian wit. 1 Indeed, humanity has possessed the 
power of potent organisation and broader growth only since 
the day when Hellas died as a separate political power, 
conscious at last, though late, that captious independence 
overstrained had brought destruction in its train. Rome 
imperial Rome showed forth most plain the moral of 
Hellenic failure, and Roman success made way for the con 
ception of something higher even than political organisation 
of the broadest kind. After and because of the heathen 
empire came the Holy Empire which crowned all others, 
the empire of the universal Church. 

At Marathon and Plataea, Greece defeated the patriarchal 
order of politics and religion. There was a moment of 
universal history when the clan was succeeded by the com 
monwealth, when the spirit of humankind required new 
room for growth, more room than the oriental polity of 

idea by drawing a distinction which eludes translation. "The Greek," 
he says, could perfectly well apprehend (begreifen) one sole God, but 
his mental requirements and endowments were utterly averse to any real 
comprehension (ergreifen). He always fell short of a realising sense, and 
accordingly never lived up to, never acted out the idea." 

1 The Roman conquest of Greece was a welcome event to the 
mass of the European Greeks. The popular sentiment at the time 
was expressed by a parody of the saying attributed to Themistocles in 
exile to the effect that his ruin had made his fortune." Jebb s Modern 
Greece, p. 3. 


Persia could afford it. To the old Persian order succeeded 
the new era of Greece and Rome. 

Sir Alfred Lyall, in his Asiatic Studies^ most acutely says 
that Greece invented " political . citizenship, and rules of 
conduct under State sanction. Between the clans and the 
commonwealths the difference is not so much between law 
lessness and free institutions as between the primitive man, 
whose social and political customs are as much a part of 
his species as the inherited habit of an animal, and the 
highly civilised man who consciously chooses his own 
laws and form of government according to expediency and 
logic." The props of tribe and caste were dispensed with, 
that the wider and freer political organisation of our day 
might come into being. For the evolution of so vast a 
system the ground had first of all to be cleared. This took 
place before the battle of Marathon, on the very restricted 
scale which Greece allowed, but not to the same extent 
everywhere in Greece. The Spartan institutions of Lycurgus 
(so far as we can know them) are a curious crystallisation of 
primitive, social, and political habits, hardly in advance of 
what to-day excites wonder and defies a casual comprehen 
sion in India and Central Asia. Athens, the typically free, 
the truly modern Greek state, had her triumph at Marathon, 
Salamis, and Plataea. For a time this new way of living 
required a very restricted sphere of action, these new states 
had to be small. Independence rather than interdepend 
ence was the watchword of this dawning period. The 
time was not yet come for federations or confederations, 
and hence the Athenian Confederacy failed. Years and 
years of political experience had to be gathered in by 
Athenians and by Romans before a solidly constituted state 
of this new type became possible on a large scale. 


To those who cannot see how different in kind from 
anything known before was the small Greek Polis, it must 
seem that the Greek world was far more hopelessly split up 
after the Peloponnesian war than it had been in the days of 
Homeric song. In politics the new principle made coali 
tion impossible, and in religion it left to local divinities 
their old-time omnipotence. The loose and unsettled 
organisation of the government in heaven by Zeus was 
still what Homer had made it. 

But this was only for a time. When at last the world 
from which we spring, and of whose life we are, had been 
qualified for wider things, and had outgrown Greek indi 
vidualism, then Greece had grown into Rome, and had 
allied itself with that spirit of subordination and self-dis 
cipline by which alone the Romans conquered all mankind. 
Imperial Rome at its best has seemed a realisation of Plato s 
dream, a state where philosophers were kings and kings were 
philosophers. This was truly the kingdom of Heaven upon 
earth, and a comparison forced itself upon religious minds 
between the perfect union and solidarity of all functionaries 
of the empire and that loose government of the spiritual 
world on Olympus which tradition ascribed to Zeus. 
According to these latter-day notions the power of Zeus 
over his fellow-gods and subjects was contemptibly small 
and precarious. A desire asserted itself gradually that the 
kingdom of earth should arrive in the heavens. 1 The 

1 This desire showed itself very vigorously even in the lifetime of 
Augustus, having already found expression under Julius Caesar in a very 
extreme form. Professor Merriam (see the next note) has gathered 
most interesting proofs. See also Giacomo Lumbroso, L Egitto al tempo 
dei Greci e del Romani. Both of these writers correct the errors of 
Mommsen, who maintains that the Caesareum at Alexandria was dedicated 
to Caesar Appulsor. This epithet is a mistranslation ; the real equivalent of 
is the deity to whom the ^Tri/SaTijpta sacrifices at embarkation 


Roman emperors were deified, inter atia, as the represen 
tatives of a more logically ordered scheme of things than 
that presented by the poetical figures that ruled Olympus. 
Nowhere was this new hierarchy of the heavens more 
sedulously cultivated than by the Greek members of the 
Roman Empire. Zeal for this new worship has earned for 
Greece much slander from unreflecting persons. Servility 
and base flattery are attributed to men who really were 
following in the footsteps of their forefathers, and seeking 
an organised religion which their poetical traditions could not 
give, though it did suggest the lack of it. Indeed Zeus or 

and disembarkation were made, who rules and protects all sailors. For 
this aspect of Imperial divinity see Virgil, Georgics, i. 29-31, and Propertius, 
iii. ii, 71. Apollo and Zeus were the two other divinities, beside Poseidon, 
with whom Augustus was identified. Professor Merriam s array of in 
scriptions is particularly interesting. Philo Judaeus, Legatio ad Caium, 
describes Augustus as the source of worshipful majesty to his successors, 
the defender from evil ( AXet /caKos). The entire habitable world decreed 
honours to him co-equal with those of the Olympian gods." Caesar (eTTi- 
/for7?pioy) at Alexandria (navigantium praeses] was, as the same Philo de 
scribes him, " the saving hope of all who weigh anchor or enter within its 
(the harbour s) shelter." The seriousness of Alexandrine sailors in this con 
ception of the divinity ot Augustus (the Caesareum of Alexandria was not, 
as Mommsen says, for the worship of Julius but for that of Augustus Caesar) 
is picturesquely shown in chapter xcviii. of Suetonius Life. Catilius placed 
at Egyptian Philae a dedication to Caesar ruler of the sea, a mighty Zeus 
swaying limitless regions, son of Zeus (Caesar) the Deliverer . . . star of 
all Hellas that rose as a mighty Zeus the Saviour." At the temple of Isis 
at Tenbyris in the year i A.D. , Octavius, of the emperor s own gens, styles 
Augustus Zeus Eleutherios. At Herod s Caesarea-by-the-sea Augustus was 
worshipped under the aspect of the well-known statue of Zeus at Olympia. 
The Athenian temple of Olympian Zeus was finally dedicated to the 
genius Augusti. Of Augustus worshipped under the guise of Apollo Dr. 
Merriam gives many instances ; his Egyptian style is, autocrator Caesar, 
son of the Sun, King of Upper and Lower Egypt." Moreover, upon two 
Demotic stelae (in the British Museum) from Memphis are interesting 
records of two brothers who were priests. One of them died, and his 
brother was appointed in his place by Augustus in the first year of the 
god, the son of the god, the great foreign god Caesar autocrator"; and, 
furthermore, he was made " Prophet of Caesar." Inscriptions exist dated 
during Augustus s lifetime (qualifying him in spite of his prohibition as a 
god) from Apamea (C. /. G. 3525), Lesbos, Delos. 


Jupiter could not very long remain the emperor of Olympus 
when once the deifications of Roman emperors had accus 
tomed men to think of the ordered rule of heaven as a 
counterpart in some way of the ordered and most plainly 
organised rule on earth. 1 

This impulse to sanctify the secular arm of government 
marked the reigns of many Roman princes, and made all good 
emperors, and some even whose vices earned the scorn of those 
near by, the idols of the provinces. Hence arose that consecra 
tion of a universal headship covering all affairs, both spiritual 
and temporal, which has survived in the Roman Church and 
in the Russian part of what to-day still bears the title of 
the Greek Church. This glorification of imperial attributes 
at Rome helped to undermine men s faith in the established 
Greco -Roman religion. Each of the careless gods on 
Greek Olympus trenched too palpably upon the pperogatives 
of various of his fellows. There was no loophole of escape 
for the ingenuity even of Roman jurisprudence. Zeus had 
too many affinities with Dionysus, who resembled Apollo in 
his powers and Aesculapius in his story. Apollo the healer 
was more than Aesculapius father, he often seemed to be 
all there was of the godhead of Aesculapius. Was Apollo 
the god and Aesculapius but a man ? But then what 
became of the miracles and divine pretensions of the latter ? 
How came both Dionysus and Aesculapius to birth by the 

1 Appendix I. below deals with the deification of the emperors (see 
Horace, Od. i. 2, and elsewhere), and on the general subject read Gaston 
Boissier, " La religion romaine d Auguste aux Antonins," and also consult 
A. E. Egger, Examen critique des historiens anciens de la vie et du regne 
d Auguste." An interesting account of The Caesareum and the worship of 
Augustus at Alexandria by Professor A. C. Merriam will be found in the 
"Transactions of the Am. Philological Association for 1883." The con 
clusions in this paper are the more interesting because arrived at without 
any knowledge of Boissier s views. They confirm the view taken in this 
lecture and its Appendix. 


same miraculous and premature intervention of fire ? These 
perplexities and others remained unanswered even by the 
clumsy hocus-pocus of venal priests, or the more disinterested 
but equally unconvincing lucubrations of Orphic brother 
hoods. Hence arose a want unsatisfied and universal ; from 
the natural evolution of political and religious life in an 
tiquity arose a cry to which then came the answer of 
Christianity : Illimitable hope has new made heaven and earth^ 
and order has supplanted shapeless and unseemly riot in the 
spiritual realms through which we have true life. Universal 
Christianity was called into being to meet the new and 
Roman order of things where organisation was everything. 
Then the turbulence of Greek individualism had to keep 
the peace or cease to be. 

The religion of Greece as such was guiltless of system and 
wholly devoid of method. It may be compared to a way 
ward prayer poetically prayed, according to the whimsies of 
many daring flights of devotional ecstasy, 1 and not to a scheme 
of the ordered universe so reasoned out and so systematised 
that it could be written down in creeds or expressed in 
articles. But now arises the question, How could worship 
or prayer of any kind be possible unless there was some 
definite understanding of the powers and provinces of 
various gods ? This is really the same question of which 
we tried to dispose a moment since. We are forced to ask 
it in this day of clear-cut creeds because of all the history 
of religious ideas between us and early Greece. This 
question, however, no really Greek -minded person could 

1 We can reason out the growth of a belief ; for looked at over a wide 
area and followed through a sufficient period of time, every belief has a 
kind of reason and a kind of reality. But to each individual in his brief 
span of life it is like the wind ; he cannot tell whence it cometh or whither 
it goeth." Keary, The Vikings, p. 59. 


have understood, let alone answering it. Indeed the 
possibility of maintaining the old ritual and of worshipping 
the old divinities depended somewhat upon the im 
possibility of asking this question. From this it is evident 
that in considering the past, and more especially in dealing 
with a bygone religion, we must perform the feat of leaving 
out our own peculiar selves, and all the ready-made ideas 
with which our minds have been upholstered. This 
involves a scrupulous self-examination, and brings before 
us again the old first law of Delphian Apollo know 
thyself. Think yourself away, if it were possible, from 
all this workaday world of business, with its majority 
whose thinking is more or less at second hand borrowed 
from tradition or echoed from great leaders lips think 
that you have neither heard nor dreamed of a large state 
solidly organised as we know states to-day. Think of a 
condition of mind where the management of a large railway 
would be deemed impossible ; where the notion of policing 
a town of half a million had not dawned, and the thought 
had not entered in of combining large states into one 
political aggregate otherwise than by the lash of an over 
powering master, of the Great King, as the Greeks in their 
most independent days named under their breath the ruler 
of Persia. 

Incapable as the Greeks were even of the Persian 
counterfeit of political organisation, they never raised nice 
questions in theology about the prerogatives of their gods. 
Apollo, Dionysus, Zeus, Demeter, and many others were 
coexistent and all-powerful, yet there was room for the 
new divinities that came from Egypt and the East. The 
abstract question of subordination among the gods did not 
dawn even upon the greatest and most far-reaching minds 



of Greece. Many and subtle are Plato s arguments about 
the gods. Difficulties springing from the various and 
often discreditable tales told about them crowd upon his 
truly pious mind ; but he is never distracted by the desire 
to fix exact limits of power for each. Plato, Pindar, and 
Euripides, Greek minds which were especially pre-occupied 
by religious problems, devoted their efforts in this direction 
to disentangling the wisdom and omnipotent strength of God 
from the follies and frailties of man, as well as from the 
more than human infirmities attributed to ancient gods in 
old-time stories. To vindicate the poetic purity and truth of 
Apollo, to show forth the uncalculating and tragical intensity 
of Dionysus, was their chosen task, a far more important 
one at that time than the elaborating of a heavenly hierarchy 
or the formulation of a creed. All divinities, says Plato, 
are false if they are not spotless and free from imputations 
of falsehood; in his perfect commonwealth the poets 
shall be forbidden to sing of gods who can be bribed 
like unjust men. With similar intent Pindar piously 
remoulds the story of the house of Tantalus, since it is 
unlawful to attribute evil to the gods ; while almost every 
page of Euripides bears the impress of a conflict in men s 
minds between the noblest ideal conception of godhead 
and the popular stories and superstitions concerning the 

The Greek poets and philosophers are among our 
intellectual progenitors, and therefore the religion of to 
day has requirements which include all that the noblest 
Greek could dream of requirements which the aspirations 
of Israel alone could not satisfy. Our complex life had 
need not only of a supreme god of power, universal and 
irresistible, of a jealous god beside whom there was no 


other god, but also of a god of love and grace and 
purity. To these ideal qualities present in the diviner 
godhead of the Gospels the evolution of Greek mythology 
brought much that satisfies our hearts. This I say because 
the purity inculcated in the religion of the Jews and 
enforced by penalties, as recited in various episodes of the 
Old Testament, rarely imposes itself by the inner charm 
of native worth and loveliness. It comes upon us fre 
quently as the will of a resistless and often unrelenting 
God, a religious point of view transcended by Plato, 
Pindar, and Euripides. Both these presentations were 
doubtless needed, but the importance of this latter must 
not blind us to the power for good inherent in the former. 
And here we may remember the quaint and solemn words 
of Henry More in the Mysterie of Godliness : " Christi 
anity is so excellent in itself that we need not phansy any 
Religions worse then they are, the better to set off its 
eminency. Besides the more tolerable sense we can make 
of the affairs of the ancient Pagans, the easier Province we 
shall have to maintain against prophane and Atheistical men, 
to whom if you would grant that Providence had utterly 
neglected for so many ages together all the nations of the 
world except that little handfull- of the Jews, they would, 
whether you would or no, from thence infer that there was 
no Providence over them neither, and consequently no God." 
All these considerations certainly arouse a feeling of 
thankfulness that the great religious leaders of Greek 
thought should before all things have occupied themselves 
with the goodness of their various ideal divinities. Had 
their preoccupation been to show that one god was more 
powerful than another, rather than the total superiority of 
gods to humankind, then the charm of goodness " hearted in 


high hearts" would never have ended by attaching to the 
best man s conception of the best god in Olympus. It is, 
in fact, difficult to see how the spontaneous charm of 
Demeter s love, the glorifying efficacy of her sorrows, could 
have been set before the human mind, could have been 
dramatised otherwise than in a community of gods no one 
of whom had an absolute and omnipresent supremacy. It 
is fortunate perhaps for us that the Greeks were poetical 
and dramatic rather than logical and literal-minded in their 
theology, if theology we choose to call it, for in the 
charmed realm of their great gods where as equals they 
suffered and struggled, hoped and helped, loved and were 
loved, the ideal character of the perfect god a man divine, 
a human god was gradually brought to be. 1 

i It was not omnipotence so much as solitude, lack of good fellowship, 
of susceptibility to comforts and delights, that Pagans found fault with in 
-the Christian ideal. "Whence comes, who is, and where lives their 
precious god?" asks Caecilius, and then he gives his own answer by 
qualifying the god as " Unicus, solitarius, destitutus," without a fellow, 
solitary -wholly forsaken. Forthefull passage see the Octavivsoi Mmucius 
Felix p 13 Possibly the mere fact that the Christians boasted of the 
oneness of their god enhanced the Pagan appreciation of mere multiplicity; 
and yet there is a genuine ring in the saying attributed to one of the imperial 
defenders of Paganism that a universe emptied of numerous divinities was 

Lehrs has given the best account of the matter as it affected 
fundamentally Greek notions of religion. "The very circles long accus 
tomed to a view of myths which either abandoned or explained them 
away, the very people who (like the influential Stoics) had definitely made 
up their minds against all gods in human shape, entertained side by side 
with the metaphysical conception of one highest god a present belief m 
many gods. Nor was this belief a mere matter of formal dogma ; it 
lived and glowed with a power that influenced men s lives." Again Lehrs 
says in the same essay, entitled, Gott, Goiter und Ddmonen, When 
your Greek contemplated nature and the feebleness and dependence of 
man, there arose before him not one god ... but there was a spon 
taneous outburst of the fulness of life divine. He saw a world of gods. 
The gifted author at the close of this interesting passage finds an adequate 
though untranslatable phrase for the lives and loves ( of the gods on 
Olympus, "Dieses vielgestaltige Gotterineinanderleben." Populare Auf- 
sdtze, p. 130. 


In searching out the development of an ideal character, 
divine and human, through the tangles of poetic fiction that 
served at once to hide and to protect it till its growth was 
strong, we must be ready for surprises. We must forget 
that Zeus was ruler in Olympus, and be often prepared 
to treat him like the least among his attendant divinities. 
His looks and even his attributes are given sometimes to 
Aesculapius, one of the latest of partakers in Olympian 
immortality. Apollo and Dionysus will often seem almost 
convertible, and the worship of Demeter merges into that 
of Rhea on the one hand, and on the other into that of 
Cybele, while all three goddesses are continually exercising 
powers, giving ear to prayers, and receiving offerings 
which might be equally well associated with the name of 

In fact, the most profitable state of mind for one who 
would learn about Greek religion treats each god and 
goddess in turn as if he or she alone existed, and at the 
same time always bears in vivid mind the history and 
attributes of all and several of the other gods. 1 

There was noticeable in the* last days of Paganism a 
breaking down of barriers, an effacement of the individual 
status of each god. This process began much earlier, how 
ever, in the case of some gods than in that of others. In 
deed one of the greatest Greek divinities, Dionysus, seems 

1 In dealing with this difficulty one thing chiefly needful, according to 
Lehrs, is to accustom our minds to the notion of an extended sphere of 
action for each and all of the several gods. Every god had his own peculiar 
and appropriate range of usefulness and activity, and yet every god was 
besought for every manner of help, in any place where he was close at 
hand, where he was propitious, where he was especially worshipped. " 
Populdre Aufsdtze, p. 138. Indeed a very close parallel to this over 
lapping of the spheres of power assigned to the various gods may be 
found in cases of appeal made to patron saints in the Greek and in the 
Roman Church. 


never to have been to-day what yesterday had shown him, 
and on every morrow he was changed again. He began 
as the great god of Thrace, a prophet-ruler of the dead. 
Introduced in more southerly climes, he became in one 
place a god of clemency, and in another the avenging deity. 
So far as the religious consciousness of Hellas was ever 
wholly awakened, just so far was there an attempt to frame 
the universal Dionysus out of elements drawn from all this 
revelling rout of fairy-tales. In one direction the differ 
ences fell away that divided Dionysus from his father 
Zeus ; on another side and this is a vital point for under 
standing the history not only of Greek but especially 
of Attic religion a close affinity showed itself between 
Dionysus 1 and Apollo, more especially Delphian Apollo. 

Delphi was the seat of a joint worship of Dionysus and 
Apollo. Apollo absented himself from his shrine on Par 
nassus as well as from his holy island of Delos during the 
bitterer winter months. At Delphi Dionysus naturally 
ruled supreme while Apollo was thus absent, since he was 
there before Apollo came at all. I shall now speak of 
Delphi, not only because of this interesting coupling of two 
great gods, this dwelling together in unity at Delphi of two 
divine and blessed brethren, but also because there is a 
certain present appropriateness in the theme. How could 
I more suitably close an introduction to lectures that are to 
deal with excavations already achieved than by talking of a 
far-famed site where all is yet to be done, and showing what 

1 Dionysus finally reached a point which may be described as a con 
fluence of epithets derived from all the various forms of his own story, and 
also from the closely allied worship and myths of Osiris as well as from 
other sources farther away. See the Plutarchian tract on Isis and Osiris ; 
and for the mass of epithets see Orphic Hymns, No. 51, which gives forty- 
five epithets, and No. 30, where there are twenty-eight. 


vital questions may be answered by successful diggings 
there ? 

The clearness and the almost intellectual sparkle of the 
fountain of Castalia l can be neither overpraised nor over 
prized. To slake the thirst at this bright stream, and look 
from Delphian heights downward and see the far-off 
glimmer of a distant sea descried from aloft and afar across 
the Crissaean plain, memorable for the sacred wars fought 
that none might pollute it by tillage of any kind, is an 
experience never to be forgotten. Then turn away and see 
the sun-illumined glories of those high-heaved bulwarks on 
Parnassus side, the rocks once called Phaedriades. High 
above the ledge, where ancient Delphi rose, are reared 
these sheer walls of living light ; and one of the mysterious 
places which some connect with the Apolline oracle is a 
seemingly unmeasurable rift in these Phaedriades that may 
be entered by adventurous climbers from the gathering- 
place of the Castalian spring. 

Here, truly, is a place where pilgrims would resort, and 
at Delphi the traveller in Greece may even now fitly bring 
to a climax all those feelings of wonder and exultation 
awakened by the sight of Greece, the common and inalien 
able fatherland of generous souls. If two friends were 
shortly to be parted, and each to see the other s living face no 
more, I could wish for them no more solemn place for their 
last days of fellowship than Delphi, Delphi as it is to-day. 

Here they could read together that most solemn, sweet, 
and pious play 2 where Euripides shows forth the spirit of 

1 Appendix XI. ii. 76. * 

Such, I maintain, is the character of the play which has recently 
been described by a distinguished authority as an "attack upon Delphi." 
My reasons for dissenting from this unusual view of the Ion have been 
fully presented in the Nation, No. 1329 (i8th December 1890). 


truth and noble - hearted kindliness that inspired the 
Delphian worship of Apollo. Above the actors in the 
play of Ion towers Parnassus ; the brighter, purer air of 
its twin peaks exhales from every line of this tragedy, which 
may after all be deemed no tragedy, since it comes to a 
happy issue, that involves neither murder nor sudden death. 
Both of these twin Parnassus peaks belonged to Apollo and 
Dionysus, as Dante remembered in his invocation of Apollo 
at the beginning of his Paradise ; but, so far as Apollo alone 
stood for the highest reach of the poetic spirit, the highest 
summit was peculiarly his. Hence Dante says : 

Most kind Apollo, for my final task 

Make thou of me such vessel of thy grace 

As with thy laurel-crown thou canst reward. 

One peak thus far of high Parnassus twain 

I found enough ; but now must have them both, 1 

Or enter not the contest that impends. 

Now enter thou my breast, inspire me thou ! 

1 This is a far truer and more effective picture than that of Cervantes 
in the "Journey to Parnassus," where Helicon with its Hippocrene, its 
Pegasus, and its Aganippe is made a part of Parnassus. Dante only 
remembered (as Scartazzini says) the beautiful lines of Lucan (Phars. v. 
71-74) describing the Parnassus : 

" Hesperio tantum, quantum semotus Eoo 
Cardine, Parnassus gemino petit aethera colle, 
Mons Phoebo, Bromioque sacer : cui numine mixto 
Delphica Thebanae referunt trieterica Bacchae. " 

It is interesting to see that Dante was not, as Cervantes was, appealed to 
by the array of misguided learning which he might easily have derived 
from the commentary of Servius on Virgil, much resorted to in his day. 
See Servius on Georg. iii. 43 ; Eel. vi. 29, x. u. In his commentary on 
the Aeneid, Servius carries this confusion farther by saying on Aeneid vii. 
641 : Parnassus, mons Thessaliae, dividit^lr in Cithaeronem, Liberi, et 
Heliconem, Apollinis, cuius sunt Musae ; and again on the same line 
repeated, Aeneid x. 163 : Parnassus mons est Thessaliae iuxta Boeotiam, 
qui in duo finditur iuga, Cithaeronem Liberi, et Heliconem Apollinis et 
Musarum. The origin of this confusion between the two peaks of Par 
nassus and the neighbouring pair of Boeotian peaks is probably to be found 


In Dante s mind Apollo stood aloof from all other 
exemplars of the pure poetic spirit, from all other inspirers 
of majestic song. The Muses and Dionysus were enough 
for him while he but sang of torments and of earth, but for 
the upward winging of his song through the heavens, 
Apollo s inspiration was required. It came to him as a 
crowning consummation and a grace ineffable from God to 
uplift his soul and transfigure his body until he could have 
a perfect vision of heaven, the wonderland of man s 
nativity, the fatherland of every righteous soul. 

This true insight into the unperishable function, the 
indestructible potency of Apollo, was possessed not by 
Dante alone, but by many poets ancient and modern. It 
has been indeed a true instinct, an unfaltering flight of 

in the vague recollection of certain details in a quotation from Hermesianax 
of Cyprus made in the Plutarchian work De Fluviis (II. lafj.rjvbs). Par 
nassus generically includes all peaks between Mounts Oeta and Corax on 
the one hand, and Cirrha and Anticirrha on the other ; specifically the name 
Parnassus applies to the two highest peaks in this range which are named 
Tithorea ( Herod, viii. 32, Strabo, p. 417, and Pausan. X. xxxii. 6) and Lycorea 
(Pausan. ibid, and Strabo, p. 418). For the Greek poets these peaks 
were inseparable, and were associated with rites more frequently connected 
with Dionysus than with Apollo (Aeschylus, Eum. 22 ff. ; Soph. Ant. 1126 
ff. and 1144 f . ; Eurip. /. T. 1244, Phoen. 205 ff. , 226 ff., Ion, 713, and 
Hypsipyle, fr. 752). Apollo was not however excluded, but his presence was 
involved in that of Dionysus. Pausanias, speaking of the peaks of Par 
nassus (X. xxxii. 7), says : TO, 8 veQ&v r CGTIV cu/wrepw TO, &Kpa, Kail at 
6i>tdes eTri TOVTOIS ry Atovwry /cat T A7r6XXwvt /j.aivot>Tai. Virgil and 
Ovid say nothing new about the two peaks. Ovid agrees with Pindar in 
making Parnassus the Mount Ararat of Deucalion s deluge. Lucan does 
not exclude either god from either peak ; but, nevertheless, Benvenuto da 
Imola has rightly interpreted Dante s meaning here by saying : " Unum 
iugum Parnassi deputatum Baccho suffecit sibi hucusque, nunc vero et 
illud et aliud consecratum Apollini est sibi necessarium. Per Bacchum 
autem figuratur scientia naturalis quae haberi potest per acquisitionem 
humanam, sicut physica et ethica." Apollo represents metaphysica or 
sacra scientia ; Bacchus stands for eloquence, quae hucusque suffecit 
sibi " ; but Apollo is sapientia. Then he maintains that Apollo and 
Bacchus represent the same god under different names, quoting Macrobius, 
and "Orpheus sacer poeta." Dante himself here adopts Orphic views. 
See Appendix XL ii. 86-89, ar >d Hi. 9- 


poetic inspiration, which has preserved Apollo more than 
any other of the gods in Greece. Let us then see at 
last that Apollo rather than Zeus was governor of 
Olympus, that the only real discipline if such a word 
be applicable at all submitted to even momentarily by 
all the gods in Greece emanated from Delphi and the 
far-sighted, wide -minded oracle of Apollo at that holy 

Zeus was a king among gods, who reigned but governed 
not. 1 His Premier was the Delphian god. This way of 
stating the facts is new, but still the very nature of Greek 
mythology and religion warrants us in adopting it. The 
god of purest highest poetry alone was competent rightly 
to order a religion which was pure poesy. Instinctively 
the poets Homer and Hesiod shaped Greek religion, and 
Herodotus speaks of them as its originators, the first theo 
logians. It is against the poets and their poetical theology 
that Plato makes his protest. All this, together with the 
necessity laid upon us, even to this present hour, of going 
to school, to the great Greek poets, when we seek to inform 
ourselves about the Greek gods and their sanctuaries, will 
prepare us for one of the many exquisitely true utterances 
exquisitely made by Mr. Walter Pater, to whose various 

1 A certain latter-day enhancement of the supreme power of Zeus is 
one of the interesting differences that distinguish Greco-Roman from early 
Greek religion. This was but the natural result of the political preponder 
ance of Rome and the Theocrasy or commingling of heterogeneous gods 
taken in conjunction with the new place made for imperial ideas in the reli 
gious service of the empire. No doubt philosophy and the clearly thought- 
out belief in one supreme power, to which so many leaders of later Pagan 
thought gave utterance, also played its part. To Jupiter or Zeus, as the 
titular representatives among the traditional gods of this supreme maker 
and orderer of the universe, universal prayers were made. It must, how 
ever, be remembered just here that we are prone to read into the religion 
of the ancients something of our own clear-cut notion about an indisputably 
supreme author of all being. 


essays l I earnestly refer for much that enlightened me in 
the preparation of these lectures. To him, and also to the 
well-known book of Preller, and to essays by William 
Mannhardt, 2 that deserve to be better known than they 
are, I desire to make especial acknowledgment. 

In his first essay on the Myth of Demeter and Perse 
phone, Mr. Pater draws to his close with words for which 
I claim a wider application than he gives to them. After 
truly saying that " there is a certain cynicism in that over- 
positive temper, which is so jealous of our catching any 
resemblance in the earlier world to the thoughts that really 
occupy our minds, and which, in its estimate of the actual 
fragments of antiquity, is content to find no seal of human 
intelligence upon them," he speaks of the theory of com 
parative mythology and of the specific and most helpful 
doctrine or theory of animism. 3 " Only," he adds, in the 

1 Two essays on "The Myth of Demeter and Proserpina" in the Fort 
nightly for January and February 1876, and in December of the same year, 
"A Study of Dionysus." This last is completed by an essay on "The 
Bacchanals of Euripides," published in Macmillari s Magazine for May 1889. 

- Mythologische Forschungen, posthumously published by H. Patzig in 

3 Since the preparation and delivery of these studies as lectures this 
whole subject has been elaborated in Mr. Frazer s Golden Bough, which is 
a treasure-house of information in regard to primitive religious customs. 
Especial attention is there given to customs and stories which embody this 
doctrine of animism. As a matter of course the elements of especial interest 
in Greek myths as such reach immeasurably above and beyond any traces 
of primitive religion or fetichism discernible in their beginning. Still, 
since the absence of a right account means almost inevitably a wrong 
account of these beginnings, Mr. PYazer s book is relevant to the study of 
Greek mythology and religion. His readers are, however, in serious 
danger of thinking otherwise because the centre of gravity in his Golden 
Bough falls beyond its base. The picturesque but comparatively unim 
portant rite of the Arician Grove is no proper nucleus for the important 
material which Mr. Frazer has gathered into his book. 

Much light is thrown upon various questions discussed below in another 
and most welcome publication, The Monuments and Mythology of Ancient 
Athens, by Miss Harrison and Mrs. Verrall. I can only regret that I had 
not the great advantage of using both these books in preparing my lectures. 


application of these theories, "the critic must not forget 
that after all it is with poetry he has to do. The abstract 
poet of that first period of mythology, creating in this 
wholly impersonal, intensely spiritual way, the abstract 
spirit of poetry itself, rises before the mind, and in speaking 
of this poetical age the critic must take heed before all 
things not to offend the poets." 

The poets, then, and Apollo, or the personified spirit of 
poetry, form our court of final appeal which sits upon the 
loftier peak of Parnassus, and judges all matters of vital 
concern to the gods in Greece and to Greek religion. 
With this proviso it may be said that Apollo s was the only 
authority which really swayed Olympus. When, however, a 
more extended power ove r all the other gods is attributed 
to Apollo, the fact becomes so nearly a fact of poetry, that 
the statement of it in prose almost deprives it of its truth. 
Let there be, then, an appeal to some poet. Hear an echo, 
a translation from the sweetest strains divine of poet 
Aristophanes : 

"Come to me, partner mine," sings the hoopoe to the 
nightingale, "cease from slumbers, unloose the flights of 
sacred songs, that through thy lips divine dost wail, for 
mine and thine, for Itys of many tears trilling and shrilling 
in the liquid melodies of thy tawny throat. Pure ascends 
through the greenwood thicket their echoing refrain even 
unto Zeus s throne, where golden-haired Phoebus, giving 
attentive ear and making responsive music to thy mournful 
lays, upon his lyre of ivory wrought, marshalls the dances 
of the gods. Lo ! from deathless lips proceed the while 
concordant with thy strains most heavenly acclamations from 
the blessed gods." Here was no place for father Zeus to 
interfere ; like all the other gods, he too obeyed Apollo, and 


followed after Phoebus, leader of the dance. Delphian 
Apollo was mightier in song and in prophetic wisdom than 
even Zeus himself. The poet s poet-god wielded the sceptre 
of poetry and gave his law to all the gods in Greece. 1 

After all is said and done such rule and right to guide 
as attached to Apollo among other gods belonged to him 
by divine right of righteousness, and has the final sanction 
of a sense of tolerance and fair dealing conspicuous in the 
justice of Apollo s acts and the generosity of what he 
abstained from doing. His rule was based upon a truly 
poetical sense of right and wrong. Had he not been 
generous and broadly tolerant of powers and pretensions 
which prosaic minds and gods of prose would certainly 
have resented and opposed, he never could have prevailed 
at Delphi. It was this supremely poetical quality in the 
Delphian god, his possession, so to speak, of imagination, 
which enabled him serenely to contemplate and wisely to 
further the welldoing of other divinities and of various 
worships often seemingly the rivals of his own. The best 
instance of this Delphian tolerance of Apollo is in the 
union of Apollo and Dionysus at Delphi itself, and in the 
cordial and useful support given by Apollo s Delphian 
oracle to the propagation and elaboration of Dionysus 
worship elsewhere, particularly in Attica. Like Apollo, 
Dionysus was a poet-god and a giver of oracles, an inspirer 
of the souls, and a possessor of the bodies of men. And yet 

1 This is a very different primacy from that primacy of fear attributed 
to Apollo in the Homeric Hymn. The difference may serve as a measure 
of the advance in nobility of religious thought made by the Greeks under 
the leadership of great and deeply religious thinkers like Euripides, Plato, 
and Pindar. And yet something of the later strain of Apollo is heard in 
the prayer of Glaucus, Iliad, xvi. 514 ff. : "Hear, O Lord, who art 
somewhere in Lycia s rich land or in Troy ; for thou canst hear in every 
place when a man is in grief such as now is the grief that is on me." 


Dionysus and Apollo went hand in hand through all the 
length of Hellas. 

Another way of stating the case would be to say, as has 
recently been done, and most truly, that one great reason 
for the prosperity and renown of the oracle and temple at 
Delphi was the cleverness shown by Apollo s priests in 
combining and maintaining with equal hand the various 
cults of various divinities that centred there. But this way 
of counting those who may in some sense have been wire 
pullers as wire-pullers only, of counting their manoeuvres 
for everything, and the reality of the cause for which their 
work was done for nothing, leads nowhere. It is profitless, 
because falsehood always lurks in the reasoning of those 
who, from the heights of imagined superiority, look down 
upon the great religion of a great epoch in the world s 
history, deeming it a sheer delusion through and through. 
Thank Heaven ! we can let the eighteenth century have all 
for its own that canting talk about the "trickery of priests." 
No vital religious fact was ever materially affected by the 
trickery of priests, and it is no accident therefore, but a 
deeply significant fact in the course of Greek mythology 
and the history of Greek religion, that Apollo and Dionysus, 
the sublime and the intense, dwelt together in unity before 
the eyes of those who came and worshipped at the moun 
tain shrine of Delphi. 

"Apollo, ivy-god and prophet bacchanal" 1 cries Aeschylus, 
sublimest of the singers at Dionysus Attic theatre, giving 
to Apollo the characteristic insignia of Dionysus. "Lord 
Bacchus , lover of the laurel tree"* 1 says Euripides, lending 

1 Fr. 394, cf. Macrobius, Saturn. 18, 6. 

2 Macrobius, ibid. : Euripides in Licymnio, Apollinem Liberumque 
unum eundemque deum esse significans, scribit " dtcnrora <j>i\6da.(pve 
Bd/c%e, Ilcuaj "AirdXXov 


Apollo s sacred laurel bough to Dionysus for the nonce. 
Traditions kept alive in far-away places show the brother 
hood of these two gods of poetry. In one place record 
was preserved of it by a worship of Apollo under the 
special epithet of "one sent by Dionysus." 1 In popular 
pictures, such as decorated vases, the ivy often crowns not 
Dionysus but the slenderer Apollo. The Muses, repre 
sented as Apollo s attendants upon the front pediment of 
his great Delphian temple, are frequently given in popular 
pictures to be the companions of Dionysus, who also bor 
rows very often his brother Apollo s lyre. To close these 
instances with the strongest proof of the good fellowship 
and mutual tolerance between them as conceived by their 
worshippers, consider the western pediment or gable of 
the great temple of Apollo just before mentioned. To 
correspond to Apollo and the Muses of the other, this 
pediment presented Dionysus and his Thyades, his maenad 
band of bacchanalian women. The temple being that of 
Apollo, Dionysus still could be made most prominent, since, 
like Apollo, he was an inspirer of song. 

Many other reasons, but especially the date of this 
Delphian temple, built in the middle of the sixth century 
B.C. by Spintharus of Corinth, indicate how early this 
bond of brotherhood between Apollo and Dionysus 
received conspicuous sanction from the Delphian priests 
and in Greece at large. Within the temple, just in the 
Holy of Holies, where the golden statue of Apollo stood, 
was a tomb of Chthonian Dionysus, not far from the 
rounded stone that marked the absolute centre or 
"navel" of the earth. This last was flanked by two 
golden eagles, 2 for it was well known that Zeus sent forth 

1 At ovvffb Soros, Pausanias, I. xxxi. 4. 2 Appendix XI. i. 126. 


two of his own imperial birds one from the north, the 
other from the south, and the fact of their meeting just 
in this spot, and perching on either side of this parti 
cular stone, witnesses that Delphi is at the centre of the 
world. This original meeting was commemorated by the 
two golden eagles set up upon the spot and sanctified 
to Apollo. Another feature of this shrine that goes 
to prove that it was no ordinary sanctuary of Apollo, 
but rather a meeting ground for many worshippers of 
many divinities, was an altar to Poseidon, the shaker of 
the earth, which was anciently erected and always main 

Such points as these, and others to be gained from 
Pausanias description of the great Delphian temple, show 
how much may be learned from excavations on this site. 
To make excavations at Delphi will be a glorious task for 
any to whom it may be allotted, and would indeed be a 
fitting continuation of the work which our countrymen, 
inspired and directed in those days by Dr. Merriam, a 
scholar of whose great attainments and sound judgment 
America is proud, have already done among the Attic 
mountains at Icaria. But the friends of the American 
School of Classical Studies at Athens have not forgotten 
that it is the youngest but one of the four schools there 
established. 1 Therefore they will not sorrow but rejoice if 
the first established of all schools at Athens, the French 
School, with its well established traditions and a liberal 
grant from the Government, carries out work so well begun 

1 Rumour has it that the Italians are about to add theirs to the four 
established already. Those who are familiar with the organisation of 
excavations in Italy and know the Italian system of local reports will under 
stand the gain to Greek archaeology which an Italian School at Athens 
must bring. 


at Delphi by M. Homolle and M. Foucart. 1 What could 
not be done with a sufficient grant of money by a School 
that accomplished with next to no money at all the excava 
tions and investigations at Delos which have made us all 
M. Homolle s debtors ? 2 

A disentangling of the relations between Apollo and the 
other Delphian gods, some of whom seem to have pre 
ceded him and to have been eclipsed by his arrival, will 
perhaps be possible in the future. But this can only be 
when much work upon the site shall have yielded many 
new inscriptions. With only such knowledge as is now 
available, contained, be it said, in an admirable paper 
recently published by Professor Middleton in the Journal 
of Hellenic Studies? it seems possible to say little with 
positiveness. It is not, however, rash to declare even now 
that the terms upon which Apollo s worship finally obtained 
supremacy at Delphi are likely to have enlarged the final 
range of his influence. The compromises involved in his 
first coming no doubt begot in him a wide and tolerant 

With the earlier history of worship at Delphi is bound up 
the growth and increase of the great power that made for 
order in Olympus and began to bring into the religious 
ideas of Greece a spirit of reasonableness if not of logic. 
Just as the highest ideal of poetry, the work of a poet s poet 
like Dante, presents the universe as an ordered whole, so 
the highest and really most supreme divinity in that poetry 
of poetry, Greek religion, will be Apollo on Parnassus, the 
poet s god of poetry, seeking to organise, to make reason- 

1 Foucart, Ruines et Histoire de Delphes, 1865. 

2 See chap. viii. 

3 See the Journal for 1888, vol. ix. p. 282. 




able, and justify the worship and the ways of all the gods in 
Greece, and to present the world of Olympus as an ordered 

This was accomplished chiefly by oracular responses. 
A constant interchange of influence is perceptible in the 
relations between Delphi and Athens. When the hitherto- 
despised Dionysus -worship was brought into honour at 
Athens and no longer hidden in the country denies, the 
influence of the Delphian oracle of Apollo was one of the 
determining forces that wrought the change. It is certain 
that the Delphian oracle sanctioned and promoted just at 
this time an additional worship of Dionysus not known of 
old to the country denies of Attica. Under this new aspect 
from abroad, Dionysus was known as the god of Eleutherae, 
a town on the frontier towards Boeotia. His worship was 
characterised by moderation, and Pegasus, his high priest 
of Eleutherae, is associated with the practice of tempering 
the strength of wine with water. Accordingly the Dionysus 
of Eleutherae was not the awful Dionysus of the nether 
world, not the "angel of the darker drink," but Dionysus 
the Saviour, who came to show men, tired and dazed by his 
orgies, how they might make themselves clear -eyed once 
more and have untroubled hearts as they betook themselves 
again to their wonted avocations. 

By such a mitigation of the more outrageous features in 
the rude and early Attic worship of Dionysus did Apollo 
repay that god who had made place for him when he came 
to Delphi. Of that coming Euripides gives a beautiful 
picture in his Taurian Iphigenia : " Sweet was the babe of 
Leto born, Phoebus, a god with golden hair. Borne by 
Leto, on he came unto Parnassus, whose peak leaps in the 
bacchanalian dance that honours Dionysus. There of 


mottled hue and glance wine -flashing lurked a dragon, 
shaded by laurel leafage ; sheathed as in brass, Earth s 
monstrous portent guarded the seat of nether -world 
prophecy. Him didst thou slay, a mere babe though thou 
wert, Phoebus, and didst enter in to possess it the seat 
of oracles most divine, and now thou art throned on thy 
tripod all-golden, even thy throne unacquainted with false 
hood, rendering there unto mortals thy prophecies that 
ascend from beneath the divine Holy of Holies close 
to the streams of Castaly, in thy house at the midpoint 
of earth." The dragon slain, here alluded to, is the Pythian 
monster. Him and all the oracles rendered by earth 
at Delphi Apollo caused to disappear by the irresistible 
power of his coming. All that was antagonistic to Apollo 
Euripides here looks upon as evil. Perhaps he thought 
of it as embodying all the unpitying relentlessness of the 
earlier and inhuman phase of Greek religion, against which 
his own poems are a dramatised protest. The good that 
existed in local rites was not affrighted by Apollo s coming. 
The dawning sun-god, lately born of Leto on that miracle 
of the Grecian seas, the holy isle of Delos, could banish 
none of the powers of light ; only darkness fled before his 

This coming of Apollo to Delphi, this dawning of the 
light in which we see revealed the highest and the best 
that worship could inspire in Greeks, and wherein we learn 
to know the loftiest characters and characteristics among 
the gods in Greece, may fitly be associated with another 
song of Euripides, sung by Ion at the open door of his 
father Apollo s Delphian temple : 

" Lo from his gleaming chariot drawn by coursers four 
the sun now flashes light far down to earth ; the stars in 


flight are swiftly plunged into holy night by the fires of 
day. Parnassus peaks untrodden, bathed in its radiance, 
receive for men below this wheel of day. Meanwhile the 
smoke of parched frankincense and myrrh wings its way 
upward to Phoebus roof. Yea, and a woman on the thrice 
hallowed tripod is sitting, the Delphian one, singing forth 
such sounds for Greece even as Apollo s voice proclaims." 

This tripod at Delphi was the symbol of Apollo s prim 
acy on earth ; at Athens and in Attica the same tripod was 
awarded as the victor s prize in the tragic and the dithyram- 
bic 1 contest. The winner always consecrated it to Dionysus. 
Thus may the tripod, so constantly present on the Delphian 
coins and in all manner of Greek religious pictures, stand 
for one of the most vital facts in the Greek world : the 
unison of Apollo and Dionysus in concordant rule upon the 
double peak of Delphian Parnassus. 

1 It was certainly awarded for tragic victory at Icaria, and as certainly 
for dithyrambs at Athens, where it was probably also given for tragedy. 


ROMAN imperialism has not usually been judged upon its 
merits. Perhaps this would have been otherwise if Julius 
Caesar, the first and in many ways the greatest of the 
emperors, had lived longer. But his heir Augustus was a 
man of other mould. His whole effort was to persuade 
Rome and the Romans that their worn-out commonwealth 
and all its antiquated simplicity of religion was still surviv 
ing. He wished to be supreme without seeming so, to 
govern but not to reign. This masquerading scheme had 
a marvellous success, and here is one reason why the new 
religious sanction of Roman imperialism, the deification of 
the emperors, has not as yet been very generally under 
stood as it deserves to be. The senate, before Julius 
Caesar died, ordered the institution of worship in his honour ; 
and, if the report of Dio and Zonaras were considered 
more than a misconception of Cicero s mocking allusion, 
they styled him Jupiter Julius. 1 However that may be, 

1 See Dio Cassius (44, 6), for the completes! account : KCU rAos Ala 
e avrbv dvTiKpvs Iov\iov irpoffi^ydpevaav, Kal vabv ai/ry T ?7 T 

avrov Tefj.evKTdTJva.1 tyvwffw, iep^a ff<pt(ri rbv AVT&VLOV, ticrirep nva. did\iov, 
rrpoxfi-piffdfjt.voi ; Zonaras (x. ch. 12, p. 492 A-C) brings in as a climax 
to his long list of honours voted and given to Caesar while he yet lived 
Ata re avrbv lotfXioj/ Trpoff-rjybpevffav. Cf. Cicero (Phil. ii. 43, no) 
Est ergo flamen ut Jovi, ut Marti, ut Quirino, sic Divo Julio M. Antonius? 
Cf. Phil. xiii. 19, 41 Cujus, homo ingratissime, flaminium cur reliquisti ? 
See Suetonius, Caesar, 76. Since Leunclavius and Fabricius" notes on 


Mark Antony was nominated to be his flamen or master 
of sacrifice. But then came Augustus deprecating, so far 
as he was personally concerned, the establishment of temples 
for the new imperial worship, all but forbidding it in Rome 
and barely permitting it elsewhere. He deprecated so con 
spicuous a religious innovation in the full glare of publicity 
at Rome, but apparently did all in his power to extend a 
similar worship in dark corners of Rome itself 1 and in 
various parts of the Roman empire. So successful was this 
policy of artfully dissimulating the new and artificially reviv 
ing the old cults that many of the important sources for 
understanding the deification of the emperors are outside 
of the known literature of imperial days. Obscure and 
fragmentary inscriptions have to be appealed to. Many of 
the great men of imperial administration, including some of 
the emperors themselves, found it difficult always to take 
the new religion seriously; it is therefore not surprising that 
men of another day and generation should pass it by un 

And yet, if a close connection between religion and 
morality can be taken for granted, a new religion was required 
to give sanction to the new morality of imperial days, and 
this religion finds expression in the Augustan poets. In a 

the passage in Dio above cited, the fashion has been to ignore it. Scholars 
have dispensed themselves of the trouble required to sift the testimony of 
Dio, rejecting it summarily as coming too long after the facts. But see 
Dr. R. Wilmans, De Dionis Cassii fontibus, etc., Berlin, 1836, pp. 24 
and 25. Speaking of the acta publica, Dr. Wilmans says: "Ex hoc 
igitur fonte multae apud Dionem derivandae sunt narratiunculae. " Dio 
took his point about Jupiter Julius from the acta publica no doubt. On 
such a point Cicero could not afford to be explicit, therefore he was 
ironical. See also Hugo Grohs, Der Wert des Geschichtswerkes des Cassius 
Dio, etc., Ziillichan, 1884. Livy neglected daily events that happened in 
Rome. Dio s merit lies in his account of these, " fiir die Internet sah er 
noch (besides what Livy notes) die Geschichte Sueton s und die acta publica 
an. " It is evident that his account of honours voted to Caesar is an addi 
tional proof that he took pains about daily events at Rome. 

1 The genius of Augustus was associated with the Lares Compitales. 
See Marquardt (Staatsverwaltung, iii. p. 199), who refers to Ovid (F. v. 
145) and Horace (Od. iv. 5, 34), and for a similar worship of the Genii of 
later emperors to inscriptions. 


lecture before the Royal Institution on Roman Imperialism, 
Professor Seeley contrasts the Republican and the Im 
perial ideals of conduct as follows : " Men ceased to be 
adventurous, patriotic, just, magnanimous ; but, on the 
other hand, they became chaste, tender-hearted, loyal, 
religious, and capable of infinite endurance in a good 
cause." They cultivated the virtues of the pious Aeneas. 
Even though the details of these contrasted catalogues of 
virtue may not be to everybody s mind, the fact of a changed 
standard must be admitted ; and consequently the religious 
alterations, the distinctively imperial innovations in worship, 
should be scrupulously investigated and carefully pondered. 

From Virgil, and also from Horace, Ovid, and others, we 
may learn of the new ideals of this wider and broader day 
which transformed even traditional religion in the Roman 
dominions. The hearts of the subjects of imperial Rome, 
the hopes of the Roman proletariat, were centred not so 
much in the old-time Roman religion as in the new-come 
reign of peace. The emperors could not, if they would, 
escape the homage of their subjects. It was the part of 
wisdom not to stifle but to guide this spontaneous zeal, 
this uplifting of grateful hearts toward the ideal of a bene 
ficent and omnipotent imperial fatherhood. Those ancient 
Caesars could as little escape such a worship as can the 
modern Caesars of Russia. Therefore it was well to bind 
up with the new worship the religious, social, and political 
life of various orders and classes, particularly that of the 
lower and most numerous class, which was more or less 
unprovided for by traditionally existing religious usage and 
ceremonial. Certainly a beginning of social and religious 
life was absolutely needed for those whom Republican Rome 
had left in outer darkness. Without the part assigned in 
imperial services to freedmen and small tradesmen the 
empire would never have been in so advantageous a posi 
tion for reaping the benefits of Christianity as it really was 
when the critical moment arrived. 

Let us view this imperial service in its relation (i) to 


the earlier religion of Greece and Rome ; (2) to the new 
political and religious needs of the hour ; and (3) to the 
political, social, and religious needs of a new class of people, 
i.e. of a class of people who had hitherto been almost com 
pletely ignored. 

It is certain that the notion of deifying the emperor or 
any human being must have been rooted in previous habits 
of mind. No flattery, however base, could on the spur of 
the moment have invented just this form of homage with 
any chance of securing its adoption. The fact is that it 
was not the work of clever men. They had to set their 
hands to it in obedience to a popular impulse which they 
were too clever to withstand. No one supposes that the 
Senate would have done homage to Jupiter Julius of their own 
accord. The burst of popular admiration and gratitude which 
in Greece required that divine honours should be paid to 
Flamininus, 1 was analogous to the enthusiasm felt by the 
Roman populace for their benefactor Caesar. Precedents 
therefore must be sought in the religion of the people. The 
time-honoured worship of the genius of the Roman people or 
of Rome had always appealed especially to the people, and 
this was naturally and promptly associated with and finally 
passed into a worship of the emperor. Was not he their 
good genius? the people asked. Even Augustus allowed 
himself to be worshipped by circumlocution as " the 
clemency of Augustus," and throughout the empire, if not 
in Rome itself, were erected, with his officially reluctant 
sanction, altars and shrines for Rome and Augustus like the 
one on the Athenian Acropolis. 

This Athenian homage may serve to recall the history 
of deification in Greece, which can be read plainly and had 
run a long course before the days of the Caesars at Rome. 

In the middle of the Peloponnesian war a gallant Spartan 

1 See his life by Plutarch (chap, xvi.), where mention of a survival of 
this worship down to Plutarch s time is made. It is interesting to note 
that this deification of Flamininus was by the Greeks of Chalcidice, near 
neighbours of the Amphipolitans who long before paid divine honours to 


soldier, Brasidas, died in Thrace while defending Amphipolis 
from the attacks of Athens. The enthusiastic Amphipolitans 
put Brasidas in the place of their Athenian founder Hagnon, 
ordering an altar to be dedicated to him, and bestowing 
upon him the other quasi-divine honours usually given by 
Greek colonists to the founder. What a hold was gained by 
this manner of testifying to the great qualities of a con 
temporary is shown by the deification of Lysander, which 
took place at the end of this same war. The novelty here 
consists in the fact that Lysander received sacrifices and all 
the rest of it while he was yet living. Brasidas, on the 
other hand, had died before Amphipolis worshipped him. 
Thus long before the Ptolemies and the days of Roman 
imperialism the Greeks in Asia had capped the climax of 
apotheosis for Lysander. So far Rome did not easily go. It 
was, in fact, so little habitual at any time to deify a living 
emperor that the bare proposal was treated as involving his 
" promotion into the next world." There was a moderating 
common-sense at Rome which kept this custom half Greek 
and wholly Oriental within certain bounds, and associated 
it with the reasonable and popular worship of the genius of 

Such were the Greek and Roman possibilities of which 
imperial apotheosis was the enhancement and the realisa 
tion. Now a word may be said of the new religious needs 
to which this apotheosis gave a measure of satisfaction. 
These new needs were felt alike by the higher and lower 
orders in the empire, though by the latter most keenly and 
consistently. Quintilian, Tacitus, and Pliny may fairly 
represent the higher orders. They stood aloof from the 
popular religious point of view, and, like many who took 
refuge in Stoicism or Epicureanism, rejected much if not 
most of the mythology in which the popular mind still 
found a religious satisfaction. It is curious, in spite of all 
this, to note the way in which Tacitus reports a miracle 
performed by Vespasian. He really seems to be willing, 
for a moment at least, to recognise a supernatural power in 


the emperor. 1 Quintilian, without having a systematised 
philosophy of his own, talks of a god who is the " father 
and contriver of the world," one who "administers" the 
universe. 2 Plainly the emperor ruling the Roman world is 
the prototype in this case. Quintilian does not think of 
the emperor as god, but he thinks of god as the emperor. 3 
Pliny, the sceptical naturalist, was especially proud of 
being superior to popular religion. Few things awake his 
enthusiasm, and his usually limping prose takes sudden 
wings only for a moment when he soars toward his god 
made manifest, the shining sun, "mind of the universe." 4 
But Pliny himself has not wholly escaped the religious 
contagion of his time. His thoughts constantly hover 
around the person of the emperor ; his illustrations and 
explanations are always bringing the emperor in. He calls 
Nero the " foe of mankind," and mentions, as it were with 
bated breath, that he came into the world feet foremost. 5 
Again, after rejecting various superstitions, he exclaims 
" The help that man lends to man is god ; this is the way of 
glory eternal. This is the way taken by Roman worthies 
of old, and this way with heavenly step now goes that 
maximus aevi rector (greatest latter-day guide), Vespasian 
Augustus, and by his side his children walk." And then 
he adds "Of all ways for paying due thanks to men 
of great desert, to enrol them as gods is the most time- 
honoured." 6 

If the new and incalculable power of the Roman em 
perors had such a dazzling influence over minds trained 

1 Igitur Vespasianus cuncta fortunae suae patere ratus nee quicquam 
ultra incredibile, laeto ipse vultu, erecta quae adstabat multitudine, iussa 
exsequitur. Statim conversa ad usum manus, ac caeco reluxit dies. 
Utrumque, qui interfuere, mine quoque memorant, postquam nullum men- 
dacio pretium (Hist. iv. 81). Cf. Ann. iv. 20, where, in the account of 
Lepidus and Tiberius, Tacitus represents the favour of an emperor as a 
sort of gift of grace, not to be won but allotted by fate. 

2 Inst. Or. ii. 16, 12. Cf. ibid. xii. 2, 21. 

3 Cf. one of Dante s phrases for the deity, II consiglio che il mondo 
governa" (Par. xxi. 71). 4 Nat. Hist. II. vi. 12. 

5 Ibid. VII. viii. 45. 6 Ibid. II. vii. 18 and 19. 


by habits of philosophic thought, what must have been the 
popular state of mind ? Certain bursts of enthusiasm which 
are chronicled, numerous dedications inscribed on stone, 
may help us to some conception of this. The successful 
career of demagogic and unscrupulous informers gives 
further light. No doubt Eprius Marcellus, one of the 
ablest and most unscrupulous of these informers, depended 
for his backing upon the populace, or he would never have 
taken the tone which he did in the Senate. Eprius and 
others like him were backed by popular indignation in their 
fierce attacks upon those who refused to take the prescribed 
oath, "In acta divi Augusti et divi lulii." 1 His motto 
was also the people s Pray for good emperors, but take 
any you can get and this represented the people s state of 

Among the people who were thus blindly loyal to the 
imperial master, were large numbers whose first franchise 
connected itself with this new order of things. It is curious 
to note as far as the scanty means of information allow 
what a seemingly incongruous compound of Asiatic piety and 
European bureaucracy gathered around the institution of this 
new imperial rite. 

In Italy, Sicily, Gaul, Spain, on the Danube, and in 
Africa a new class of men sprang into notice. They were 
freedmen and small tradesmen, and formed an especial class 
or caste, calling themselves Augustales. They had to do 
with local celebrations analogous to the Augustalia at Rome. 
Furthermore there were provincial meetings of notables. 

1 Eprius Marcellus was identified with the new cult since he was one of 
the Sodales Augustales (see Henzen s Inscription 5425, quoted in Nipper- 
dey s note on Tacitus, Ann. xii. 4). The customary oath, " In acta divi 
Augusti et divi lulii" may be insisted upon as a purely secular act, since 
it was required as a preliminary to the performance of secular functions 
(Ann. iv. 42; xiii. n). Still the use of the word divus certainly involves 
a religious attitude toward those to whom it applies. Moreover Tiberius 
plainly regarded this sollemne iusiurandum as promoting him to a condition 
beyond mortal mishaps, if Tacitus speaks truly (Ann. i. 72) Neque in acta 
sua iurari, quamquam censente senatu, permisit, cuncta mortalium incerta, 
quantoque plus adeptus foret, tanto se magis in lubrico dictitans. 


Convened for the purposes of the new worship, these 
assemblies soon became centres of provincial life, and 
played in later Roman days no unimportant political part, 
although Christianity deprived them of all connection with 

Such conventions of notables existed in the East as 
well as in the West ; but not so the new order of Augustales. 1 
In Greece and Asia Minor, and in general wherever the 
empire of Alexander had planted the seeds of specifically 
Greek political organisation, there was noticeable here and 
there a sort of church organisation. The old hieratic term 
vewKo/305 (familiar at Eleusis, for example), quite removed at 
last from its original meaning of temple-sweeper, got itself 
applied rather to whole communities than to individual 
men, 2 and is found upon many coins of Asiatic cities where 
periodical festivals in honour of deified emperors were held. 
There was competition for this privilege of holding high 
imperial festivals, for the vewKo/na. 3 Ephesus stood pre 
eminent in having had it granted four times. 4 In conjunc 
tion probably with these, and certainly with other features 
of the imperial worship, there came into existence a board 
of ten High Priests for the province of Asia. To take one 
Eastern province as an example of many, they were called 
Ao-Lapxat, 5 and were necessarily men of substance and posi 
tion. They were elected by representatives from various 
cities who assembled yearly at Ephesus. Of these ten 
Aaridpxai one apparently ranked 6 above all the others, and 

1 Although no evidence of the fact is forthcoming, the Augustales prob 
ably existed in the free municipia established in the East. But these as 
well as the colonies may be neglected in speaking broadly, since they were 
not of the East as such. 

2 See, in Pauly, Krause s articles " Certamina " and " Neocoroi"; also 
his more detailed monograph on the veuKopia. 

3 See Tacitus, Ann. iv. 55, where it is plain that something like the 
vewKopia is involved. 

4 Coins of Caracalla s and of Elagabalus reign bear the inscription 
E0e<n u fj.6i>b}v ctTracrcDj/ rerpdm veuKdpwv. 

3 For other provinces there were other titles 
KctTTTraSoKapx?;?, etc. 

G See Marquardt, Rom. Staatsvenvalt. i. p. 513. 


bore either the unqualified title of J^viapx^s, or of 
-rijs Ao-i as. He performed functions analogous to those of a 
bishop. Thus it came to pass that the chief rallying point 
of Paganism in its last battle with Christianity was one of 
its very latest phases the worship of Rome and Augustus 
elaborated in two ways, one for the West and one for the 



THE worship of Demeter does not agree with war, since she 
never used her golden sword l to slay. Remembering, when 
wronged even, that she was the giver of good things, she 
found comfort to her griefs in blessing all mankind. Such 
a goddess had no place in Homer s Iliad \ the whole of its 
heroism is alien to her. Other peaceful gods might go to 
war, limping Hephaestus might join the force that favoured 
Greece, while Aphrodite smiling fought for Troy ; but 
neither side claimed Demeter. So far from seeking her aid 
were the haughty heroes of Homeric song, that her good 
gifts were sometimes even misprized. Ajax defied all who 
were mortal and ate of the fruits of Demeter, all whom a 
spear-thrust could pierce or a rock could crush and maim. 2 
The golden grain in abundance, for which a farmer will 
always be thankful, often seemed to those valiant men of 
war an unwelcome mark of mortality and weakness, a blot 
upon the brightness of undying fame. When the Achaean 
host is under a cloud of dust and its burnished helmets and 
bristling spears are tarnished, then the poet bethinks him 
of Demeter the yellow -haired, where she so often stands 

1 Hymn to Demeter, 1. 4. - Iliad, xxi. 76 ; xiii. 322. 


among the winnowers on a farm, parting the wheat from the 
chaff that spreads over the brightness of day like the dust 
that chokes the Achaeans. 1 Plainly it is rather in moments 
of trial and humiliation that the kindly goddess of earth s 
fruits is remembered in the Iliad. Demeter had in fact 
been left at home when the host set sail for Troy. She 
remained among the farms and flowery fields of Thessalian 
Pyrasus where was her sanctuary, and its name of Pyrasus 2 
came from the abundance of wheat which was her gift. 

In the Odyssey, on the other hand, farmers and farming 
are looked upon with more interest; and naturally, since 
the intense theme of the Trojan war is there exchanged for 
a less thrilling but more charming narrative of adventure. 
In the Iliad, when nothing is said to the contrary, we may 
be sure of fighting ; in the Odyssey, no matter what else is 
going on, there is continual feasting. The whole of the last 
half of the Odyssey has its scene laid at home among the 
farmsteads or in the hall of Odysseus. Unhappily the 
domain of Odysseus was no Pyrasus, no wheatland, and 
therefore though we become familiar with the domestic 
economy of Eumaeus, whose faithfulness to his lord Odysseus 
tempts the translator to be absolutely literal and to call him 
the "divine swineherd," 3 this brings no mention of Demeter 
the home goddess of grain, the Kornmutter or Mother of 
Corn. Something of her history may be gathered from 
Homer, though he chiefly knows that Zeus was her husband, 
and that he slew her beloved lasion, whom she met upon 
a thrice-ploughed fallow field of Crete. 4 

Homer either did not imagine that Persephone was 

1 Iliad, v. 500. Ibid. ii. 695. 

3 Mr. Gladstone has recently and truly said that in point of goodness 
Eumaeus excels every one of the Homeric gods. 

4 Odyssey, v. 125. 


daughter to Demeter, or did not think that the relation, 
so ineffably beautiful according to the story which finally 
prevailed, had any very great significance. He speaks of 
Persephone simply as the daughter of Zeus, 1 whereas the 
idea that finally prevailed made Persephone nothing if not 
her mother s daughter, 2 and sometimes indeed left a doubt 
whether Zeus or Poseidon were her father. It mattered 
little to her later worshippers who her father was, since she 
became all her mother s, the eternal type of a daughter 
dearly loved and lost, sought for in grief and found at last. 
But to Homer Persephone was nothing of all this ; she was 
the queen of the dead ; 3 dread Persephone. Terror was 
in her name, and in spite of the lovelier phases through 
which she passed, a word of slaughter can still be heard 
when she is named. For Homer she was always to be 
feared, 4 a divinity only then to be called glorious when by 
so naming her you might forestall some dreadful harm. She 
could send forth, from where she ruled among the dead, 
that awful Gorgon s head that turned to stone all those 
whose eyes it met; her anger was therefore to be feared 
and in every way to be appeased. This gloomy picture of 
Persephone is drawn in the Odyssey > where she dwells and 
queens it in a dusky realm that may be above or below 
ground ; the only thing which is certain about it is its situa 
tion with reference to the rest of the world. It is a land 
far off in the darkness of the west, beyond the twilight of 

1 Iliad, xiv. 326 ; Odyssey, xi. 217. 

2 Eur. Phoen. 687. 

3 Arcadian legends give Persephone the name Afrwoiva (Paus. VIII. 
xxxvii.) and her mother is Demeter Erinys. At Eleusis under this aspect 
Persephone was named Daeira. See Preller s Greek Mythology. 

4 Persephone is called e-jrcuvfi four times in the Iliad and four times in 
the Odyssey, where she is also (euphemistically) four times called 

and once ayvr]. 


Cimmeria. It is an outer or utter world, not necessarily an 
under world. 

In the Iliad, on the other hand, we hear of Hades or 
Aidoneus, the husband of dread Persephone. So awful 
were the abodes where these two dwelt and ruled supreme 
that the poet speaks of the disclosure of Hades dominions 
to the light of day as a thing too awful almost to mention. 
Unlike the far off country of the dead visited by Odysseus, 
the otherworld of the Iliad is under men s feet. The 
righting of the gods before Troy, Poseidon shaking the 
earth, and Zeus filling the air with his thunders, nearly 
broke through into the undiscovered country of the dead. 
Aidoneus upon his nether throne was filled with fear and 

It cannot be too often repeated that the Demeter known 
to the Homeric poems had no affinity with Persephone in 
either of her two realms. According to a flickering tradi 
tion we hear that Persephone was deemed by some to be 
not Demeter s daughter but a child borne by the dreadful 
river goddess Styx. 1 Perhaps if Persephone s mother had 
been named by Homer, he would have said she was the 
Styx. Anything rather than mother to the queen of death 
was Homer s Demeter. She is a goddess of peace and 
plenty. For another presence like hers we may look to a 
place far nearer home than Greece, to English Northumber 
land. Hutchinson says in his history, 2 "In some places 
I have seen an image aparelled in great finery, a sheaf of 
corn placed under her arm and a scycle in her hand, 

1 Apollodorus, Bib I. \. 3, . 

2 A View of Northumberland, with an Excursion to the Abbey of 
Mailross in Scotland, by W. Hutchinson, Anno 1776, published at New 
castle in 1778, vol. ii. p. 17 of the Appendix in the account of Mell 



carried out of the village on the morning of the con 
clusive reaping day, with music and much clamour 
the reapers into the field, where it stands fixed on a pole 
all day, and when the reaping is done is brought home in 
like manner. This they call the Harvest Queen, and it 
represents the Roman Cerec." Hutchinson might have 
added that it corresponded to what we know from Homer 
of Demeter, who resembles nothing so much in those 
earliest stories as this Harvest Queen of England or the 
Corn Lady whose divinity is honoured in Scotland by 
hanging up a small package of grain when the reapers have 
finished. 1 

After the Homeric poems came the works of Hesiod, 
but it is uncertain whether all the traditions preserved by 
Hesiod and not recorded by Homer are of an origin later 
than Homer. In fact they both give us glimpses of 
customs and habits of mind as old as time. It is con 
venient, however, and not seriously misleading, to think of 
the cheerful yellow -haired Homeric Demeter as of one 
coming to woman s estate through the deeper experiences 
with which Hesiod s poems invest her. Here she becomes 
acquainted with grief through her dear daughter Persephone. 
Hesiod knows far more of the goddess s kindred than 
Homer. Rhea is Demeter s mother and Cronos is her 
father ; Zeus is her husband, to whom she bore white-armed 
Persephone. Hesiod also has heard, while Homer has not, 
of the carrying off of Persephone by Aidoneus. 2 To him 
Zeus granted his daughter s hand, and by him Persephone 
is seized and carried off in a chariot. Still, Hesiod is not 
always very far in his notion of Demeter from the simple 

1 Parallels from various country customs are multiplied by Mannhardt, 
and also by Frazer in the Golden Bough, 2 Theog. 912, 


and uncomplicated idea of Homer. Demeter the goddess, 
crowned with those very fruits which she alone can give, is 
famine s foe. " Work, Perseus, make famine your foe and 
fair-crowned Demeter your friend." 1 This is Hesiod s 
advice to his kinsman. 

The Greeks in Sicily worshipped Demeter from the 
earliest days, and well they might, since the island of their 
homes was so especially favoured by her that it came to 
deserve the name of the granary of Rome. One Sicilian 
sanctuary was dedicated to Hadephagia, 2 a strange name 
indeed until by translation you discover that this object of 
Sicilian reverence was simply the Genius of a square meal, 
the goddess of Enough-and-to-spare, a divinity much prayed 
to even now by cow-boys and many other people who have 
long wildernesses to cross, and often fast perforce for many 
hours together. At this same Sicilian shrine Demeter herself 
was worshipped under the surname of Sito, that is, of 
Mother Rye. This Sicilian service paid to Demeter Sito 
and to Hadephagia is but the logical outcome of the utili 
tarian view of Demeter as famine s foe presented by Hesiod 
in his Works and Days^ that oldest of farmers almanacs. 

But beyond the simple aspect of Demeter as the giver 
of food there lurked in the earliest adoration of her some 
thing most solemn and secret. How early Herodotus 3 
considered this worship to have come into Greece may be 
judged by his story that the daughters of Egyptian Danaus 
showed unto the women in Pelasgian days what were the 
rites to be celebrated in honour of Demeter. Herodotus is 
speaking more especially of the special festival in her 
honour called the Thesmophoria, where she was worshipped 
as giving sanction to certain Thesmoi or laws upon which 

1 Works and Days, 298. 2 Athenaeus, x. 9. 3 ii. 171. 


the family and other social facts were based. This some 
what vague statement of Herodotus is at least sufficiently 
definite to show that he regarded Demeter s worship as 
among the most ancient forms of divine service. Before 
Homer or Hesiod sang, Demeter was ; and the sentiment of 
awe which consecrated her goddess and mistress of what 
men held most sacred and most dear had existed in Greece 
from the very first. Before the poets came, a whole ritual 
must have grown up, the significance of which Demeter s 
peasant worshippers could not expound. These were men 
whose only argument was the observance of times and 
ceremonies, and who knew no higher logic than the telling 
of a tale about this god or that. 1 Hesiod, who first 
chronicles in full their stories of Demeter s parentage, and 
who first though briefly mentions the grief that came when 
her daughter was stolen away from earth, must surely some 
where indicate a deep and solemn view of the fair-haired 
Demeter s power upon the lives of men. Of this deeper 
view there are traces, though it may be necessary, if we 
would clearly understand, to read between his lines. 

In place of Homer s phrase, " the fruits of Demeter," 2 
Hesiod prefers to speak of "the holy fruits of Demeter." 3 
This adjective holy contains a first and half articulated 
expression of the mystery and awe which overpowered the 
pious adorers at Eleusis when it found its full utterance in 
ritual. Another hint is given by Hesiod that throws light 
upon this homely farm-religion of the early days in Greece. 

1 There is a certain illogical logic about all mythologies. Where philo 
sophy leaps at once to abstract terms and speaks of an omniscient, omni 
potent, omnipresent deity mythology, aiming at the same notions, proceeds, 
agreeably to its nature, by positive imagery in place of negative afo-tractions. " 
C. F. Keary, The Vikings, p. 61. 

2 Iliad, xiii. 322. 3 Works and Days, 466. 


I mean where he says, in words not always rightly under 
stood, that a field new ploughed and newly sown has power 
to charm a babe and still his cries. That is, if the babe be 
only laid upon it, no doubt. This receives illustration from 
various customs not yet extinct in Europe, which bring the 
new sowing of seed and the tending and growth of young 
babes into one and the same scheme. Hesiod, just after 
dwelling upon the above point in regard to stilling young 
children, proceeds, " Now make prayer to Zeus and to holy 
Demeter, that they may make perfect and heavy of growth 
the hallowed fruits of Demeter." 1 Plainly the inscrutable 
power which gives and withholds abundance in harvests can 
somehow hinder or help the health and growth of a babe. 
Every language and every country works out in some way 
the old story and utters with a new voice the time-worn 
truth that the growth of babes and children is one with the 
growth of trees and flowers and grass. 2 All fruitfulness, 
every species of multiplication in the land, is linked to that 
of every other kind by some mystical bond which makes 
one of them all, and binds the growth of men and of things 
into a single and continuous scheme. This belief, now 
argued out by science and subjected to scrutiny in all its 
parts and all its meanings, was represented among the 
peoples of all times in a thousand quaint customs of the 
countryside, many of which survive among the innocent 
and unlearned to-day. Akin to all these customs, but 

1 The whole passage runs as follows : 


veios aXe^tdpTj Traiduv UKTj\r]Tipa 

^X^ffdai 5e v Aii xfloju y, ^r]fj.r]TepL 6 ayvy, 
(KTe\ta (3pi6eiv A-rj/j.rjrepos itpbv aKrriv. 

Works and Days, 463-466. 
2 See Mannhardt s posthumously printed essay " Korn und Kind." 


fuller of the perfect truth of poetry which is beauty, and 
beauty, and once again beauty, was the service of fair- 
crowned Demeter in Greece by chosen spirits of Greece, 
and when Rome came, in Rome. 

Plainly the godhead of Demeter and her kinship with 
the queen and king of darkness were bound up somehow 
with the deeper and more mysterious suggestions made ever 
and anon by Hesiod. Homer knew nothing of all this, and 
accordingly Homer knows little or nothing of the real god 
head of Demeter. The first complete account of the myth 
of Demeter is contained in a poem of later date than the 
Iliad) the Odyssey, or the writings of Hesiod. This is the 
Homeric Hymn to Demeter, 1 called Homeric not because it 
was written by Homer but as the work of some poet versed 
in Homeric lore, and its probable date is about 600 B.C. five 
hundred hexameter lines written at least 2500 years ago, 
which remained absolutely unknown from the fourteenth to 
the end of the eighteenth century of our era. Mr. Sidney 
Colvin 2 has most aptly described this beautiful poem, and 
gives the following account of its substance and style : 
" There is nothing liturgical about it ; it is rather in the 
nature of a ballad, recited, it may be, by a patriotic minstrel of 
Eleusis to the groups of strangers who thronged to the city, 
or in competition with other such ballads at one of those 
poetical tournaments which formed part, we know, of many 
of the Greek religious festivals. I say a minstrel of Eleusis, 
because of his special tone of pride in the town and locality, 
and because he ignores Athens, while his Ionian dialect 
would be quite proper to an Attic rhapsodist. It is their 

1 About one hundred years ago Ruhnken received it for publication 
from a learned friend who stumbled upon it in an old monkish library at 

2 Cornhill Magazine, vol. xxxiii. June 1876, "A Greek Hymn." 


ballad character, and the community they have of style and 
diction with the Iliad and Odyssey, which have earned the 
title of Homeric for a certain number of Greek hymns or 
narrative poems in praise of particular divinities which have 
come down to us. This is the most beautiful of them all." 
This beautiful Hymn contains, according to the view set 
forth below, at least three ballads or stories, and the incon 
sistencies and roughnesses in its composition spring from a 
too conscientious effort to make the three into one. At the 
time when this Hymn was composed, or perhaps we should 
say compiled, many interesting facts and fancies about 
Demeter and her worship were at the author s command. 
The most conspicuous of these are two stories telling 
how Aidoneus carried off Proserpina, and of Proserpina s 
final restoration to Demeter. One of these may be called 
the Iliad story, since it is based upon the Iliad con 
ception of the world of death as an underworld. The other 
may be called the Odyssean version, since according to it 
Persephone was spirited away into the land beyond Cim 
merian darkness, whither Odysseus went to talk with dead 
Tiresias. Over and above these two accounts of Perse 
phone s disappearance and reappearance, that had woven 
themselves into consistency upon the lips of men, there 
were other tales inextricably connected, now in one way and 
now in another, with the two just named, which gave to the 
bereavement of Demeter and the robbery of Persephone a 
local habitation and a name. These stories may be con 
ceived of as having been as numerous as were the temples 
of Demeter, but certainly the one that men most heeded 
was the one which localised the whole myth at Eleusis in 
Attica. Eleusis is about twelve miles from Athens, but the 
fertile and extensive Thriasian and Rarian plains, the first 


one towards Athens, and the second one towards Megara, 
surround it and make it a natural home for the goddess of 
grain. It is evident that many generations of simple people 
on the farms of the Thriasian and the Rarian plains in 
Attica had been absorbed in the due worship of the goddess 
Demeter. Gradually, in this direction and in that, con 
nected accounts of the goddess and of the Eleusinian rites 
in her honour grew up and found credence. The most 
pleasing and popular of these were woven into one narrative, 
which forms the beautiful and yet most bewildering Hymn in 

The perseverance of Dr. Wegener has triumphed over 
the author of this Hymn to Demeter. What the poet joined 
together Wegener has triumphantly put asunder. Too 
anxious, like many compilers of religious articles and creeds, 
that no one concerned should find cause of offence in his 
work, the author, in spite of the poetic exquisiteness of his 
touch, left such inconsistencies and patent incongruities that 
each tradition can with more or less certainty be disentangled 
from the others ; and this is what Dr. Wegener has done. 1 

The Iliad story of the carrying off of Proserpina is 
briefly as follows : Zeus conspired with Gaia, the earth, to 
get Persephone, his child by Demeter, for his brother 
Aidoneus to wife. Earth snared the smiling maid by a 
most fatal blossom called the narcissus. Persephone 
reached forth to pluck the wondrous flower, and lo ! the 
ground opened, and Aidoneus dragged the shrieking girl 
down to his underworld home. Hecate meanwhile was 
sitting in her cave thinking delicate thoughts. She and 
she alone could see the robber on his downward way, and 
she it was who made haste with the news to Demeter. The 

1 Philologus, xxxv. (1876) pp. 227-254. 


bereaved mother stands at Zeus s throne and asks for resti 
tution. Zeus urges that Aidoneus is a worthy husband for 
Persephone. Then Demeter shuns Olympus, and resorts 
to the fields and towns of men. She retires into her temple 
(at Eleusis), where she passes a whole year. The world is 
stricken in all the produce and increase of earth. Zeus, 
forced by the cutting off of all fruits, sends Iris first, and 
then the other gods. All others fail, and Rhea, Demeter s 
mother, last of all goes to her and she makes peace. Zeus 
grants a compromise. Two-thirds of the year Persephone 
is to stay with her mother and see the glad light of day, but 
for one-third of each twelve months, during the sad season 
of winter and darkness, the daughter and mother are to be 
parted, Persephone is to be with her husband Aidoneus. 
Appeased at last, the mother welcomes back her child, 
and earth once more covers itself with the holy fruits of 

The second version, told in the same breath by the 
Homeric author of Demeter s Hymn, is the Odyssean 
version, and it must be admitted that the landscape of 
Eleusis does not suit the demands of this form of the story 
so well as it does the Iliad tale just given, but on the other 
hand this account of the story brings in the pomegranate 
seed a mystical emblem often seen in the hands of Demeter 
and Persephone at Eleusis and elsewhere. There is much 
to tempt an unwary person here ; certainly the rash would 
incline to pronounce this Odyssean tale the older of the 
two. However this question of age be decided, there is no 
doubt as to a strong affinity with the Odyssey, not only in 
the Odyssean aspect of the tale which has yet to be given, 
but in the whole of the poem. Mr. Colvin has descried 
and inimitably described the likeness as follows : " It (the 


Hymn) moves with much of the same easy grandeur as the 
Odyssey, it has the same romantic charm, and delights us 
with similar pictures of heroic manners, of chiefs trusted by 
their people, of beautiful unabashed virgins, of noble hos 
pitality to strangers. Like the Odyssey, it tells us of gods 
going to and fro among mortals, unrecognised till they 
choose; of disguises and feigning answers and sudden 

And now, to turn from the Odyssean touch in the whole 
poem to what has been talked of as the Odyssean version of 
the carrying off of Proserpina, that runs as follows : On a 
flowery mead close by Oceanus, Persephone is gathering 
flowers with the daughters of Oceanus. But a sudden fear 
arrives Hades dashes across the flowery field with his 
chariot and spirits the maiden away. Zeus knows nothing 
of the deed, but is busy in a far off temple accepting 
sacrifice from men. The robber king of death meanwhile 
drives ever onward toward the darkling West. Persephone 
cries ever and anon, but most of all when at the very last of 
the weary journey she sees that she must lose the sight of 
day. Hades comforts her by telling her of the honours she 
shall have as queen among the dead ; and furthermore, that 
fate may never take her from him quite, he secretly thrusts 
a pomegranate seed into her mouth. Demeter hears her 
daughter scream, and rends her garments, and wraps her 
shoulders in the garb of mourning. Thus, seeking and ask 
ing, for nine days long does she pass over land and sea. 
None of Persephone s playmates, not one of all the gods 
and men, can tell her who the robber is, or where her 
daughter tarries. So therefore she goes to the all-seeing 
sun, and he shows to her the utmost regard and kindness. 
Filled with pity, he tells her who the robber is, and whither 


Persephone has been carried. Then Demeter in wrath 
betakes her to her Eleusinian temple. Zeus meanwhile 
hears her wrongs, and sends his messenger Hermes with 
instant reprimand, and with command that Hades make 
restitution. Hades, the Zeus of the netherworld, made no 
retort in anger, but smiled serenely and bade Persephone 
do as the word of Hermes commanded. He was sure, 
through the fatal seed of the pomegranate which she had 
taken, that Persephone would not forsake him utterly. 
Hermes accordingly leads her back to her mother, who is 
glad of her return, but grieves to find what an unbreakable 
spell from Hades is on her. 

These two legends are curiously but not at all indis- 
tinguishably interwoven through the whole of the first and 
the last portions of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. If 
in no other material detail, they coincide in taking for 
granted the existence of a temple of Demeter. This temple 
is not necessarily at Eleusis. Both of these versions would 
suit any other centre for the worship of Demeter just as well 
or ill as they suit Eleusis, for it is possible to substitute 
another name, and thus, so to speak, the venue of the myth 
can be changed with the alteration of one word. The 
second or Odyssean story lays the scene of the robbery in a 
far off land, which is certainly neither Eleusis nor any other 
centre of Greek life, and as for the place whither the stricken 
Demeter retires, it is simply spoken of as her temple, and 
no local details are given, but only the name Eleusis. The 
Iliad tale, on the contrary, might be supposed to consecrate 
Eleusis, not only as the place where Demeter s temple was, 
but as the actual theatre of the robbery of Proserpina. But 
Cnidus (whither the story wandered by sea from Thessaly 
no later perhaps than it went to Eleusis) would answer just 


as well. The same may be said of any other place where 
Demeter was worshipped, and where there was a rock-form 
ation suggestive of the rending and yawning of the earth, 
and a smiling and fertile plain near by for the flower gather 
ing of Persephone. Accordingly neither of these stories of 
the carrying off of Proserpina necessarily localises the myth 
and worship of the two goddesses, mother and daughter, at 
Eleusis. But towards the hundredth line of the Homeric 
Hymn a strange thing suddenly happens. Just as the earth 
opened when Persephone reached out her hand to gather 
the fatal narcissus, so when the reader seeks to follow onward 
the narrative thread of Persephone s robbery, woven together 
out of two strands, he finds that it becomes tangled suddenly 
from one line to the next, and, before he knows it, he is 
dragged down to where sorrowing Demeter sits on the 
Laughless Stone by the Eleusinian well called Maidenswell. 
The way of Persephone s story comes to a sudden chasm, 
and a legend of different quality, though not less beautiful, 
is disclosed. 

This is the purely and most sweetly Attic tale of Deme- 
ter s stay at Eleusis. Here we have united together certain 
local traditions that grew up at and near Eleusis in the early 
days when Athens and Eleusis were on so nearly equal a 
footing as independent states, each exercising a local leader 
ship, that they with ten others could eventually become the 
twelve members of the Attic confederation if it were sure 
that this word suited the politics of those earliest days. 
This interjected Eleusinian tale of Demeter s stay at Eleusis 
gives the needed consecration the only one respected in 
those early days to the temple and observances of Demeter 
at Eleusis. By this tradition is founded the Eleusinian 
claim to be the greatest centre for Demeter -worship in 


Greece. This story, however, is not told in one way only 
any more than that of Persephone s taking away. Here 
again the scrutiny of minute perseverance discovers various 
inconsistencies and a double version. As the points of 
difference seem less vital here, they shall for the most part 
be given in one narrative, while a few matters can be kept 
till the end for consideration. 

The Eleusinian legend of how Demeter came to dwell at 
Eleusis is then substantially as follows : Near a well close 
to the Acropolis of Eleusis the sorrowing goddess Demeter 
rested from exhaustion, for she had been long in search of 
her lost Persephone. What was the name of the well, Par- 
thenos (Maidenswell) or Callichoros (Dancewell) ? However 
that may be decided, the goddess rested there on the Laugh- 
less Stone, the Agelastos Petra. Was Demeter disguised as 
an old woman, or was she there in the undisguised majesty 
of her divine beauty ? The stories varied ; but in this they 
agree, that the four daughters of the king of Eleusis, 
Celeus son of Eleusin by name, came thither with pitchers 
of bronze that they might draw water from the well. They 
question the goddess, who tells them a tale neither plain 
nor unvarnished. She has been enslaved by men who 
kidnapped her in Crete. 1 When her captor landed at Thori- 

1 The use of Crete in this feigned narrative is by some supposed to amount 
to a recognition of Crete as an early cradle of the worship of Demeter. It 
should, however, be remembered that Crete was the most obvious of places 
to mention in any invented tale of seafarers and seafaring. This is 
proved by its constant occurrence in feigned adventures in the Odyssey 
(xiii. 256 and ff. ; xix. 171 and ff. ), and by the way in which it often creeps 
into the Homeric MSS. , either instead of places of less frequent resort or in 
addition to them (cf. Odyssey, i. 93, where two verses about Crete are added ; 
ibid. 285, where Zenodotus substituted Crete for Sparta ; the same thing 
occurs in Odyssey, ii. 214 and 359. See La Roche s critical edition, 
Teubner, 1867. Something of the kind is reported at Odyssey, iv. 702). 
The real proof of a widespread and very early belief in Crete as one 
of the starting-points of the Demeter myth is in Hesiod s localising in 


cus in Attica she made her escape under cover of night. 
Now she wishes to be taken into service. The girls go to 
their mother, Metanira, and return with a message that 
she will be welcomed as their brother Demophoon s nurse. 
According to one story Demeter, in the undisguised splen 
dour of her divinity, dazzled Metanira, the babe s mother, 
who arose as if to give the place of honour to the entering 
guest, whose more than human skill was required to deliver 
the infant Demophoon from the evil spells cast over his life 
by a wicked nurse. The other way of telling the tale makes 
Demeter none the less a good fairy, only her gentle offices 
are given in the disguise of a grief-stricken woman over 
burdened with years and misfortunes. Thus disguised she 
takes the boy the child of Metanira and Celeus latest born 
and gives him the care without which he could never have 
been brought to man s estate. Of whatever nature the god 
dess s service was, all tales agree in saying that the child grew 
apace, without the ordinary food of mortal babes, fondly 
cherished upon her immortal bosom and lulled to rest. At 
this point a curious turn is taken by the myth, which relates 
that Demeter sought to make the boy Demophoon immortal, 
and to that end, when all the house was asleep, set him in 
the flames. One -night she was watched either by one of 
the sisters or by the mother Metanira. Catching sight of 
Demophoon in the flames, his indiscreet and misguided 

Crete ( Theogony, 969 and ff. ) the commerce between Demeter and lasion, 
reported but not localised in the fifth Odyssey, vv. 125 and if. This is 
confirmed by a reference to Bacchylides (Bergk, fr. 64), where the rape of 
Proserpina is localised in Crete. Common report, however, had it with 
equal certainty that Proserpina was carried off from the fertile fields of 
Sicily. I think it therefore unjustifiable to appeal to the early poets as 
giving an undisputed pre-eminence in Demeter-worship to Cretan tradi 
tions. Ariadne a sort of Persephone came from Crete, it will be 
remembered, and she has little or no direct connection with Demeter. 
See Appendix X. 


kinswoman screamed aloud, whereupon the goddess, having 
laid hold upon him, was moved to sudden anger and let him 
fall. The family is awakened, and the women minister to 
the affrighted child. Then Demeter takes her departure, 
but not, as the previous episode would seem to suggest, in 
anger. No ; she waits to give full commands concerning 
the building of her temple at Eleusis, and she enters into all 
the rites, the orgies, as they were called, which were to be 
celebrated in her service there. These commands, accord 
ing to one story, were laid by the goddess upon Metanira 
and her daughters, who did not call upon Celeus and his sons, 
among whom was Triptolemus, until morning dawned. 
The intervening hours through all the night were spent by 
the women in propitiating the goddess. The alternative 
version is that Demeter on the eve of departure spoke to the 
women of her worship and its orgies, and then summoned 
King Celeus and his sons Triptolemus, Diocles, Eumolpus 
and Polyxenus, and gave to them all needful commands for 
the building of her temple and the institution of her 

As points of divergence arose, they have been indicated 
in the above summary of the Eleusinian story of Demeter. 
Two main versions there plainly were, but even after 
making allowance for such a variation, there remain diffi 
culties to be cleared up. First of all the whole story of 
Demeter s seeking to make Demophoon immortal by im 
mersing him in fire seems incongruous and incomprehens 
ible. This fact, taken together with the identity not only 
in substance of the account of the fire-baptism of Demophoon 
by Demeter, and one preserved elsewhere 1 of the fire-baptism 

1 Apollodorus, Dibliotheca, iii. 13, 6. Compare the account of Demo- 
phoon s fire-baptism given also by Apollodorus, i. 5, 4. The story suits 


of Achilles attempted by his mother Thetis and foiled by his 
father Peleus, removes one difficulty. The whole fire episode 
was probably imposed upon this story ; it has no place there, 
at least not in the form in which it has been transmitted. 
And this smooths the way for clearing the second difficulty. 
It is plain that there is a surplus of proper names here. 
The king of Eleusis, in whose house Demeter tarried, is 
not in all accounts of the myth called Celeus. Panyasis l 
names the Eleusinian king Eleusis or Eleusin, 2 whereas in 
this Homeric Hymn the king is Celeus, and his father s name 
is Eleusin. Moreover the youthful hero worshipped at 
Eleusis, and especially in the Rarian plain near by, as 
Demeter s favoured child, whom she had instructed in 
the arts of farm labour, is Triptolemus, not Demophoon. 
This circumstance would lead us to expect Triptolemus to 
take Demophoon s place in the story of Eleusis given in the 
Homeric Hymn, and such is the case in what are considered 
later, but may represent earlier versions of it. 3 Now if from 
the Homeric Hymn be subtracted the fire-baptism of Demo 
phoon, there is nothing left for Demophoon in all the story. 
It looks as if Demophoon and his father Celeus were 
interlopers in this Eleusinian tale, and it is not im 
possible that their presence here may be a chapter of early 

Achilles, and does not suit Demophoon. Thetis wished to make him 
immortal by burning out the mortal part which he had from his father. 
We are not told how the thrusting of Demophoon "like a torch into fire" 
was supposed to make him of mortal father and mortal mother superior 
to mortality. Furthermore Achilles never tasted mother s milk, and 
hence his first name was Ligyon. A point is made of Demophoon s not 
taking the breast, but nothing remarkable comes of it. The whole 
Achillean fire-legend loses reality in the alien story of Eleusis. 

1 Apollodorus, Bibliotheca, i. 5, 2 (where Pherecydes is quoted as saying 
Eleusis was a son of Oceanus and Ge. In these tales Eleusis figures as 
Cecrops and Cychreus do at Athens and Salamis) ; Hyginus, Fab. 147. 

2 Cf. Pausanias, I. xxxviii. 7, end. 

3 Hyginus, Fab. 147, who was followed bv Ovid. 


religious history in disguise. Supposing the religious im 
portance of Phliasian Celeae l to have been overshadowed 
and all but clean forgot in very early days, we should 
then have a survival of it if the local hero of Celeae was 
Celeus. Accordingly the supposition would be that, before 
Eleusis and its legends completely won the day, there was 
an interregnum, a period when neither Eleusis nor Celeae 
nor Andania 2 had appropriated exclusively the story of 
Demeter s sorrows upon earth. What variety of names and 
episodes there may have been in all these rival tales cannot 
be known. But the uncertainty of many of the important 
proper names in the Attic story as it has reached us is 
most significant. For Metanira some give Cothonea ; 3 the 
name Demophoon crowds Triptolemus Demeter s real 
favourite into the position of an elder brother; and 
Celeus is invited into the Eleusinian story of Demeter, 
taking the place of Eleusin, who becomes his father. Celeus 
could easily (in a compromise-version) fill the unimportant 
place of the child s father Eleusin in the narrative, but it 
was not so easy to supplant Triptolemus, a local demi-god 
whose worship was almost on a par with that of Demeter 
herself. This is the reason why Demophoon appears in 
this story only to disappear, and indeed there is very little 
beyond the record of a Demophoon, son of Theseus, to 
show where Demophoon came from. 4 Of him we have but 
the name, though it is certain that in some early story he 
played a leading part, for the name reappears in Euripides 

1 Pausanias, II. xiv. 2 Ibid. IV. iii. 10. 

3 Pausanias (I. xxxviii. 3) says that Pamphos " Kara ravra Kal "O^pos " 
calls the daughters of Celeus, Diogenia, Pammerope, and Saisara. These 
names are unknown in our Homeric poems. 

4 Hyginus tells of the nine journeys to the shore near Amphipolis 
in Thrace of Phyllis, betrayed by Demophoon, Fab. 59. Cf. Ovid, 
Her. ii. 


Heradidae^ where a Demophoon figures as king of Athens, 
and indeed elsewhere frequently but with no defined asso 
ciations. The original Demophoon, unlike Celeus, could 
hardly have belonged to Celeae. 

The composer of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter 
escaped some embarrassment by leaving out entirely the 
great Eleusinian myth of Triptolemus. The record of 
this, which has been preserved, is chiefly in the shape 
of pictures and a few fragmentary lines of poetry from 
a lost play of Sophocles. Plainly Triptolemus, the hero- 
prince of Eleusis, was adopted by Demeter; he was her 
son in whom she was well pleased, and through whom 
she granted to men all manner of good things above and 
beyond what it was his especial province and privilege 
to give, the boon of plenteous grain, and the knowledge 
needed for its planting and due preservation. 1 Temples 
were built and altars established for the grateful worship 
of Triptolemus, the especial favourite not of Demeter 
only but also of Persephone. Especially sacred to him was 
the plain where first he showed men how to plant and 
plough, the Rarian plain, which was set apart as holy 
ground for ever, and from which was derived the grain for 
making the cakes offered up in the Eleusinian temples. 
Its produce came as a part of the revenue of the Eleusinian 
temple of Demeter, and one of the peculiar duties of the 
priests in charge at Eleusis was to keep this plain of Tripto 
lemus free from all pollution. 

Thus by examining closely the Homeric Hymn more 

1 Whether, as I have perhaps too positively suggested above, Triptolemus 
should play Demophoon s vacated part in the Demeter myth is another 
question. On this whole point M. Lenormant s article " Ceres," in Darem- 
berg and Saglio s Dictionnaire des antiques grecques et romaines, may 
be profitably consulted. 


even than a phase of the religious activity of the early Attic 
mind has come to light. Stories grouped themselves about 
Demeter at Eleusis which first revealed the greatness of 
the goddess herself, next the bond between her and her 
child Persephone. With this was involved the worship of 
Aidoneus more or less identified with the local hero 
Eubouleus and Persephone, rulers in the undiscovered 
country of the dead. Quite unexpectedly at the end of the 
story, where the immemorial observances in Eleusinian wor 
ship are receiving sanction and institution from Demeter, it 
is borne in upon the attentive reader that Demophoon and 
Triptolemus do not belong to the same group of local 
traditions, and thus a glimpse at the local history of early 
Eleusis and of some neighbouring shrine, say its Pelopon- 
nesian neighbour Celeae, is given. Furthermore Triptolemus, 
and perhaps, in his own forgotten story at home, Demo 
phoon also, represent the beneficent influence of Demeter 
the mother of corn and the goddess of beautiful abundance. 
This beneficence of hers, this overflowing generosity in 
her nature, provides for more than creature comforts, it 
makes for what is highest and best in home existence and 
civilised life. 

One noticeable touch of poetic truth in the story of 
Demeter at Eleusis is the way in which woman s love and 
care and need for woman are portrayed. When Demeter is 
sitting all forlorn the daughters of Celeus come upon her, 
cheerful and careless maidens sent forth to fetch water. 
The spectacle of self-forgetful sorrow which the goddess 
presents seems to transform them ; they ask her why she 
tarries in so lonely a place, quite aloof from the town. She 
ought to be in some home, they urge, for there in the 
shadowing halls dwell women of her age and older too. 


They will be kind in word and in deed. Such is the tender 
promise of consolation which the maidens give, and the 
promise is fulfilled ; Demeter is as much loved as she her 
self is loving in the house of Eleusinian Celeus, her home 
on earth. Through the whole story men are kept in the 
background. lambe, the wayward daughter of the house, 
cheers Demeter with her gibes, and Metanira refreshes her 
not with wine, but water perfumed with herbs and made 
more strong and sweeter for the tired taste with barley. 
Demeter is thus made whole by her own bounteous gift of 
grain. Silent and eloquently sad was Demeter, as she 
moved with the gentle maidens towards their home. Not 
a sound was heard as they went, nothing save her footfall 
and the dulled rustle of her heavy raiment, dark with the 
colour of mourning. Ministered to at last by these kindly 
womenfolk she smiled, she laughed, and her spirit was glad 
within her. 

This pathetic picture lends a divine sanction, as it were, 
to the need which woman in trial has for kindly women, 
and throws light upon one whole side of the worship of 
Demeter. For Demeter, as the upholder of the ties of 
marriage, was called Thesmophoros, and a festival in her 
honour called the Thesmophoria was celebrated by women 
and women only. To this worship some of the very 
noblest aspects of the Eleusinian service would seem to be 
allied. In his little -known picture of the Women at the 
Thesmophoria, Aristophanes has made abundantly merry at 
the expense of Demeter s Thesmophorian woman s festival, 
but for all that it remains more than ever sacred. 

How is it possible to translate into modern words the 
pious aspirations of the old-time farmers who worshipped 
Demeter at Eleusis? How can the divinity of Demeter 


be made comprehensible or even plausible to us ? Perhaps 
not at all, but yet there is a charm in the goddess s simple 
story of trial and triumph through sorrow that seems to 
claim the hearts of men, no matter how alien to Greece 
their birth and breeding may chance to be. The central, 
the efficacious and communicable grace of Demeter s story 
is the love she bears Persephone. This is a home tie, and 
through this Demeter becomes the home goddess. It 
sometimes seems that the whole range of ideas dwelt upon 
in Demeter s service by Greeks is covered by that beautiful 
and nobly, broadly English word harvest -home. Under 
the mastery of the home impulse, of love for her own, the 
great goddess s whole beneficent nature gradually unfolded 
itself. If you should say that Aphrodite l loved to be loved, 
I might by way of contrast maintain that Demeter asked 
only and chiefly to love, to lavish her care and minute pains 
upon some one who needed protection. 

The daughter thus beloved of Demeter was a wondrous 
creature, in no way resembling that dread Persephone of 
Homeric song. A child of Demeter and not of the awful 
Styx, her face bears the look of a flower freshly opened. 
The gentle and shyly smiling curves of her lips show the 
lines sometimes seen in blossoms, delicately closed because 
the day is done. The maiden s only care is for flowers, and 
the unmeasured love of her mother is her shield against all 
harms, until the fatal hour when Hades comes and robs 
her of the pleasant light of day, snatching her away from 
joy in flowery things. There is an almost adequate repre 
sentation of Persephone the flower maiden, the dear and 
delicate child in whom dwelt the graces, the perfumes and 

1 For a further presentation of the relation between these two divinities 
see chapter vii. below, on Aphrodite at Paphos, near the end. 


the colours, all that earth shows forth in all the lilies of 
all her fields. This representation is a statue of whitest 
Parian marble, so small that were it less perfect it would 
be what Mr. Pater so prettily calls it, the merest toy. 
This wondrous figure was found by Sir Charles Newton 
within the sanctuary of Demeter and Persephone one of 
their most ancient sanctuaries, that of Cnidus on the 
Triopian promontory in south-west Asia Minor. The 
first and untried loveliness of a maiden unacquainted as yet 
with grief and untested by the world has passed into this 
most delicate Praxitelean work. 

No greater contrast can be imagined than that between 
this statue of Persephone and another found near it, and 
like it to be seen now in the British Museum. This second 
statue is possibly that of an aged and careworn priestess of 
Demeter. But at the same time in it we have before us 
the embodiment of Demeter herself, as she was in act of 
going sad and despairing to the house of Celeus. Upon 
this speaking marble the unwitting artist, under the uncon 
scious inspiration of the sad sweet story, has set the 
impress of sorrow, and with it a touch of that remembrance 
of happier things, which is "sorrow s crown of sorrow." 
Here truly is the goddess Demeter, 1 in outward semblance 
like her priestess, a stricken woman well advanced in years, 

1 See M. Lenormant in his article " Ce"res" above referred to : " On 
parle d une De me ter Fpcua (Hesych. s.v.} ou vieille femme ; ce surnom 
fait allusion a la forme que la de esse avait prise en arrivant a Eleusis et 
pendant son sejour dans la maison de Celeos. II semblerait en re"sulter 
que Ton a quelquefois adore 1 , et par suite repre sente De me ter sous ce 
de"guisement emprunte". M. Newton (Discov. at Halic., etc., p. 399), 
M. R. Foerster (Raub der Kara, p. 248), et M. Heuzey (Monum. de 
I Assoc. des Etudes Grecques, p. 10), ont me me cru reconnaltre la De me ter 
Graia dans une statue de vieille femme en pied, d un travail fort remar- 
quable et d un accent tres e leve , qui provient des ruines du sanctuaire des 
grandes dresses a Cnide (Newton, op. cit. planche Ivi.) " 


but noble in her mien. The folds of her apparel, the eager 
forward leaning of her head, tell of vain seeking and un 
availing grief. Here stands the mater dolorosa mourning 
for her child. But somehow hers is not a passive woe, for 
her there is still room for hope. There is therefore a 
strenuousness in Demeter s sorrow unlike the total self- 
surrender to grief of many sweet portrayals of the fainting 
Mother Mary at the Cross. 

For Demeter there was still hope, and while she waited 
all her sorrow and the fruitlessness of her search only 
served to bring into active life and motion her impulse to 
do good. Many a home has been blessed and cheered by 
some such selfless presence as was sorrowing Demeter s at 
Eleusis. Deprived of the home love, and of the light of 
her sweet daughter, Demeter became the good fairy and 
the friend of the Eleusinian home of Celeus, the faithful 
and all-wise nurse and instructress of the son of the house, 
and through them the devoted friend and helper of all the 
homes of men on earth. 1 For Triptolemus, with the know 
ledge of agriculture, gave the laws of Demeter to men. 
These, the goddess s rules for right living, were no doubt 
preserved, with momentary glimpses at one of the most 
elevating of the many beautiful myths of early Attica, by 
Sophocles in his lost play called Triptolemus. We almost 
see the kindly goddess appearing on the scene and giving 
her beneficent injunctions to young Triptolemus, for a 
learned expounder of the eleventh Olympian Ode of Pindar 
quotes from the play, which lay open before him, these 
solemn words, " Set my commandments on the tablets of 

1 Ovid brings out the human side of the story by an artifice used in 
Euripides Electro.. He discrowns Celeus, and brings Demeter to a poor 
man s home. 


thy heart." But we really know nothing except that these 
words occurred in the play. The sacred words may have 
been given by Demeter to Triptolemus, or quoted from her 
by Triptolemus to some favoured man. It would be best 
of all to know what the commandments were. Perhaps 
some notion of their import is contained in the Pythagorean 
rules of life which Porphyry 1 puts into the mouth of 

"Thou shalt honour thy father and thy mother, thou 
shalt make glad the gods with offerings, and do no wanton 
harm to beasts." Upon some such commandments as 
these Demeter based her laws, and the penalty for disobey 
ing them was a withdrawal of her favour and a denial of 
all her good gifts. Our own Jewish fifth commandment is 
not very different from Demeter s, which required men to 
honour their parents in order that the earth might yield 
her increase. Before Demeter gave her gifts, wretched 
men, so say the poets, were forced to live upon acorns. 
The Demeter who preserved the homes and hearths of 
men from want, and sanctified the bonds of family life, was 
a noble type of divine womanhood, above and beyond all 
other types that Greek men worshipped, and the noblest of 
the three great Cnidian statues found by Sir Charles New 
ton is undoubtedly a representation of this Demeter. 
Mother of peace and giver of plenty, there she sits, the 
Lady Bountiful and Beautiful of Greece. Her gaze is now 
at last more nearly serene, but in it there is sadness as 
a memory of past sorrows. 2 The goddess has made her 

1 De Abstin. iv. 22. 

- As I see this statue, the sadness of its look is not overpowering. 
Hence I venture to differ from those who see in it Demeter Achaia, the 
mother of lamentations, so to say. If I understand Mr. Pater aright, I 
see it as he does. 


peace with evil and the power of death, and takes joy in 
such sweet communion with her child as the fates allowed. 
It would be too much to say that this Demeter smiles, but 
cheerfulness lurks half suppressed about her mouth, just as 
in her attitude there is relief and great repose in spite of 
something that seems almost to be constraint. A curious 
mingling of opposites there is both in her posture and her 
face. A cheerful look that tells of mystery and wherein lurks 
the memory of woe, a contradiction, as it were, between 
her eyes that are not glad, and the lower lines of mouth 
and chin that are not sorrowful. A posture of evident rest 
and yet an impression of bashfulness and almost of hesit 
ancy. These contrasting expressions existing side by side, 
hard to seize and harder still to describe, together with the 
manner of holding the head, and the .uneasy grace with 
which the limbs are disposed, are seen alike in the Demeter 
and the Persephone of Cnidus which are attributed to the 
Praxitelean School. There both mother and daughter are 
marked by these same family traits, a shyness which goes 
with all natures delicately noble and free from self-seeking, 
that shyness which men learn by wandering much alone, 
and musing oft when only the trees and the streams, only 
the green earth and her fruitful fields, are there to sym 
pathise and understand. 

On many vases and in some bas-reliefs it is hardly 
possible to distinguish Demeter from Persephone. This is 
as it should be according to the worship rendered them at 
Eleusis. Excepting in her days of thoughtless youth, before 
her trial came, Demeter s Persephone is Demeter s self 
twice told. During the third of every year, the wintry 
season when Persephone was the unwilling bride of Hades 
and abode with him in sadness, Demeter was forlorn. Joy 


came back to her with spring when Persephone was freed 
again to stay with her. Their sorrows and their joys, their 
life, their love, their happiness, are always one. If under 
Demeter s name be symbolised power to grow and bear 
full fruit inherent in each living thing, then Persephone 
may be called the outward blossoming into leaf and flower 
and fruit. But who shall surely say which of these two 
processes or powers is Demeter and which Persephone? 
Where does the domain of either begin or end ? Demeter 
and Persephone each represent the power to grow and the 
process of growth. Of these two elements commingled is 
their soul, which is one though it dwells in two bodies. 
Both are two aspects of one and the same fact in nature, 
and each is the incarnation in her joy of the yearly burst 
of springtide life on earth, and of the glad abundance of 
the riper year, while in the sorrows suffered alike by each 
is shown the yearly march of living things towards death. 
Each of these goddesses, linking her happiness to sorrow 
and rising out of grief to gladness, bears the testimony of 
her being to the indissoluble link that joins life to death 
and death to life ; while the unfathomable love that joins 
them both, and makes them live one life when they are 
sundered just as when they are together, this mirrors for us 
that unity which pervades the world and makes all growth 
and all life a blossoming from the unknown depths of ever- 
fruitful love tokens of the "nevei- dying flowers of joy 
eternal," l given for a space and for a space withdrawn. 

i Perpetui fiori dell eterna letizia. Dante, Par. xix. 22. 



THE goddess Persephone, like many tragic heroines of 
lore mortal mould, whose mischances moved Athenian 
icarts in the theatre of Dionysus, loved light and life. The 
queen of the netherworld tarried in her realm of darkness, 
longing always for the upper earth and its bright ray. 
Nevertheless she was the wife of Hades, and stayed in his 
underworld for one third of every year. This bestowal of 
the loveliest life divine, even for a brief season, on the 
fellowship of the dead or, if you will, this transfiguration 
of Homer s death-dealing goddess of the dead into a creature 
so lovely and so loving that she charms alike and com 
forts the realms of life and death indicates a progress. 
The wondrous flower -change suffered by Demeter s 
daughter images a widened and deepened view of the life 

This progress began even in those minds from which 
the Homeric poems sprang, but here was only its beginning. 
Homer s Elysium was but a shadowy and merely painless 
place of abode when compared with the islands of the 
blest of the latter-day Greeks. Such satisfactions as Homer 
granted in that neutral-tinted place to a favoured few were 


not a well-earned meed of righteousness, nor were the 
punishments of Tantalus or Sisyphus conceived of by 
Homer as more than shadows of their life on earth ; they 
were dim semblances of what those men of unworth suffered 
ere they died. 

The new Persephone, flower-changed from Persephone 
the dread, went down and lighted up the silent home where 
hitherto the spirits of men, of just alike and unjust, had led 
a shadowy life where joy laughed not but only smiled, 
where sorrow brought no pain. Men s ideas underwent a 
corresponding change, and we can read between the lines 
of the new legend of Eleusis l that a great revolution came 
to pass in the belief concerning immortality. Hand in 
hand with this there was, partly its cause and partly its 
result, an alteration in men s ideals of duty and perfection 
in the present life. 

The clearest and most musically devout expression of 
these new feelings and thoughts is found in Pindar, a poet 
of Boeotian Thebes, who flourished in the first half of the 
fifth century B.C. It is not surprising that a Theban should 
have spoken as one having authority about the life here 
after, since the transformation of religious belief in question 
was especially associated with Thebes through Dionysus. 
The more definite and substantial expectation of future 
rewards and punishments, to which the Greeks finally 
accustomed their meditations, was connected everywhere 
with the worship of Dionysus, a late -born god, whose 
Theban mother died at Thebes in Boeotia, that he might 
come to being. In Attica this changed point of view 
which Dionysus everywhere brought with him was associ- 

1 An interesting connection by way of derivation has been suggested 
between the words Eleusis and Elysium. 


ated not alone with him, but with a holy alliance sealed at 
Eleusis in secrecy and mystery between Demeter and 
Persephone, with Hades hovering near, on the one hand, 
and on the other this new godhead of Dionysus freshly 
come l to Greece from the north and east. 

From Thrace in the north, and from Phrygia, where his 
first worshippers called him by many names, but chiefly 
Sabazius, Dionysus brought much that was barbarous. 
And the barbarous and non-Hellenic quality of the new 
god made him a sad puzzle to the Homeric public. In 
the only extended and discriminating Homeric account of 
Dionysus, 2 his behaviour is represented as the reverse of 
courageous, and he is surnamed " mainomenos," "beside 
himself," or "crazed." The Greeks before Troy knew as 
little of Dionysus as of Demeter, and the ideal heroic 
quality was inconsistent with the worship of either divinity. 
The most that Homer s heroes did was to admit that 
Bacchus was a god, and to own a wholesome fear of scorn 
ing him. 

Lycurgus, the fierce Thracian, so runs the short and 
simple story of Homer, warred against the new divinity. 
He pursued the crazed young god, and drove him to fling 
himself into the ocean. In the depths of the sea Thetis 
showed him kindness, and kept him safe from the dread 
hatchet of Lycurgus, whose ferocity was finally punished by 
total blindness. In the eyes of a typically vigorous hero, 

1 Herodot. ii. 52 ; see also iv. 79. 

3 /Had, vi. 135 ; it is not uncommon to regard this, and that other 
Homeric place where Dionysus appears, as untergeschoben or suppositi 
tious. Until some knowledge is positively gained of the circumstances 
under which they made their way into the text, the whole question may 
be neglected. Whoever formulated these accounts had behind him or 
them a really established conception of the god, and this is what concerns 
the present inquiry. 


Ajax, let us say, Dionysus was disgraced by his incompetence 
for war if not by his flight, and no punishment miraculously 
overtaking the enemy could make him other than a crazed 
and cowering being. 1 Therefore it is not wonderful that 
this late -born god was not a favourite in the days of 
Homeric chivalry, so far as he was then known. 

The truth is that Dionysus was, from the outset, a god 
of contradictions. He represented death as well as life. 
He was a god of fiery manifestations, though born in the 
lowland plain of mountain-watered Nysa, and though he 
is constantly worshipped as the representative of abundant 
vegetation. He was attended by the seasons, by the 
nymphs of flowing waters and of growing trees, 2 by the 
Muses and by old Silenus the type of all things that flow 
upon the earth by the Satyrs, always half beasts and half 
men. A prophet divine, Dionysus was sometimes over 
come by his own gift of wine. The leader and inspirer of 
holy choral song, the god whose worship awakened and 

1 Whatever may be said of the Homeric conception of courage and 
cowardice, it cannot be successfully denied that a certain grotesqueness 
as of cowardice attached to some aspects of Dionysus as popularly con 
ceived. The jokes at his expense in the Frogs of Aristophanes are always 
harping on this string, and they certainly did not shock but pleased the 
people assembled to do him honour. 

2 Of course at the time when these personifications of the various 
movements and growths in nature sprang into being, there was nowhere 
any consciousness of the relation they bore to what we should distinguish 
from them as " the real things" or "the things themselves" ; they were 
the real things for those in whose imaginations they first sprang into 
being, and their confusing multiplicity and elusive nature reproduce the 
confusion which lies upon the shifting face of woodlands, streams, and 
meadows. After generations had dreamed and talked of these baffling 
wildwood creatures, at a time when there was a conscious analysis of 
popular stories, and a systematic attempt to revive ancient belief, we find 
the poet Callimachus giving the true account of what nymphs were. In 
the Hymn to Delos, w. 82 and ff. , he exclaims : " O Muses, tell me truly, 
goddesses mine, did oak-trees then come to be when the nymphs were 
born ? Nymphs are glad when showers bring increase to the oaks, nymphs 
are sad when the oak-trees have lost their leaves." 


sustained the loftiest strains of sacred tragedy, was himself 
amid the brawls of leering drunkards, and his unreproving 
presence sanctioned all the worst excesses bred of unmixed 
wine. His Maenads and his Bassarids, when they wandered 
off to honour him by penance in the wilderness, were often 
seized by frenzy fits, that made his name a signal for most 
murderous deeds of harm, and yet he was a saviour god 
who suffered death and insult every year to redeem man 
kind. Such was the conflict of elements in this new divinity. 
With wandering tribes Dionysus came from Thrace ; and 
Daulis on Mount Parnassus with Boeotian Thebes received 
him in the earliest days. 

The gradual adoption of this strange worship through 
out Greece may be called a first Macedonian conquest or 
supremacy, which had its day in the world of the spirit, 
long before that of Philip the crafty and his son Alexander, 
the " great Emathian conqueror " of Milton s song. Indeed 
Emathia, the cradle of Philip s power, was that district 
north of Mount Olympus, where upon the spurs of Mount 
Bermius were those fabled rose-gardens of Midas that 
early harboured the myth of Dionysus. These prehistoric 
associations gave to Philip s intrigues and Alexander s 
masterful ambitions a sort of home sanction from the god 
of their home, and hence perhaps came the great con 
queror s fondness for appearing with the attributes of 
Dionysus. 1 Dionysus was the first Thracian conqueror of 
the spirit of Hellas, and the later Greeks so conceived him 
when they created the type called the Indian Dionysus, 
who is the arch-conqueror, a deification, as it were, of the 
Eastern exploits of Alexander. 

1 Compare the masquerade of Antony as Dionysus at Ephesus. 
Hut. Antony, 24. 


The undeniable touch of his original Thracian ferocity 
which Dionysus has, even in his most highly developed and 
sweetly civilised aspects, is startling at first, and never easy 
either to understand or to combine with his other aspects. 
Nevertheless a contemplation of the god throughout his 
whole career, and especially as he was worshipped at Athens, 
will outweigh whatever disgust might be felt at the lower 
phases of his ritual, and leads us to wonder at the high 
purposes and great truths which finally associated them 
selves with him. 

Now it is important to define terms and explain the 
meaning here attached to the word Thracians. Those 
Thracians from whom Greece learned to worship Dionysus 
were, of course, not the Thracians personally known to 
Herodotus. Before his day the earlier Thracians had 
migrated southward from Thrace, and had established 
themselves, first of all in Phocian Daulis, and then in 
various parts of Boeotia. The mountains of Attica near 
Marathon appear to have been visited by these early in 
vaders from Thrace, and a record of this survives in the 
legends of the mountain-deme Icaria. Cadmus, the maternal 
grandparent of Dionysus in the Theban story, is said to have 
sojourned in Thrace on his way from Phoenicia to Greece. 
The fabled visit of Dionysus to Icaria and King Icarius is 
perhaps best explained by connecting it with the migration 
headed by Butes. Thracians are known to have wandered 
over the islands of the Aegean under his leadership, and 
not far from their track was Marathon, whence they might 
easily penetrate into Attic Icaria. With the name of Butes 
associates itself the so-called Thracian sea supremacy, a 
time in prehistoric days when Thracians are said to have 
controlled the Archipelago. The seat of their power was 


Naxos. The early presence of Thracians on Naxos ac 
counts for the plentiful growth of stories connecting 
Dionysus with that island, called in the end especially his 
own, and described as having the shape of his vine-leaf. 
Naxos, we hear, was the place where Dionysus was born 
and bred. This tale and that of the god s visit to Icarius 
have plainly no close affinity to the Theban story. In Crete 
also there was during the two hundred years traditionally 
allotted to the Thracian sea supremacy abundant chance for 
the creation of a vigorous legend of Dionysus. 1 

Now the local tales of Dionysus in vogue upon Naxos, 
the other Cyclades and Crete, 2 would be sure to play no 
inconsiderable part at Athens, which was in especially close 
communion with the islands of the Aegean. From the 
Archipelago, therefore, as well as from Boeotian Thebes 
and the favouring oracle of Apollo at Delphi, can be 
traced influences that combined at Athens with the 
aboriginal and old Attic tale of Icarius and Icaria. A late 
comer in Athens, the Thracian god was the gainer through 
long waiting; for an unconscious selection performed by 
his Athenian votaries neglected the wildest and basest 
features of his story, taking from Icaria, Thebes and Naxos 
only the higher traits. Thus Dionysus at Athens became 
the godhead and the centre of the widest and best worship 
known to the best spirits in the best days of the best com 
munity of Hellas. 

His ritual underwent a triple probation before Athens 
fully adopted him and he so shone before men that he 
became the tutelary god and great inspirer of Aeschylus, 
Sophocles, Euripides, and Aristophanes. There was first 

1 For a different view of these Thracians, see the second note on chapter 
vi. below. - See an account of them by Hoeck in his Creta. 



the Icarian or old Attic probation, then the probation in 
Naxos and Crete, and thirdly, the probation in Thebes and 
Boeotia. All these were preceded by the god s first estate 
in Thrace, and succeeded by his public adoption and 
glorification in Athens. We ought, therefore, to consider 
five stages of Dionysus: ist, Dionysus in Thrace; 2d, 
Dionysus in old Attica, i.e. Icaria; 3d, Dionysus in the 
Archipelago at Naxos and Crete ; 4th, Dionysus at Thebes ; 
and 5th, Dionysus in Athens. But it will be neither con 
venient nor possible to consider these five stages with equal 

After an account of Dionysus in Thrace, the considera 
tion of certain debatable points belonging to Dionysus 
everywhere will lead to such treatment of him in Thebes 
and in the Archipelago as is required for understanding 
him first in old Attica or Icaria, and finally in Athens. 
In Athens he reached his final stage of perfection, and a 
consideration of his worship there will form the climax and 
be our abundant reward for the present rather perplexing 
study of the details of earlier phases. And yet the most 
painstaking scrutiny, the minutest examination of such 
evidence as may be had, will never disentangle completely, 
never make perfectly plain, just what elements constituted 
the Dionysus first worshipped in early Greece. His charac 
ter was composite from the moment Greeks worshipped 
him ; for in Boeotia, 1 as in Attica 2 and on Naxos, 3 some 
part of him was native to the soil, and he was nowhere 
wholly Thracian. There are dimly visible traces of the 
merging of an early Greek worship of trees into the more 
soul-stirring rites of the Thracian newcomer. The confusing 

1 Dionysus, surnamed ZvdevSpos, was a Boeotian god. Hesychius. 

2 Pausanias, I. xxxi. 4. 3 Athenaeus, iii. p. 78. 


thing about him is that in Thrace as well as in Greece he 
appears as in part a tree -god, attaching to himself the 
attributes of a primitive and barbarous Jack-in-the-Green. 
But it is convenient to make abstraction for the moment of 
his vegetable antecedents in Thrace. We may safely con 
sider that their chief effect upon him in his new Hellenic 
dwelling-places was to give him instincts which were the 
remote ties of a half -forgotten kinship allying him 
with indigenous tree -spirits and tree -worships. The 
probably milder and less clearly marked observances which 
he found in Greece were soon merged into, and were 
obliterated by, his intenser and more brilliant strain. 1 This 
belonged to him by Thracian birthright, and here we have 
his birth-mark, the one constant element in. early Dionysus 
worship, he was and is and always will be a god of 
Thracian quality. The great modern historian of Rome 
has thus indicated what this Thracian quality was. 2 
"Maidens dashing at midnight down the mountainside 
with brandished torches, the boom of deafening instruments, 
the rush of streaming wine and streaming blood, a religious 
holiday-making that lashed all the senses to a furious pitch 
of frenzy and hurled men headlong on to madness, 
Dionysus, in all the glory and the terror of his name, was 
a Thracian god." That portion of the god s character 
which came from Thrace in early times may therefore claim 
examination first. 

In such an examination it must be taken for granted that 
the latter-day Thracians (and so far as religion is concerned, 
the Macedonians) reproduce the leading qualities of the 

1 I have not been able to look at Rapp s Beziehungen des Dionysos- 
kultes zu Thracien, but he is reported as taking this view. 
- Mommsen in his 5th vol. ch. vi. p. 189. 


earlier tribes, who finally left Thrace (whether of Asia Minor or 
of Europe is not certain) and wandered westward and south 
ward with their native god to Greece. Making this proviso, 
we may say that the Thracians were of stubborn spirit, 
uncompromising like the rocky lands which they have 
always defended as their home. A wild race of mountain 
robbers, skilled in some things beyond the measure of 
barbarians, they would not be brought under the yoke. 
"The Satrae," says Herodotus, "have never been the 
subjects of any," and Thucydides, himself of semi-Thracian 
parentage, tells of mountain-dwelling Thracians, men whom 
nothing could force into military service. In later days 
they were ferocious in rejection of Christianity, and then, 
when Christianised at last, they proved most faithful 
defenders of the Church. To their reckless defiance of all 
invaders these Thracians joined certain views about religion, 
death, and life hereafter, which bear directly upon the early 
type of Dionysus. There was a great contempt for this 
present life, a vivid faith in a better, and to them a more 
real and important life hereafter. The saying that the 
body is the grave of the soul was originally Thracian, and : 
the Thracians used to gather in bitter mourning around j 
each new-born child. They wept for sorrows sure to come, j 
But if a tribesman died they rejoiced and spoke of his. 
happy deliverance. A dying chieftain left many wives, andi 
after his death high court was held to know which wife he: 
loved most dearly. The chosen widow was rewarded by| 
death upon her husband s tomb, and all the others enviedi 
her good fortune. 1 

Without some personal god to lead the tribes of the 
dead, such an intense realisation of life hereafter would 

1 Herodot. v. 4, 5. 


hardly have thriven. Indeed the real beginning of it all 
was an intensely real person whose dwelling-place and 
whose power interested the tribes in Thrace more than 
even their native hills, whose favour they prized more highly 
than liberty itself. Such a person possessed their pious 
souls, and was the god of Thracians everywhere. Hero 
dotus was astonished at the intensity of their devotion, and 
remarks especially that they believed that there was no other 
god save only their own god. This enthusiastic intensity 
and almost Mohammedan intolerance imposed the Thracian 
worship even upon communities otherwise far in advance 
of them. Here then is an Asiatic touch l in the beginnings 
of Dionysus ; indeed his Thracian origin was partly Asiatic. 2 
Thracians in Thrace, Thracians in Asia Minor where were 
settled their Phrygian cousins, 3 all these tribes worshipped 
Dionysus under a name of their own choosing, and cele 
brated in his honour most strange and violent festivals, 

1 For admirable suggestions about the eastern aspects of Dionysus 
worship, see the quotation from Sir George Birdwood, K.C.I.E. (who 
suggests that the name Dionysus is of Phoenician origin), given in 
Appendix III., p. 164. 

- Aristophanes, Birds, 874, with scholiast s note, and Wasps, 9. 

3 Servius on Aeneid, iii. i$adfin.\ and especially Herodot. i. 28 ; iii. 90; 
vii. 75. See also Strabo passim. He is constantly harping on the affinity 
between Thracians and Mysians, Bithynians, and the like. But Mommsen 
himself could not be more in despair about confusions and uncertainties 
regarding the peoples of Thrace and the interior of Asia Minor. See xii. p. 
564, where he gives for this state of things the same reason given recently 
by Mommsen : diopiaai 8 x a ^ 7rov - ainov 5e TO rot>s e-rrrjXvdas fiap- 
ftdpovs Kal crrpartwras &VTO.S fj.ij /3e/3aws Kar^x eiV r V Kpa.rr)del<rav, dXXd 
TrXai/TjTas elj/ai rb ir\tov e/c/SaXXoiTas Kal e/c/SaXXo/^i/ous. airavTO. 5e ra 
tdvT) TO.VTO. QpqiKid rts et/fd^ot av td r6 TTJV Trcpaiai> vt/j.e<rdai TOVTOVS 
Kal 5id TO /XT? 7roXi> e^aXXdrreu/ dXXiJXwj/ e/carfyous. We know as little 
(perhaps less) of this region of the Balkan peninsula and of Asia Minor as 
Strabo did, simply because the confusing cause has continued to work. 
Here has been and is still a confused maelstrom of tribal and national 
antagonisms in constant motion, occasional waves of more or less temporary 
invasion have always broken in upon any permanent and clearly defined 
shaping of political life in the ancient realm of the Thracian tribes. 


both by night and by day. The barbarian violence of these 
led, no doubt, to the epithet of the "crazed god " for Diony 
sus, who had not been very long or very far away from Thrace 
in Homer s day. So close a love bound worshippers to this 
god that they sent solemn messages to him, informing him 
of their needs, once in every five years. A messenger once 
appointed by lot, the faithful first gave their messages, then 
three tribesmen stood forth holding with points stretched 
firmly heavenwards three upright spears. Others then laid 
hold upon the favoured emissary s hands and feet, and 
tossed him upward. He was greatly blamed and another 
messenger was chosen if he did not light upon the spear- 
points and die ; if he died all was well. 1 

It is wonderful to see how indestructible was this worship 
in Thrace of the leader of Elysian joys, of the marshaller 
of the blessed dead, the real king of the real world, call 
him Zamolxis, Sabazius, or Gebeleizis, what you will, for he 
has later names in Rome and Greece. 

The Roman festivals of mid-winter, called Brumalia be 
cause they fell upon the shortest day (bruma or breuissima) 
of the year, and also those called Rosalia 2 for the mid 
summer-night of perfect blooming roses, all these maintained j 
themselves with astonishing persistence on Thracian soil. 
Their centres lay just where the ancient cradle of Thraco- ; 
Macedonian 3 Dionysus -worship was to be found. The I 

1 Herodot. iv. 94. 

2 Tomaschek, " Brumalia und Rosalia," Reports of Vienna Acad. Phil. ! 
hist. Class., 1868. 

3 The Macedonians had no distinctive religion. As soon as they I 
appear in history they are in most respects Greek, but imbued with | 
Thracian religious ideas, as were also other tribes of Illyrian origin. l 
These ideals from Thrace they never abandoned, and modified only by 
degrees as Macedonia allied itself with the glories and greatness of Greece. 
Accordingly the distinction between Macedonia and Thrace, Thracian 
and Macedonian, may be ignored in treating of the history of Thracian 


districts are two, the first of which lies among the snowy 
mountains and the mountain spurs of Olympus. This 
district is extensive if it be understood also to include 
Emathia, the heart of early Macedonia, and to take in 
Mount Bermius and the fabled roses of the gardens of 
Midas. This district, contiguous to Greece, may be con 
veniently called Pieria. Distinct from this, and farther to 
the north, lies, near the river Strymon of Orphic fame, the 
second centre of this worship, which bears the name of 

Not far from Philippi, which lies in this district of Pieris, 
was found an inscription belonging to a Roman epoch, but 
in the spirit of its piety towards Bromius can be detected 
the ancient and lingering worship of the Thracian Dionysus : l 
"Hercules shed tears" the mourner says, " tfien why not I, 
for Venus marks thee all her own by beauty less than by thy 
loving heart of excellence ? Now whether the mystic maids for 
Bromius* service scaled chose thee on flowery meads their 

Dionysus. Only we may have reason to think that the constant and close 
communion between Greece and Macedonia reinforced all along the line 
certain cruel and crude Thracian aspects of the god which, without Mace 
donia, might have been more completely softened by native Greek ideas 
and observances. As to a fusion between Illyrians and Thracians as far 
as matters religious are concerned, this is made more than probable by 
the fact that, apart from their share in Thracian rites, the Illyrians can 
not be found to have had a traditional religion. Their rudimentary 
observances were early absorbed in the wild Thracian cult, just as were 
certain local cults of early Greece. See in the Fragments of Olympiodorus 
(Dindorf, 27), an account of Valerius in Thrace during the reign 
of Constantine. Hearing of treasure -trove, he got orders from the 
emperor to take possession. He found the ground was sacred, dug there, 
found three silver statues, upon whose removal by him Thrace and Illyria 
were overrun by Goths, Huns, and Sarmatians. Connected with these 
statues and their holy ground were mystical observances which protected 
both districts : iv fj.<ri$ yap avrrjs re QP^KTJS Kol rou IXXiynKou /car^/ceiTO 
TO, rrjs reXer^s. One of the statues was to keep Goths out, the second kept 
out the Huns, and the third was a bar against the Sarmatians. 
1 C. I. L. iii. i, 686. 


mate and Satyr-friend to be, or whether the Naiads require 
thee to join their torch-led bands and hold with them high 
festival, wheresoever thou art, dear boy, and whatsoever . . ." 
and here the marble record ends, yet not before bearing its 
testimony to the persistence through Roman days of Diony- 
siac customs inherited from those unremembered Thracian 
tribes who lent their god to Greece. Dionysus in Thrace, 
accordingly, must be looked upon as the head of a world 
hereafter, but not of such an Elysian realm as that com 
monly thought to have satisfied Greek religious belief. The 
hereafter presided over by Thracian Dionysus was the world 
of worlds, the real life, far better and brighter than this. 
The reality of this Dionysus world and Dionysus worship is 
witnessed to by the many and vain struggles made by 
Christian bishops to eradicate from Christian merrymaking 
certain heathen practices derived from ancient Dionysiac 
festivals. We hear repeatedly of these practices in Christian 
documents, especially in the decrees of councils. 1 The 

1 Ralli and Potli, Hvvray^a, etc., Athens, 1852-59, ii. p. 450. Hav 
ing failed to find any trace of this monumental work in the catalogues of 
the British Museum, the Bodleian, or the Taylorian Libraries, I applied 
to my distinguished and learned friend Mr. Panagiotes D. Kalogeropoulos, 
Librarian of the Greek Parliament Library in Athens. In his answer he 
gives me the full title of the six volumes ; I quote from the second. The 
general title is : "Zvvray/Jia r&v deiuv Kal iep&v Kavbvwv rwv re dyiuv 
/cat 7ravev(pr)iJ,uv diro<rrb\uv, /cat r&v iep&v olKOVfj.eviK&i Kal TOTTLK&V 
vvvbduv, Kal r&v Kara ^fj.4pos ayluv Trartpw, Kdodv o~vv TrXe/crrats 
&\\ rr\v 6/c/cX?7(ria<7Tt/cV Kardcrrao-LV 5te7roi5<rats 5taTae<rt, yuera TUV 
dpxaiuv e^yrjrCov, Kal dia(f>6pui> dvayvw<T[ji,dr(i)i> virb T. A. PdXX?; /cai 
M. riorX??, 67/cpto-et TTJS (rytas /cat fj.eyd\-rjs rov Xpla-rov KK\T)<rias, A6ijt>ai, 
1852. The title of the second volume, from which I quote, is : ot 0etot 
/cat iepoi Kav6ves r&v ayiuv /cat ira.veuty fjij.wv airoffrbKuv rwv h Nt/cata, 
iv ~K.ovffTavTivovTr6\ei, fi> E0^<ry, h Xa\K7]d6vi, ev r(p TpovXXy rov 
/3a<riAt/coO TraXart ou, ev Nt/cata rb B. olKov/j.eviKuv <rvi>65wj>, /cat rwv cv 
K.ovffTai>TLVOVTr6\ei, rfjs re ev r^> vd^> rdov aytw a.iroar6\(j}v Trpdorrjs /cat 
Seur^pas, Kal rfjs v r$ TTJS aylas 2o0tas, yevo^vwv iep&v avvbSuv, 
fiera rrjs e&yrnreus Iwdvvov rov Zuvapa, Qeodupov rov BaXa-a/xtDi/oj, /cat 
A\e%iov rov Apiaryvov, Kal HtvaKos dvdXvriKov airdvrwv r&v fv rQ devrfyy 
Kavovuv fj-erd rfjs <rvfj.<puvtas avruv, A&7Jvai, 1852. 

1 1 1 MODERN MA Y-DA Y FES 77 VA LS 89 

Rosalia is described as a " wicked and reprehensible holi 
day-making " Trawqyvpis aXXo/eoTo? celebrated at Easter 
in remote country districts through the persistence of an evil 
traditionary custom. This occurs in a note on an order of 
the sixth council at Trullo, 1 commanding the suppression 
of various heathenish festivals, including also the Brumalia. 
Again, in the tenth century, there was a decree against 
these festivals ; but they apparently kept their hold upon 
the peoples inhabiting the Balkan peninsula even unto 
modern times. 2 There is a curious record of what 
seems very much like an adaptation to Albanian peasant 
life of the Athenian festival of Dionysus, and is probably a 
survival of the Thracian festival called Rosalia. 3 During 
the first week of May a festival is held, when the people 

1 January 15, A.D. 706. 

2 The earlier custom fixed the Rosalia at or about Whitsuntide. 

3 Arabantinos, xp v yp a( t> ia T??S Hirelpov, Athens, 1857, vol. ii. 
p. 191 : T6re (palverai rots (Hapytot.?) Trapexwpirjd r] KCU TO 5i/caw/za rod 
KpoTflv TT]V Ka\ov/j^vrjv eoprr^v PoffdXiav T) Povad\ia diapKovcav airo TT)S A 
fj-eXP* 1 - T ^ s H Mafov, 6 re 6 Xa6s iKMytav TroXir^v Tivd cbs dpxnyov evdv/u.ei. 
did 5ia.(j>6ptt}v KUfJUK&v (ncrjv&v /uerai) 5 TQVTUV e/cp6rei /cat TrXaffTrjv TLVO, 
/jLaxirjv, (TXTj/Aartfo/u.eVwj 5vo (TTpaTiuTiKuv au/mdrw^, TOV ^v xP L < J " riaviKO Vi 
TOV 5 6dofj.aviKou dpxnyov/J^vov virb ir\a.ffTov TLaffffd 6 crris <rwe\a.[Ji.[3dveTO 
aix/^aXwros, /aerd r^v yevofjifrijv ev rr\ reXeurat a TjfJ.tpg. TTJS copras \f/evdo- 
/j-dxTlv. See in Folk-Lore for December 1890, p. 518, some interesting 
notes on May- Day observances in North-Western Greece, especially the 
Ionian Islands. If Mr. J. G. Frazer s informant had known more of the 
festal rites of antiquity, he would no doubt have carried the origin of actual 
customs far beyond the days of Venetian supremacy. As it is, he has 
enabled Mr. Frazer to give a most graphic description of the flower festival 
as celebrated in medieval times at Corfu and elsewhere. After all, the 
best authorities on such a point are the Greeks themselves. I have my 
kind friend Mr. Kalogeropoulos to thank for the following references. He 
writes : "As for Roussalia, you will find in the fifth number of AvaroXiKT] 
E7ri0ec6picns (January 1873) a dissertation of Politis irepi Pov<ra\iov. 
This periodical was published in Athens. Kampouroglous wrote also 
about Roussalia on the 24151 page of his History of Athens. Kam 
pouroglous has also written something about Roussalia in the E/SSo^ads 
(a weekly periodical published ^in Athens). Pandora, another periodical, 
contained another dissertation of Politis rather shorter than the article of 
the Epitheorisis." 


choose them a leader and give themselves over to pleasure 
in various comic performances, and among these they 
especially applaud a sham fight between two champions, 
one a Christian soldier and the other a Turkish pasha. It 
is needless to say that the pasha is worsted and carried off 
prisoner in this patriotic Punch-and-Judy show. 

But now the main features of Dionysus in Thrace must 
be brought into comparison with Dionysus as he was wor 
shipped in Greece. From being the god of the only real 
world, he comes further to underlie all that is most real, all 
that in nature arrests the eye, startles the ear, or awes the 
mind. 1 The two views of the god s nature lay confused in 
the childlike stories and rites of Thrace and the Thracians. 
To gather a complete, an early, and a plain record of the 
second and more obviously poetical view of the god, not 
Thrace, but Phrygia and Thrace together, the larger Thrace, 
must be applied to. Out of Phrygia, as has been intimated, 
came in part the ancient Thracians, and in Phrygia dwelt 
of old cousins of theirs who had fundamental beliefs prac 
tically the same with theirs. From the dim traces which 
are still preserved in Thrace and Phrygia may still be read 
a conception of Dionysus, which is that of later Greece 
reduced to simpler terms. 

In this disentangling process it will be convenient to 
forget the so-called infernal character of the god, to forget, 
that is to say, the otherness of the world where he was 
thought to rule, and to remember alone its reality. To the 
tribes of Thrace these two qualities were no doubt dimly 
identical. Dionysus the god of reality soon becomes an 
incarnation of the elements. Wine was, in those early days 

1 Also as a god of the underworld he would be conceived of popularly 
as sending up trees and plants and as the author of springs. 


of story-making, quite as much an element as water. 1 Wine 
was in fact regarded as a perpetual source of miracles, and 
came to be looked upon as a tertium quid in whose essence 
the natural and the supernatural met together, sometimes 
for good and sometimes for evil. It was at the same time 
an elixir of life and a draught by which men lost their senses 
and their lives ; it represented and incarnated as it were the 
sterner as well as the more charming aspects of Bacchic 
power, for Dionysus was not only, as Homer 2 calls him, a 
"spring of joy for mortal men," but he was also the "angel 
of the darker drink." 3 He came offering his cup and invit 
ing the souls of men " forth to their lips to quaff," and thus, 
beguiled by wine, they accomplished his will, following after 
him through madness and the gates of death. On the 
other hand, one of the streams with which Odysseus filled 
that trench, out of which the flitting ghosts had to drink 
before he could get speech of them, was a stream of sweet 
wine. And so it seems that wine had some power to lead 
back for an instant to the gates of life the very spirits swept 
forth by its spell into darkness and death. Elsewhere in the 
Homeric poems we hear again of the power of wine to 
awaken and make glad the anguished spirits of the beloved 
dead, 4 and a modern voice has uttered for the Persian 
Omar 5 the same belief that wine makes glad the dead 

And not a drop that from our cups we throw 
For earth to drink of, but may steal below 

To quench the fire of anguish in some eye 
There hidden, far beneath, and long ago. 

1 See, for instance, the way in which the Pramnian wine given by 
Maron to Odysseus is praised in the ninth Odyssey, vv. 196-213. 

2 Iliad, xiv. 325. 3 Fitzgerald s Rubaiyat, quatrain xliii. 

4 Iliad, xxiii. 220. 6 Fitzgerald s Rubaiyat, quatrain xxxix. 


The worship of unusual brightness, of motion and flash, 
attached itself to the four elements of wine, fire, water, and 
gold. Dionysus was, accordingly, not the god of any one 
of these only. He was a god of flush and flame, made 
manifest in all flashing and flowing. It is not by making 
distinctions between the various elements, but rather by 
translating each into terms of the others that he is best 
understood. Gold was his especial element, hidden in the 
bowels of the earth or flowing in the fabled floods of 
Phrygian Pactolus. Chrysopator was his traditional epithet 
used by a Christian poet of Egyptian birth, Nonnus, who 
endeavoured to sum up the legends of Dionysus in forty- 
seven books, each consisting of a large array of Greek 
hexameters. Father of gold Dionysus really was from the 
first in Thracian Pieris. There is a hill near Philippi where 
the mountain tribes of Thrace used to get gold. They 
called it Dionysus own. Then there is the story of King 
Midas, 1 which belongs to Thrace as well as to Asia Minor. 
Midas turned all he touched to gold ; and the story is in 
reality a blurred record of Dionysus as Father of Gold 
where Midas stands for Dionysus. From Dionysus, as a 
mark of gratitude for hospitality received, was lent to 
Midas, by his own choice, the power of transmuting all he 
touched to gold, and when, because of it, he was brought 
near to starvation, his prayer for deliverance was to Diony 
sus. Dionysus bade him wash in the floods of Pactolus, and 
from this bath of Midas that river derived its fabulous rich 
ness in gold. In Thrace Midas had miraculous rose-gardens 
on the flanks of Mount Bermius. There he sought to take 

1 See Herodot. viii. 138, and also i. 14 and 35 ; Pausanias, I. iv. 5 ; 
Xen. Anab. i. 2, 13 ; and Hyginus, whose igist fable gathers nearly 
all the threads of the story together. 


the elusive Silenus. Long his efforts were in vain, but 
Silenus at last drank of a spring with which the wily Midas 
had mixed wine. Heavy with the unknown fumes, Silenus 
was seized, and Midas never loosed his hold until he had 
heard prophecies about things to come. This legend, in 
which Dionysus is both Midas and Silenus, both captive 
and captor, couples itself with the abundant record of 
Dionysus as a god of prophecy. But this power of prophecy 
came to him chiefly if not solely as the god of wine. In 
wine lurks truth, the adage says, and this is why no one 
was answered by the Thracian oracle on Mount Zilmissus, 1 
before he had taken much pure wine. Wine belonged to 
Dionysus as the good gift that freed man s soul from man s 
self and made way for the power of the god to speak his 

Fire belonged to Dionysus, partly no doubt from causes 
which made other divinities of the hereafter who were also 
nature gods most easily appeased by torch -bearing wor 
shippers, and which gave rise to various fire - festivals. 
Furthermore, traces of sun-worship may also be detected 
in this aspect of the cult of Dionysus, but beyond this 
the violent and all - possessing power of flooding fire 
marked it as his own. However this may be, Dionysus 
was looked upon as leader of the band of fire -breathing 
planets in the sky. The wielder of fire, the fire -faced, 
the sower of fire seed, the fire-begotten, the fire-thunderer, 
or the spirit that roars in high flames, all these epithets 
bestowed on Dionysus mark him as the mover and maker 
of fire. Aristotle tells an anecdote that attaches this 
aspect of the god also to Thrace. There was, he says, 2 a 

1 Macrobius, Saturnalia, i. 18, T. 

- Trepi Oavfj-aatiov cucoucr/xoTUH/, cxxii. 133. 


well- known place of Thracian assembly where Dionysus 
promised good crops for the coming year by a miraculous 
manifestation of flame from the top of his holy hill hear by. 

Water again, which like wine was one of the streams of 
the draught poured out by Odysseus for the dead, is the 
element of the Thracian Dionysus, as is shown by his 
ancient Thracian name of Dyalos, god of springing water. 
In countless stories traceable to Pieria and Pieris, the god 
had for his nurses the spirits of flowing waters, his child 
hood s companions and woman-helpers were nymphs and 
naiads of the mountain sides. These were but one com 
pany of all the elusive troops of water-folk that flood the 
whole career of Dionysus. To water-nymphs must be 
added innumerable Satyrs and Sileni. Nothing is plainer 
than the meaning of those curious representations where 
Satyrs are pictured in the act of smiting the ground, whence 
obedient to their stroke a nymph arises. Here is water 
calling forth water, and the bubbling up of a mountain 
spring is the gist of these beautiful picture-poems. 1 

Silenus, companion of Dionysus revels, sharer of his 
adventures in early and in later days, was an incarnation of 
fluid, a water-man who might at any time change again to 
the fluid from which he sprang. This being true of Silenus 
and all Sileni, it is in a measure true of Satyrs also, who are 
a more youthful repetition of the type of Silenus. A Silenus 
is an Asiatic Satyr, just as the Curetes are the Satyrs, the 
Sileni, the Tityi, and the Corybantes of Crete. 2 Without 
at all pressing this statement, we may learn from it that 
the attendants of Dionysus are as elusive as the god 

1 This interpretation was first given to them by Carl Robert. 

2 Strabo, X. ch. iii. pp. 463-474. This whole chapter is of the utmost 
importance for understanding Dionysus and allied divinities. 


himself, and as each of the four elements in which his 
power was chiefly manifested. You no sooner begin to 
see what Dionysus and his creatures are than they are 
instantly something new. Each melts into another when 
you try to single him out in the whirling dance of Dionysus. 
Nonnus tells at length the following tale of Silenus. 1 Hav 
ing danced his best in eagerness to win a prize, Silenus 
overreached himself. So swift became his motions, so 
numberless the undulating curves and swerves of his limbs, 
that all at once he was himself no more, but swiftly flowed as 
a river onward to the sea. His paunch became the river-bed, 
his hair showed upon the stream in guise of bulrushes in 
the shallows near the shores, and the pipes he played on 
resumed their ancient stand and grew once more as reeds. 
Through his attendants the Sileni, the god has been abund 
antly identified with water. But the Thracians and the 
Phrygians did more than this, they frequently identified the 
god himself with the watery element. As the representative 
of resistless water s flow, Dionysus was in their conception 
bull-shaped. The usual art-type of a river is the bull, often 
times a man-headed bull, as may be seen on many ancient 
coins. Horace was not unmindful of this when he wrote : 

Sic tauriformis volvitur Aufidus 
Qui regna Dauni praefluit Apuli. 2 

There was a notion that in the bull resided exhaustless 
vigour, and thus the bull -form represented flowing and 
falling waters as the cause of growth and abundance. The 
bull serves in many mythologies along with the cow to re 
present any sort of a river and water in general, and even 
the later Greek artists remembered this, so that the beautiful 

1 Dionysiaca, xix. 261 ff. 2 Odes, iv. 14, 25. 


Dionysus of later days is sometimes represented with the 
horns of a bull. 

Thus Dionysus in Thrace at last stands forth well-nigh 
complete, moving in all that makes real the world that is 
water, fire, wine, and flashing gold. Moreover as dwelling in 
the land of the real he knew the truth, and would declare it 
when rightly approached by the use of his element, whether 
of wine or of water. 1 He was the giver of oracles in 
Thrace. 2 

Other features still remain for a necessarily discursive 
consideration. The Thracian Dionysus was a fierce and a 
pitiless hunter, a man-slaying power that would rend all 
creatures in sunder, an eater of raw flesh. This feature is 
undoubtedly Thracian and only survived in Greece. The 
Thracian Dionysus appears also to have been the god of 
lovely song and the leader of rhythmic dancing ; but per 
haps this was really added to him in Greece. The under 
standing of both these aspects requires first of all the 
observation of those minor and less constantly heeded 
persons who form his countless following. 

Muses, Hours, Graces, Seasons, mountain nymphs, Oreads 
or hill spirits, Dryads or forest maidens, and Hamadryads, 
these beautiful emanations from the central divinity of 
Dionysus dance around the triumphant god, and mourn him 
when he departs from them. But there are figures more 
intimately belonging to him, a numerous band of so-called 
Bacchae, Bacchants, or Bacchanals. Just so in early Thrace 
and Phrygia the wildly roaming woman votaries of Sabazius 
were called Sabae. 3 It is the god in them, not they them 
selves, that prompts their cries, even when with loud lament 

1 Macrobius, Saturn. i. 18, i. 2 Euripides, Hecuba, 1267. 

3 See schol. on Aristoph. Birds, 874. 


they mourn Dionysus dead they are still possessed by him. 
Through them he cries aloud and seeks with shouts and 
wizard motions to break the spell of death and call to life 
the spring his quickened self. The great Thracian 
originals for these Bacchanals or Bassarids, as they are 
also named, were called Mimallones and Clodones. 1 These 
were women nerved to more than woman s work, who were 
much feared, and who followed the god through the valleys 
of Thrace. They all did nothing of themselves, but the god 
in them cried aloud, as they darted through the wilderness, 
the well-known Bacchant cries " evoe " (eu hoi or eu sot) and 
" saboi." Here, in the myriad women possessed of the god, 
we have a personification of the passive side of nature, 2 that 
into which the god as motion, as moisture, enters to make it 
wholly his. 

Turning to the male figures that swarm continually about 
him, there is such confusion that no discrimination can at 
first be made. Satyrs and Sileni, already spoken of, men of 
the water and the wood ; Telchines, those workers of metal 
from Rhodes ; Corybantes, attendants given to Dionysus by 
his Phrygian mother the great nature goddess Cybele; 
Curetes from Crete, all these and others have their func 
tion. Some of them, as the Satyrs, represent ever and anon 
the coarser aspects of wine-drinking ; some, like the Telchines, 
have to do with Dionysus as father of gold, and naturally 
associate themselves with one who at Eleusis is almost 
identified with Plutus, or rather Pluto, 3 the god of nether 

1 Plutarch, Alexander, ch. ii. 

2 See T. A. Voigt s article "Dionysus" in Roscher s Mythological 
Lexicon, where this is made very plain in an admirable presentation with 
which Mannhardt himself would not have found any fault. 

3 According to Hesiod Plutus was a son of Demeter, and therefore not 
her son-in-law. His father was lasion, and he was begotten in Crete 
(Theogony, 969 and fif. ) This Plutus was an errant and elusive god, 



gold and nether realms. In these figures who can rush into 
excesses unworthy of the god himself his majesty is so far 
saved. Another group of Dionysus male followers must 
now be sought to represent his most darkly cruel aspect. 
Those curious and elusive beings, called Pans or Aegipans, 
swarm in every Bacchanalian rout, and though they make 
less noise perhaps than the Corybantes with their drums, 
not the shouting Bacchanal women themselves do such 
savage deeds as the Pans when they are roused. Aegipans 
and Bacchanals, therefore, are often possessed with the native 
savagery of the barbarous man-eating Dionysus. 

Pan or Aegipan was originally capable of better things, 1 and 
in fact a pure and sweetly simple worship of Pan was cherished 
at Athens. He was originally a shepherds god, and could 
not withstand successfully the superior claims of greater gods 
not confined, like himself, to the hamlets and haunts of 
lonely shepherds rocky places on the very summits of 
mountains. Hence he surrendered his independence and 
is found in many shapes, both large and small, swarm 
ing in Dionysus train. All Pans have goat s legs and 
horns, but not all are made utterly savage by contact with 
the Thracian god. Some Pans are young and graceful, 

a wanderer whom the lucky would fall in with and straightway become 
rich and glorious. The Hesiodic conception of him bears a striking 
resemblance to the poetic notion of Dionysus, to meet whom and feel whose 
power was to be forever blessed, only the typical element of Plutus was 
only gold and never wine. Hesiod s Plutus is certainly not yet identical 
with the brother of Zeus and Demeter, Hades (ibid. 455), who was also 
Persephone s husband (ibid. 769). The Aidoneus who robbed Perse 
phone from Demeter (ibid. 913) was apparently thought of as dimly 
identical with Hades. Pluto was a daughter of Oceanus and Tethys 
(ibid. 355), of those who with lord Apollo and the rivers take in hand the 
bringing up of men from their boyhood, according to the allotment of 
Zeus, dvdpas Kovptov<n crw A7r6XXawi &VO.KTL \ /ecu TJora/iots, 
AIOS Trdpa fj-dipav Covert (ibid. 347 and f. ) 
1 See Preller s Greek Mythology, 


spending the time piping on reeds, and in the end this type 
of dear little Pan loses his goat s legs and becomes a civil 
ised and harmonious young Satyr. 

The fiercer type of Pan or Aegipan is distinguished from 
the Satyr by courage. For the Satyrs personify among other 
things the aspect of Dionysus which made Aristophanes lam 
poon him as a weakling and a coward. " Always drunk with 
wine, the Satyr kind is insolent through and through. Their 
brawling threats are loud, but war drives them in headlong 
flight. Of plentiful readiness they in the dance, and skilled 
beyond others in draining the widest cups and the deepest to 
their very dregs." 1 

A savage god had need of courage in his deeds of grim 
and reckless cruelty, and this quality was neither in Satyr 
nor in Silenus, but only in Pan. All three had horns and 
tails and pointed ears, and all seem at times to be nearly 
the same, since all represent the frenzy of the god superfi 
cially called drunkenness, yet in a crisis your Satyr is a tear 
ful drunkard, your Silenus in spite of all his wisdom is a 
maudlin drunkard, while your Pan is always fighting drunk. 
The Aegipans of Dionysus did not wear horns and hoofs for 
naught, since they appear to have bequeathed these append 
ages to the devil of many a modern legend. With these 
Pans were associated all panic terrors inspired through 
them by Dionysus. 2 These savage and sudden inroads of 
terror form a counterpart to those equally mysterious and 
equally sudden ecstasies and bursts of reckless joy sent most 
frequently by Dionysus to his women votaries the passive 
Bacchanals. There is just this difference : the Bacchanals 

1 Nonnus, Dionysiaca t xiv. 120 ff. 

2 Eurip. Rhesus, 36 ; Bacchae, 303 ff. ; Pausanias, II. xxiv. 6 ; see 
also Nonnus, Dionysiaca, x. at beginning. 


feel the Bacchic bliss, whereas the Pans inspire the panic 
fears. And here begins the second stage of this short 
inquiry into the savage Dionysus, the rending god, the 
power from the world underground that directs the earth 
quake and its various attendant catastrophes of fire, of water, 
and of endless panic fears. The Bacchanals and Pans ! 
associate themselves even in Grecian story with frenzied rend- : 
ings of men and animals. The frenzy prompting these acts 
is so plainly from the god that such rendings may be called ; 
acts of worship features of his ritual. From this we may j 
argue backwards to a considerable degree of cruelty and 
savagery in the worship of the Thracian Dionysus. Human i 
sacrifice was assuredly not uncommon in the earliest 
worship of Thracian tribes, and it is likely to have been 
begun with an effort, like that described by Herodotus, to i 
send a messenger to the god in his world beyond. A thirst 
for blood of some kind is very universally attributed to the 
dead by early legends. This thirst for blood is no doubt 
often a thirst for substantial life, as, for instance, was that of 
the shades who flocked around Odysseus, but it allies itself 
to cruelty, and its wildest fullest realisation is in the Bacchic 
Thiasos. This is but a much-needed collective name .cover 
ing all followers of the god, all who are so full of him that 
they know not what they do the Bacchanals or Maenads 
on the one hand, and the Aegipans on the other. 

When this mysterious frenzy seized his Thiasos, woe 
betide man or beast whom they found on their way ; the 
god possessed them utterly, and they wrought his miracles 
unarmed. The warlike excesses of horns and hoofs into 
which Dionysus hurried his outrageous Pans beggar de 
scription. In these tales the god is revealed in his most 
awful aspect. He was named Anthroporraistes or man- 


wrecker on the island of Tenedos, while the Chiotes spoke 
of Dionysus Omadios, glad of raw flesh. For this last 
savage trait another epithet elsewhere used was Omestes, 
favourer of raw flesh ; and these names may serve to indicate 
the dark background of the Thracian legends concerning 
the god. " Dionysus Omophagus, the eater of raw flesh, 
must be added," says Mr. Pater, 1 "to the golden image of 
Dionysus Meilichius, the honey-sweet, if the old tradition in 
its completeness is to be ... our closing impression ; if 
we are to catch in its fulness that deep undercurrent of 
horror which runs below this masque of spring, and realise 
the spectacle of that wild chase in which Dionysus is ulti 
mately both the hunter and the spoil." Indeed, what the 
same gifted writer says of the Bacchanals of Euripides may 
be applied to the legend of Dionysus as a whole : " It is it 
self excited, troubled, disturbing, a spotted or dappled thing 
like the oddly shaped fawn-skins of its own masquerade, so 
aptly expressive of the shifty, twofold, rapidly doubling 
creature himself." Truly " the darker stain " of the gloomier 
Thracian legend is always "shining through"; no matter 
what cheerful aspect of the Hellenised Dionysus you may 
choose, he is always a god of tragedies more than in name. 
This is exemplified in the old Attic legend of Icaria as well 
as elsewhere. 

Before taking up that legend, however, a further considera 
tion is desirable of what the god whose power it exalts 
came to represent for religious-minded Greeks. Already 
in proving that Dionysus stood for wine, water, fire, and 
! gold, and in telling of his savage aspect, it has been 
impossible entirely to exclude points that are surely of 
later growth ; so now in speaking of Dionysus as the com- 

1 "The Bacchanals of Euripides," Macmillan s Magazine, May 1889. 


peer of Apollo, leader of the Muses, and himself the god 
of song, it will not be possible to exclude the earlier germs 
and signs of this later transformation, this translation 
of Dionysus from the depths of the Thracian wilderness 
and the world of the dead to the peaks of Grecian 

All the elements of Dionysus associate with themselves 
a notion of swift brightness, of inevitable sparkle. The 
ecstasy that words cannot utter finds a near escape, its 
native utterance in song. Hence the pious Pindar sings in 
a famous prelude that " water is best, but gold is like a 
beacon blazing through the night, while songs that celebrate 
Olympian glories shine pre-eminent even like the flaming 
noonday sun." 1 In another prelude 2 the same poet sings 
of three things most useful to man : " Winds that blow and 
waters that fall in fertilising showers, showers that are the 
children of the clouds;" and then as a climax, song, in 
which no doubt he would have us feel the swiftness of fresh 
winds and the richness of glad rain : " But if any show 
bravery in deeds, honey-sweet song shall spring forth and 
fly from tongue to tongue a pledge assured of glorious 
achievements to come." 3 

The many familiar phrases connecting poetic inspiration 
with springing waters and pure flowing streams, or with 
wine, as when we hear that Alcaeus, Xnacreon, Sophocles, 
and others could write and sing their best only when under 
its influence, all these fancies group themselves around 
Dionysus as an incarnation of the swift flashing power and 
resistless beauty that attaches both to wine and water, but 
finds its fullest utterance in the changeful cadences of 

1 So begins his first Olympian Ode. 
2 Twelfth Olympian Ode, beginning. 3 Ibid. 


perfect song, the graceful undulations and fitful variations 
of an ordered and yet wayward Bacchic dance. 

The worship of song and dance implied in their associ 
ation with Dionysus came as an afterthought, or rather as a 
climax, for in this worship his diviner essence was most 
made manifest. In these, at last, were fused and expressed 
all the elements in which the power of Dionysus moved. 
The elemental force in wines and waters, in gold and fire, 
had been rudely associated and yoked together in the 
Thracian and Phrygian notion of Sabazius. Whence came 
the further step which made Dionysus-Sabazius the god of 
harmonious songs and rhythmic dances ? This may be left 
in doubt, though tradition and the story of Thracian Orpheus 
indicate that this transformation was thought of as beginning 
far back in Thrace. 

Thracians, we are told, established on Mount Helicon 
the worship of the Muses, 1 and one of the sayings at a 
Boeotian festival, which had other features of Thracian 
origin, shows how close a bond united Dionysus and the 
Muses. At this wild and Thracian -seeming festival, ap 
propriately named the Agrionia, 2 the Boeotian women 
searched long and anxiously for the god with many lament 
ations ; then, as at a sudden flash of light, they said each 
to her neighbour, " He is not here but hath fled away to 
hide him with the Muses." The Muses, as known to their 
earliest adorers, were emanations, so to speak, from Dionysus 
the god of song. The higher and least earth-born of his 
qualities required the same separate incarnation and im 
personation which was given in Satyrs and Sileni to his 
coarser strain. The history of the worship of the Muses, 
how they came to be nine instead of three, their original 

1 Strabo, X. Hi. 17, p. 471. 2 Plutarch, Sympos. viii. Proem. 


number, 1 would lead too far afield. It appears that both 
the Muses and the Graces were adjuncts to Dionysus and 
Apollo when these divinities appeared as representatives of 
idealised song and dance. Dionysus was called Melpomenos 
in this capacity, and under the same aspect 2 Apollo was 
surnamed Musagetes. As before 3 in speaking of the more 
catholic and benign aspects of Apollo, so now, in penetrat 
ing into the higher regions and more inspiring features of 
Dionysiac worship, in treating of the perfected Dionysus, 
you come face to face with the perfect unison, the flawless 
concord of the two great gods of poetry, dancing and song. 
Not only did Apollo share with Dionysus his mountain of 
Parnassus and his Delphian temple, but Dionysus freely 
gave room for a temple of Delphian Apollo, " the Pythion 
of the Icarians," 4 in his own first Attic home, close to the 
flanks of high Pentelicus. 

Thither we now must go. Having examined closely the 
aboriginal Dionysus in Thrace, and having considered the 
prime factors in the Bacchic godhead from various points 
of view, we turn to that stage in the history of Bacchic 
worship which our own countrymen have done so much to 
illuminate the first worship of Dionysus in the highlands 
of Attica at Icaria. 

In this legend 5 traces of old Thracian savagery survive 

1 See Oscar Bie, Die Musen in der Antiken Kunst. 

2 The Muse Melpomene may be regarded as an emanation from this 
Dionysus, who is the Dionysus of Eleutherae. See Pausanias, I. ii. 5. 

3 Introductory Lecture, at the end. 

4 See Mr. Carl Buck on this and other discoveries (p. 174, Am. Journal 
of Archaeology , June 1889). The worship apparently came up to Icaria from 
the Marathonian tetrapolis, where there was a Delion whose rites were con 
nected later with the Athenian Delia. See chap. viii. below. 

5 See Otto Ribbeck on the whole subject, Anfaenge des Dionysoskults 
in Attica, Schriften der Univ. zu Kiel, 1869. Also F. Osann in the sixth 
meeting at Cassel, October 1843, of the Verein deutscher Philologen und 


in spite of transformations wrought by the Attic instinct, 
which always seeks to observe measure. The Thracian 
legend thus moderated to suit Attic taste, and brought into 
parallelism with the Eleusinian Demeter-legend, runs as 
follows 1 : " Under King Pandion the fifth since Cecrops 
Demeter and Dionysus came to Attica. Dionysus was 
entertained by Icarius, in Epacrian Icaria, while Demeter 
was the guest of King Celeus." Icaria comprised an upland 
valley hemmed in on one side by Mount Pentelicus 2 and 
separated from Marathon 3 by a huge mountain wall, which is 
cleft by the stream that flows from Rapendosa. Two other 
forest cantons, Plothea and Semachidae, formed the triple 
confederation of mountaineers to which Icaria belonged. 
The three bore a collective name, Epacria. An especial 
bond between Semachidae and Icaria like that between 
Eleusis and Celeae is suggested by the existence of a 
parallel legend to the effect that Semachus at Semachidae 
first entertained the god. 4 Icarius, who has been truly 
called "the heroic type of the Athenian farmer, devoted to 
his trees, his crops, and his only daughter Erigone," was so 
irresistibly hospitable that to the latest days the wor 
shippers of Dionysus were fond of seeing him sculptured 
in the act of entertaining their god, a bearded and portly 
presence, who arrives noisily and numerously attended. 5 
He is pictured in the act of having his sandals removed. 
This office is deftly performed by an obsequious dwarf of a 

1 Apollodorus, Bibl. iii. 14, 7. 

2 For a view taken from Icaria and looking toward Pentelicus, see 
Appendix XI. i. 49. 

3 For the view toward Marathon, see ibid. 48. 

4 See Stephanus Byzantinus, s.v. ST/^CIX^CU. See Appendix II. 

5 A doubt has been raised whether this might not be anybody enter 
taining, rather than Icarius in particular. See Professor Gardner, Journal 
of Hellenic Studies, v. p. 137. 


Satyr. So overcome is father Dionysus with the journey 
upward from Marathon, where no doubt his Thracians 
landed him, and by copious draughts of retzinato l on the 
way, that he requires a second Satyr to lean upon. In one 
bas-relief a palm shows upon the right, and a fig-tree on the 
left, symbolising, both of them, that epithet of Dionysus 
which is least certainly Thracian, Dendrites 2 or the spirit of 
growing trees. Here perhaps is a something added to the 
incoming god, which came to him from a primitive worship 
of trees, 3 inherited by the Icarian shepherds from remote 
and fetish-worshipping ancestors. 

Dionysus proved no ungrateful guest, but rewarded Icarius 

1 Plut. Quaest. conviv. v. 3. My attention was called to this passage 
by the much lamented Dr. Schliemann. Plutarch (or whoever speaks 
under Plutarch s name) discusses the dedication to Poseidon and Dionysus 
of the pine tree, accounting for it by their common element of moisture 
and productivity : Kal Noaeiduvl ye <pvTa\fj.i^, Atofivay de devdpiry, 
wdvres (ws eiros eiTretv) "E\\-rjves dtiovo-iv. Then he accounts for Poseidon s 
especial claim on the pine by its use in shipbuilding, adding r$ de 
Aiovvcrct) rrjv irirvv dvLepwffav, ws e<f)T]dijvovo~av rbv olvov Kara, yap ra 
TTiTvudr] x w P tt \tyovo~iv TjSiV olvov ryv a^ireXov (frepeiv Kal rty dep^brrira 
rrjs yijs Geo^pacrros amcmu . . . ou pty d\\d /ecu TTJS Trirvos avTrjs et /cos 
a.7ro\aveu> rrjv a^ireXov, exotiffrjs eTriTrjdei6TrjTa TroXXTji/ TT/SOS 
o-UTrjpiav olvov Kal 5iafj,ovr]i> ry re yap TT/TTT; Trdvres e%a\et- 
(frowi TO, ayyela, xai TTJS pfTivrjs virofjt,iyvvov(ri TTO\\O! ry oiVy, 
Kadairep Ei;/3oe?s TUV "E\\rjviK&v, Kal TUV IraXiK&v oi trepl rbv Udoov 
oiKovvres. Thus the Greek peasant of to-day need not be too much 
abashed when the vials of Occidental scorn are ; poured upon him because 
he likes still the resinated wine of antiquity a high-bred taste, hard for 
some to acquire. 

2 Ibid, and also iv. 6, where a curious attempt is made by the Athenian 
Moeragenes to prove that the god of the Jews is none other than Dionysus. 
The season and also the manner of their chiefest feast is appropriate to 
Dionysus : rty yap Xeyofj^vrjv vrjo-Teiav aK/j,dfoi>TL rpvyrjTCp rpair^as re 
TTporldevTCU Travrodair^ oTrcipas, VTTO (T/c^z/ats Kal KaXidalv eKK\-r)fj.dro}v 
MaXicrra Kal KLTTOV 8iaireir\eyiJLevais. Little as Moeragenes convinces by 
his argument, he yet supplies interesting touches in a picture of country 
side and greenwood festivals in honour of Dionysus. 

3 With this same primitive worship may also be connected the cere 
mony of " Aiorai," or the hanging of effigies on trees which characterised 
the Icarian festival, and was accompanied by the song Aletis. See for the 
facts Miss Harrison s Mythology and Monuments, p. xl. and ff. 


by showing him how to plant and tend the vine, and how 
to make wine. Till then, shepherd-like, Icarius drank water 
chiefly and milk sometimes. Dionysus held forth to him 
a goblet crowned with foaming wine, and said, according to 
the gist of Nonnus l report : " Lo, thou art blessed, for men 
shall sing in future days thy praises thus : Icarius rather 
than Celeus himself be praised, and Erigone, his daughter, 
beyond the praises of Metanira, Celeus spouse. Tripto- 
lemus gave the wheaten ear, but from Icarius we have the 
wine-flashing clusters of summertide. Compared to these, 
what are the gifts of Demeter ? Corn brings not, as wine, a 
sweet release from grief." This comparison is taken from 
Nonnus,^ but it meets us in every version of the story, and 
doubtless represents the typically Attic way of regarding the 
boons of corn and wine, 3 and it foreshadows the ultimate 
union at Eleusis and Athens of Demeter and Dionysus. 

The story of Icarius may now be continued in borrowed 
words : " The vine is carefully tended and reared ; but a 

1 See the forty-seventh book of his Dionysiaca, from which details have 
been borrowed in the following account. 

2 See Dionysiaca, xlvii. 47 and 99. 

3 There are no traces of a local Icarian attribution of Demeter s gift to 
Dionysus, but Pliny (Nat. Hist. vii. 59) says that Eumolpus introduced 
the cultivation of the vine and trees. Here then is the trace of a local 
Eleusinian legend attributing the Icarian gift of Dionysus to another 
Thracian figure in early legends. But this variation had no hold upon the 
imagination of religious men. In fact, as Dr. Merriam has abundantly 
shown, the legends of Eleusis and Icaria were so closely connected in 
the minds of the mythologists that the one naturally suggested the other. 
Not only has Statius linked Icaria with Eleusis, but Apollodorus (iii. 14, 7) 
has done the same ; as also Schol. Aristophanes, Knights, 697 (here 
Icarius welcomes Dionysus who is a fugitive from outrageous Pentheus) ; 
Philostratus,L/z .tf. 39 ; Gregory Nazianzen, Orat. iii. p. iooc; and Lucian, 
De Saltatione, 39, 40, where he speaks of both stories being represented 
in full by the dancers of the day. In some writers they were even confused, 
as in the Etymologicum Magnum, 62, n, where Erigone is interchanged 
with Persephone. In Servius ad Virgilii Georgica, i. 19 Triptolemus is 
called the son of Icarius. Nonnus links the two stories, Dionys. xxvii. 


he-goat breaks into the enclosure and injures it with char 
acteristic voracity. Icarius in anger slays the goat, offers 
him in sacrifice to the god, blows up the skin, oils it, and 
gives it to his companions to dance about, thus originating 
the sport of askoliasmos, a usual accompaniment of the 
Dionysiac festival. The divine gift is not destroyed by the 
goat J ; but Icarius is soon enabled to follow the injunctions 
of the god, to travel about the country with a waggon loaded 
with wine skins, proclaiming the joys of the vine, with 
practical applications, and without water. " 2 The Epacrian 
shepherds marvelled at the glorious gift. " Whence comes 
it ? " they cried, " for it is not from the Naiads, their water- 
streams are not sweet." Furthermore, as Nonnus, with 
rather frigid elaboration, makes them proceed, "it cannot 
be oil from olives, that is not for man to drink. It is not 
honey, for that begets a most swift and strong surfeit." 

But the shepherds abused the gift and were made drunk 
with too much wine. Just here the more awful significance 
of Dionysus and his worship shows through the transparent 
innocence of these shepherd-simpletons. Ignorant of what 
drunkenness was, the legend goes on to say, they thought 
themselves undone. In fact it was the savage god who 
entered in and possessed them wholly. Dionysus required 

1 K-fjv pe <f>dyr]s tiri j>iav, fytws gri Kapiro^op^ffu 
&<rffov eTTiffTre tffa.l <roi, rpdye, Ovoftfry. 

Evenus of Ascalon, Anthol. ix. 75. 

2 I quote from p. 65 of Dr. Merriam s " Report to the Committee 
of the School of Classical Studies at Athens," a monument of brilliant and 
accurate scholarship which does honour to the American School. To this 
Report I refer for an exhaustive account of the Icarian legend in all its 
bearings, with full enumeration of all the sources. It is fortunate that the 
singularly interesting relics of the country deme Icaria have found such an 
able interpreter. This great contribution to our knowledge of old Attica 
is contained in the same publication of the American Archaeological In 
stitute with the seventh Annual Report of the Managing Committee of the 
American School, Cambridge, 1889. 


the sacrifice of what was most prized and best beloved, and 
so, crazed by him, these shepherds slew Icarius, their bene 
factor and their friend, and then they swooned away, wholly 
overcome by the power of the god. When sense returned 
they woke and saw what they had done. . The repentant 
murderers buried Icarius after washing him in a mountain 
stream on the edge of the forest, the very stream perhaps 
which all visitors of Icaria see to-day flowing through a glen 
near by. It is shaded by mighty plane trees so gnarled and 
hoar that it would seem as if no antiquity could outstrip 
theirs. Not far below these trees the stream plunges down 
a steep and reaches the valley of Rapendosa, whence it flows 
past Marathon into the bay towards Euboea. Near the 
plunge made by this stream is a cave still inhabited during 
the heats of noon by shepherds as simple as those in our 
old Icarian story. 1 

Icarius having been slain and buried, a terrific vision of 
him so says Nonnus, and it is by no means sure that he 
invented this episode of the ghost 2 clad in a blood-flecked 
garment, the " dappled herald telling of a murder to which 
none living bare testimony," appears to Erigone. The 
daughter wildly seeks his grave. Search is long in vain. 
Tired of her own way, at last Erigone follows her faithful dog 
Maera, whose instinct leads her to the place. Then, fordone 
with horror, she hangs herself beside her father s grave. 

At this point Nonnus is truly pathetic in his account of 
the lament over Icarius and Erigone. " Wine, gift by my 
own Bromius, given to make men cease from care, sweet 
wine hath brought but bitterness to Icarius. Gladness it 

1 For photographs see Appendix XL i. 46, 47. 

2 The dog Maera is made into the messenger in some versions, e.g. 
Apollodorus, above cited. 


gave to all mankind, but death to him. Sweet wine was a 
foe to Erigone; for truly Dionysus, who comes to chase 
dull care away, hath pursued to her death and slain with 
grief our own Erigone." 

As if to leave no doubt that Dionysus wielded a power 
of possession which drove men to madness and despair, and 
was not solely a god of wine and jollity, the last episode of 
the Icarian legend gives a woful account of how Erigone s 
death was atoned for. A mania laid hold upon all the 
maids of Icaria. With one accord, stung by a conscious 
ness of guilt for what their fathers and brothers had done, 
they flew to the mountain-side and hanged themselves upon 
the forest trees. 1 Apollo s oracle, questioned in extremity, 
could only urge the punishment of the guilty murderers of 
Icarius. These slayers slain, a respite came at last. Ever 
afterwards the shepherds of Epacria worshipped Icarius, 
Erigone, and Maera (the faithful dog whom she had 
tenderly reared), and kept their memory green at a yearly 
festival. On these occasions small effigies were suspended 
from the branches of forest-trees, 2 to commemorate so at 
least the story ran Erigone s manner of death. Meanwhile 
the father, his daughter, and the sagacious Maera were 
translated to the firmament. 3 Icarius with his waggon 
becomes Bootes with his Wain ; Erigone, the Virgin ; 

1 A similar mania for hanging is recounted as overtaking the maidens 
of Miletus ; see Gellius, xv. io ; and Plutarch, De Anima. For an extra 
ordinary array of similar epidemics of suicide, see E. Bachut, Histoire de 
la Mddecine et des Doctrines Mddicales, Paris, 1873, vol. i. p. 56 and 
ff., where several curious modern parallels to this feature in the legend are 

2 For an admirable discussion of this practice, see Miss Harrison on 
the "Mythology of Athenian Local Cults," pp. xxxix. and ff. of the 
Mythology and Monuments of Ancient Athens. 

3 Hyginus, Fab. 130, end : Erigone signum virginis, quam nos Justi- 
tiam appellamus ; Icarius Arcturus in sideribus est dictus, canis autem 
Maera Canicula." 


Maera, the Dog-star; and the Cantharus of Dionysus 
appears close at hand as the Crater. 1 

As to the legendary epoch to which this visit of Icarius 
and this old Attic legend should be assigned, the whole 
question hangs together with similarly insoluble ones, with 
the date, for instance, of Demeter s arrival at Eleusis. 
King Pandion himself of most elusive date under 
whose rule Demeter and Dionysus came, is said to have 
had dealings with Thracians. These, however, were 
Thracians already established south of Thrace at Daulis, 
on a spur of the Parnassus, 2 toward the confines of Boeotia. 
All this favours at least the supposition that Thracian in 
fluence made itself felt in very early times on Attic ground. 
Accordingly the Icarian legend of Dionysus is likely to be 
as old as other tales told in Boeotia or on the islands of the 
Archipelago, such as Naxos and Icaros, both of which 
claim the glory of having given birth to the god of wine. 
In fact the mountains of old Attica gave to the Thracian 
god a home no less his own than the islands conquered by 
Thracians. Icaria became to him in Attica what Pieria was in 
Thrace ; and the shape which tragedy took in Attica, and 
with it the course of the history of poetry even to the present 
day, was determined by the way in which Icarian shepherds 
understood the worship and the power of Dionysus. No 
doubt their manner of taking the whole story was a far simpler 
one than that familiar to Sophocles, yet it was sufficiently 
complex to make Icaria the cradle of tragedy and comedy. 3 

1 To this Dr. Merriam adds (p. 67) : "The bright star c, near the 
right wrist of Virgo, was called provindemiator (TrpuroTpvyTjTrip, Aratus, 
Phaenomena, 138), as rising shortly before the vintage. Icarius is Bootes, 
as vindemiator (Tpvy-rjT-rjp, Schol. Arat. Phaen. 91). 

2 See Appendix II. at the end of this chapter, on Dionysus of Eleutherae. 

3 Athenaeus ii. 40 A : airb /JLtdrjs ical TJ TTJS Tpayydtas evpe<ris ev 

JS Arn/c^s evptdr), Kal KO.T avrbv rbv rrjs rpvyrjs Kaip6v cuf> 


This momentous beginning associated itself with the two 
mountaineer festivals celebrated by the Icarians with their 
thanksgiving and fast -day observances, so to speak. Little 
or nothing definite is known of the former of these. It 
must have been a May-day festival like the Thracian festival 
afterwards called the Rosalia; the other corresponded to 
the Brumalia, in so far at least as it was celebrated in the 
bitterest cold of the bitter month Lenaeon. 1 

Their joy was in Dionysus revealed in streams flowing 
free and fast, no longer bound in wintry fetters of ice, 
revealed also in the plenteous foliage and brilliant blossoms 
of their native woodland home. The masses of yellow 
narcissus, found at their ancient home to-day, painting 
whole mountain - sides with their bright yellow, gleaming 
in the sunshine, and spreading fragrance near and far, 
may fitly give ocular demonstration of their old time 

Their sorrowing was lament for Dionysus, loved and lost. 
They mourned when nature s flash and flow and all her 
lively colours seemed to vanish from their eyes. Partly to 
lament the loss of Dionysus presence, partly to recall his life, 
they sought in winter time bleak and storm-swept summits. 
There tarried those upon whom came compulsion from the 
god. There Maenads and Bacchanals vied in wild dances 
and loud cries, which they thought would have power to 
bring back growth and life to trees and plants and streams. 
Dionysus slept or was among the dead. It was as though 

08 5?j Kal rpvyydla TO irpurov eK\rj6-rj 77 KW/jupdia. See the last volume of 
Bergk s Griechische Litteraturgeschichte (Aus dent Nachlass, pp. 7 
and 8). 

1 Dread are the days of the month Lenaeon, the flayer of oxen, 
Under the blasts of the north wind, of ice that Boreas sharpens, 
Scouring o er Thrace and her pastures of horses to breadths of the 
ocean. Hesiod, Works and Days, 504 ff. 


they thought each winter would last for ever if they did not 
beat the ground and summon spring. 

The sincerity with which they made these desperate forays 
into winter s fastnesses is best shown by hardships actually 
endured. The incident in point which has been preserved 
relates, not to the festival at Icaria, but to that on Mount 
Parnassus. This matters little, since both were centres of 
Dionysus worship, strongly influenced from Thrace in early 
days. On Mount Parnassus we hear that a band of frenzied 
votaries were blocked upon high levels above Delphi. In the 
midst of their incantations to revive the life of spring, 1 snows 
imprisoned them. Those who climbed the steep from 
Delphi for their rescue suffered from the utmost rigours of 
the cold. Their raiment grew stiff, and so the unknown 
narrator declares became absolutely brittle and friable. 

Though it may safely be said that of the two peasant 
festivals celebrated in conjunction with Dionysus worship 
at Icaria and elsewhere one was sad and the other glad, no 
more definite account can be safely given. With the sad 
festival glad features were associated, and the glad festival 
was not without its mourning. Thus are the inherent con 
tradictions of Dionysus in his very nature mirrored out 
wardly by his festivals. 

It is reasonably certain that the whole observance which 
spread all over Attica and called itself the Rural Dionysia 
took its characteristic shape in Icaria. Wonderful to relate, 
the Attic salt of moderation and due measure came from 

1 See the Plutarchian De primo frigido, xviii. : h d AeX0ots avrbs 
6 n r&v els rbv Hapvaabv avaftavruv /SoTj^crcu rcus Qvdaiv, 
a.Trei\r)/ virb Trvev/n-aTos xaAeTroC Kal xt^os, OUTOJS tytvovro Sia rbv 
Trdyov ffK\r)pal Kal uXu>5ets ai x\a/xi55es, w? Kal dpafcadai 8iaTeivo/JLei>as 
Kal priyvvffdai. In the light of recent events this passage gains new 
interest as the earliest circumstantial account of a blizzard. 


the unaided taste of a community wonderfully aloof from 
all the rest of Attica. Icaria is deserted now, and lay far 
from the course of travellers until the American excavations 
unearthed fragments 1 which claim a visit from all interested 
in Greek antiquity. And truly the visitor is well repaid, 
finding how beautiful is the spot where highest art had its 
first outset, and earliest took shape. 2 Near its ruined ; 
church 3 begin the forests, the very "wilderness of Marathon," 
through which, the poet Statius says, Erigone once j 
wandered seeking wood to place upon Icarius funeral pyre. | 
Here, in recent days, but fortunately past, were secret 
haunts of brigands now unknown to Greece. The lovely 
vale of Rapendosa is not far, for it belonged to Icaria s 

This is the setting of the earliest legend of Dionysus in 
Attica; here were celebrated his Icarian festivals. Their 
importance is shown, and also their unusually noble 
character, by the fact that Susarion was first invited there, 
and that there was performed the first comedy, unless it be 
premature to give the name of comedy to Susarion s great j 
invention. The requirements of the Icarian holiday-makers 
must have been raised amazingly by a gradually purified 
and elevated taste to lead them to invite Susarion from 

1 See Appendix XI. i. 52-55. 

2 This was tacitly recognised when a sculptured scene, representing 
Icarius, Erigone, and the dog Maera, was used to adorn the stage of the 
Athenian theatre of Dionysus. This scene, together with Hermes carrying ; 
the infant Dionysus to Zeus, is still admired at Athens by those who visit! 
the ruined theatre. An examination of these sculptures has satisfied many 
that they were not originally made for the comparatively inconspicuous! 
place into which they are now crowded, for they are really too high suitably; 
to adorn what may be called the parapet of the raised stage built byi 
Phaedrus where they now are. They originally decorated a stately fafade 
upon the stage itself, which was probably built by the munificence of Nero, ;.i 
mindful of his duty as Apollo in the flesh. 

3 See Appendix XI. i. 50, 51. 


Megara. Report had reached them of his new scheme of 
methodised revelry jocosely acted before the festive wor 
shippers, and he had perhaps heard of the observances at 
Icaria, which were certainly his great opportunity. This 
happened, it appears, while the great Icarian Thespis was 
still a youth. Perhaps from seeing Susarion s first perform 
ance in his native place Thespis received the fruitful 
thought which prompted him later when he became the 
father of tragedy. And yet the invention was his very own, 
springing from the legends which had surrounded his child 

It was an Icarian custom to sing a mournful song named 
"Aletis, the Wanderer" in honour of Erigone, and relating 
her sad fate. To these songs Thespis had listened no 
doubt, and also to the strangely sad and wildly joyous Dithy- 
rambus wherein were mirrored the contradictions involved in 
the nature of Dionysus. These recounted the poetic vicis- 
situdes of the great divinity his sufferings and his triumphs. 
Filled with a higher and a new apprehension of the scope 
of all these sad stories, Thespis transformed the Aletis and 
the Dithyrambus. He had heard, perhaps, of the wonder 
ful performances of tragic choruses at Sicyon, 1 which so exer 
cised the mind of royal Clisthenes that he interfered with the 
subjects represented, for fear of their strong hold upon the 
people who heard them. 2 Of Thespis Dr. Merriam 3 has 
truly said : " The sad story of the father of his gens (Icarius), 
the rites attendant upon the festival, the dithyrambic 
choruses in vogue predisposed him to this end (progress in 
tragedy), and gave him a nucleus to which he added the 

1 As Bernhardy says (Litteralurgeschichte, i. p. 417), the connection 
between early tragedy in Attica and these events at Sicyon has been over 
stated. Perhaps Bentley was right in saying there was none. 

2 Hdt. v. 67, end. 3 Report, pp. 71 and 72. 


actor, the prologue, and speeches between the choral songs, 
and he employed different masks to enable him to take the 
parts of several persons consecutively in the same play. 
This proved him the Columbus of a new world, a mimic 
world, but one calculated to excite the interest, as it is said 
to have engaged the hostility, of the great law-giver. It 
must have been a few years only after Susarion s advent in 
Icaria that, as Plutarch tells us, 1 the novelty of the inven 
tion was attracting many, and Solon in his old age, being 
fond of amusement and music, also went to see Thespis acting 
in his own play. It is a legitimate inference from the 
language of Plutarch that the play was produced at some 
distance from Athens in other words, in Icaria; for we 
can hardly imagine Solon, a true Greek, to have remained 
away from a festival of importance, with novel features, 
celebrated at his own door. Later than this event fell his 
censure of Pisistratus, for the latter s bad acting in the 
game which he played in winning his first tyranny." 

The Dithyrambus, we may suppose, was so modified by i 
Thespis that its calmer course allowed interruption; nay, i 
even required it. 2 Out of the most lawless and wayward of 
lyric strains Thespis made tragedy, no doubt, by requiring i 
both singers and holiday-makers to leave their uncouth 
ways of wildness and listen while the glorious sufferings of 
Dionysus came before them, recited by a single man (for ] 
it is not right, as yet, to call him actor) standing for and; 
speaking for the bacchanalian concourse. He spoke, no 
doubt, in much the same spirit in which a speaker addresses 

1 Solon, 29. 

2 Bernhardy (Litteraturgeschichte, i. p. 417) quotes Themistius dis 
sentient citation of Aristotle, who plainly thought tragedy was built up on 
the Dithyrambus : -rb ^v irpurov 6 xfy>os etVtwi/ T-fSej/ ets TOI)S 0eofc, Qt<riri< 

re KO.I pijaiv 


a Quaker meeting. It was he whom Dionysus chose for 
speaking. While he spoke he only was the living god made 
flesh. This advance towards full-fledged tragedy was made 
as early as the second x quarter of the sixth century B.C. 

Upon this one step all others depended, and they were 
soon taken ; for the perfection of Attic tragedy came early 
in the fifth century B.C. Before long, in fact, Icaria was no 
more the centre of the Attic worship of Dionysus, 2 and 
Dionysus was brought in triumph to take his place last 
come but not the least of all the gods in Athens. 

1 The Parian Marble fixes Susarion s advent, with the first comedy 
performance, about the beginning of this second quarter. Icaria no sooner 
gave Attica its comedy than Icarian Thespis commenced tragedian and 
tragedy as well. For the various authorities, see Dr. Merriam s Report. 

2 But Icarians played an important part in Athenian history, contri 
buting a great comedian, Magnes, who died not long before 424 B.C., 
as well as many pious and generous men of note. See Dr. Merriam s 
Report, pp. 80-93, where they are all enumerated and characterised. This 
account closes as follows : We still seem to have enough to draw some 
conclusions as to the characteristics of the people who dwelt in that 
picturesque mountain-hemmed spot, and traced their ancestry back to 
Icarius, who entertained the god. We find no generals of renown, no 
statesmen active in moulding for good or ill the affairs of Athens, no 
orators of power, no one especially active in proposing and pushing laws 
in the public assembly for public weal or private gain, no historians, no 
philosophers, no artists. They are distinguished by two traits, which 
claim our respect and admiration. These are a deep devotion to religion 
and a sound and sturdy integrity." 


A WHOLE cycle of stories touching the first arrival of 
Dionysus in Athens ignores Icaria, and centres itself 
around Eleutherae, a Boeotian town on the Athenian 
frontier, much claimed by Athens. 1 Eleutherae may be 
visited with immense profit to-day by those desirous of 
gaining the unforgettable impression which a strong Greek 
fortification built in the days of superb workmanship can 
make. On the high road from Athens to Thebes it lies 
not far from the point where the road dips down from the 
mountain spurs of Cithaeron into the level Boeotian plain. 
Its wonderfully preserved battlements are not seen well 
except from the Boeotian side ; but he who turns back 
from the right point in the road will understand what is 
meant by saying that the Greeks could build nothing that 
was not subject to the laws of harmony and proportion. 
Go closer, and the symmetry with which square stones are 
here grouped together into a massive wall makes you 
wonder why so many strong walls in the world have been 
made so uninteresting. 

But to return to Dionysus. That this Dionysus of 
Eleutherae played an important part is sure, since the beauti- 

1 Strabo, IX. ii. (p. 412). The Dionysus of Eleutherae was considered 
to be a later arrival than the Lenaean god at Athens, and the old Icarian 
Dionysus of course was thought of as having preceded him. See the article 
Dionysia, in Pauly s Real- Encyclopaedic, by Preller. 


ful seat of honour still standing in place at the theatre of 
Dionysus in Athens is by inscription marked as belonging to 
the priest of Dionysus Eleuthereus. Moreover, in the older 
of the two temples, close to this Athenian theatre, was an 
image of Dionysus, said to have come from his temple at 
Eleutherae ; and custom required this image to be borne 
once a year to a small outlying temple upon the road which 
led to Eleutherae. 1 

Furthermore, the coming of Dionysus-worship to Athens 
from Eleutherae is associated with the reign of King Amphic- 
tyon. Now the common version of the coming of Diony 
sus into old Attic Icaria goes back only to King Pandion, 
when also Demeter came to Eleusis. Without pretending 
to assign such a thing as a date, it is roughly true that 
Amphictyon belongs, according to Attic tradition, to an 
earlier time than Pandion. Too much importance need 
not, however, be attached to this matter of precedence, 
since the coming of Dionysus to Semachus and Semachidae 
is assigned 2 to the reign of Amphictyon. This story of 
Dionysus coming first to Semachidae one of the three 
Epacrian denies, of which Icaria and Plotheia were the 
other two is probably an attempt to mediate between and 
combine the Icarian and the Eleutheraean legends. The 
chief differences between Dionysus of Eleutherae and of 
Icaria are accounted for if we consider that he came more 
immediately from savage Thrace to Icaria than to Eleutherae. 
At Eleutherae, Eleuther was the one who taught his right 
worship, and fashioned his first image. 3 Now Eleuther was 
no less a personage than the son of Apollo by Aithusa, 4 who 
was herself a daughter of Poseidon by Alcyone, one of the 
seven Pleiades, daughters of Atlas. 5 Eleuther stands for a 

1 See Miss Harrison s account at pp. 254 and 571 of Mythology and 
Monuments of Ancient Athens. 

2 Syncell. p. 157 (125): KO.TCI, AfJuftiKTiJova rbv Aeu/caXWos vlbv rivts 
(fxiffL kibvvffov ei s Ti)i> ATTiKrjv e\6bvra ^evwdTJvat ZTj/udxy Kal rrf 
6vyarpl avrov vefipida ScopTjcraaflcu. repos 5 fy oCros e/c Se^cA^s. The 
next king was Erichthonius. 3 Hyginus, Fab. 225. 

4 Pausanias, IX. xx. i. 6 Apollod. III. x. i. 


softening or Hellenising influence, which Dionysus had sub 
mitted to before he reached Athens from this quarter an 
influence emanating from Eleuther s father, Delphian Apollo. 
Voigt, in Roscher s Ausfuhrliches Lexicon, thus sketches the 
legend of Eleutherae : "The daughters of Eleuther saw 
Dionysus clad in a black goat-skin. For scoffing at this 
vision they were visited with madness. To cure them 
Eleuther was commanded by an oracle to worship Dionysus 
Melanaigis, of the black goafs fell" Accordingly, Hesychius 
describes Dionysus Eleuthereus as a god who gives release 
from the madness that comes upon Dionysiac revellers, and 
Pegasus, the Eleutheraean priest, stands for a moderate use 
of wine not unmixed with water. 


IN the last chapter Dionysus was brought from Thrace, 
and found an Attic home in Icaria. Now he must be brought 
to Athens, and accompanied thence to Eleusis, where his 
power has already been recognised while we tarried in 
Icaria. The last and fullest presentation of the perfected 
god, at the moment when the widest reach of religious 
thought and richest depth of religious fervour attached to his 
worship in Athens and Greece, has been given us in the 
Bacchanals of Euripides. It only remains, therefore, to 
connect what we know of Dionysus in Thrace and Dionysus 
in Icaria with this worship of Dionysus at Athens. The 
culminating truth about the god will be revealed to us 
after attentive consideration of the most perfect play of 
Euripides, and then we shall in the next chapter close our 
consideration of the Eleusinian divinities with a concluding 
if not a final word about the Eleusinian ritual, and some 
account of the monuments of Eleusis. 

The cult of Dionysus was not adopted at Athens as a 
matter of course. Patrician traditions firmly rooted at 
the capital long resisted popular pressure in favour of the 
peasant divinity from Icaria. There was evidently far less 


disposition in early Athens to meddle with Icarian merry 
making than there was to take part in Eleusinian mysteries, 
with which at a very early date Athenian family traditions 
connect themselves. 1 Still the political fusion of Attica, 
which was associated with the glorious name of Theseus, 
could not in the long run be maintained without such 
broadening of religious observance in Athens, and in 
Attica at large, as should more completely make one the 
heart of Attic and Athenian religion. The exclusiveness of 
local or township ritual had to disappear, and some sort 
of religious fusion had to be brought about. 

Fortunately this needed fusion tended to accomplish 
itself in spite of official discouragement. The spontaneous 
impulses of a people, religious without being superstitious, 
accomplished many large-hearted alterations, and among 
them the triumph at Athens of Eleusinian Demeter and 

1 Pausanias, I. xxxviii. 3, gives the terms of peace concluded between 
Athens and Eleusis after the war in which were killed King Erechtheus 
of Athens and Immarados of Eleusis, a son of the Thraco-Eleusinian 
Eumolpus. The Eleusinians were to submit to Athenian supremacy, 
saving only that they were to regulate the mysteries in their own way. 
Eumolpus and the daughters of Celeus were in immediate charge of 
T& lepa TOLV deoiv, the sacred observances in honour of the two goddesses. 
But Pausanias names as successor to Eumolpus, Ceryx, a son, not of 
Eumolpus, but of Hermes and the daughter of Athenian Cecrops, Aglaurus. 
The same belief in an early intervention of purely Athenian families at the 
rites of Eleusis is shown by Strabo s explanation, XIV. (p. 633), of certain 
existing privileges attaching to the so-called /3a<riAets at Ephesus. They 
represented a remote Athenian ancestor, Androclus, the son of Codrus, 
who founded Ephesus and assumed control of the Eleusinian rites trans 
planted thither at that early date. The most convincing authority for an 
early fusion in some sort of Athenian and Eleusinian observances is perhaps 
Herodotus in his account of Solon s answer to King Croesus, who wished 
him to tell of the happiest man he knew (i. 30). Tellus the Athenian was 
his man, for after a life otherwise completely happy Tellus died most 
gloriously fighting for his country against near neighbours (the Megarians). 
He fell at Eleusis, and was buried where he fell with all possible honours. 
Such burial of an Athenian on Eleusinian soil suggests more or less com 
plete fusion of Athenian and Eleusinian rites and customs. 


Icarian Dionysus. Here was indeed one of the earliest of 
many brilliant victories gained by Athenian democracy. 
Solon s actually visiting, or even a commonly credited report 
that he visited, the rustic play at Icaria or elsewhere in 
Attica, marks a turning-point in the history of Athenian 
state religion. 

It is abundantly evident that in the earlier ages of their 
worship Demeter and Dionysus were alike divinities of the 
common people. Consequently we are not surprised to find 
either that the earliest recorded enlargement of the official 
religion at Athens was a recognition of Eleusinian Demeter, 
or that there is a still more complete record of the later 
official adoption of Dionysus forced by popular discontent. 
The people failed to win power under Cylon s leadership, 
but they succeeded in altering the state religion. Epimen- 
ides, a wise man of Crete, was called in, after Cylon s 
attempt had been suppressed, to devise means for allaying 
popular disaffection. 1 The gratitude felt for Epimenides 

1 The date of this purification of Athens by Epimenides was about 
596 B.C. That a humanising change did come over Attic religion and its 
officially constituted observances is beyond the possibility of a doubt. 
What in general terms this change was, and that it was definitely associ 
ated with Epimenides, appears from Strabo, who says (p. 479): K 5 TTJS 
QaiffTov rov TOI)S Ka.6apfj.oijs TroirjcravTa. 5ta TUV eir&v "Etiri^vL^v (paalv 
elvai, and Plutarch s Life of Solon (12, 4 and ff.), where we read of 
Epimenides substantially what follows : He was reputed a friend of 
the gods, with especial skill and knowledge touching mysteries and 
enthusiastic rites (TTJV tvdovcriacrTiKTiv /ecu TeXecmxV <ro<t>lav). He 
did much to prepare the way for Solon s legislation by reducing to 
simplicity (ev&TaXeis eiroirjo f) the official sacrifices, and by softening down 
in them the observances of mourning. He introduced certain sacrifices 
into funeral rites, and thus banished harsh and barbaric usages to which 
most women had previously clung. But above all, by certain propitiatory 
and purifying rites, and by instituting new observances and sanctuaries, he 
made the city ready for sacred orgies and hallowed it for the service of 
justice, bringing it to a readier obedience of the promptings of concord. 
See Bernhardy, Griechische Litteraturgeschichte, i. p. 409. Since the 
above was written the newly-discovered Aristotelian Constitution of Athens 
has gone far to justify the importance here attached to the intervention 


at Athens was commemorated by a statue, 1 and we may 
conclude that his reforms were made in the interest, not of 
concord only, but of the maintenance of the state religion 
on a broader and therefore a more universally acceptable 

In the month which was afterwards selected for the 
flower-festival of Dionysus, when that also was officially 

of Epimenides, by briefly mentioning it as follows : ETrt/zei/^s 5 6 
eirl Totfrois tKadype TTJV Tr6\iv. This comes at the very beginning of the 
newly-discovered MS. , and is preceded by an account of Myron s arraign 
ment of the Alcmaeonidae and of their perpetual banishment carried out 
even upon the buried remains of their dead. This was all done in 
expiation of their outrageous suppression of Cylon and his faction. When 
the grateful Athenians, marvelling at his work, pressed riches and honours 
upon him, Epimenides took for his guerdon a branch of the sacred olive, 
and went his way. 

1 Pausanias says (I. xiv. 3 and 4) : " I intended ... to give such 
account as is possible of the sanctuary at Athens called the Eleusinion, 
but was prevented by a vision in a dream. I will turn to what may law 
fully be told to every one. In front of this temple, where is the image of 
Triptolemus " ["We are undoubtedly justified," says Miss Harrison in 
her admirable commentary (p. 93 of Mythology and Monuments of Ancient 
Athens], "in supposing that the two temples" (one of Demeter and 
Kore, the other of Triptolemus) went by the name of Eleusinion "], " is 
a bronze bull, apparently being led to sacrifice, and a seated figure of 
Epimenides of Cnossus." [Strabo (as well as Plutarch) tells us more 
accurately, X. iv. 14 (p. 479), that Epimenides came from Phaestus 
in the Cnossian district. ] Epimenides is said to have gone into 
a field and to have fallen asleep there in a cave, and the sleep did 
not depart from him for forty years ; and after his awakening he 
wrote poems and purified various cities, among them Athens." I have 
been quoting from Mrs. Verrall s excellent translation, p. 86 of Mythology 
and Monuments of Ancient Athens. The statue of Epimenides would 
naturally be placed in the Eleusinion, if Osann is right, as I have thought 
him, in attributing to him the official recognition of the Lesser Mysteries 
and their whole definite organisation. Whether the actual place of its 
erection should be in front of one temple or the other was a matter of chance 
or momentary convenience. I venture, therefore, to believe in the literal 
accuracy of Pausanias, both as regards the place of this statue and the 
person whom it represented. Indeed the witness of Pausanias confirms 
Osann s views adopted below. The name of Epimenides was indissolubly 
associated in the minds of religious Athenians with their Eleusinion and 
its Lesser Mysteries. Not to have raised his statue in just that precinct 
would have been like denying to Browning his place in Westminster 


recognised at Athens, Epimenides caused a new festival to 
be celebrated. This was a specifically Athenian observance 
in honour of Demeter and Persephone, but especially of 
Persephone, called the Lesser Mysteries, as distinguished 
from the older - established Greater or Eleusinian Mys 
teries to which it served as a prelude. 1 In the Lesser 
Mysteries Dionysus became associated with Demeter, the 
mystery of his birth under the name of lacchos being duly 
commemorated. This was all the more natural because 
Dionysus had already found his way to Eleusis. 2 Not until 
nearly a century later is there record of a second step 
taken in the occupation of Athens by Attic Dionysus. This 
time the changes were conclusive and effectual ; they were 
the result not of the people s disaster under a Cylon, but of 
the triumphs of the enlightened friend of the people, a 
native of the Attic highlands. The famous tyrant Pisi- 
stratus and his family appear to have been the providential 
defenders of the faith in Dionysus. 3 Before passing to the 

1 Diogenes Laertius, lib. I. cap. x. sec. 6 : Idpfoaro (sc. E7riyuei>/577s) 
5e /cat Trap Adrjvalois T& iepbv TWJ/ <refj.vui> 6euv, ws $770-1 Kbfiwv 6 
A/ryetos kv rip Trepl irot. rjTwv. 

2 See the first note on chapter v. below. 

3 The evidence connecting Pisistratus with the revised and enlarged 
Bacchic worship at Athens is sufficient, due regard being had to the sort 
of evidence which is at all possible in a matter of the sort. What the 
evidence is Ribbeck has not stated adequately. I will here try to give a 
suggestion of it : 

(a) The only positive evidence connecting Pisistratus with Dionysus is 
a somewhat inconsequent utterance of Athenaeus (p. 533 C): 6 5 Heiffto - 
rparos /cat ev TroXXots /3api)s tytvero, STTOU Kal TO ^ h.Q"t]vr\ai rov Aiovvcrov 
TrpbauTTov fKeivov TII^S <j>a<riv eiK6va. Some one will be sure to see in this 
a mere bit of invention springing from the well-known latter-day habit of 
making statues of living potentates with the attributes of various divinities. 
But this objection, if well taken, leaves still more assured the certainty of 
an especially close relation between Pisistratus and Dionysus. The story 
could not otherwise have got itself invented. 

(t>) Pisistratus is indirectly but very really connected through Ono- 
macritus with the whole reshaping by the Orphic school of the religion and 
the mysteries of Dionysus and Demeter. 


new festivals that were then instituted, the new features 
now discernible in the myth of Dionysus must be 
given. These are said to have been shaped and codified, 

(c) Plutarch, Theopompus, and Athenaeus never tire in relating anec 
dotes to show how Pisistratus befriended the tillers of the fields. The 
newly-recovered Constitution of Athens (see. chapter 16) re-enforces this point. 
Pisistratus did everything in his power to make the country people in 
dustrious and keep them in the fields rather than allow them to congregate 
anywhere and agitate. He instituted TOI)J Karen, STOOL S St/cacrrds, made 
frequent country visits of inspection, and settled disputes. Then comes 
the brief story well told, as Aristotle s pointed stories always are of the 
labourer in the Hymettus district accosted at Pisistratus command while 
digging with a (?) "spike." Asked what crops he grew, the countryman 
promptly answered, Curses in plenty and abundant distress, and Pisistratus 
is sure of his tithes." In spite of the burning question of tithes, Aristotle 
goes on to say of Pisistratus : ovdev S TO Tr\rj6os ovd ev rots d XXois Trctpc&xXei 
Kara TTJV ap^v, dXX cu ei Trapeo~Kevaei> elprjvrjv /cat erripec 5t i](rw)(iav 
5to Kctl 7roXXd/as [7ra/3y / u.tdf]eTo u>s [77] Uto LO TpdTov rvpavvls 6 e?rt Kp6voi 
/Si os e ifj. In spite of oppressive taxation the countryman of Attica be 
lieved in Pisistratus, who conciliated all his prejudices. Among these 
was a childlike belief in the bodily intervention of the gods skilfully flattered 
and practised upon by the return of Pisistratus with Athene Sotera to guide 
him, some say she was a Thracian girl named Phye (cf. Athen. p. 609). 
Since there was a reshaping of the worship of Dionysus in his day and by 
his friend Onomacritus, can we suppose Pisistratus to have stood aloof 
from such an incomparable means of currying favour with his agricultural 
constituents, and satisfying his own religious impulses ? 

(d) That there was this new departure under Pisistratus is abundantly 
shown by the facts and dates in the career of Thespis. Furthermore, 
Plutarch s anecdote (Solon, 29) of Solon railing at Thespis for his play 
actor s trick of manifold lying goes with his account of how the same law 
giver jeered at Pisistratus bad acting in the role of Odysseus (Solon, 
chap. 30), and manifestly associates Pisistratus with the new-fashioned 

(e) One striking fact is added to the above from Aristotle s Athenian 
Constitution, 15. Pisistratus spent his second exile in the district where 
Dionysus was earliest worshipped : irepl rbv Qep/j.a?ov K6\Trov . . . exeWev 
be irapijXOev ets TOI)S irepl TLdyyatov TOTTOVS 86ev %pr)fj.a,Ti(rdiJ,vos KCU 
o-rpartwras /Ma-Ouadfj.ei os . . . ai>a.(r6<ra.<r6ai /3ia TTJV dp^V e7rexefy>ei. 
See Mr. Kenyan s note. 

(/) Aristotle mentions the tyranny of Pisistratus and the Pisistratidae 
as among the longest of duration known to him (Politics, v. 12). General 
ising from his facts in the previous chapter (n) with an especial eye to 
the career of the Pisistratidae (e.g., ZTI d ^ pbvov avrbv 0cuW0cu 
/j.r}5tva T&V dpxofj^vwi vfipifrisTa, /mrjTe viov ^-fjre vav, dXXd /mrjd^ &\\ov 
(M-ridtva ruv Trepl avr6v), he says that a tyrant "should appear to be 
particularly earnest in the service of the gods ; for if men think that a 


as it were, by Onomacritus. 1 However this may be, the 
connected story that got itself together at this time in 
Athens and Attica explains the aspect of Dionysus upon 
which the name lacchos was bestowed. lacchos is the 
Dionysus whose mystic birth came into the Lesser Mys 
teries long since instituted by Epimenides, whose Cretan 
birth had much to do with shaping the popular conception 
of this new aspect of the god. 

This story had been in the air, and was only recorded, 
it were, by Pisistratus and Onomacritus, who were 
encouraged by the Delphian oracle to do this. It is 
evidently made up of a motley and legendary material, 
ultimately Thracian perhaps, but immediately contributed 
from the islands of the Archipelago, and most especially 
from Crete. 

ruler is religious and has a reverence for the gods, they are less afraid of 
suffering injustice at his hands, and they are less disposed to conspire 
against him, because they believe him to have the very gods fighting on 
his side. At the same time his religion must not be thought foolish " 
(Dr. Jowett s translation, pp. 181 and ff. ) 

1 Onomacritus (see Herodotus, vii. 6) was on confidential terms with 
Hipparchus, but had to leave Athens because he introduced into the oracles 
of Musaeus one of his own, wherein the imminent destruction of an island 
near Lemnos was predicted. Lasus of Hermione, Pindar s teacher, detected 
his fraud. When the Pisistratids were in exile he appears to have been 
reconciled with them, and to have joined them in their visit to the court of 
Xerxes, whom he incited to war against Athens by various prophecies. 
Herodotus calls him x.p-rja [j.oKb yov re K.o.1 dLad^rrjv yjp-qviL&v TUV Mof<raou. 
He was one of the codifiers of the Homeric text, into which he introduced 
various interpolations. What is thus known of his treatment of Musaeus 
and Homer makes it regrettable that we do not know the Orphic materials 
out of which he wrought what was possibly an officially sanctioned account 
of the Zagreus-Dionysus myth. But so far are we from knowing his sources 
that our means of knowing what was made of them are very scanty. It is 
only from comparatively late authorities that we hear of his dealings with 
Orphic materials. The Orphic brotherhood first showed itself in his day 
and at Athens. See for a sufficient account the articles "Onomacritus" 
and "Orpheus" in Pauly s Real- Encyclopaedic, both by Dr. G. F. Bahr. 
See for a yet fuller account Bernhardy, Litteraturgeschichte (i. 419-421, 
and ii. 425-440), and Lobeck s Aglaophamus. 


Onomacritus, let us say, striving to weave conflicting 
accounts of Dionysus into one, hit upon the idea (or else 
finding it ready to his hand made skilful use of it) of a 
succession of births each one of which was a reincarnation 
of the one god. 

Zagreus, or Dionysus, under his more savage and uncom- 
forting aspect, Zagreus the wild Huntsman, an incarnation 
of the pitiless harms and blasts of winter-time, was the son 
of Zeus and Persephone. This Persephone was not the 
flower-faced maiden fair and sweet, but the threatening 
queen of death. Her son, this Dionysus - Zagreus, was 
mightily favoured by his father Zeus. So true was this that 
Zeus was about to give the child his throne, and to sur 
render with it his thunders and lightnings. But this plan, 
like so many others of Zeus, was defeated by Hera s 
jealousy. Hera set the Titans upon him, and they were 
his undoing, although he shifted into many shapes to get 
free. The Titans, fourteen in number, took Zagreus while 
he was under the shape of a bull. They tore him into 
fourteen pieces, which Apollo buried at Delphi. Only his 
heart was not buried there, for Athena took it and gave it 
to Zeus, who swallowed it and then brought forth to new 
birth the babe Dionysus, specifically named lacchos. A 
favourite subject for sculptured bas-reliefs was this mystically- 
born babe lacchos, wildly swung by a Maenad and a Satyr 
in the mystical sieve to which he owed his Orphic epithet 
of Liknites lacchos or Dionysus of the mystic sieve. 

And now the necessity of understanding the definite 
official form into which this newly-recognised worship fitted 
itself brings up the more or less chaotic mass of Athenian 
festivals in honour of Dionysus. The following attempt to 
deal with it shall be at least characterised by a certain neglect 


of complicated and subordinate questions. 1 It goes without 
saying that Pisistratus and his advisers did not invent anything 
new when they instituted the Athenian festivals in honour of 
Dionysus. This was equally true, no doubt, of Epimenides 
and the Lesser Mysteries. They merely reorganised exist 
ing popular usage, and by official recognition gave it per 
manence, and secured its orderly observance. Pisistratus 
would naturally feel that he would tighten his hold upon his 
enthusiastic highlanders, 2 and that his power could thereby 
be more secure, if only he gave legal sanction to their 
favourite worship of Dionysus. He accordingly organised 
in the god s honour the most brilliant national ceremonies, 
and by instituting, as it were, a yearly triumph of Dionysus 
at Athens, he made his partisans sure of his and their 

The accomplishment of all this led him to make a series 
of religious innovations, which completed the work begun a 
century before by Epimenides, and by this great addition to 
previously recognised religious observances the religion of 
the Attic people in the broadest sense was finally estab 
lished as the Attic state religion. Pisistratus, to put the 
gist of the matter shortly, introduced into the official 
calendar the two peasant festivals long observed in 
Dionysus honour by the people in Icaria and elsewhere. 3 

1 In attacking this much debated theme, I shall not attempt to arm 
myself in all cases with my sources. I have followed Ribbeck in many, 
though not in all, material respects. 

2 Aristotle s Constitution of Athens, 13 : ^trav 8 at ordaets T/sets 
. . . TplrTj 5 77 T&V diaKpiwv e0 r/ TeTay/j.tvos fy IIct0i0T/Mroff, STJ^UOTIKW- 
raros elvai doK&v. Cf. Herod, i. 59, and Aristotle s Politics, v. 9. 

3 The whole problem of these festivals is complicated by a third set of 
autumn festivals celebrated specifically for the vintage. These assumed an 
enormous importance at all centres of Dionysus worship, and probably 
shifted the dates of the chief celebrations in his honour. It is even 
rash to say that these were not as old as any observances which I call 



In doing this, however, he was careful to make such splen 
did additions and gorgeous modifications as gave the 
incoming god a great pre-eminence, and caused his newness 
to be forgotten. And now a brief account of these two 
festivals, the Anthesteria or flower-festival and the Lenaean 
festival, is requisite. 

As Pisistratus found the flower -festival of Dionysus, it 
was apparently an occasion for greeting gladly the return of 
spring. There were children garlanded, and garlanded 
worshippers young and old. There was tasting of wine 
newly opened, and there was competitive potation, ending 
no doubt in some sort of wordy row like that which assails 
the ear to-day near frequented pot-houses of the cheaper 
sort in Greece. This flower -festival, as Pisistratus left it, 
was all that it had been, with the addition of a triumphal 
entry of Dionysus into Athens. Furthermore there was 
instituted a symbolical marriage of Dionysus, the idea of 
which was cleverly borrowed from the yearly marriage rite 
of Dionysus and Ariadne, celebrated on the island of Naxos 
in the Archipelago. 1 Cleverly borrowed, I say, because the 
Attic rite of marriage was only dimly connected with nature 
worship. Ariadne represents the spring, and her annual 
wedlock with Dionysus symbolises the yearly renewal of 

Dionysus-festivals. It has, however, seemed suitable to leave them out 
here. For a full but rather confusing account of all festivals of the 
one kind and the other, see Preller s article "Dionysia" in Pauly s Real- 
Encyclopddie. The confusion is certainly not in Preller s admirable pre 
sentation, but rather in conflicting and insufficient information which alone 
is available. 

1 The merit of first seeing this connection belongs to Dr. Thiersch, 
who speaks of it in his introduction to Pindar, p. 156. Speaking of the 
archons Aristotle says, Constitution of Athens, 3 : $Kr)crav 5 ou% a/na 
irdvres 01 evvta dpxofres, dXX 6 /*&> /3a<riXei)s e[l]xe TO vvv Ka\ovfj.vov 
JZovK&Xiov, TrXtja lov TOV Upvravetov (a"r)/j.eiov d TI Kal vvv yap rrjs 
TOV /3a<nX^ws yvvaiKos 17 (ri;/i/xiis evravda ylverai T$ Atovvay /cat 6 


nature s vivid powers of growth. But the wife of the King- 
archon at Athens did not necessarily suggest the spring. 
Dionysus yearly marriage with her, celebrated in the Bu- 
colion, was certainly witnessed at Athens with feelings much 
the same as those entertained by Venetians who witnessed 
the annual espousals of their doge with the sea. In the one 
case the bridegroom and in the other the bride represented 
the body politic, and the espousals in both cases proclaimed 
most loudly the existence of a tie between each member of 
the body politic and a power which all regarded as assuring 
safety to the state. Only for Venice the power was of this 
world and material, while for Athens it was the glorious 
divinity, the mysterious grandeur and intensity, 1 that trans 
figured the Attic Dionysus. 

Such were the important and significant ceremonies 
added in Pisistratus day to the flower -feast of Bromius, 
and they made of it a festival which later on Thucydides 2 
calls "the older Dionysia," and which coincided with the 
summer feast of joy observed in the country, particularly at 
Icaria. Another phrase applied to it, also in Thucydides 
day, is the " Lesser, or the Rural Dionysia." For this Mr. 
Browning has a shorthand phrase taken directly from the 
Greek : he has called this holiday the " Little-in-the-fields." 
These various names of Older and Lesser served evidently 
to distinguish the feast of Pisistratus from the Greater 

1 It should be mentioned (simply by way of showing what a puzzling 
mixture of life and death, gladness and grief, all Dionysus worship was) 
that the last day of Pisistratus reformed flower-festival was a commemor 
ation of funereal kind. Fourteen women took a solemn oath of purity and 
obedience to tradition. Then they made due sacrifice at fourteen altars, 
one for each of the fragments into which the fourteen Titans rent Dionysus- 
Zagreus. Possibly these were of the nature of those humanised funereal 
rites whose institution Plutarch attributes to Epimenides of Crete. 


Dionysia which came into existence long after his day and 

And now for the second festival of Dionysus as instituted 
by Pisistratus. Remarking, no doubt, the great and growing 
importance of the Icarian mid-winter celebration, he legal 
ised the popular winter holiday of Dionysus at Athens, and 
made various innovations in the direction of the new Icarian 
fashion of representing plays. And here we come to an 
important and more or less certain date. In 535 B.C., eight 
years before Pisistratus died, Thespis of Icaria brought 
out his first play, at the winter or Lenaean 1 festival in 
Athens. 2 Thus the Icarian Satyr-play and tragedy were 
brought to Athens just at the time when Dionysus came 
into power, so to speak. In fact their introduction was his 

This renovation and new consecration of their imme 
morial merry-makings, and of the time-honoured rites 
resorted to for ensuring a fruitful year on the Attic country 
side, gave immense satisfaction to the people at large. It 
lifted a load of apprehension and discontent from their 
hearts, and the echo of their longing, made less mournful by 

1 Ribbeck maintains with good arguments that the Icarians held to 
the old name for Gamelion, which was Lenaeon (see Plutarch s fragments 
on Hesiod, No. 29). That Athens once used this name for the month of 
the winter - festival of Dionysus - Lenaeus (for this name see Hesychius) 
and of the biennial processions of the Lenae (Strabo, x. 468) or Lenides 
(Eustath. on Iliad, vi. 132) to the mountains, especially to Parnassus 
(Pausan. X. iv. 3), is proved by its survival in Asia Minor, whither Athenians 
early transplanted it (see the inscriptions cited by Pape in his Diet, of 
Proper Names}. The Boeotians possibly had the same name for the same 
season (Hes. Works and Days, 504), though Plutarch (fragments on Hesiod, 
No. 29) denies it. 

2 The precise date depends upon the Parian Marble, but not the fact, 
which is very widely vouched for. It is noteworthy that the trustworthiness 
of dates given on the Parian Marble has received confirmation, here and 
there, by the newly-recovered Athenian Constitution of Aristotle. See Mr. 
Kenyon s note on Damasias, p. 33. 


trust in the coming of the god, is still heard in a prayer 
written by Sophocles, and uttered for luckless Antigone at 
a time of breathless crisis in her fate. 1 

" Come, for all the people tremble at the threatened harm. 
Pass thou with purifying footsteps down Parnassus slope, 
ay ! or cross the booming gulf of waters. Help ! Leader 
thou of fire-flaming planets in the dance. Help ! Overseer 
thou of cries men make through sleepless watches of the 
night. Show thee now, son of Zeus begotten ! Come and 
bring from Naxos in thy train the frenzied Thyiades thy 
handmaidens, who all the livelong night dance thee, 
thee lacchos, O dispenser thou and steward for mankind." 
The peculiar and startling locution here may be supposed 
to represent the acts of the dancing Thyiades, as a sort of 
materialisation of his power in them, their dancing is the 
god in them made manifest. The invocation which intro 
duces this same prayer well shows the wide tolerance which 
gathered into Athenian worship epithets and rites from every 
home of the god in Greece ; for many are his homes, and 
numerous indeed were the places of his birth. " Thou who 
bearest many names, Semele s delight, who watchest over 
far-famed Icaria 2 and rulest where all are welcome, in the 
sheltered lowlands of Eleusinian Deo. O dweller in 
Thebes of the softly gliding Ismenus, in Thebes the mother 
of Bacchanals. Thou hast shown thee amid the smoky 
glare of flaming torches, arriving on Parnassus mountain of 
twin peaks. Near these two peaks live nymphs close to 
the cave Corycian, and there flow Castalia s fountain springs. 

1 Antigone, 1115-1152. 

2 That this is the right reading can hardly be denied by any one who has 
read pp. 96 and 97 of Dr. Merriam s Report. The conditions upon which 
Professor Jebb said he would read Icaria (see, in his ist edition, note on 
line 1119) are now fulfilled, and he is half convinced (cf. his 2d edition). 


Yea, the ivy tangled in the folds of Nysa s 1 hills, the tender 
green of lofty promontories covered with luxuriant vines 
send down to Thebes the Saviour God, and her streets are 
filled with the heavenly clangour of his echoing name. 
Thebes, dearly of him and of his thunder-smitten mother 
dearly loved ! " Truly the ring of a most genuine piety 
sounds in many a passage of the Attic tragedians, but here 
Sophocles has certainly surpassed himself. The anxiety 
felt by Dionysus peasant worshippers was that their god 
should be duly propitiated. They wished to conciliate his 
favour for Athens and Attica. Nothing could accomplish 
this unutterably desirable end but the official celebration of 
his festivals. 

In satisfying this demand by his two feasts, the Anthe- 
steria and the Lenaea, Pisistratus called Thespis and Tragedy 
from Icaria. But this performance of plays, once trans 
ferred to the broader horizon of the capital, soon grew to 
such proportions that it threatened to crowd out the indis 
pensable and immemorial religious acts required to be 
done by all worshippers for the health of the state. Thus 
the deep religious purpose for which Dionysus and his wor 
ship were honoured at Athens would have been unfulfilled. 
To remedy this came the later institution of the Greater 
Dionysia, by which the most important representations of 
tragedies and comedies were relegated to a third and al 
most exclusive theatrical occasion made for the worship of 
Dionysus. The month of March was fixed upon for this 
festival, which seems to have been wonderfully free from 
the trammels of mystic nature-worship. It was indeed a 
new institution made in the spirit of the democratic reforms 

1 On Nysa, see Appendix III. at the end of this lecture, upon the second 
birth and eastern affinities of Dionysus. 


of Clisthenes to honour the people s most beloved god. 
The name by which it was sometimes called was the 
City Dionysia^ but its commoner name was the Greater 

The gorgeous pageants of Venice in all her glory seem 
unspontaneous and almost insincere when compared with 
this great Athenian glorification of Dionysus. Patriotism 
intensified, exultant freedom, delight in beauty, delicate 
skill in all graceful arts, animated and adorned this World- 
Exhibition of high thoughts and melodious speech. There 
Dionysus shone, a leader of the Muses, and the Graces 
moved in his train. So transfigured was the Thracian god 
that all the savagery of his ancient worship now became a 
unison of speech and song and dance, a dazzling mani 
festation of all concordant arts, wherein there shone the 
blithest and the best that sculpture ever shaped or poetry 

And now it is time to contemplate the god himself in 
all his Attic and comprehensive majesty. The enlightened 
Attic worshipper of Bacchus sought at the Athenian Diony- 
siac theatre, in the presence of the older gods, solemnly 
represented by their priests, a relief from that sense of 
spiritual oppression from which the human conscience has 
never been entirely free. As an analogy to the idea that 
" in Adam s fall we sinned all," may be found underlying 
this Attic ceremonial the idea of a vicarious complicity in 
the old-time murder of the Icarian king, 1 and of a predes 
tined responsibility for the sad fate of Erigone. 

All the great Athenian tragedies were acts of worship 

1 To speak of Icarius as a king is to use the language of the later and 
Athenian version of the legend which makes him king of Athens. This 
seems to be the version alluded to by Hyginus, Fab. 130, and by Pausanias, 
I. ii. 7, end. 


dedicated to Dionysus, 1 but one of them is called the 
Bacchanals, the last but one of all plays written by the 
latest born of the three great tragedians, Euripides. The 
Bacchanals enacts and explains as its sole plot and plan, 
utters as the burden of all its choral songs, the fulness of the 
power of Dionysus. Here no aspect of the Bacchic god 
head is forgotten. Nowhere in all literature is the strange 
baffling quality of Dionysus presented with such complete 
ness and consistency as in this play of Euripides. Here is a 
tragedy written with the sincerely pious intent of revealing the 
spirit and the will of the god a veritable Gospel according to 
Euripides. A gospel truly, and of Dionysus ; but of what 
Dionysus ? Is the god of this marvellous play the vision 
of him, that is, which was granted to Euripides in the ful 
ness of his powers a revelation from the purely Attic 
worship of Dionysus, or a reminiscence of the fiercer 
Thracian god, or is he a philosopher s fiction argued about 
and reduced to consistency until he has lost the wild-wood 
tang attached to his native self? The answer must be that 
he is not one but all of these in one. Euripides no doubt 
would be the first to feel that a poet could only gain by a 
seeming inconsistency in an attempt to interpret the most 
inconsistent of all divinities. 

Hence the many aspects of the Bacchanals. It may be 

1 This fact needs frequent reassertion in answer to those who are 
inclined to put a poet like Euripides in the position of a modern assailant 
of religion. The circumstance that he wrote tragedies at all ought to clear 
him of any such charge. As Bernhardy has most truly said, People are 
sometimes oblivious of the fact that the whole structure of Greek religious 
service and their whole scheme of nature -worship remained wholly un 
shaken and intact until the Peloponnesian war or thereabouts. Accord 
ingly such fault-finding or doubt as poets and thinkers express relates to 
morals and to certain misrepresentations of the divine nature, and did not 
come near the heart of their national religion." Litter aturgeschichte, i. 
p. 420. 


called the Passion-play of Attica, and it has been compared to 
the Medieval Morality. And yet a certain loftiness of religious 
tone does not here exclude the most unmistakable reminis 
cences of the fierce and awful god of ancient Thrace. The 
philosophic and discerning reader may see in the mother 
who rends her own son in Agave and all her Maenad 
train a spirited personification of the power in a roaring 
mountain torrent, and of the fury of lapping flames ; but he 
will not press the point too far if he remembers that Euri 
pides wrote his play while he was staying at the court of 
Archelaus in Macedonian Pieria, that very portion of Thrace 
whence Dionysus issued. It is as if a pilgrimage to the land 
of his birth were required by the god himself of a poet 
whose presentation of the Bacchic godhead was to perpetuate 
its undimmed memory. 1 

Something wilder than religious Athens knew surrounded 
Euripides and every Athenian who visited Macedonia in 
those days. Such visitors "would hear, and from time 
to time actually see, something of a religious custom 
in which the habit of an earlier world might seem to 
survive. As they saw the lights flitting over the moun 
tains, and heard the wild sharp cries of the women, there 
was presented a singular fact in the more prosaic actual life 
of a later time, an enthusiasm otherwise relegated to the 
wonderland of a distant past, in which a supposed primitive 
harmony between man and nature renewed itself." 2 It is 

1 It has already been noted above that Pisistratus, during his second 
exile, spent most of his time in Thrace. On returning this was his 
second restoration he was enabled to encourage the innovations of 
Thespis, and give official sanction to the peasant worship of the Thracian 
god. See Aristotle s Constitution of Athens, 15, and Mr. Kenyon s refer 
ence there to Herodotus allusion to supplies drawn by Pisistratus airo 

2 Here, as below, I quote from Mr. Pater s essay. 


well known that the women of the house of Philip and 
Alexander were carried into measureless excesses by the 
possession of the god. They were Bacchanals with a 
vengeance, and all the dreadful deeds attributed by Euri 
pides to his Bacchanals would therefore be looked upon 
by them as a poetic amplification only of what lay within 
their own experience. "Later sisters of Centaur and 
Amazon, the Maenads, as they beat the earth in strange 
sympathy with its waking up from sleep, or as in the 
description of the messenger, in the play of Euripides, 
they lie sleeping in the glen revealed among the morning 
mists, were themselves indeed as remnants flecks left 
here and there, and not quite evaporated under the hard 
light of a later and common day of a certain cloud-world 
which had once covered all things in a veil of mystery." 

It is indeed marvellous that our poet in this very play, so 
well fitted to please a semi -barbarous Macedonian taste, 
so full of the proto-Thracian spirit of Dionysus, has been 
able to remain true to the loftier teachings of Anaxagoras 
and Socrates. The fact nevertheless remains that a leaven, 
half of philosophy and wholly religious, so pervades this 
play that it not only sums up the past but prefigures the 
future. It contains, revealed here and there in brief flashes, 
what may be called a Messianic vision. Less manifestly 
perhaps than Virgil, and yet perhaps more deeply, Euripides 
is moved by a vision long beforehand of religious truth to 
come. In the sorrows and the joys of Dionysus and his 
train, touches come here and there which are, it would 
seem, the outcome of a Dionysus-granted power of prophecy. 
Euripides had vision long beforehand of the mysteries 
of faithful sorrowing, the ecstasies of Christian joy. This 
is no new discovery, for in the days of the early Church 


the Christian poet Nonnus devoted his energies to a 
long and most loving work, chronicling with minute and 
pious care, often in most sweetly flowing verse, all that has 
ever been sung or said of Dionysus. Still more striking 
was the appreciation of Dionysus shown by the pious com 
piler of a curious work called Christus Pattens. To this 
devout Christian s uncramped and unpremeditated piety was 
given the vision of a real analogy between the passion of 
Christ and the passion of Dionysus. Moreover we owe, 
strangely enough, the preservation of some important lines 
in the play of Euripides to his curious cento. 

And now before analysing the Bacchanals one caution 
must be given. None must suppose that the personage 
named Dionysus, who proclaims himself to be the god dis 
guised in mortal form, is the only presentation of the god 
head. This disguised Dionysus is in some ways still what 
we may suppose the one speaker used by Thespis in his 
earliest Icarian ventures to have been. He is not Dionysus 
but only a focal point around which gather, with endless and 
flickering play of change, the constantly shifting figures in 
the plot. The Maenads who followed the Dionysus-man 
from Asia, and who form the chorus of the play, are them 
selves the god. The Dionysus-driven women of Thebes 
who against their will are dashed from home to revel on the 
mountain side, these are but passive receivers of the Bacchic 
godhead "Impotent pieces of the game he plays." 

King Pentheus, though he loudly proclaims himself the 
foe of Dionysus, is only possessed by the mad frenzy sent 
by Zagreus-Dionysus, the wild Thracian huntsman who has 
found his furious way through Cretan legends. Dionysus, 
in some of his many phases, is manifested by any and every 
personage in the play. Even the scene of its enactment is 


full of the god, for it is the holy spot in Thebes l where 
Semele died in bringing Dionysus prematurely to his birth. 
We see the thunder-smitten ruins where Semele was slain. 
Their smoking embers are hallowed by a fitful flame. This 
is the god of fire actually present, and to him the spot had 
long been made consecrate by order of Cadmus, when Cad 
mus still was king. To mark them twice his own, Dionysus 
has covered these smoking ruins with his cherished vine. 

The play opens with the arrival at this place in Thebes 
of the youthful god who soliloquises : Behold Zeus s son 
arrived at Thebes, where fire consumed his mother Semele. 
He surveys the scene, and proclaims his own presence 
marked by flame and by the vine. Then our Dionysus, in 
mortal disguise, looks out upon the world and sees the same 
godhead made manifest on every side, and recognised every 
where as pre-eminent. Nature with her floods and flames 
and all her luxury of green is his, for his power has made it ; 
and man also, up to the present moment, has been prompt 
to pay him homage. The Lydians on their fields flooded 
with gold, the Phrygians and Persia s burning plains, the 
forts of Bactria and the snow-swept reaches of Media, all 
Araby the blest with the swarming cities of Asia Minor, 
have acknowledged the god. Now Greece must bow the 
knee before him. His night-long revels must be loved ; and 
the reveller, in order no doubt to keep before him a sign of 
the star-flecked sky at eve, at midnight, and at dawn, must 
adopt the garb beloved of Dionysus a dappled fawn skin. 

The god made man proceeds to tell what brought him to 
Thebes. The madding impulses that Dionysus sends invited 

1 Cf. Pausanias, IX. xii. 3 : 0a<rt S ol G^/Moi, Kadon r??s d/f/307r6X ea?y 
dyopd afaaiv e0 TJ/J.UV ireiroiTjTat., KaS/xou TO dpxcuov oiK.lav elvac 

TOVTOV 5 Kal es 


by the insults heaped upon his dearest mother Semele at 
Thebes, and by an impious resistance there offered to his wor 
ship, have seized and carried away the womankind of all the 
town. The men are slower, more stubborn and prone to fight, 
though the battle be a losing one. The women of Cadmus 
house have gone stark mad and have left their homes to 
revel in the wilderness of Cithaeron, and, lest they should 
not be filled enough with his power, Dionysus in the flesh 
now goes to them, and leaves those other Dionysus-driven 
creatures, his Maenad followers who came to Thebes with 
him from far-off Asia. With his exit toward Mount 
Cithaeron ends the opening and introductory scene of the 
play its prologue. 

In the act of going Dionysus makes a sign at which the 
Asiatic Maenads, the Bacchanals from whom the play is 
named, troop wildly into the theatre ; and the street around 
Pentheus royal palace resounds with the beating of drums 
and Bacchic cries. The disguised Bacchus, the man- 
Dionysus, their youthful captain, is gone, but the god 
Dionysus still is there, and his voice is heard in the strains 
now sung by this Bacchanalian throng. 

They tell of their weary journeyings made sweet by 
Dionysus love. They warn the polluted and the profane 
to beware and give way, for the god is to speak in them. 
Then comes a divine song which tells of blessed mysteries. 
Blest is he who hallows his manner of life, and cleaves with 
his soul most straitly to the Thiasos fulfilled with the god, 
the Thiasos madly scouring the mountains ; for thus shall 
his soul be purged and made most clean. Yea, and with 
the worship of the god must be joined reverence for the 
great mother goddess Cybele. " Then on, Bacchanals, on ! 
ye Bacchants, lead ye Dionysus home to Thebes." 


The next strain sings of thunder - smitten Semele, of 
Zeus, who snatched her babe to his thigh, whence it came 
in due season to full and fated birth. 1 

" Thebes," so shouts the Maenad throng, " Thebes, the 
nurse of Semele, deck thee now and yield to Bacchic 

Branches of ivy or of oak 

Take thou, a very Bacchanal ; 
Nor let the Bacchant s dappled cloak 

Of fawn-skin from thy shoulders fall, 
White-fringe it all with wool-tufts small ; 
The ferule wield with reverent care, 
And of its wantonness beware." 

And now the risen surge of song beats higher still, and 
higher rises the quickening pulse of the inflowing god, for 
they cry 

Soon shall the country rejoice in the dance, 
Soon with his revellers Bacchus advance, 
Into the hills, the hills shall he fare. 

Then for a time not Dionysus, but a peculiar aspect of 
Zeus is the theme of the sacred song. They sing of the 
Zeus of Crete, who is after all not the father of Dionysus but 
Dionysus himself. Euripides certainly was conscious of 
this, and he means at least to suggest that Crete was a 
debatable ground, where the legends of Dionysus and 
Zeus met and overlapped. The Curetes in their Cretan 
haunts, the wildly dancing Corybantes so picturesquely sung 
of here, surrounded the birth and protected the rearing of 

1 Dr. Sandys, in his excellent note on this passage, refers to the epithet 
rjfUT&effTos, half-matured, used of Dionysus by Nonnus, Dionysiaca, xlv. 
99 ; see also i. 5, and he also cites Ovid, F. iii. 717, puer ut posses maturo 
tempore nasci, expletum patrio corpore matris onus. See upon this curious 
feature of the myths the Appendix at the end of this lecture. 


this Cretan Zeus-Dionysus. The mother goddess Rhea is 
associated with him in Crete, just as Cybele is united with 
Dionysus in Phrygian worship. Moreover the Maenads 
of our chorus immediately pass to a song of the invention 
of various Bacchic instruments the drum, the flute, and 
the cymbal. We hear that all these were instruments for 
praising Cybele and Dionysus, or, if so you choose to say it, 
of Rhea and of Cretan Zeus. 

That this whole song was profoundly religious is no doubt 
sufficiently evident, but the religious intent is nowhere more 
undisguisedly present than in its closing strain, where the 
ecstasies of pious revellings are wildly sung with the cry, 
"Evoe, Bacchus leads on and hearts are thrilled," which 
comes from promptings of the god himself. After this the 
miracles worked by Dionysus are touched upon. Here and 
elsewhere in the play the poet tells of the miraculous flow of 
milk and honey 1 that springs from the ground at the bidding 
of his Bacchant revellers. On they go, beating drums, singing 

1 In this and other passages of the play where Dionysus followers 
show miraculous command over honey, Euripides indicates his familiarity 
with an out-of-the-way legend of Dionysus at home in the island of Euboea, 
which lay near by, under the jealous governance of Athens, and which was 
largely occupied in the poet s day by Athenian colonists. According to 
these legends Dionysus was reared in Euboea (anciently called Macris, 
or Long-island) by Aristaeus, the giver of honey, who was his constant 
instructor. His nurse in Euboea was a nymph, who is sometimes said to 
have been named Macris. Nysa, a name familiar as applied in many 
Dionysus-stories to the moist and wooded place where the fiery god came 
to birth, was a second name given to this Euboean nurse of Dionysus. 
Whether her name was Nysa or Macris, this Euboean maiden was Aris 
taeus daughter. The remarkable point to remember from these Euboean 
legends is the prominence in them of milk and of honey, two good gifts 
from which Dionysus is dissociated in the earliest Attic story. Further 
more, it is noticeable that Euripides, in weaving these bright Euboean 
strands into his play, made it plain that he regarded himself as a religious 
interpreter for the whole of Greece and not for Attica alone. For an 
account of the wider scope of the legends of Dionysus birth at Nysa, see 
Appendix III. at the end of this chapter. 


Evoe to the Evian god. Phrygian shouts they shout, while 
flutes trill in their revels to thrill them with rippling joys. 
But while we look, as with a flash from many white limbs 
darting forward, they have passed ere has died on the ear 
their shout, " On, Bacchants, on ! " 

Now the plot begins to thicken, and the three central 
acts, courses, or periods what you will now begin. The 
whole play has five parts, of which the introductory one is 
already over. At the end comes the fifth and concluding 
part, a winding-up of the play. 

In the three central acts now beginning is portrayed the 
Passion, as it were, of Dionysus. In the first act, Reason 
fails to turn the enemy, King Pentheus, from his impious 
purposes against the god. Here, at the very outset, the 
flutter of frenzy to come hovers over Pentheus the arch- 
sinner, and he already belongs to Dionysus. In the second 
act comes the consummation of blinded Pentheus sin. 
The man-Dionysus, the vicar of the god in Thebes, is seized 
and thrown into prison. The Maenads from Asia are 
threatened with violence, and the Theban revellers on 
Mount Cithaeron are hunted, and some of them taken 
and thrown into prison. But close upon the heels of sin 
treads punishment. The third act sets forth the nature 
and the manner of an awful chastisement inflicted upon 
King Pentheus, on all his house and on the land of 
Thebes. An earthquake comes first to reveal the wrath 
and majesty of outraged Dionysus. Out of the midst of 
the earthquake the man-Dionysus emerges from his dark 
prison, reminding Eleusinian hearers of Persephone restored 
from the realms of Hades to Demeter and the day. He 
comes to foil and flout his half -crazed persecutor, as 
appears in the next event on the stage. Madness seizes 


Pentheus, madness and the judgment of flood and fire, 
those attendant ministers of the earthquake which are 
personified in the Theban Maenads. These finally rend 
Pentheus and reduce him to a shapeless and dismembered 
heap of fragments. The wages of sin is madness first, 
and finally death. So ends the Passion of Dionysus in 
the destruction of his persecutor in whose dismember 
ment we see rehearsed the tragic fate of Dionysus-Zagreus. 
The conclusion or Exodus of the play sets forth a moral 
that recalls the purifying ritual introduced with Delphian 
Apollo s sanction from the border town of Eleutherae. 1 
The moral in point is, that there is need of Dionysus help 
in recovering from harms brought about by his own power, 
and with it is coupled an urgent representation of the folly 
of all resistance to the god. 

Such is a brief outline of the central acts and conclusion 
of the play, whose noble introduction has been examined 
already at length. It now remains to take an equally care 
ful view of these four main parts. To begin with the first 
scene, where the intending sinner is still on his probation. 
The transgressor in question is Pentheus the son of Agave, 
Semele s sister, into whose hands his grandfather Cadmus 
has resigned the royal power at Thebes. Tiresias the seer 
is first seen upon the stage. His name is Tiresias, but he 
has suffered a Bacchic change into something not himself; 
and his gospel is the method of Bacchic madness. This 
Tiresias is not the dread shade that defies in Homeric 
song the power of darkness and seems to live in death. 
Nor is he the Tiresias of Sophocles, that majestic incarna 
tion of wisdom whose mighty wrath and burning scorn 
cowed even the spirit of Oedipus the Great. Tiresias in 

1 See above, Appendix II., on Dionysus of Eleutherae. 


the Bacchanals is grotesque, if we forget that Dionysus 
has entered into him and possessed him, when he comes 
upon the stage attired in a Bacchic garb, ill-suited alike to 
his years and his priestly office. He is bent upon taking 
his part in Bacchic revellings, and is in the act of seeking 
another a companion old like himself, and like himself ill- 
suited for the dance. This companion appears ; he is the 
royal Cadmus, and shows at the outset eagerness even 
greater than that of Tiresias for gambolling in the wilder 
ness of Cithaeron, saying : 

Where leads the dance, where must we take our turn 

And toss our gray-haired heads ? Interpret thou, 

Aged Tiresias ; lead my old age, 

For thou art wise. The livelong day and night 

Untiring with my thyrsus I ll smite earth. 

Tis sweet for us when we our age forget. 1 

Tiresias ends by seeming the less grotesque of the two ; 
it is he who turns apologist for Dionysus, and very skilfully 
his argument begins : 

" We reason not o er nicely of the gods, 
They are the heirlooms by our fathers left, 
As old as time ; no logic shall destroy them, 
Not though the keenest wit should prompt the thought. 

Scoff not at old men dancing, mock not at these ivy crowns 
on our silvered heads," he says, 

1 The merit of having established, by changing one letter in the MS., 
the undoubted reading here belongs to Milton. See Dr. Sandys on this 
line. He says of Milton s emendations, "They were written in the 
margin of his copy of the edition of Euripides printed by Paul Stephens 
at Geneva in 1602, 2 vols. 410, now in possession of Henry Halford 
Vaughan, Esq., of Upton Castle, Pembroke. Milton bought it in 1634, 
the very year in which he wrote Comus, which was acted at Michaelmas of 
that year, and shows in several points special familiarity with this and 
other plays of Euripides. Cf. especially Comus, 297-301 with Iph. T., 


The god hath not distinguished if the young 
Or if the older man should join the dance, 
Claiming from all alike service and honour. 

But look, Tiresias and Cadmus cease their talk and retire 
up the stage. Hurrying footsteps interrupt them, and they 
see from afar Pentheus ; he comes breathless, and quivers 
from head to foot when he pauses. This sort of tremor 
is a well-known sign of approaching madness. The tie is 
close that binds the aged Cadmus of Sidon to this new-comer. 
Pentheus is twice over Cadmus grandson ; through Echion 
his father earth-born, sprung from the dragon s teeth which 
Cadmus sowed near the spring of Dirce at Thebes ; and 
through his mother Agave, Cadmus own daughter. Accord 
ingly in this scene where Pentheus is most nearly his native 
self he shows a certain affection for Cadmus, the only glad 
ness in him, for he was otherwise all grief, even as his name 
implied. 1 Tiresias and Cadmus moved our laughter when 
they first entered ; contrasted now with Pentheus they take 
on the semblance of calm and almost of dignity. 

Words chase each other out of Pentheus mouth. 
He was abroad. News came of Theban women revelling 
on Cithaeron, wild with that strange impostor Dionysus. 
" It is a shame ! these women cloak impure desires with 
professed piety. But," he screams, " I have caught some 
of them " ; and then adds, with a cruel sneer, " I am after the 
others. Agave my mother, and her sisters Ino and 
Autonoe, are of the band, and all shall be prisoned." 
Thinking of the Dionysus-man, he adds : 

To us a being strange is come, they say, 
From Lydian lands, a wizard and a cheat, 

1 His name is a Greek equivalent for Tristan, the man of sorrow. 


With golden curls and fragrant flowing hair. 
His wine-flushed glance hath Aphrodite s charm, 1 
And day and night he wanders with them there. 

Here Pentheus refers to the revellers on Cithaeron. Soon, 
losing all self-control, he says blasphemously : 

I ll end the thumping of his thyrsus-wand 
And all the tossing of his locks : his head 
Shall fall, by this hand from his body sundered. 

Sneers at Dionysus fire-birth and Semele s fame and fate ; 
scoffs at Dionysus second birth from Zeus s thigh, 2 coupled 
with insults heaped upon the memory of Dionysus well- 
beloved mother, now follow quickly, and the blasphemer is 
so wholly engrossed in his blaspheming that he fails to see 
the two old men who have been hovering in the background 
awaiting opportunity to address him. Now, with a wild 
start at their Bacchic trappings, Pentheus whirls a torrent 
of angry words upon them. He fairly goes mad with rage. 
Tiresias is responsible ; Tiresias must be gaoled with the 
women captured from Cithaeron. A gleam of moderation 
revisits him just here ; after all, Tiresias is too old for such 
treatment, he says. Those women, though, must and shall 
be kept from wine. " Wine-bibbing is no meat for woman 
kind ! " exclaims the tumultuous-minded king. The quality 
of Tiresias, as Sophocles portrayed him, now shows in his 
wrathful answer to the king. 

1 Dr. Sandys is very happy in quoting here two lines of the Comus, 
752, 753, which very probably were inspired by this passage : 

What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that, 
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn ? 

- Here as in other blasphemies of Pentheus we have a picturesque state 
ment of the doubts and difficulties felt by reasoning men concerning certain 
grotesque features in the myth of Dionysus. See Appendix at the end of 
this chapter. 


Sham wisdom oils and glibly wags thy tongue, 
But all thy argument is foolishness. 
A bold man skilled in overmastering speech, 
If sense abides not in him, harms the state. 

And here Tiresias, inspired less by the god perhaps than 
by the over-subtle reasonings about gods and men which he 
so eloquently scorned earlier in the play, subjects the tale 
of Dionysus second birth to a treatment half meant in 
earnest and half intended as an answer to the fool according 
to his folly. 1 To understand the subtlety of his argument 
here, it must be understood that meros is the Greek word 
meaning piece or part, while meros means thigh. 

"Scorn not," says the subtle seer Tiresias, "but rever 
ently repeat the tale how Zeus plucked to Olympus the babe 
unborn. Thence Hera strove to fling him down, but she 
was foiled. To defeat her Zeus took a piece," a meros 
"from earth -encircling ether. This phantom babe was 
abandoned to Hera. The real Dionysus babe, meanwhile, 
was firmly sewed with golden needles into Zeus s thigh " 
his meros. After this sophism Tiresias ends his justification 
of the ways of Dionysus by telling Pentheus of the god s 
miraculous power. " Bacchus," he says, " is a prophet and a 
warrior. The radiant peaks of lofty Parnassus are redolent 
of the god by day and night 

Thou shalt descry him still : on Delphi s rocks 

He bounds torch-dancing o er their twin-peak d alps, 

Flinging and whirling the leafy thyrsus-wand." 

Another phase of Tiresias defence of the god is an answer 
to the king s wild accusation taxing the Bacchanals with 
wantonness. This passage is worth remembering, because, 

1 For further discussion of this curious defence of the faith, see Appendix 
III. at the end of this chapter. 


taken with a passage from the messenger s speech, 1 it con 
tains our poet s pious understanding of the revels of Bacchan 
alian women, and because Milton admired it, and expanded it 
in a well-known passage of his Comus? It runs as follows: 3 

1 The other passage is one of the most wonderful in the play, vv. 677- 
688 : 

Late as to pasture forth I led my kine. . . . 
While gleaming sunrise sped its warmth to earth, 
I saw three bands of women-revellers : 
The first Autonoe ruled, the second band 
Thy mother Agave. Ino led the third. 
Lapped all in slumber lay their limbs relaxed, 
Some couched on heaped-up twigs of silver fir, 
Some pillowed on oak-leaves, their heads low laid 
Reclining where they might, yet as they should ; 
Not right thy word, that, overcome with wine 
And with the sounding flute, they left their lords 
To hunt for Cypris through the wilderness. 

2 Directly inspired by vv. 314-318 which follow in the text, indirectly 
by the ones quoted in the last note, and by the wildwood spirit of the 
Bacchanals which he has woven in a wonderfully original fashion into the 
whole of his masque, are Milton s justly celebrated lines in praise of 
chastity, Comus, 418-475. The process of picturesque expansion to which 
the most classical of English poets has thus subjected the most romantic of 
the Greek classics has its parallel in Goethe s expansion of Iph. Taur. 
1401, 1402 : 

A sister s love thou feelest, goddess, too ; 
I yielded but to that, I love my kin, 

into the following, where the terseness of the original is sadly lacking : 
Du liebst, Diane, deinen holden Bruder 
Vor allem was dir Erd und Himmel bietet, 
Und wendest dein jungfraulich Angesicht 
Nach seinem ew gen Lichte sehnend still. 
O lass den einz gen Spatgefundnen mir 
Nicht in der Finsterniss des Wahnsinns rasen. 

It is curious to find Milton and Goethe playing so decidedly the part of 
romanticists as compared with Euripides ; it is equally curious to find 
in these instances so complete an exemplification of Mr. Sidney Colvin s 
definition of classical and romantic writing : "in classical writing every 
idea is called up to the mind as nakedly as possible, and at the same time 
as distinctly ; it is exhibited in white light and left to produce its effect by 
its own unaided power. In romantic writing, on the other hand, all 
objects are exhibited as it were through a coloured and iridescent atmo 
sphere." Preface to Selections from Landor. 3 Vv. 314-318. 


Not Dionysus strength, when Cypris calls, 

Shall make a woman chaste. Inborn and bred, 

Bone of her bone, is thorough chastity 

Where she is chaste. Tis worth our weighing well : 

She that is chaste may not corrupted be 

For all her Bacchanalian revellings. 

Finally, despairing utterly of converting so blatant a 
sinner as Pentheus, the prophet shows a sad foreknowledge 
in his closing words : 

Thou art crazed to death, nor hast thou drugs, 
Nor findest none to cure thee, drugged with folly ! 

Now Cadmus seconds his companion s urgent reasonings 
and beseeches Pentheus not to persecute Dionysus, not 
to neglect the mountain revels, but, by leaving Thebes 
for Cithaeron, to stay at home with righteousness. After 
the plea of wisdom has failed, the voice of pleading love 
still sounds : " My son," says Cadmus, " stay at home 
with us; cross not the threshold into outer lawlessness." 
Here Cadmus strives by an ingenious way of putting his 
thought to humour in words the dangerous frenzy of 
Pentheus while he really contradicts him. Pentheus is all 
for staying at home, and therefore Cadmus talks of going 
out to the wilderness as the only real way left open for 
staying at home, a novel way of presenting the gist of the 
adage ubi bene ibi patria^ But Pentheus is obdurate, and 
Cadmus humours him still more ; granting that he may be 
right in scorning Dionysus godhead, there are considera 
tions of family policy which ought to make Pentheus wink 
at the divine pretensions of his cousin the son of Semele, 
the sister of his mother Agave. 

But all arguments and all management are vain. Pen- 

1 Or, as Menander puts it, T yap /caAws irpavcrovTi ira<ra. yr] Trarpts. 


theus can no longer contain himself. He fairly foams 
with rage at the end of Cadmus expostulation. Fiercely 
he turns away, and despatches men to the holy places 
where Tiresias practises augury. These must be entirely 
destroyed. Against the cheating stranger, the Dionysus- 
man, he sends guards saying : 

That girl-shaped vagrant, bringer of this pest 
We know not of, the man-shaped Dionysus, 
The worker of abominations Stone him ! 

Thus cries frantic Pentheus, and Tiresias bodingly mur 
murs to Cadmus as they go, 

May Pentheus never bring 
His namesake Grief, O Cadmus, to thy home. 

This first act of the play now closes with a lyric cry 
from the Maenad worshippers of Dionysus. 

Holiness with her pinions of gold is summoned to 
earth that she may record the blasphemies of Pentheus. 
Dionysus is praised as the god of garlands and feasts, of 
dancing, thyrsus in hand, and of sweet shrillings from flutes. 
His gifts are wine and riddance of lingering sadness, with 
sleep that closes great joy. " Lawless folly ends in harm. 
Peace and soundness of mind under the watchful gods bring 
concord and happiness. But," the song and its singers main 
tain, "there is wisdom and wisdom. Man s wisdom can 
bring him to folly : 

No true wisdom comes from being wise 

In dizzy thought that past man s level flies." 

But enough of calm reasonings, the lyric song now 
breaks away from contemplation, and revelry is its theme. 
Revelry and some place not curst like Thebes with Pentheus 


sin. " Oh for Cyprus, Aphrodite s isle ! Lead on to Pieria 
and high Olympus steep, great Bromius ! " The course of 
song finally grows more calm. Through jollity of feasts, 
through prosperity and peace that breeds stout men, the 
lyric ode goes on its way, showing the mercy of Dionysus 
and his loving-kindness. 

To him whose fortunes rise, 

To him whose hopes decline, 

He gives glad gifts alike ; to none denies 

The painless joys of wine. 

At the end comes a prayer which is partly an argument : 

Through every night and day 

To live through life the happy way 

From froward men withdrawn apart ! 

For me the throngs of lowlier men ; their creed, 

Their way of life, be graven on my heart ! 

Thus closes the first great act, which we may call the 
Probation of Pentheus. The second great act which now 
begins gives an account of the Sin of Pentheus^ which is the 
Passion of Dionysus^ and the third and last great act depicts 
the Perdition of Pentheus. 

At the opening of the second act a guard leads in the 
Dionysus-man, the Asian reveller whose unresisting ways had 
won his captors hearts, and awed them into recognition of 
his godhead. This prisoner is welcomed by Pentheus with 
blasphemous exultation, although a warning comes with 
him. The guard who leads Dionysus prisoner reports the 
first of the miracles that foreshadow the awful judgment of 
Dionysus. The women from Cithaeron, in whose capture 
Pentheus so exulted, have been freed as by enchant 
ment from their bonds. Self- loosened, their shackles fell 


away and invisible hands have burst their prison bars. 
Pentheus hears all this unmoved, and scorns the pressing 
appeal of the rough and ready guard to change from his 
wilful impiety. Turning to the prisoner, the king pays an 
unwilling tribute to his loveliness in words that well describe 
the latter-day Dionysus, a type with which we are most 

Thy frame is not unshapely, stranger, 
Not wrestling made this hair of thine so long. 
Its gracious flow half hides thy very cheek ; 
Thy skin is white to help thy scoundrel schemes. 
Not sunburnt thou, but pampered in the shade. 

Then begins a strange duel of words between Pentheus and 
the god. "What is thy name?" King Pentheus harshly 
asks. "Not hard to know, for I was born in flowery 
Tmolus," is the answer. "What are these new rites of 
thine ? " the king then asks. At the answer, " They are of 
Dionysus," Pentheus loses all self-control, and pours out 
abuse upon Zeus and Semele and the night orgies in honour 
of Dionysus. "What shape," the king again asks, "do 
these precious orgies take?" "That may not be told to 
men unholy ; the revellers have gifts well worth the know 
ing, though thou shalt not hear." Flurried by the god s 
unwavering tone of reprimand, Pentheus nevertheless puts 
a bold face upon the matter, and, after sneering, invites 
still sterner reproof by asking how the god looked when 
he showed himself to the faithful. " Even as he willed," 
the answer comes, " not shaped by my command." 

After this the king crazily dashes out with wild attacks 
upon the Bacchic ritual, but at each onset he is checked 
and checkmated by stern reprisals from the inflexible god 
whose human representative stands before him. Gradually 


Pentheus loses his head so completely that he has to be 
guided, so to speak, towards his own iniquitous purpose. 
His sin approaches consummation when, in answer to 
Dionysus words " Tell me my fate, thy threatened terrors 
name," he declares that he will shear off his prisoner s soft 
and silken locks. 

"My hair is consecrate, I wear it for the god," the 
beauteous stranger answers. In spite of this and repeated 
warnings, Pentheus snatches away the thyrsus-wand, and is 
for putting " the insolent fellow " in prison. 

At this point the possession by Dionysus of the Dionysus- 
man culminates and gradually becomes complete. Till now 
he distinguished between himself and the god, but now 
he declares confidently that the god will free him, and to 
silence Pentheus sneers, he says of Dionysus 

Now present, he now sees what I endure ! 

Soon after this the culmination com^s, and he is com 
pletely the god when he says 

He is in me : wicked and blind thou art. 

Pentheus, worsted in argument, is about to carry the day 
by an appeal to brute force. He has Dionysus bound and 
prepared for imprisonment, each step being in spite of 
solemn warning. The most solemn of these is where the 
god says 

Thy life, thy name, thy sin thou knowest not. 

At this Pentheus spirit cowers, and all in a tremor he cries 
in a dazed way 

Pentheus, Echion s son and Agave s I am. 


And then he hears with terror from the prisoner whom his 
men are leading to confinement 

Thou and thy name are meet for deep disaster. 

" Coop the fellow in the stables," he cries in fear and anger, 
"let him dance there with dumb beasts." Speaking of sure 
requital to come speedily, the disguised Dionysus disappears 
at last with the threatening words addressed to Pentheus 

Though thou declares! Dionysus is not, 
In binding me thou art confining him. 

Now the Bacchanals sing a song of fear and woe. This 
is the winter of their discontent, and truly this darkest point 
in the play mirrors the sadness and the longing of those 
mysterious winter festivals on Mount Parnassus and in 
Attica which were always attached to the worship of 
Dionysus. The analogy of this festival, which included 
rejoicing for the new and mystic birth of the god lamented 
so lately, accounts for one theme of this song, a glad wel 
coming of the birth of Dionysus. 

"Achelous daughter Dirce makes Theban lands yield 
abundantly. Dirce, whose waters welcomed the new-born 
Dionysus and bathed him that the flames from his father s 
bolt might leave no scar," Dirce is now unfriendly to the 
revellers in whom dwells the fulness of Dionysus. 

Pentheus and his sin soon engross their song. He is a 
fierce-glaring monster fitly spawned by earth from dragon s 
teeth. They close with a prayer to Dionysus for help. As 
it proceeds this prayer becomes an incantation in the spirit 
of rude magic charms used by peasants to bring forth nature s 
power and ensure full crops. 

" Dionysus, dost thou leave thy prophets here to strive 


in vain? With brandishings of thy most golden thyrsus 
come down Olympus. Where in Nysa s wilds or on the 
heights Corycian art thou, Dionysus ? Art thou near the 
Thracian realm of singing, whose forests followed Orpheus, 
marshalled with all wild beasts in his wake ? Lo ! he comes 
over Axius. He comes with whirling Maenad train across 
the Lydias, father of plenty in the Thracian land of good 

This is the frantic prayer for help of "captive good 
attending captain ill," transmuted in the Bacchic fires of faith 
so as to become an invocation which reshapes itself at the 
close into a song of thanksgiving and praise. It ends with 
the strains of Bacchus triumphal march in order to usher 
in the Lord of Vengeance whose coming with requital is at 
hand. 1 

" Make way," so runs the burden of this song of the 
judgment of Dionysus, 

Let justice be shown and be dread, 
For justice make way and her sword ; 

1 I cannot do better than quote from Professor Tyrrell s Introduction to 
the Bacchanals, where I have found, just at the moment of going to prf 3, a 
presentation of the deep religious significance of the whole play from which 
my too belated knowledge of his admirable work has prevented me from 
profiting sufficiently. Of the various choral odes Professor Tyrrell most 
truly says : The parados and the four stasima not only are suitable in a 
degree rare in Euripides to the parts of the action at which they are 
respectively introduced, but form a whole in themselves and an elaborate 
picture of the Bacchic cult. The parodos (vv. 64-169) describes the out 
ward form and ritual of the Bacchic worship ; the first stasimon (vv. 
370-431) describes its sacred joys, the second stasimon (vv. 519-575) 
refers to the birth of the god, the third (vv. 862-911) breaks into tumultuous 
enthusiasm and anticipations of triumph, and the fourth (vv. 977-1024) 
urges on the hounds of frenzy against the violator of the rites of the 
Maenads." Professor Tyrrell refers to Pfander s Die Tragik des Euri 
pides, Bern, 1869 ; and also to Scheme s similarly striking account of the 
choral odes of the Iphigenia at Aulis, the very last play written by 


To his throat shall she set it and smite off the head 
Of Echion s earth-spawned offspring untoward, 
The godless, the lawless, the froward. 1 

With this song ends the Passion of Dionysus. Now comes 
the third and last great act, a veritable Vision of Judgment , 
which treats of the Perdition of Pentheus. It begins with 
the first revelation which this play contains of Dionysus in 
his terrific might. The god comes to the rescue of his 
suppliants, and to give judgment against the evildoer. 
Forth from the earthquake, which is Dionysus might, 2 steps 
smiling and unharmed the prisoner of a moment since. 
The veil of the palace of Pentheus has been rent, but Pen 
theus, more and more dazed and crazed, is still unabashed. 
He is for further harm to Dionysus, but ere he attempts it 
he listens to a messenger from Cithaeron. There the might 
of the god has shown itself in a judgment as it were of fire. 
Crashing down the hills and spreading terror and ruin far 
and wide the lava-stream of Maenad women has proclaimed 
their lord s resistless might. This appears next in the com 
ing of madness which enters the guilty soul of Pentheus. 
Crazed by his own rising frenzy and mocked by the dis 
guised Dionysus, who leads him towards death, Pentheus 
goes to spy out the Maenads at their revels on Cithaeron. 
He is himself madly accoutred as a Bacchanal. 

Off there on Cithaeron comes the final execution of the 
will of Dionysus upon the luckless king. Perched high on 
a pine tree, by a mad freak of his own which the disguised 

1 Vv. 1010-1013. This is the last song of the chorus. 

2 The chief authority for this statement is in this and other passages of 
the Bacchanals, and in the identification of Dionysus with fire. Cf. also 
a fragment relating to Bacchic orgies from the Edani of Aeschylus, 
Dind. 55 : \f/a\/j.6s dAaXdfci ravp6(f)doyyoL 5 virofj.VKu>i>Tai iroBlv 

fopepoi [unoi, rviravov 5 ei/cajv &<r6 viroyaiov 


Dionysus made haste to gratify before disappearing in a 
pillar of fire, Pentheus is spied by the Maenads. They 
whirl the tree to the ground and, mad themselves with 
Dionysus, they look on the king as a mountain -ranging 
lion. 1 Thus these frenzied women surround him, now 
darting and dancing light as flickering flames, and now in 
mass resistless whirling like a torrent down the mountain side. 
Here is the devastating flood that comes with an earthquake 
springing upward from unseen sources terrific in its might. 

1 In this wild scene Euripides glorifies and does a sort of poetical 
justice to country customs which still subsist and have often been fraught 
with the shedding of human blood. See Mr. Frazer s interesting chapter 
on " Killing the Tree Spirit" (pp. 240-253 of vol. i. in his Golden Bough] 
where he gives following Mannhardt and others an account of the 
Lower Bavarian custom of various mock executions at Whitsuntide. The 
Pfingstl thus executed is like Pentheus here a king of the wood, and 
his defeat and death at the hands of another proved that his strength 
was beginning to fail, and that it was time his divine life should be lodged 
in a less dilapidated tabernacle. " See also F. A. Voigt (article Dionysus" 
in Roscher s Mythological Lexicon, p. 1061). There was a legend 
(Pausanias, II. ii. 5 and 6) concerning two most sacred Bacchic images at 
Corinth, one of Ai/crios and the other of Bd/c%etos. They were made, not 
of the wood of the true Cross, but of the wood of the very fir tree upon 
which Pentheus was placed by Dionysus, as we read in this play. More 
over a command had come from Delphi to worship the tree as the very 
god himself TO dtvdpov foa T$> 0e< crtfieLV. From this Voigt rightly con 
cludes that the Maenads must have worshipped the tree before felling it. 
There was a still more primitive and Asiatic custom in the Thraco- Phrygian 
home of Dionysus. There they felled a fir tree once every year, and 
carried it in solemn procession to its home the god s temple. Thus in 
the Corinthian tale preserved by Pausanias we have record of the ancient 
transfer of worship and allegiance from the tree, which was the older incar 
nation of Dionysus Dendrites, to the graven image which eventually attached 
to itself all worship. Strabo, a wonderfully acute observer of the broadest 
aspects of Greek religion, groups together (X. p. 468) Dionysus, Apollo, 
Hecate (Proserpina?), the Muses, and Demeter, and ascribes to their 
worship TO bpyiavTLKbv TTO.V KO! TO ^aK^KOv /cat TO %opiAc6 , Kal TO irepi 
ras TeXeTas /j.v<rTLK6v. Then he adds what is of especial interest in con 
junction with Pentheus and the fir tree : devdpofopiai TC Kal \opeiai Kal 
reXeTctl Koival TUV deuv efoi TOITTWV. After this he seems to grow con 
fused and to take Apollo and the Muses out of this group, where of course, 
viewed under certain aspects, they are not at home, though by right of 
descent and through ties of early ritual they are indissolubly bound to it. 


The tall fir tree of Pentheus sways and yields, it crashes 
to the ground overborne by these flames and floods of 
Dionysus. Pentheus himself, when once he touches earth, 
is seized by the women. Flames they are no longer, 
and they are not floods, but of a sudden they become the 
many-handed earthquake which has shaken Thebes, and so 
they rend and hideously mangle Pentheus limbs. His 
head is plucked from his body, his feet are wrenched from 
his legs, his thighs are forced from their sockets, and his 
sides are flayed and lacerated foully. Tossed into the air, 
his limbs deface the leafage of the trees, and his head is 
spiked on a spear to be carried off in triumph by his mother 
Agave. The earth was his father s mother, and Agave his 
own mother with her three Maenad bands impersonates the 
mysterious and wrathful powers of nether earth. 

Here, perhaps, if the line is to be drawn at all, comes the 
division at which the Perdition of Pentheus ends, and the 
fifth part of the play begins. 

Filled with the spirit of fierce Dionysus, the wild hunts 
man, Agave cries aloud, still madly thinking that she bears 
in triumph a lion s head, "Bacchus led on in the chase 
wisely, for wise he is. He made the Maenads dart and 
hunt this quarry to its lair." With mystical significance the 
chorus of Bacchanals from Asia make answer, "Yea, for 
our king is a huntsman." Dionysus, plainly, is a jealous 
god, visiting the iniquities of Pentheus on his mother Agave, 
and his power is so strong that those whom it has once 
possessed cannot lightly find returning sense. So it is 
that Agave, glorying in the slaughter of a lion the unwitting 
murder by her devoted hands of her own and only son, grows 
impatient under her father Cadmus vain efforts to restore 
her mind, and harps upon grievances against her son. 


"How age turns men to crabbedness," she cries. "Would 
that, like his mother, my son were a lucky hunter; but heaven- 
fighting he is fit for, and good for nothing else." Then she 
turns again to Cadmus, saying, "Father! rebuke him roundly. 
Bring him here to me." Her mind is bent on having the 
head, her glorious hunting-prize, fastened trophy-fashion on 
the palace front. She waits for Pentheus to do it. 

Wondrously true, wondrously sad is the moment when 
Agave ceases to be the god, and comes back to herself at 

Cadmus has waited for a pause in his daughter s ravings, 
and when it comes he suddenly says, a propos of nothing, 
" Look up and scan the sky." l Surprise seems to still her 
frenzy, and she asks, "Why bid me look at the sky?" Dis 
regarding this question, he asks if the sky seems altered. 
Now Agave finds that she sees it more clearly. " Its light 
is brighter, things seem to stand more firmly in the world." 
"Art thou restored to sense?" finally asks Cadmus, and 
his daughter answers 

I know thy meaning not, and yet somehow 
Sense comes, and from my former mind I change. 

Skilfully Cadmus pursues his advantage, and awakens the 
slumbering memories of calmer days in Agave s mind. 
Finally she turns questioner, and presses him with inquiries 
about her own mad doings. With a shriek of despair she 
finally recognises the head of her own son in her own 
hands, and sees at last that she has murdered him in Bacchic 
frenzy, and cries, "We re Dionysus -slain, I see it now." 

1 Those who have experience in cases of mental aberration must 
admire the truth to fact in this representation of a recovery of sanity under 
wise guidance. 



Cadmus, speaking for the god, 1 makes answer, "Outrage 
breeds outrage, you denied his godhead." 2 

The winding-up of the Bacchanals in the last one hundred 
lines has little further bearing on the divinity of Dionysus 
and needs no comment here. It is sufficient to have had a 
glimpse in this sublime play 3 of the god as he was conceived 
by the Athenians, who worshipped him in the fulness of his 
Thracian and Old Attic godhead. From this ruder and 
earlier conception much that was not divine but cruel and 
barbarous had been separated, but enough of proto-Thracian 
harshness and pitilessness, as of the untamed powers of 
nature, still attaches to him even in the Bacchanals^ to make 
it once more plain that not he, but rather Apollo his brother, 
must always represent the most purely Hellenic ideal of a 
righteous and beneficent god. 

1 In this wonderful scene Cadmus represents the god he incarnates 
Dionysus the saviour from Dionysiac madness. It is significant that this 
most merciful aspect of Dionysus is the last one presented in the play. 
After this Dionysus appears as the deus ex machina, and formally justifies 
his dealings with Thebes and the house of Cadmus by appeal to Zeus. See 
the Appendix (II.) to the foregoing lecture for an account of this Dionysus 
Eleuthereus. Cf. also for a very complete presentation of the cheerful and 
beneficent aspects of the Bacchic godhead, the Orphic Hymn to Dionysus 
Lysios, No. 50, in Hermann s Collection (Leipzig, 1883). The invoca 
tion is : 

K\vdi, fj.aKap, Aibs vV, ewiX^vie Ed/t^e, di/JLrjTup, 

\v<rte daifj.ov. 

2 V. 1298. After the speech of Cadmus immediately following, at v. 
1325, Professor Tyrrell says a modern play would have ended. 

3 For the presence of the sublime in Euripides, denied by some, we have 
the authority of Goethe, who knew well and well appreciated the Bacchanals. 
See his translation of the great scene between Agave and Cadmus written 
in 1826 (vol. xxix. of Cotta s 1868 edition, pp. 34 and ff.) In his con 
versation with Eckermann of the i8th February 1831, he said: " Alle, 
die dem Euripides das Erhabene abgesprochen, waren arme Haringe, 
und einer solchen Erhebung nicht fahig ; oder sie waren unverschamte 
Charlatane, die durch Anmasslichkeit in den Augen einer schwachen Welt 
mehr aus sich machen wollten und wirklich machten als sie waren." 



IN Euboea, as in other Aegean Islands such as Naxos 
and Icaria, 1 the legends of Dionysus became entangled 
with a mass of tradition which belongs to the far Eastern 
world. With this is closely connected a record of pre 
historic changes in the tribe and family which survives 
in the curious story of the second and only real birth 
of the god from Zeus s thigh. This complex snarl 
of variegated tradition is perhaps most plainly recorded 
in the first of two fragments of a hymn to Dionysus. 2 
"Some there are who say twas on Draconus, 3 twas 
in Icarus, some say ; and some say in Naxos, son of 
Zeus who wert sewed in with needles, some say twas 
on the banks of Alpheius, the deep eddying river, that 
Semele went with thee and brought thee to birth for 
Zeus who rejoices in thunders ; others there are, my 
king, who relate that at Thebes thou earnest to birth, 
all of them speaking falsehoods. For verily the father 
of men and of gods brought thee to birth where men were 
far away, and in secret from white-armed Hera. A certain 
spot there is called Nysa, a lofty mountain covered with 

1 Not the Attic deme Icaria. 2 Homeric Hymns, xxxiv. 

3 A promontory on the Aegean island of Icaria, or Nicaria. 


blossoming forests, in the uttermost parts of Phoenicia it 
lies close to the streams of Aegyptus." l 

Two things are here attested, for only one of which 
his second birth we are prepared by the ordinarily 
accepted accounts of Dionysus. For the birth of Dionysus 
in the far East nothing in the Icarian legend, and little in 
the Theban legend, save the importance of Cadmus of 
Sidon, 2 and certain Thraco- Phrygian features of the tale, 
have prepared us. Moreover, the second birth of Dionysus 
as it stands in the purely Grecian legends is not only a 
most mysterious but a seemingly grotesque episode. The 
idea of taking this episode out of the more or less purely 
Greek story of the god, and of connecting it with his fabled 
birth in the far East, is certainly suggested by the Homeric 
fragment above quoted, but it had never occurred to me 
until I received some very valuable information in answer 
to a request which I addressed to my friend Mr. Clinton 
Dawkins. I had asked him to make inquiry about the 
habitat of the cinnamon tree, wishing, if possible, to deter 
mine by that means what sort of place Nysa, Dionysus 
birth-place, was thought to be, when it was identified by 
Herodotus with a place where the cinnamon grew. I 
wished to know whether cinnamon trees grew in dark low- 
lying meadow-lands or on rugged mountain sides. The 
information so kindly provided by my friend came from no 
less eminent and learned a source than Sir George Bird- 
wood, K.C.I.E. With his kind permission I reproduce it 
here, since it gave the right clue and has helped me towards 
a very fair solution of the difficulties concerned. 

"Herodotus (iii. in) says Some relate that it 
[/avi/a/Mo/Aov] comes from the country in which Dionysus 
was brought up ; and (iii. 97) The Aethiopians border 
ing upon Egypt . . . and who dwelt about the sacred city 
of Nysa, have festivals in honour of Dionysus ; and again 

1 This fragment was found in the same Moscow MS. where the Hymn 
to Demeter first came to light. It is also known through Diodorus. 

2 Herodotus, ii. 48 and 49. 


(ii. 146) he says But Dionysus was no sooner born than 
he was sewn up in the thigh of Zeus, and carried off to 
Nysa, above Egypt, in Aethiopia. Now there are several 
Nysas. Herodotus meant Nysa in Aethiopia, that is the 
Troglodytic country beyond the Soudan ; for the Soumali 
country is the cinnamon country. On the other hand the 
story of Dionysus, the Assyrian stranger/ is, inter alia, a 
myth of the development of Phoenician commerce, of which 
wine was everywhere throughout the Eastern Mediterranean 
(Levant) the staple ; and the Greek myths associating the 
wine god with Mount Meroe l in Aethiopia probably arose 
from the fact that in the original Phoenician myth he was 
not a child of the womb but of the thigh (/xr/po s). That 
is to say, these myths probably arose at the time when 
kinship among men had ceased to be traced through their 
mothers and had already begun to be traced through their 
fathers. Similarly the association of the wine god with 
Nysa above Egypt was presumably due to there having 
been a Nysa near Meroe, and to his Greek name being 
Atdwcros ; this Greek form of his name being probably a 
folk corruption of his Phoenician name, which would almost 
certainly end in nisi man. 

" Of course the cult of the vine and the manufacture of 
wine did not arise in Aethiopia but on the slopes of the 
Indo-Caucasus, and hence Mount Meroe [Meru] and the 
Indo-Caucasian Nysa have been identified as the seats of 
the education of the young Aiovwos." 

It is evident most abundantly from the Homeric Hymn 
and from Herodotus that the notion of Dionysus second 
birth was often connected with thigh mountain, Mount Meroe> 
and it is equally plain that this connection might involve 
rejecting more or less consciously according as the matter 
was more or less reasoned out the current reports of his 
birth at Thebes, or Naxos, or elsewhere in Greece, or Thrace, 

1 Cf. Eustathius (fol. p. 310, 1. 6) on Iliad ii. 637 : 8pos de TL 
M7?p6s K\r)dr), kiovvay ava.Keifj.evov, 80ev MT/por/xi^rjs /j./u.udei>Tai, 


or Phrygia. Perhaps the whole story identifying Nysa 
that elusive place, which never stays quite where you put it, 
but has a trick of moving far East if you seek it in Greece, 
and of lurking in Thrace if you seek it in Egypt or Arabia 
with Mount Meroe and the far East may have been called 
into being by the epithet of Dionysus ^porpa^r^, nursling 
of the thigh, which goes hand in hand with that other one 
ipa<f)ia>TT]<;, sewed in with needles. Perhaps some mute 
inglorious Euhemerus could settle the difficulty quite com 
fortably by saying that the epithet should be translated 
nursling of Mount Meroe, and then he could say that the 
other epithet was a mistake produced by a stupid tale 
regarding the thigh of Zeus. This is, however, a too con 
venient way of meeting the difficulty, nor is that adopted 
by Euripides in the Bacchanals in the least more satisfactory, 
although it was made with a certain Jesuitical sincerity, and 
in its day probably satisfied many religious minds in difficulty 
about the patent incongruity of the tale. For when Euri 
pides wrote the Bacchanals the best intellects of the time, 
and he was among them, still clung to a belief in the efficacy 
of a subtle analysis of words. 1 

Tiresias, a holy man, utters the apology, explanation, or 
if you chose to call it so the sophism 2 by which Euripides 

1 Cf. Mr. Tyrrell s admirable note (p. xxx. of the Introduction to his 
Bacchae] : "The reason of this etymologising " he speaks of that at v. 520 
of the play " is to be found, as Schwalbe well observes, in the deep con 
viction with which Greek antiquity was imbued, that between the word and 
the thing denoted by it there was some secret bond or hidden affinity." 

2 For an equally curious sophism which Sophocles puts into the mouth 
of Antigone, see his Antigone, 904-915. Both of these passages are 
alien to modern taste, and are prompted by the rhetorical training enjoyed 
by Sophocles and by Euripides. Goethe, Conversation with Eckermann of 
28th March 1827, says he would give a great deal if a " tiichtiger 
Philologe" would prove that the passage from the Antigone was spuri 
ous. The chief reason why this desire of his has never (pace Jacob) been 
gratified is found in Aristotle s citation of lines 911 and 912, and in 
Herodotus, who has put the same rhetorical commonplaces into an 
episode of Persian history (iii. 119). Since writing the above, I have read 
Professor Jebb s Appendix, where he rejects lines 904-920 as interpolated 
by lophon or as due to the actors. I am not, however, inclined to take 
this view. 


shames the blasphemies of Pentheus and other scoffers at 
the second birth of Dionysus. 1 

Him dost thou scorn, and mock to hear the tale, 

How in Zeus thigh he was sewn up. Give ear 

And learn of me that this is as it should be. 

When Zeus from flames and lightnings plucked him out, 

And bore Olympus-ward a god unborn, 

Then Hera sought to fling him down from Heaven, 

Zeus foiled her plot with counter-plots divine. 

1 Bacch. 286-297. Dindorf rejects these lines because of their " dictio 
inepta confusa omninoque non Euripidea," which amounts to saying, Euri 
pides did not write them because they are not by Euripides. This seems to be 
Wecklein s view. Professor Tyrrell makes out a better case : "It seems 
hardly too much to say that vv. 286-297 must be interpolated, because 
they explain away a story taken as literally true by the chorus, vv. 520- 
530, and also in the second strophe of their entrance song." Theirs, 
he maintains, was the orthodox version opposed by Euripides to the sceptical 
one given by Pentheus. It can hardly be maintained, therefore, that Euri 
pides would have assigned to Tiresias (who, as well as the chorus, is all 
along the exponent of the views of the believers) a theory explaining away 
the myth in which the chorus express their belief." Here Professor Tyrrell 
seems to me to apply essentially modern standards of faith and orthodoxy to 
the side of Greek religion which is most absolutely turned away from them. 
To me, and I suppose to many, such a divergence is far from inconceivable 
between Tiresias and the chorus, both of them equally authoritative, toth 
of them equally orthodox, if such an alien word may be used where it has no 
real application. It would be indeed marvellous if the god of transforma 
tions, illusions, and contradictions did not often inspire his votaries to 
contradict each other. No one phase of the elusive manifestations of 
Dionysus, and no one s account of any feature in his story, must be treated 
as final. It must, furthermore, be remembered that these offending verses 
can be taken as a very clever answering of the fool according to his folly, 
an attempt to mediate between the blasphemous scepticism of Pentheus 
and a story which he was incapable of accepting as the true believers did. 
Regarded in this light the sophism of Tiresias is a Jesuitical concession 
made for the salvation of Pentheus soul as a last and desperate move. 
Cadmus follows with the last appeal of all, which is characterised by the 
same spirit. He allows that Dionysus is a man. These concessions form 
part of the plan which shows in Pentheus the self-deluded and self-devoted 
victim of wanton wickedness. No one can ever convince every one that 
this passage is spurious," says Professor J ebb of Ant. 904-915. Change 
spurious to genuine, and the remark applies to Bacch. 286-297. Every one 
can, however, be convinced that both passages, if spurious, were the 
earliest of interpolations. Thus, in any case, Bacch. 286-297 retains its 
religious significance. 


A piece l torn off from earth s encircling ether 
He framed to be a pledge of peace 2 with Hera, 
With Dionysus semblance cheating her. 
But men report that for a time the god 
Grew in Zeus loin, 3 contriving all the tale, 
Exchanging terms because a changeling pledge 
To Goddess Hera was conveyed 4 by Zeus. 

The temper in which all these difficulties, so far as it may 
be said that they are still difficulties, in the legend of Dionysus 
are now met is a very different one from that in which Euri 
pides wrote the above. As for the Nysa placed in the far East, 
and Dionysus eastern birth, that goes to prove the probable 
infusion of a strong Phoenician, Egyptian, or Arabian strain 
into the habit of Dionysus as known among the Aegean 
islands in early days. Add to this the apparently Phoeni 
cian character and derivation of his name, and the whole 
setting of the beautiful Homeric Hymn wherein we read 
how sea-robbers tried to carry off the god, and how they 
were punished for it. Then the outlines for understanding 
Dionysus as "the Assyrian Stranger," and for interpreting 
certain touches in his story as " a myth of the develop 
ment of Phoenician commerce," are complete. 

The mystery of his second birth remains to be cleared 
up. In the fragment of a Homeric Hymn quoted at the 
outset it is noticeable that the writer rejects all maternity 
in the case of Dionysus, puts poor Semele entirely out of 
court, and maintains that Zeus only, and Zeus alone, 
brought the babe to birth. Backofen, 5 in his Mutterrecht, 
first had a glimpse of the fact that here was a Greek parallel 
to the more primitively grotesque assertion made by impli 
cation in the curious practice known as the couvade^ that a 
child s father is both parents in one, and that he is most 

2 Literally a hostage (ofj.rjpov), and this is part of the play upon 
and ^pos. 3 /u,77p6s. 4 w^pevtre. 

5 See F. A. Voigt on " Dionysus " in Roscher s AusfuhrUches Lexicon, 
p. 1046. 


particularly and especially its mother. Curiously enough 
not Dionysus only, who proves it in his own person, but also 
Apollo, here again his ally, maintains this strange doctrine. 
Aeschylus, with a deep insight into the mysterious background 
of his own faith, makes Apollo say, in the Eumenides, OVK 
ICTTI fJMJTrjp . . . To/<eu?, . . . TtKTet 8 o 6 pwcT KM . The great 
principle exemplified in the second birth of Dionysus is a 
triumphant justification for Orestes, the slayer of Clytem- 
nestra, and the same intense belief that the mother has no 
relation to her child, which is all its father s, leads certain 
savages to eat children born to their own wives of fathers 
who are slaves captured in war. 1 In fact, the story of 
Orestes represents a more primitive and unflinching asser 
tion of the nullity of the mother s motherhood and the 
reality of the father s than does that of the second birth of 
Dionysus. In this last common sense has asserted itself, 
and the child is partially matured in Semele s womb. 2 Then 
when she has been destroyed before the full period for 
Dionysus birth has come, the half-formed babe, ^/uTeAcorov, 
as Nonnus calls him, is transferred to the thigh of Zeus. 

And now, since, the testimony of cannibal customs has 
been referred to, it is high time to put the whole question at 
issue in the hands of the anthropologists, who are alone com 
petent. Fortunately Dr. Tylor has dealt with the matter in 
one of his most recent papers. 3 Indeed this very point, i.e. 
the place and the function, in the early stratification of 
family customs, to be assigned to the violent assertion that 
a child s father is his all, and his mother has no part in 
him, is taken by Dr. Tylor as his especial theme. Out of 
scattered materials strewn like glacial boulders upon the 

1 For the fact and a most instructive account of the couvade, see Dr. 
Tylor s Early History of Mankind, vol. i. pp. 287-297. 

2 A further proof of the reassertion of the mother s natural rights which 
plays its part in shaping this myth is found in the beautiful affection of 
Dionysus for his mother Semele. This lovely trait is omnipresent in his 
story. Mr. Pater has been particularly happy in his account of it. 

3 "On a Method of Investigating the Development of Institutions 
applied to Laws of Marriage and Descent. " Journal of the Anthropological 
Institute, February 1889. 


path of civilisation he builds up a wonderfully well-founded 
and solidly based structure of scientific demonstration. This 
is in fact the topic which he has chosen for a treatment so 
strict in method that he may well hope that its elucidation 
shall " overcome a certain not unkindly hesitancy on the 
part of men engaged in the precise operations of mathe 
matics, physics, chemistry, biology, to admit that the 
problems of anthropology are amenable to scientific treat 

A more precise description of the " quaint custom " 
called the couvade is now desirable, since it is here contended 
that the same explanation will account for that and for 
Apollo s vindication of Orestes as guiltless though he had 
slain his mother, together with the episode of Dionysus 
second and only real birth from the thigh of Zeus his 
father. In the couvade, to quote from Dr. Tylor, 1 "the 
father, on the birth of his child, makes a ceremonial pre 
tence of being the mother, being nursed and taken care of, 
and performing other rites such as fasting and abstaining 
from certain kinds of food or occupation, lest the new-born 
should suffer thereby. This custom is .known in the four 
quarters of the globe. How sincerely it is still accepted 
appears in a story of Mr. Im Thurm, who on a forest 
journey in British Guiana noticed that one of his Indians 
refused to help to haul the canoes, and on inquiry found 
that the man s objection was that a child must have been 
born to him at home about this time, and he must not 
exert himself so as to hurt the infant. In the Mediterranean 
district it is not only mentioned by ancient writers, but in 
Spain and France, in or near the Basque country, it went 
on into modern times ; Zamacola in 1 8 1 8 mentions, as 
but a little time ago, that the mother used to get up and 
the father take the child to bed. Knowing the tenacity of 
these customs, I should not be surprised if traces of couvade 
might be found in that district still." 

The place of this custom in the early history of man- 

1 P. 254 in the journal above quoted. 


kind hangs together with the more or less well-established 
fact that there were three stages of successive develop 
ment in family and tribe organisation. In the first 
and earliest of these, sometimes called the matriarchal 
stage, descent and inheritance had only to do with the 
mother. 1 Here then was the absolute contradiction of 
Apollo s dictum in the Eumenides of Aeschylus. Here the 
child is as solely and exclusively his mother s as he after 
wards was maintained to be solely his father s. Between 
these two strata there was an intermediate stage wherein 
both customs struggled for predominance. 2 Now the most 
startling confirmation of this order for the development of 
early customs is given by Dr. Tylor s discovery which he 
makes doubly impressive by a sort of geological diagram 
that the couvade is unknown in the lower or matriarchal 
stratum, begins after the middle of the transitional stratum, 
and spends itself early in the upper or patriarchal stratum. 
Thus the couvade was a visible symbol, a practice by the 
adoption of which the father s authority was finally and 
definitely asserted. As soon as this victory was won the 
custom by which it gained the day became a mere curiosity, 
a survival. 

The curious thing is that the Greek power to trans 
mute all things and to beautify whatever came into the 
Greek consciousness should have conquered even the 
stubborn material afforded by this graceless struggle for 
mastery within the primitive human family, and should 
have associated its dimmed and mysterious record with 
those masterpieces of the high poetic genius of man, the 
Oresteia of Aeschylus, and the Bacchanals of Euripides. 

1 See in the seventh annual report of the trustees of the Peabody Museum, 
Cambridge, Mass. (1884), Mr. Lucien Carr s able paper on "The Social 
and Political Position of Woman among the Huron-Iroquois Tribes." 
These tribes and many of those of the Pueblos in Arizona are still at the 
matriarchal stage. 

2 It is perhaps fanciful to suggest that the rival pretensions of Clytem- 
nestra and Agamemnon to dispose of Iphigenia are a record of this middle 


Indeed I cannot more suitably bring to an end these notes 
upon a survival in Greek tragedies themselves of primeval 
customs than by referring to a thoughtful though a brief 
account recently given 1 of the manner in which the Greeks 
performed their tragedies as a similar survival I mean their 
use of masks in acting. "No one of the early tragedians . . . 
did in fact invent masks, but . . . these existed as survivals 
of the paraphernalia of the Greek rites from remote and 
uncivilised times. . . . Indeed the use of masks is wide 
spread among uncivilised peoples ; it begins apparently with 
a dim notion of terrifying or deceiving demons, and soon 
becomes a formula of worship. It was from this state that 
the custom appears to have entered the Greek drama. . . . 
While the mask is common among nearly all savage races, 
we may find it surviving in the dramatic performances of 
the Chinese and Japanese." 2 Interesting though the 
Chinese and Japanese drama is, and not devoid of 
the genuine power that belongs to an art which has 
its definite traditions, the difference between its appoint 
ments not to speak of essentials and those of the 
Greek stage is very great, and on the score of beauty 
of course is all in favour of the Greeks. Starting 
apparently from the same or practically the same barbaric 
ritual which is the background of Chinese and Japanese 
theatrical performances, the Greeks were guided to beauty 
by an instinct which was all their own, and which has made 
them the sponsors of all that is best in dramatic literature. 
As Mr. Perry has admirably said, behind the perfected 
Greek drama "was a past that had triumphed successfully 
over the barbarism which left its rites, so to speak, as 
the raw .material to be worked by art and enthusiasm into a 
thousand charming forms. The savage survivals were, like 
the physical geography of the land, tamed, smoothed, 
cultivated, made inhabitable, not destroyed." 3 In the realm 

1 A History of Greek Literature, by T. S. Perry : New York, Henry 
Holt and Co., 1890. 

2 Ibid. pp. 229, 230. 3 Ibid. p. 224. 


of the drama, as in all other regions of literature and art 
which the Greeks knew, they and they alone possessed the 
art and the enthusiasm which could deal with stubborn 
and primitive materials the only ones at hand. Accord 
ingly each newly -discovered trace in Hellenic work of 
prehistoric man and his ugly ways is but a new occasion for 
marvelling at the transcendent genius of Hellas. 


IN the previous chapter it has been assumed, according 
to abundant testimony, 1 that Dionysus in some shape or 
other very early associated himself at Eleusis with the 

1 The presence, as an object of early Eleusinian worship, of a mystical 
da.ifj.wv is denied by none. But because there is no mention of Dionysus- 
lacchos in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, and because the Zagreus 
legend, which finally summed up the nature of the specifically Eleusinian 
Dionysus, emanated from Onomacritus and the new Orphic sect at Athens, 
some maintain that Dionysus was an utter stranger to the Eleusinian cult 
until the days of Pisistratus. This interpretation of the facts, which are 
unfortunately too few to speak very clearly for themselves, fails to cor 
relate with the mystical 5a.ifj.wv of early Eleusis, the Zagreus - Dionysus 
who, in the later Mysteries under the surname of lacchos, yearly visited 
Demeter and Persephone, and who was variously represented as a brother 
and a son of Persephone. The traditional connection between Thrace 
and the mythical Eumolpus, whose very name has a touch of the music 
of Apollo and Dionysus in it, and the theory among late Greeks that 
Eumolpus had to do with the worship of lacchos at Eleusis, lead towards 
the conclusion that, after all, the early mystical 8a.ifj.wv is a proto-Thracian 
Dionysus under some sort of Eleusinian disguise the old netherworld 
god of Thrace, brought by that early influence from the north, represented 
by the name Eumolpus to complete the group of divinities worshipped 
at Eleusis. The characteristically Eleusinian epithets of Pluto and 
Eubouleus suit well this primitive divinity when once he is far from 
Thrace and under the softening influences of Demeter. As for the absence 
of any mention of Dionysus-Iacchos in the Hymn, to Demeter, it must be 
remembered that neither is the great Eleusinian hero Triptolemus there 
mentioned, except among others represented as of equal importance with 
him in the establishment of the Eleusinian rites. In spite of this circum- 


two goddesses of the Mysteries. So far as chronology 
applies, it is evident that this first of his comings to 
Eleusis was thought of as having taken place not long after 
the day of Demeter s arrival at Eleusis and of Dionysus 
visit to Icarius. We may safely take it for granted, how 
ever, that his status in those early days was far inferior to 
that to which he subsequently attained through the reforms 
and innovations made first by Epimenides and Solon, 1 and 
then by Pisistratus and Onomacritus, whereby he was enabled 
to participate in Eleusinian observances from the vantage- 
ground of an independently organised Athenian ritual in his 
honour. After Epimenides had suitably organised the Lesser 
Mysteries at the Athenian Eleusinion, the god could in due 
time become the leader of the mystae in their yearly procession 
to Eleusis, and under the name of lacchos, which perhaps 
had not attached to him in his early days at Eleusis, when 
he was merely a TrdpeSpos an associate divinity, was there 
welcomed as the coequal of the two great goddesses. 

In a sense therefore the coming of Dionysus, as an 
independently recognised divinity, to take his share 
in the worship of those who thronged to the Greater 
Mysteries, was prepared by Epimenides and brought to 
pass by Pisistratus and Onomacritus ; and the first move 

stance testimony from other sources assigns a prominent place to Trip- 
tolemus in the local cult. Indeed we may consider the presence of a 
representative of Dionysus in the early legend a thing assured, since there 
was anciently more than one version of the story of the Hymn to Demeter 
(see Pausanias, I. xxxviii. 3, where Pamphos is followed as to the number 
and names of the daughters of Celeus), and since the Demophoon incident, 
the only point where Dionysus-Iacchos-Triptolemus could be concerned, 
plainly does not hang together with its surroundings. See note i, p. 194. 
1 I thus couple Solon with Epimenides, because Plutarch (as quoted 
note i, p. 123) says that the latter prepared the way for Solon s 
legislation, and also because one of Solon s laws distinctly applied to 
the concerns of the mysteries set in order by Epimenides. Andocid. de 
My sterns, 110-112. 


was brought about from Athens. But had not earlier 
influences already made some place for the new-comer at 
Eleusis, the great Eleusinian alliance of three coequal 
divinities would not so easily have come to pass. It is 
an undoubted fact that the popular legends and unauthor 
ised observances at Eleusis began to recognise the Thracian 
god at some earlier time while he still bore plain marks of 
being king of the underworld. This view is in agreement 
with the traditions of Eumolpus and the Eumolpidae, while 
any other makes it difficult to understand why Dionysus 
attached himself in just the way he did l to a group of gods 
where Hades played a part not unimportant, though to us 
obscure. The coming of Dionysus to Eleusis evidently 
enhanced the importance of Hades, and took away some 
thing 2 from Demeter s overpowering predominance. But 
by this limitation she apparently gained in effectiveness 
what she lost in exclusiveness. 

1 See F. A. Voigt (art. " Dionysus " in Roscher s Lexicon.}, where various 
epithets of Hades are shown to belong to Dionysus, particularly that of 
E#/3ovXevs. The name Eubouleus is especially connected with the Hades 
legend at Eleusis, both in the Athenian and the Argive tale. There was 
undoubtedly a more or less definite distinction drawn, in the Eleusinian 
and cognate worships, between two male divinities worshipped in con 
junction with Persephone, one of which may have been more especially 
identified with Dionysus than the other ; but it is more than likely that 
they represented the two types of Dionysus-Dendrites and Dionysus-Hades. 
The chief authority for this distinction is hardly earlier than the fourth 
century B.C. It is an inscription found on a tablet in a tomb near the 
ancient Sybaris. The deceased, one of the Kadapoi, i.e. initiate, writes: 
"Epxo/J-ai eK Kadapuv, Kadapa xQoviwv j3a<ri\eia EwX-^s, Ei^ouXetfs re ... 
See Pausanias, I. xiv. 1-4, and Miss Harrison (Mythology and Monuments 
of Athens, pp. 95-101). See also Chr. Scherer (art. " Hades " in Roscher, 
pp. 1783 and ff.), where the euphemistic epithets of the god are discussed, 
and the softening of the sterner aspects of Hades through contact with the 
cult of Persephone and Demeter is noted. 

2 She lost a touch of vindictiveness, which in the legend at Hermione 
led her to burn Colontas in his house (Pausanias, II. xxxv. 4), and a 
gloom which gave her the surname Erinys at Thelpusa (Pausanias, VIII. 
xxv. 4). 


Like the worship of Apollo at Delphi, that of Eleusinian 
Demeter did, however, owe its increasing importance to a 
hospitality, which welcomed new-coming divinities with no 
thought of curtailing their traditionary powers. Dionysus 
came to Eleusis and took his place there by the side of 
Hades, 1 so that Heraclitus in one of his dark words declares 
this identification to be a proof that life and death are one. 2 
The original Thracian conception of Dionysus, based as it 
was upon the belief that death was life, was in this manner 

Besides the bond of kingship in the netherworld, Hades 
and Dionysus were affiliated by their relation to the treasures 
concealed in the bowels of earth. Control over these came 
by right so ancient piety argued to the lord of the world 
below. Hence Hades and Pluto, 3 the god of riches, were 

1 See Voigt (art. " Dionysus" in Roscher s Lexicon, p. 1047) on Diony 
sus bringing of Semele from Hades to Olympus, which he compares to the 
Assumption of the Virgin Mary. Certainly Pindar s tone (in the third 
Pythian) about Semele justifies some such parallel. Enthusiastic wor 
shippers of Dionysus attributed to him power over the life to come, and wel 
comed his use of it to lead Semele into the assemblage of gods on Olympus. 

2 Heraclitus, quoted by Clement of Alexandria, Protreptica, p. 30 : 
wurds 5 Ai 5r?s KO.I &ibvv<ros br($ fiaivovrai Kail \rjvdfovcrii . (Cf. Ritter 
and Preller, Hist. Phil. I. 39 a, who say, after quoting, as of Heraclitus, 
the celebrated $dos Zrjvl cn<6Tos At Sfl, 0dos Aidy o-/c6ros Tiyvi </>otTg 
/cat /j.TaKi.v^Tat Kelva &df Kal rdSe Ket<re, Traffyv wprjv dLaTrptjff< Keivd 
re TO, ruvSe, raSe 5 ct5 rd Keivuv, " At STjy, quern eundem deum esse cum 
Libero Patre dicebat [scil. Heraclitus], significat vim humidam tenebricosam 
telluris, lupiter lucidam et ignitam coeli.") See also Scherer (as above) on 
a relief found at Locri. 

3 It might be hazarded as a conjecture that the coming of Dionysus to 
Eleusis brought with it for Hades the surname Pluto. Certainly the 
epithet HXovruv first appears for Hades in the Attic poets of the fifth 
century. Aeschylus, Prom. 806 ; Soph. Antig. 1200 ; Euripid. Alcestis, 
360, Here. Fur. 808 ; Aristoph. Plut. 727. See also at the beginning 
of the eighth book of Plato s Laws a passage where Pluto is named alone 
for all the Chthonian gods. Preller, commenting on this fact, attributes 
the epithet Pluto to the Eleusinian worship. Chr. Scherer (art. Hades " in 
Roscher, p. 1786) inclines to agree with Preller as to the epithet Plouto, 
but objects that the other euphemistic names must have come from tradi- 



one, and hence Dionysus, to the extent that he was originally 
a netherworld god, was in his own person called Father of 
Gold, and to him were dedicated the gold-bearing floods of 
Phrygian Pactolus. Demeter, Persephone, Aidoneus-Pluto, 
lacchos-Dionysus, and Rhea-Cybele these, the five divini 
ties of Eleusinian worship, become three before the eyes, 
as it were, of their worshippers. lacchos-Dionysus and 
Aidoneus-Pluto mysteriously melt into one, while Rhea- 
Cybele and Demeter are similarly fused. This would leave 
just three one Demeter-Rhea-Cybele gave the feminine 
element. The second, Hades-Iacchos-Dionysus, represents 
the male element, and finally the third is Persephone. It 
has been abundantly shown how Demeter and Persephone 
were regarded as one, being so filled with mutual love that 
all barriers between them melted away. A similar identifica 
tion of Dionysus and Persephone is shadowed forth by 
legends of their marriage. Hence what we may call the 
first of the Eleusinian mysteries, 1 since it deals with the 
hidden nature of all the gods at Eleusis, is not without a 
modern parallel. It presented itself to the pious mind in 
terms and with difficulties, most of which recur in one 
statement or another of the mystery of the Holy Trinity. 
Eight names, four of goddesses and four of gods, came 
finally to stand for two persons in whom was presented one 
great fact the course of nature. Demeter was Persephone ; 
both and each were Rhea, who was Cybele. Aidoneus 

tions preserved among the people. Suppose that Dionysus brought this 
golden contribution, and that the other mild epithet of Eubouleus came 
from Greek, and especially Eleusinian, tradition, then the softening influ 
ence which gathered these kindly qualities around forbidding Hades 
belongs still to Eleusis. 

1 I am intentionally using the word Mystery in the modern sense, 
because it is noticeable that a religious conception very nearly approaching 
it is characteristic of the Orphic writings, and was familiar to Euripides. 


was Pluto; while both and each were Dionysus, who was 
lacchos, and also, in some sense, Triptolemus. 

The two divine persons around whom these abundant 
names and attributes gathered at Eleusis were in the highest 
sense not two but one. They were one as concave and 
convex are one ; they represented the active and the pas 
sive aspects of the great and universal all. Nor is it fanci 
ful to add that they represented two typically Greek ways l 
of understanding the world and all that is therein ; the one 
way was that of Demeter and Xenophanes, the other way 
was that of Heraclitus and Dionysus. 

Dionysus all flash, all heat, all motion flowing and grow 
ing, living and dying, dancing and flying, 2 was a fit incarna 
tion of the philosophy of those whom Plato laughingly calls 
the " Streamers," men who with Heraclitus, the dark philo 
sopher, talked of the course of nature as being that of a 
swift and shifting stream or a fitfully burning conflagration. 

1 For a somewhat fuller account of these, see sections 3-7 of my Intro 
duction based upon Dr. Crons s to Plato s Apology : Ginn and Heath, 

2 See Pausanias, III. xix. 6, for Dionysus worshipped at Amyclae as 
^Xa, or winged, and cf. E. Thraemer (art. " D. in der Kunst," Roscher, 
p. 1152). Dr. Braun {Kunstvorstellungen des gefliigelten Dionysos, Munich, 
1839) first called especial attention to this. Speaking of the winged 
Dionysus at Amyclae, Pausanias makes a somewhat forcible-feeble remark, 
to the effect that the god of wine may well have wings, since under wine s 
influence men flutter, and are uplifted as by wings. There is a merry French 
song in praise of Dionysus, " Vive Denis notre bon pere ! " is the gist of it ; 
but the last verse gives to Dionysus Liber both wings and song, as follows : 

Ce Liber pere des repas 
Qu on adore au siecle ou nous sommes, 

En tre"passant ne mourut pas 
Ainsi qu on voit mourir les hommes ; 

Un assoupissement vineux 

Poussa son esprit lumineux 
Dans un doux repos de vingt heures, 

Apres quoi ce dieu s envola 
Dans les eternelles demeures 

Chantant ut r6 mi fa sol la." 


Certainly the poetic genius of man never conceived any 
personality better suited than that of Dionysus to represent 
the ever-moving stream, the ever-living and ever-dying fire 
of Heraclitus. Those minds whom this doctrine confused 
and alarmed could take the very different view of nature 
and divinity presented by Xenophanes ; and Demeter s 
personality gives most admirably the aspect of divinity 
which they would chiefly worship. Demeter is peace 
bought with the price of sorrow, love mingled with sad 
ness ; hers is a constant soul, unswerving and unselfish in 
her boundless love for sweet Persephone. Let Demeter 
then stand for the new aspect of divinity proclaimed and 
justified by Xenophanes. 

Tired of the tales that the charming Homer told, shocked 
and pained at the wickedness of gods who were human at 
heart and only superficially divine magnified men freed from 
death and age but not from sin Xenophanes declared that 
god was one, even so Demeter and Persephone were one ; he 
said that god was infinite, even so was the love and long 
ing of Demeter for Persephone. Indeed it has been often 
remarked that a new spirit came into Greek religion and life 
with the new worship of non-Homeric divinities at Eleusis ; 
and this new spirit was just what Xenophanes longed for. 

In the unknown, or at most half- known, spirit of the 
Eleusinian mysteries, one virtue reigned with living power, 
which some think has in our days vanished from all 
Christendom. This virtue is much lauded by the pious 
Plutarch ; it is the virtue of silence. Indeed all the rites 
of Eleusis would have been in vain if it were possible to 
describe minutely the Eleusinian ritual after the confident 
fashion of the author of The Divine Legation of Moses. 1 
1 Warburton, Bishop of Gloucester. 


Worshippers were bound by every fear, and lured by 
every hope, touching their fate after death 1 to reveal no 
word of what was said, and to withhold the least hint of 
what was done in the Eleusinian Holy of Holies. What is 

1 The scholiast on line 158 of the Frogs of Aristophanes says : "The 
opinion prevailed at Athens that whoever had been taught the Mysteries 
would, when he came to die, be deemed worthy of divine glory. Hence 
all were eager for initiation." This would sometimes take place when a 
man was near his death. See Aristoph. Peace, v. 374 f. , where Try- 
gaeus, sure of approaching death, tries to borrow three drachmas to buy a 
bit of a porker (for an offering to the gods below), and says, " You know 
I ve got to be initiated or ere I die." A curious ray of light is thrown upon 
the whole question of the mysteries, and the comfort which they gave by 
assuring to the initiated especial privileges in the life beyond, by four 
Orphic fragments found in Southern Italy (three at Sybaris and one at 
Petelia). The date of the tombs wherein they were found on thin plates 
of gold is the third century B.C. ; but Comparetti, in his account of them 
(Journal of Hellenic Studies, vol. iii. p. 112), says the Orphic fragments go 
back to the time of Euripides, and he refers to the well-known passage in 
Plato s Republic about the Orpheotelestae (ii. 364 B). In the preceding 
chapter I have spoken of the first Orphic doctrines promulgated by Ono- 
macritus at Athens ; Mr. Cecil Smith, "Orphic Myths on Attic Vases" 
(Journal of Hellenic Studies, vol. xi. p. 346), gives the following summary 
of doctrine (derived from the three inscriptions in question) from later Orphic 
poems, and from a vase-painting of great and almost unique interest that 
goes back to a date earlier than 480 B.C. : 

In the cosmogony of the Orphic teaching there are two great cosmic 
elements Zeus, the omnipotent all in all, and his daughter Kore, who 
combines in her personality the characteristic features of Persephone, 
Artemis, and Hekate ; from the union of Zeus in serpent form with Kore, 
Zagreus is born, and to him, essentially in his character of x^ojuos, the 
kingdom is given of this world. Zagreus is the allegory of the life and 
death and resurrection of Nature. In the generally accepted version, he 
is brought up as the Zeus-child, and from fear of Hera, is sent on earth to 
be warded by the Kouretes. Hera sends the Titans, who surprise Zagreus 
at play, tear him in pieces, and eat him all except the heart. Zeus destroys 
the Titans with his thunderbolts, and out of their ashes the human race is 
born. Since the Titans had swallowed Zagreus, a spark of the divine 
element forever permeates the human system. The heart is carried by 
Athene to Zeus, who either gives it to Semele in a potion or swallows it 
himself, and thus is born another Zagreus, the younger Dionysus, 6 v^os 
&i6vv<ros. " For the initiated death is a piece of good luck, and on one of 
the Sybaris tablets the departed soul exults, saying to the gods : /cat yap 
fyijjv vfj.Q>v ytvos 6\{3oi> etf^ojucu eli/cu. Having atoned for the sin of the 
Titans by mystic ceremonies, the initiated claim the heritage of Zagreus, 
which is life everlasting. He is in their members, and through his death 
their immortality has been won. 


sometimes, with a too ineffable self-complacency, called the 
" modern mind," might learn a lesson from the novices at 
Eleusis ; and it is perhaps good for us all to ponder over 
this ancient recognition of the unutterableness of the un 
utterable. This ground of holy reserve, not always respected 
to-day, was kept intact both in Greece and at Rome by the 

If silence is the chief lesson and culminating grace 1 
derived from Eleusis, it may be asked why there is more to 
say ? But even the secret of those Mysteries has been in a 
certain fashion laid open, and their noble spirit breathes from 
many masterpieces of the Greek genius. Such was the 
speaking power of Greek art, that the sculptors and the 
poets have almost revealed the secret in the beauty of their 
work. Certain statues of Eleusinian divinities bear the 
impress of the Mysteries, as do indeed the eyes of many a 
saint pictured by Christian art. Even in Botticelli s awkward 
and mysterious grace we read this same unnamed and un- 
nameable constraint and mystery. 

The first and most delicate manifestation of this shows 
in the peaceful and enigmatical beauties of Demeter and 
Persephone. Give to this constraining power something of 
manly force, and it constrains no longer to repose. The 
universe whirls onward then in Dionysus wake. The 
trees are drawn to follow Orpheus and his Thracian lyre. 
With Dionysus all nature floods forward and onward to a 

1 For fear of having been misled into a one-sided statement, I give the 
following graphic summary of the spirit in which the faithful were invited 
to the Mysteries, which I abbreviate from Mannhardt s Demeter essay : 
"Come, whosoever is clean of all pollution, and whose soul hath not 
consciousness of sin. Come, whosoever hath lived a life of righteousness 
and justice. Come, all ye who are pure of hand and of heart, and whose 
speech can be understood." Almost every Athenian sought out the 
celebration, and from time to time communed with the gods of Eleusis for 
the ease of his soul. 


goal, which is neither named nor known, and yet is the first 
cause of an irresistible impulse. The intensity of calm 
which is sometimes to be seen in Demeter s grief, and 
sometimes even gives to her joy a sober hue, allies itself 
with one aspect of the annually recurring tragedy of life 
decaying, and of growth on earth. Forsaken in her grief 
she is the spirit of loneliness, the genius of home-sickness ; 
and even in her appeasement she still seems alone. Per 
sephone, her joy, is with her truly, but she brings to her 
mother that nameless tremor, half of peace and half of 
unutterable oppression, which comes to a lingerer musing 
in the fields of spring. 

The more boisterous joy of Dionysus is this tremor 
raised to a higher power, and contains its oppression and 
its gladness both intensified. The promise written, half in 
sadness, first upon the hesitating face of spring comes to 
its uttermost fulfilment in an ecstasy of joy which is near 
to downright madness and fraught with death. The 
crescendo of growth and vigour drives away and utterly 
dispels the outward show of mystery, because the mystery 
itself lies hidden. It is the god himself who enters in 
and fills his worshippers and all the world with his con 
straining power. He is in all things, and he leads all 
things on the way of his choice. From flash to flash, from 
flame to flame, the scale of bright and fluid being is run 
through with the whirl, as it were, of a devouring fire that 
darts across fields of yellow grain. Demeter is no longer 
there, nor yet are we who have been swept along by Diony 
sus in his fluid train. Yet this is not the last word of the 
mysterious power that shapes the varying course of nature. 
The learned and truly pious Strabo somewhere says that it 
was but right for the Eleusinian worshippers to guard most 


jealously a mystical secret. How otherwise could their 
ritual have shown forth the nature of the gods at Eleusis ? 
Their secret always eluding inquiry was like their godhead 
for ever eluding the grasp of our senses, 1 for ever streaming 
on beyond reach of our straining eyes. The Streaming 
philosopher, Heraclitus, declared solemnly that you could 
not twice step into the same river, and Strabo would have 
us apply this to divinity, and mark how the same Dionysus 
is never met with twice. This may be called, and was 
sometimes meant as, a Pantheistic doctrine ; but sometimes 
it was of higher import, and Dionysus was thought of as a 
spirit moving in all things, whose worshippers must not 
attach themselves to any one manifestation of him, but 
must worship him in spirit and in truth. 

And yet this fast and furious race from shape to shape 
was thought of only as a final paroxysm, like the fortissimo 
that comes near the end of a musical composition. Then 
nature reaches fulness, fruits are shining where lately were 
the buds of spring, while the dancing Maenads whirl across 
the face of the earth, moving in Bacchic revelry their 
gleaming feet, tossing their necks into the dewy air. This 
is the Maenads hour of triumphant freedom. Now let 
them sing while they may the victorious refrain in Euri- 
pidean numbers. "What is the wisdom, what among 
mortals the boon of heaven that is fairer than waving the 
hand victorious over a fallen foe ? What is glorious, that 
is always dear." 2 

Dearly bought indeed is this Bacchanalian victory, for 
there is a mystery revealed in sadness when the ecstasy 

1 Strabo, X. iii. 9 (467) : 77 re Kpfyis 77 IJLVGTLKT] T&V lep&v 
rb Oetov, /uu[ji.ov/ji{i r} rty (f>v<ni> avrov (petiyovcrav TJ/J.UV 
- Euripides, Bacchanals, 877-881, and 897-901. 


of joy is past. A frenzied impulse overtakes the revelling 
Maenads, and lo ! their nearest and their dearest lies 
before them hideously slain. In overpowering their 
foeman they have unspeakably harmed their own. The 
huntsman from whom they thought to escape was none 
other than their own Dionysus, the pitiless huntsman 
Zagreus. They thought to be swift and go from him 
free when he had really entered in and possessed them 
utterly. Winter is at hand, there are no buds, no blossoms, 
no fruits, and no joys. The sad awakening comes Diony 
sus is dead. Is he not buried within the temple of Apollo 
at Delphi ? And now the worshipper is left alone ! And 
yet not quite alone, for he has for his comrade in grief 
Demeter, the all-welcoming Demeter, in her lonely trial 
longing and grieving, seeking and finding not Demeter 
whose only comfort is in doing deeds of sweet and unpre 
meditated love. 1 

Let us now, while we still are under the spell of De- 
meter s sorrowing godhead, 2 enter into the holy place at 
Eleusis and consider reverently its broken stones and buried 
walls. Here is a place consecrated by eight hundred years 
of pious usage and spoiled by centuries of neglect. At last 

1 The way in which allegiance to the spirit of the Mysteries begins 
with Persephone and Demeter, transfers itself for a climax to lacchos, and 
then dies down to a calmer loyalty again, chiefly to Demeter and the high 
standard of right living associated with her, is best seen in the passage of 
the Frogs of Aristophanes summarised at the end of this chapter. See 
w. 372-459. 

2 This phase of Demeter is characteristic when her divinity stands in 
contrast to that of Dionysus. Dionysus also when taken alone has his 
sad and subdued aspects. For both these divinities alone were con 
ceived of as covering the whole ground more completely but not less 
really occupied when they each supplemented the other, and both made 
room for Persephone. Demeter as the productive Earth (Eur. Bacch. 274- 
276) was conceived of as going through in her own person all the stages 
and phases of vegetation, and of the husbandry by which earth was culti 
vated. See Lenormant, art. " Cres" in Daremberg and Saglio. 


a time for the re-awakening of glorious pagan memories has 
come at Eleusis, since the present condition of its site is the 
result of much careful excavation. 

From Athens to Eleusis is not far, though it is more than 
a Sabbath day s journey. In more accurate measurement 
the distance to Eleusis is slightly over twelve miles. The 
first excavations at Eleusis were made early in this century 
by the London Dilettanti Society. 1 From these labours 
came a good account of the site and of the two ceremonial 
gates or Propylaea both of the latter belonging to the days 
of Roman supremacy at Eleusis. Of these first excavations 
an account is given in the Unedited Antiquities of Attica^ 
published in 1817. The Dilettanti Society could not cause 
the modern village of Levsina to be removed from the site 
most important for excavation, and therefore obtained little 
or no knowledge of the Hall of Initiation. This forced 
omission, and nearly all others, have been made up for by 
Greek excavations which were ended only in 1887. At the 
request of the Greek Archaeological Society, Dr. Dorpfeld 
made out in 1887 the full ground-plan of all buildings whose 
foundations were left on the site when the village houses 
had been removed. The plan published in 1888 will never 
receive any important modifications, though details may still 
be forthcoming ; and I desire to give my warmest thanks to 
my friend Dr. Dorpfeld for allowing me to publish it here. 
The enthusiasm and ability of Dr. Philios, the commissioner 

1 This chapter is so especially concerned with Eleusis rather than with the 
approach to it from Athens that Franpois Lenormant s admirable work in 
excavation and publication has no great prominence in my presentation of 
Eleusinian religious antiquities. His work, however, and his account of 
the Sacred Way, demand the fullest recognition, and his Grande Grtce 
also contains much invaluable information about Dionysus in Greater 
Greece. From his articles in Daremberg and Saglio s Dictionary I have 
constantly derived enlightenment. 


for years in charge of the Eleusinian excavations, have abund 
antly justified the confidence reposed in him by the Greek 
Archaeological Society, and earn the gratitude of all students, 
who may now see in Dr. Dorpfeld s plan a record of the 
results due to Dr. Philios learning, energy, and ability. 

Eleusis lies upon and around a group of rocks which 
separate the south-eastward breadths of the Thriasian plain 
from the smaller Rarian plain, which is north-west of it. 
Towards the south and east spreads the beautiful Bay of 
Eleusis, and beyond rise the purple heights of Acamas l on 
Salamis Salamis looming up as if to shut out all view of the 
Gulf of Aegina and distant Cyllene. The best description 
of Eleusis is perhaps that given in the Unedited Antiquities 
of Attica, as follows : 

" The south-eastern extremity of a low rocky hill about 
300 yards from the sea was chosen by the Eleusinians for 
their citadel their acropolis. The declivity of this hill 
facing the south-east being formed into an artificial terrace, 
and the rock having been cut away from the front to the 
rear, a level area was obtained for the sacred enclosure of 
the mystic temple. This magnificent structure, built by 
Pericles, stood a bold and prominent feature in a picture 
whose background was formed by the walls and towers of 
the impending acropolis. In front the villas and gardens 
of the Eleusinians complete the picture, spreading them 
selves around the foot of the rock and along the borders of 
the Bay of Salamis called also the Bay of Eleusis, since 
Eleusis is on its northern shore while the sea-girt heights 
of Salamis lock it in towards the south. As accessories in 

1 For the authority upon which I use this name for the Salaminian 
mountains, see Appendix VIII. end, on "The river Bocarus and John 
Meursius," after chap. vii. below. 


the composition of this grand design, the lofty gates or 
Propylaea, with the temple of Artemis Propylaea, were 
worthy of admiration." 

Such is the picture of ancient Eleusis skilfully drawn 
in 1814. In it we see, vaguely indeed but really, some 
thing of the later magnificence at Eleusis. This was the 
Eleusis of Roman days, for the great Propylaea not to 
speak of the upper gateway or Lesser Propylaea of Appius 
Claudius Pulcher 1 were built in Roman days and not 
visible to the eyes of Ictinus. This was the Eleusis which 
came to destruction in the year of our Lord 396 at the 
hands of monks who followed in the wake of Alaric 
and his Ostrogoths. Eunapius calls these worse than 
Ostrogoths "the black -robed crew," and their icono- 
clasm, no doubt, merited his most "vinegar epithets"; but 
still even these zealots did less harm probably than the 
poverty and sloth caused by the intolerable and continuous 
oppression weighing heavily upon generations who after 
wards lived near and on the site. Various churches and a 
whole village got themselves built within the boundaries 
of the holy precinct by a process utterly destructive of all 
manner of architectural remains, and particularly of the 
precious statues left in fragments, but still no doubt left by 
those Ostrogothic monks who would hardly have been able 
to demolish everything of the kind. Heads, arms, and 

1 Cicero to Atticus (vi. i), " Unum etiam velim cogites. Audio Appium 
TTpoTrtiXaiov Eleusine facere. Num inepti fuerimus, si nos quoque Academiae 
fecerimus? Puto, inquies. Ergo id ipsum scribes ad me. Equidem valde 
ipsas Athenas amo. Volo esse aliquod monumentum. Odi falsas in- 
scriptiones statuarum alienarum. Sed ut tibi placebit." Very interesting 
remains of this ceremonial gate of Appius still lie upon its site. A certain 
originality is shown in its composite capitals and in the decorative use of 
wheaten ears and the vaguely known instruments of the mysteries upon 
its entablatures. For photographs of these remains see Appendix XL i. 
43- 44- 


beautiful draperies fashioned delicately in marble seemed to 
the clumsy and half-barbarised Albanian builders of Levsina 
to exist for nothing else than the fire whose burning gave 
them lime for building their unsightly huts. After these 
devastations no hope could be entertained that any full 
knowledge of the temples and statues of the gods at Eleusis 
should ever be rescued from its ruins. We are forced in 
fact to make many a conjecture before the results of the 
most patient and painstaking excavations will yield any clear 
notion of that unique structure the Eleusinian Telesterion 
or Hall of Initiation. This was called in the description 
quoted above the Mystic Temple, but is more accurately 
designated by Aristophanes as the " Home that welcomed 
the Mystae," Strabo s phrase for it being o ILVGTIKQS cry/cos, 
the holy enclosure of the Mystae?- It was in fact not as other 
Greek temples were, for, as Strabo directly implies, it was 
not the dwelling-place of any god, and contained there 
fore no holy image. It is unique because on no other 
Greek site has there been found a meeting-house built, 
as this one was, for the celebration of a definite ritual. 
The Thracian worship of one of the Eleusinian gods, 
Dionysus, seems to have required meeting places or houses 
of some kind, but there is only the vaguest record of them. 
The truth therefore is that the Eleusinian Hall of Initiation 
is the only known church of antiquity, if by church we 
mean not so much the house of the deity as the meeting 
house for worshippers, a place where they may congregate 
for worship. 

This Hall of Initiation, if we would know it as it stood 

1 He plainly distinguishes it from the temple of Demeter. See IX. i. 
12 (395) Elr EXewris 7r6\u, h r? rb TTJS ATj/rrjrpos iepbv TT)S JSXevffivtas Kal 
6 /iucm/cos o"r)K6s, 6v KareffKevaafv IKTWOS (t^Xov dearpov 


in the days of Athenian greatness and power, must be shorn 
of the Roman fagade and the porch of Philo. These must 
disappear with the walls that go with the lower or most 
northern Propylaea, a ceremonial gate built in the 
Emperor Hadrian s day. 1 

Suppose, then, Hadrian s grand gate of entrance is 
removed ; take away also the outer wall (indicated by salmon 
colour on the large map) that this gate pierced. Then you 
have thrown open a considerable space between a sacred 
building the temple of Artemis Propylaea (Artemis at the 
gate) and an older gateway piercing an older outside wall. 
This is the gateway, already talked of above, built by Appius 
Claudius Pulcher. The report of it moved Cicero to 
propose that he and his rich friend Atticus 2 should build 
something of the kind for the Academy. Supposing our 
selves in Eleusis before Appius Claudius and his workmen, 
then in place of his gate we should have found something 
of wholly Greek antiquity something to show forth the 
earlier history of the shrine and sanctuary. Here anciently 
was a strong gate which, with the wall that it pierced, 
could be defended against all enemies of the gods and of 
Eleusis. 3 Having passed through this gate and hastened to 
the Hall of the Initiated, we might, supposing our visit fell 

1 It was the irony of fate which afforded money and to spare in 
Hadrian s time for completing at Eleusis an imitation of the masterpiece ol 
Mnesicles, itself left unfinished for the lack of moneys in the coffers of 
imperial Athens. 

2 The passage at the end of the first letter in the sixth book of their 
correspondence is given above, p. 188, note i. Atticus apparently did not 
encourage Cicero, perhaps because he reflected that Cicero would have 
contributed more beautiful discourse than hard cash to any joint under 
taking of the kind. 

3 That there was fortification in the early days cannot be doubted, in 
view of recorded attacks. Certain remains of old-time masonry, together 
with the fixed position of the Sacred Way, make it practically sure that 
here was a fortified gate. 


after 310 B.C., find an important feature which was not known 
to the worshippers in the days of the Peloponnesian war I 
mean the porch of Philo, built at the expense of Demetrius 
the Phalerean in 310 B.C. Ictinus must have planned either 
this porch or something like it, but it certainly was not built 
in his day. And finally, if we returned to the site four 
centuries or so later, we should discover an enlargement 
and remodelling of the Hall as built by Ictinus. The site 
as it existed before 310 B.C. was enclosed by a defensible 
wall, and approached by a fortified gate on the site of the 
ornate and unfortified Propylaea of Appius. The Telesterion 
or meeting-house consisted of two narrow rooms, had no 
front porch, and was not quite so large as Roman recon 
struction subsequently made it. 

It is very easy to forget the little or nothing known about 
certain small temples and treasure-houses of uncertain date. 
These grouped themselves about the great meeting-house 
of the Mystae, and like it had the living rock of the Eleusinian 
Acropolis as their background. This rock towards the north 
exhibits two remarkable cave-like arches in the living stone. 
Such was the site before 310 B.C. six hundred years, that 
is to say, before the sanctuary was ravaged and destroyed. 1 

1 Cf. Strabo, quoted above, p. 189, note i, and Vitruvius, Praef. vii. 16, 
17, Schneider. Plutarch (Pericles, xiii.) gives a rather detailed account of 
the various architects and builders who apparently carried out the plans of 
Ictinus, though the words of Plutarch alone might lead one to think he did 
not connect Ictinus with the work, but rather considered its building to have 
been, like the Parthenon, under the general supervision of Phidias. He 
says that Coroebus began to build it, proceeding so far as to set the 
columns up on the foundations, and adding the architrave. Coroebus 
died, and Metagenes of the deme Xypeta continued the work, adding the 
5idfw/xa (is this to be translated frieze, or has it the meaning of prae- 
cinctio, a narrow upper gallery, for access to upper seats, which at Eleusis 
would mean a ledge hewn out of the rock, to allow access to the upper story ?) 
and the columns of the upper story. Xenocles of Cholargia finished the 
faalov, whatever that may here be supposed to mean. 


Now let us approach the remains as they are. Neglect 
the Roman- remains of triumphal arches on your left ; look 
for a moment at the site of the temple of Artemis at the 
gate ; consider the intense misunderstanding of the Doric 
capital that led Hadrian s builders to give such a stiff 
and lifeless curve as that shown in huge examples that 
cumber the ground on the site of Hadrian s gate of Cere 
mony. There is, if only it were worth the looking at, a 
monstrous lump of white marble here. It was a huge 
medallion tastelessly injected into the gable or pediment of 
the Propylaea aforesaid. 1 Some think a mysterious person 
figured here a priest, say; but others more prosaically 
claim that Hadrian himself somewhat awkwardly presided 
over this rule-of-thumb Doric architecture for which he 
is responsible. But let us get inside this gate and forget 
everything about it save only that it faced north-east. 
Following now the Sacred Way which trends to the left and 
ascends, we may now pass the remains of the smaller gate 
of Appius, which faces due north. To those who think 
they can solve the riddles ot all religions by accumulating 
facts about the orientation of temples it will be of import 
ance to note that the four corners of the great meeting-house 
at Eleusis point respectively north, south, east, and west. 
Before reaching this northern gate of Appius we are not 
yet on the ground of old deemed holy ; but this gate once 
passed, we are where the yearly procession from Athens first 
felt that its goal was reached. A long journey it was for 
those burdened with offerings this twelve miles, the last 
nine of which were without shade, if one may rashly suppose 
the distribution of trees always to have been what it is to-day. 

i See for the photograph of it published by the Hellenic Society, 
Appendix XI. i. 43. 


Here we are at last within the sanctuary rdlv Oeaiv, of 
the goddesses twain. Before looking about us within, let 
it be stated, for the benefit of geometers, that this sacred 
ground enclosed by walls and rock is in shape an irregular 
pentagon. Of the five enclosing sides, the longest is the 
line of overhanging rock the Acropolis. At the northern 
end of this rock wall, which runs from west to north, are 
the two caves. Just north of the northernmost of the two 
caves this longest side meets the shortest side a wall run 
ning north-eastward from the Acropolis rock to the gate 
way just entered. Of the three remaining sides one is a wall 
parallel to the Acropolis rock, and the other two, also walls, 
connect this parallel side respectively with the gate of Appius 
and the western end of the Acropolis side. Such are the 
boundaries, through the ruins of which we suppose ourselves 
to have walked. 

And now we may well begin with a curious examination 
of the ground we tread, over which so many pious feet have 
passed. Beyond the lesser or Appian gateway traces appear 
of the Holy or Processional Way, but under the disappointing 
guise of a Roman pavement slabs of stone made fast with 
mortar upon the native rock. In Grecian days the bare rock 
was probably not improved upon either here or in the much 
and piously travelled roadway leading up to the Athenian 
Parthenon through the Mnesiclean Propylaea. Various 
traceable pedestals indicate that many monuments lined 
this processional road, which so far resembled many others. 
Between the gate of Appius and the overhanging Acropolis 
rock is the small precinct of Pluto, which is approached by 
a step or two and an entrance-gate. This small corner, 
belonging to Demeter s self-constituted son-in-law, is remark 
able rather for the striking configuration of the natural rock 



that shuts it in on the west than for the slight traces of a 
very small temple which it contains. The finding here first 
of a bust representing Eubouleus, 1 the Eleusinian Hades, 
and then of a bas-relief representing Demeter, Perse 
phone, and Hades, establishes the proprietary right of 
Aidoneus-Pluto to this spot, included though it be within 
the sanctuary walls of the dread twain goddesses. 

Within this small precinct facing north, and just south of 
the intersection of the longest (or Acropolis) side with the 
shortest side of the sacred pentagon, is a hole in the rock, 
raised higher than man s stature above the general level. 
In the rock below, and north of this aperture, are steps 2 
roughly hewn leading to a height, and a foothold from 
which it is easy for any one to climb through the hole and 
enter the arched cave-like space beyond. This cave, as it 
may be called, together with a larger one much resembling 
it just south of it, would have seemed, and apparently did 
seem, in myth-growing days, the very spot where Aidoneus 
on his chariot might have swept with Persephone into his 
nether abode. The rock overhanging the Cnidian 3 precinct 

1 See note 3 above, p. 177 ; note i, p. 174 ; and Chr. Scherer, article 
"Hades" in Roscher s Ausfuhrliches Lexicon. I hear of an article (not 
procurable before going to press) in the Mittheilungen, wherein Dr. Kern 
successfully maintains that this beautiful head represents not Eubouleus but 
Triptolemus. This would tend to confirm my contention (see chapter ii. 
above) that Demophoon is an interloper in the story of Demeter, and that 
Triptolemus was the real nursling. Furthermore, it would tend to connect 
Triptolemus with this precinct of Pluto, and to affiliate his worship with 
that of Hades and lacchos. Cf. Daremberg et Saglio, p. 634, col. z. 

2 Dr. Dorpfeld kindly calls my attention to the possibility that these 
very roughly cut steps may have belonged to the arrangements for a 
modern house. 

3 What Attic tradition records as the coming of Demeter to Eleusis 
gains in significance if we find reason to suppose this new departure of 
nature-worship in Attica to have been prompted from the north, if Demeter 
came from Thessaly as did Aesculapius and as Dionysus came from Thrace. 
A very definite tradition asserts that the Cnidian sanctuary of the two god 
desses was founded from Thessaly, as were the Coan and the Epidaurian rites 


of Demeter and Persephone was found by Sir Charles 
Newton to have similar peculiarities to these of the Eleu- 
sinian Acropolis. 

But, to return to the precinct of Hades-Pluto, nearly in 
front of the two caves are unmistakable traces of a very 
small "cella" or temple of Pluto. The foundations show 
it to have been ten feet broad by sixteen feet long. The 
head of Eubouleus-Triptolemus, 1 found near it, very closely 
resembles one which was long called Virgil, and which is to 
be found in the Capitoline Museum. It is none the less 
beautiful because Professor Benndorf is almost alone in 
attributing it to the Phidian age. 

Emerging from the Plutonian precinct, and passing 
a few steps southward on the Processional Way, turn 
again westward, and there find the more or less uncertain 
foundation-stones to which probably corresponded two 
buildings. These are identified respectively, but only the 
farther one confidently, with the two treasure-houses men 
tioned in Eleusinian inscriptions. One may have been the 
treasure-house of Demeter ; and if this be so, the other, in 
case it was anything, was that of Persephone. The import 
ance of the treasuries which these foundations may represent 
is abundantly shown in the accounts of the temple- 
funds so plentifully forthcoming of late years, and so well 

in honour of Aesculapius. See above, ch. ii. and below, ch. vi. The com 
ing of Demeter from Pyrasus and the Dotian plain of Thessaly is by no 
means inconsistent with an aboriginal Eleusinian nature -worship and 
nature-goddess. So too the Thracian Dionysus coming to Icaria absorbed, 
and was absorbed by, an indigenous worship of a kindred nature to him 
self. The known facts plainly require such an explanation. See above, 
ch. iii. 

1 For a very good reproduction of it, see Miss Harrison and Mrs. 
Verrall s Mythology and Monuments, p. 105. Brunn has it in his 
Monuments of Ancient Art, It gains much in interest and importance if 
Dr. Kern can show that it represents Triptolemus. 


edited. The reason why such scanty foundation remains 
were here found is that the solid rock lies close to the 
surface, and, accordingly, all traces of such buildings as 
existed were most readily obliterated. 1 Therefore very 
little concerning these would-be treasure-houses can be 

Whether each of the two goddesses had an especial 
temple for her own abiding can also never be ascertained 
with certainty from anything that has been discovered on 
the spot, and accordingly what may possibly be traces of 
two small temples are only doubtfully to be described as 
such. The facts, such as they are, may be stated as follows : 
traces of a smaller temple, which might be attributed to 
Persephone, are near the northern angle of the Hall of 
Initiation to the east. The plainer traces of a temple, 
larger, though still small, are visible at the northern end of 
the raised terrace which runs between the Hall of Initiation 
proper and the overhanging north-westward rock. Here 
may conceivably have stood Demeter s temple on a higher 
level, to the north of the same north angle. 2 

And now I have mentioned the chief among the lesser 
buildings, about none of which, excepting perhaps the first, 
there can be reasonable certainty, (i) The small precinct 
and small temple or " cella " of Plutus ; (2) and (3) the 
supposed treasuries, one for each goddess ; (4) the very 
problematical temple or cella of Persephone ; (5) the 
equally doubtful temple or cella of Demeter. Besides 

1 The poor Albanians, in giving themselves and their animals various 
rudimentary comforts, have played fast and loose with the rock here. 

2 Strabo s words (see note i, p. 189) make it certain that a temple of 
Demeter formed one of the conspicuous features of the sanctuary ; and 
the comparative insignificance in size and prominence of the remains on 
this site leave the whole matter in doubt. 


this there was in some place, not determined, within the 
precinct a Neocorion, i.e. quarters for the neocoroi those 
in executive charge of the buildings and minor concerns of 
the sanctuary. 1 

As for the great Initiation Hall, the most interesting by 
far of all the features on this site, let us admit to start with 
that its study is a matter of great perplexity, in spite of an 
absolute certainty with regard to the most important leading 

Your first feelings, as you wander up and down across 
this Eleusinian wilderness of stones, are confusion and help 
lessness. Before you lies what seems to be an incongruous 
crowd of foundations for the bases of columns, no two of 
which seem to be part of one scheme. A closer examina 
tion shows in effect that there are many kinds of foundations, 
bases, and traces of columns belonging by their manner of 
construction to many epochs of building. These puzzling 
and overlapping traces are multiplied especially at the 
eastern angle of the Hall. That quarter of the ground 
occupied by the whole Hall which lies nearest this eastern 
angle contains fifty-six bases or traces of columns, while 
upon all the remainder only thirty-seven can be found. 

This curious fact leads to a closer examination of the 
column -foundations where they are most numerous, and 
here a wishing-cap is necessary. Put on this cap, while 
looking at these shapeless-seeming ruins, and wish for all 
the knowledge of the various masonry of various epochs 
possessed by Dr. Dorpfeld, director of the German Institute 
at Athens, or by Dr. Philios, 2 the indefatigable excavator at 

1 See Appendix I. above, for some account of the later history of this 
word i/eco/cdpos. 

2 See his pamphlet (Athens, 1889, Ch. Wilberg) Fouillcs d & leu sis, 


Eleusis. Then you would note how the various traces 
gradually group themselves as follows: (i) twenty -five 
small square foundations, coloured red on the plan, about 
10 feet apart, these being wholly confined to this eastern 
quarter of the site; (2) twenty places for round columns 
15 feet apart, requiring (in the northern corner) one 
more, of which no trace can be found, to make up the 
symmetrical tale, twenty-one ; (3) six large square founda 
tions requiring the addition of two more than the remains 
found to complete the necessary eight. Besides these 
three fashions, there is a fourth fashion of column founda 
tion. These are distributed very curiously over the whole 
space, forty-two bases in a square of a hundred feet more 
or less. 

To the smaller hall, destroyed by the Persians, belong 
the first mentioned square-column foundations, discoverable 
exclusively within the eastern quarter of the site, and 
coloured red on the plan. This smaller hall may be called 
the Hall of Pisistratus, though what is certainly known 
about it is that it was destroyed by the Persians after Xerxes 
defeat at Salamis. 1 Traces of their destructive fire have 
come to light, giving the confirmation of our own eyes to 
what Herodotus reports in general terms. In the year 
479 B.C. Mardonius burned and overturned the Initiation 
Hall of Pisistratus. Its building is attributed to the age of 
Pisistratus because the foundation walls of it are practically 
identical both in the materials used, the order of their 

t l Before the Persians, King Cleomenes of Sparta seems to have de 
vastated the sanctuary (Herod, vi. 75, cf. 64, and v. 74 and ff. ) Here is a 
confirmation of the notion suggested by the nature of the remains of 
the earlier Greek walls enclosing the precinct. They must have been a 
fortification, otherwise a King of Sparta would never wantonly have 
attacked them, or the sanctuary which they enclosed. 

After D T Dorpfelds Plan in the Journal of the 

Greek Archaeological Society 1887. and reproduced here. 

by kind permission 


Dotted halchmv <t*n<-t<*fa ver* earliest 

Red, colour shows the t.iwl* destroy < <! /n: 

Grey wlour shows tf,,< vork of Ictmus & later additions 

# Alterations 


ELEUSIS, 1885-1887, 


superposition, and the manner of their putting together, with 
buildings known to have been built by Pisistratus, the great 
advocate of Dionysus, the defender of faith in the gods at 
Eleusis. The ceiling of this Hall was supported by twenty- 
five interior columns, it was entered from the south-east 
through a portico, and it can hardly have failed to justify the 
twenty-five supporting columns by a large upper-story room 
approached no doubt from the level of the upper terrace. 
The Acropolis-rock had not of course been cut away at that 

After this Hall of Pisistratus a Hall of equal frontage but 
twice as deep was built, by cutting into the rock for more 
room. This Hall was supported by twenty -one interior 
columns. To this important structure (which we may call 
the Hall of Cimon, since it was built in his day) must be 
allotted those twenty columns 15 feet apart, more than half 
of their number being hopelessly entangled among the older 
remains of the Hall of Pisistratus. 

Now, therefore, the wilderness at the east angle of the 
hall the columns, bases, and traces, fifty-six in number 
perplexes us no longer. The eastern angle of the Hall 
proper, in Ictinus plan, was the eastern corner of the 
porch of the earlier Hall of Pisistratus. This early building 
with its porch covered slightly more than one-fourth of the 
ground allotted to the Hall of Ictinus, and about half 
of that occupied by the Hall of Cimon. Of the fifty-six 
bases and traces huddled together in this corner of the 
whole space, twenty-five belong to the Hall of Pisistratus, 
fifteen to that of Cimon, and sixteen to the last and 
Roman refashioning of the building. There are no 
columns or bases of columns here which belong to the 
Hall of Ictinus, for the Hall of Ictinus consisted of two 


chambers, a new one added by Ictinus to the already 
existing Hall of Cimon. This will be made clear by con 
sulting the small plan here given and by comparing it with 
the large one. 

Before turning to a consideration of the Hall of Ictinus, 
it is worth while to seek confirmation for the facts in the 
architectural history of the spot thus far obtained. Cor 
responding to some, if not to all, of these successive 
temples, there must have been various walls of enclosure. 
Around the wilderness of column bases, at various dis 
tances and in various directions, extend foundations of 
walls built in the most various manners of masonry. There 
is the old fashion of wall called Cyclopean, there is the 
wall which belongs to the day of Pisistratus, built after 
the manner of the upper foundation-courses of the building 
just south of the Erechtheum, between it and the Parthenon 
at Athens. 1 Then come walls of later and better Greek 
workmanship, belonging to the days of Cimon and Pericles. 
Finally there are abundant traces everywhere of Roman 

The upshot of competent examination here gives us 
traces of a building earlier even than the Hall of Pisistratus, 
of some building dating back perhaps beyond history, a 
building too around which ran a protecting wall. What 
remains of it is indicated by the dotted hatching on the plan. 
The whole space thus pre-historically pre-empted was much 
smaller than the later precinct. All this may be con 
veniently named the Cyclopean Hall, if it be remembered 
that Cyclopean means almost anything, and that there is 
nothing to show whether this early building was a hall or a 

1 For photographs showing this foundation, see Appendix XL i. 14. 
Cf. Mr. Leaf s photograph of Eleusinian foundations, ibid. ii. 40. 


fortress simply. This phrase shall commit us only to the 
vaguest recognition of the antiquity of building upon 
Demeter s Eleusinian place of worship, and will give as a 
background for the successive Halls of Pisistratus, Cimon, 
Ictinus, and the Roman Hall, the dim vision of a primi 
tive place of refuge, and perhaps of a worship primitively 
lodged after the fashion of the so-called " cave temple " l of 
Apollo on Delian Cynthus. 

But after these Cyclopean remains and the three Halls 
above mentioned came the Romans and their buildings and 
repairings. They enlarged the space occupied by the Hall 
of Ictinus, especially towards the Acropolis-rock ; apparently 
they tore down the wall by which Ictinus separated his 
addition from the Hall of Cimon, and they suppressed the 
eight heavy columns (represented on the large plan by six 
large square foundations, and two dotted squares) of Ictinus 
Hall, as well as the twenty-one columns of Cimon s Hall. 
In place of these they put in forty-two columns of their own 
more or less symmetrically distributed over the whole space. 
Upon the Greek walls enclosing the whole sanctuary traces 
of Roman repairing are tolerably clear. The restoration 
of the upper and lesser ceremonial gate by Appius Claudius 
probably amounted to a rebuilding, and the lower wall, 
joining the Lower and Greater Propylaea to the Greek 
fortification walls, is wholly Roman. To sum up the 
history of building on this spot: Behind, everything we 
have (i) the Cyclopean Hall; next came (2) the Hall 
of Pisistratus ; then, after (3) the Hall of Cimon, came 
(4) the Hall of Ictinus, which was succeeded by (5) the 
Roman Hall. 

And now it becomes necessary to give such account as 

1 For some account of this, see below, chap. viii. 



may be possible of the Hall of Ictinus. I owe to the kind 
ness of Dr. Dorpfeld the sketch-plan here given. 






lol lol 




|ol [pi 

1 1 







t-^-i rrr-i 

U U 

\Q\ \Q] 






I. Chamber added by Ictinus. 

K. Hall of Cimon. 

A. Foundations which later served for Philo s Porch. 

This Hall of Ictinus was really two Halls, the old one of 
Cimon, which it was apparently necessary to respect, and 
the new one of Ictinus doubling the available space. It 
seems likely, however, that the new was separated from the 
old by a wall which was changed when Ictinus built from 
the north-west outside wall of Cimon s Hall into a partition 
wall between the two large chambers. The forty-two founda 
tions in the Roman refashioning of the whole form so con 
spicuous a feature on the large plan that it is difficult to 


disentangle from them the work of Ictinus and Cimon. 
The late character of these forty-two bases is proved by the 
comparative poorness of their construction and by the 
presence of a Roman inscription among materials built 
into the most easterly of these forty -two bases. The 
Romans made a slight gain in size by hewing a few more 
inches out of the native rock, and hence their Hall was up 
wards of 170 feet in length by about 169 in width. The 
Hall of Ictinus, including both compartments, was ap 
parently of the latter dimension both ways. That it had 
a partition wall is made probable by the necessity of respect 
ing what Cimon built, and still more nearly certain by the 
survival in the Roman plan of two front doors of entrance. 
These doors were necessary before they remodelled the 
interior and removed the partition. Afterwards one large 
one would have been in every way more effective and 
useful, but so serious a departure from the original plan 
was not made. Nothing is definitely known, however, of 
what and where were the doors used in Greek days. Since 
the Hall of Ictinus had this partition, its lower story would 
not have been suited for the largest meetings. Hence the 
necessity of an upper story where the space, divided below, 
was thrown into one large square room. In this room, 
entered from the upper terrace where lay the larger Temple 
supposably that of Demeter we imagine services to have 
been held in the greatest days of Athens. 

There is no room for doubt as to the existence of an 
upper story, because Plutarch s testimony is explicit, 1 and is 
confirmed by various features of the site. The numerous 
columns of the lower hall require it, as before said; and 
moreover a carefully wrought terrace, 2 hewn out of the 

1 See above, note i, p. 191. - Plutarch s 


rock high up, on the level probably with its ceiling, calls 
for it. Ictinus, following no doubt the practice used in 
building the Hall of Cimon, utilised the receding con 
figuration of the rock-hill, for the first story, by hewing 
from a point high enough above the level of the Hall of 
Pisistratus to give his ground floor sufficient height, and 
thus placed its north and west corners in the solid rock ; he 
was, in beginning again from that high point, so near the 
rounding top of the hill that he could easily cut out this 
upper ledge from which to step into the second story of his 
great hall. To this ledge broad rock -cut stairs lead up 
from a point near the western angle of the lower hall, while 
narrower steps are found at the north angle. Mount these 
stairs and you are on the artificial terrace just described, 
and find that it is a continuation, beyond the outer 
walls of the Hall, of the floor of the upper story. More 
than the fact of its existence at the level of this still 
existing ledge we do not know of Ictinus upper chamber or 
hall, except that Metagenes of Xypeta, who fashioned the 
outside ledge, set up the upper story columns. There is, 
of course, very little doubt that a similar upper chamber 
existed in the Hall of Pisistratus, all of whose essential 
features were reproduced four times as large by Ictinus, 
who here, as at Bassae, included the site of the ancient 
sanctuary in his new building. At Bassae the old temple 
of Apollo, facing east, was incorporated by Ictinus into 
the great Temple facing north and south. The configura 
tion of the Eleusinian Acropolis did not force the architect 
to make any change in orientation, and Ictinus faced his 
hall south-east just as the smaller hall of Pisistratus, its 
predecessor, had faced. Only by a skilful use of new space 
and of the upward slope of the rock Ictinus made his Hall 


look far longer in proportion to its width than it really was, 
and therefore his building assumed something more near the 
ordinary proportions of such a temple as the Parthenon. 
The device above alluded to was the suggestion that the 
back of the building was hidden in the rock, which was in 
fact to some extent the case. Something in the finished 
surface of a vertical course of rocks along the north-west 
or Acropolis side of the raised ledge (or Sid^w/jia), already 
talked of, makes it seem probable that this impression of a 
temple to the gods of nether earth, partly hid by that jealous 
element and partly showing in the light of day, was still 
further enhanced by the suggestion of a portico towards the 
Acropolis. It is conceivable that the roof of the upper 
story should have covered more than the space above the 
lower hall, by the extent of this ledge. Thus would the 
demands of symmetry, always listened to by Greek artists, 
and heeded by none more than by the architect of the 
Parthenon, have been satisfied. This single story would 
have looked like the top of a larger porch whose lower 
parts were concealed. This would have been such a 
counterpoise to the porch of Philo on the opposite or front 
end as was allowed by the requirements of the ritual and 
the configuration of the precinct of the gods at Eleusis. 
Other considerations of proportion make this notion that a 
porch was suggested at the back seem plausible to me. 
One of these is that the space between the front wall of the 
initiation chamber and the front of the colonnade of Philo s 
porch is just about the width of the upper ledge extending 
from the back wall of the same chamber (the wall hewn out 
of the rock) to the point where the hill unhewn resumes its 
natural upward slope. The second argument from propor 
tion is simply the Greek habit, and especially that of Ictinus, 


which would seem to have abhorred undisguised and un 
blushing squareness in a building. Ictinus was willing to 
increase at Bassae the difference between length and 
breadth which he had made so markedly in the Parthenon 
(as compared with previous buildings), and there was still 
more reason for him to do something of the kind at 
Eleusis, since the total height of Philo s portico some 
equivalent to which was contemplated in Ictinus plan 
must have been that of the two stories behind it. This 
must have seemed to come dangerously near l the dimen 
sions of the hall itself. Therefore, without some such 
device he would have had a building of very obviously 
monotonous proportions, not far from a cube in the effect 
of its mass upon the eye. With the aid, however, of Philo s 
porch and of the corresponding porch suggested at the back, 
the whole building viewed from without gains the appearance 
of a lofty structure about half as long again as it is wide. The 
back of this building showed only indistinctly because its 
base was wholly entangled and involved in the hill out of 
which the front portion had completely disengaged itself, 
standing forth with its portico of fourteen lofty columns. 
Nether earth clung to her fraction of this Hall of the 
Eleusinian gods, just as she claimed her fraction of fair 
Persephone s life. 

Such then was the Telesterion, the great house of wor 
ship at Eleusis, the enlarged and embellished substitute 
for that once built according to the commands given by 
Demeter to Triptolemus, and to his father and brethren. 

1 I do not of course mean to suggest the possibility of its really having 
been even half as high as the hall was long. But the height was of course 
exceptional, and to it so far as the eye of one approaching Philo s porch, 
or the building as Ictinus left it, was concerned had to be added that of 
steps leading up to it. 


She commanded that it be built above the well Callichoros 
by name where Celeus daughters found her sorrowing as 
she sat. This well and the Agelastos Petra or Laughless 
Stone close by it, upon which the goddess sat, cannot now 
be found. Such was not the case in ancient days, as is 
shown by the following record found in one of the inscribed 
temple accounts unearthed upon the spot. 

" Paid for the transport of 25,000 bricks to the Eleusinian 
temple in Athens from the (Agelastos) Laughless Stone, 
120 drachmae." From these same accounts it further 
appears that the Rarian plain memorable because^ it was 
there that Triptolemus first taught men the cultivation of 
grain was owned and farmed by the Eleusinian temple 
administration. One entry shows that the grain from this 
field came to the priest at Eleusis, and another entry runs : 
" To Nicon, for removing a corpse from the plain and 
for its purification." An especial item allowed in this 
account is for a pig used in the cleansing or purification 
just mentioned. The account above alluded to, of 25,000 
bricks transported from Eleusis to the Eleusinian precinct 
in Athens at the expense of the administrators of the 
sanctuary at Eleusis, indicates that the two holy precincts 
were under one management, and recalls the story of the 
institution of the Lesser Mysteries at Athens and their close 
affiliation with the Eleusinian festival. 1 

This lesser and affiliated festival was celebrated at 
Athens in the month of flowers (February-March), and the 
Athenian precinct where these Lesser Mysteries took place 
was appropriately called the Eleusinion. Of this and of its 
two temples, one of Demeter and Persephone, and one of 
Triptolemus, I have already had occasion to speak, and 

1 See above, ch. iv. 


also of the statue which it contained representing that great 
religious mediator, Epimenides of Crete, who consecrated 
this Eleusinion, and through the Lesser Mysteries made 
of the worship at Eleusis a bond of union between those 
old-time rivals, Athens and Eleusis. To the former and 
more or less exclusively Eleusinian and patrician worship 
of Demeter, Persephone, and Hades, a new and popular 
feature attached itself in honour of the Icarian and Athenian 
Dionysus, and the yearly visit of Dionysus lacchus to the 
gods at Eleusis was made a cardinal and carnival feature in 
the Eleusinian Mysteries, which thus became a pledge of 
brotherhood and equality for all the tribes of Attic-born 
men. 1 

The Lesser Mysteries at Athens were a sort of preface 
to the greater ones of Eleusis, 2 and the time of their cele 
bration was earlier in the year. The Greater or Epoptical 
Mysteries did not come until the month Boedromion 
(August-September), six months later than the flower-month 
(Anthesterion) of the Lesser Mysteries. 

The ordinary progress of initiation was as follows : In 
the flower month at Athens an applicant could become a 
mystes a novice, let us say by participation in the Lesser 
Mysteries at the Athenian Eleusinion. Thus, and appar 
ently only thus, was a man qualified to take part, six months 
later, in the Greater Mysteries at Eleusis. But even then he 
appeared at Eleusis only as a mystes or novice, and could 
not join in all the acts of worship or see all the ceremonial. 
After a year had elapsed, however, our mystes became an 

1 Mannhardt very truly says that the inspiration drawn from initiation 
at Eleusis by the noblest spirits of Greece has illustrated the sanctuary 
there as a place where humanity made one of its most ennobling forward 
steps (Posthumous Essays, "Demeter"). 

2 The apxujj f3a<ri.\evs with four commissioners (eTri/xeA^rcu) appears to 
have controlled the whole cult at Athens and Eleusis. 


epoptes, and as such saw with his own eyes and heard with 
his own ears all that the Greater or Epoptical Mysteries 
afforded. The religious privileges of the completely initiated 
are reached at Eleusis by two qualifying stages, as who 
should say by baptism at the Lesser, and confirmation at the 
Greater Mysteries. 1 The vague and unprecise terms in which 
the full ceremony is described are terms of sight. The 
Epoptes or Viewer is said to have Autopsy, or sight with his 
own eyes Real Vision. These hints, with others, such as 
the connection between showing light and the title of the 
leader of the mystic ceremonial who was called Hierophant, 
persuade some that after a period of darkness the initiated 
saw a great light. 

Little as we know of the unrevealed ceremonial that 
took place within the Eleusinian precinct, we know that 
enormous numbers, as many perhaps as 30,000,2 gathered 
from various parts of Greece went from Athens, and we 
know something in detail of the preliminaries at Athens and 
of the observances on the Sacred Way to Eleusis. The 
whole festival lasted about twelve days. Several days before 
it began there was a preliminary meeting at Athens. Just 
one day before it there was also at Athens the day of puri 
fication. All the mystae 3 and every creature and thing 

1 Plutarch in his life of Demetrius Poliorcetes (26) says of Demetrius : r6re 
8 o$v dvafcvyvvuv els ras Adrjvas cypa-^ev 6 n /SouXercu 

evdbs /j.vr]drjvaL /cai rty reXeT-rji/ (Liracrav airb T&V fjuicp&v 
eTTOTTTLKijjv trapa.\af3ew, TOVTO 5" ou Otfjurov ty ovfte yeyovbs irpbrepov 
. . . eTTUTrrevov de TouX(%i0"ro eviavrbv dtaXelTrovres. The 
intimidated governors at Athens did not dream of refusing this unparalleled 
demand, but resorted to a juggle with their calendar that the letter of the 
sacred law might be observed. 

2 See Herod, viii. 65, where the visionary procession on the Sacred 
Way is seen Kovioprbv x.upeovra. O.TT EXewnVos ws dvdp&v /txdXtora Kr) rpiff- 

3 See ibid, the account of the freedom of all to be initiated. Dicaeus 
there describes the Eleusinian festival for the benefit of king Demaratus, 



that was to play a part in the great ceremonial underwent 
purgation by washing in the sea. 

Sea-surges dash all human harms away, says Euripides 
somewhere, 1 expressing a belief well-nigh universal in 
ancient Greece. Truly the sea entered into Greek worship, 
with its suggestions of infinite space and calm, of limitless 
motion, its mighty and tumultuous heart-beat. At Eleusis 
and elsewhere the ever -sounding sea, whose surge still 
echoes through the most beautiful and pious masterpieces 
of the tragic, the lyric, and the epic muse, was present with 
worshippers whose frequent footfall reverberated through 
the precincts and the dwellings of the gods in Greece. 

The first two days of the Eleusinian-Athenian festival 
were spent in Athens after these ceremonies of purgation. 

Solemn preparations were there and then completed for 
the great ceremonial procession from Athens to Eleusis 
along the Sacred Way and through the sacred gates into the 
precinct and its Great Hall of Initiation. By means of all 
this pomp Dionysus-Iacchos was associated with Demeter 
and Persephone at Eleusis, and Dionysus became one 
of the gods at Eleusis, under the name of lacchos 
which was chanted by the mystae all through the day 
while they brought him to Eleusis, and again during the day 
spent in bringing him back to his home in the Athenian 
laccheion, 2 within the Eleusinion already much spoken of. 

Underlying all the light-heartedness shown by those who 

saying : TT^V 8 opTyv ralJTrjv &yov<ri Adyvaiot dva irdvra Urea rr/ M.r)rpl 
Kal TTJ Koi/p?7 (the regular phrase for Demeter and Persephone), Kal 
avruv re 6 j8ouA6/uej os Kal TWV &\\uv EXXTyj WJ /iveiTcu Kal 
TT}v (fiuvriv r?7S a/comets kv ratr-fl ry bprrf laKxdfrovffi. This last word 
describes the cry " lacch , Oh lacchos," and thus brings into prominence 
the part of Dionysus in these yearly observances. 

1 /. T. 1193. 

2 Plutarch, Arist. 27. See above the citations from Herod, viii. 65. 


joined this procession was an incommunicable solemnity 
shadowed forth in that strangely awe-inspiring chapter 
where Herodotus tells of a vision of floating dust and of 
echoing cries from a ghostly choir of disembodied celebrants 
on the Sacred Way from Athens. 1 This host from the 
world beyond led lacchos to the rescue at a time when 
Attic sanctuaries had been devastated and Athenian altars 
overturned, when none dared longer to walk in the 
deserted streets of Athens or visit her ruined temples. By 
this portentous apparition the doom of the Persian invader 
was foreshadowed and the coming of a brighter day was 
assured by the gods at Eleusis. They sent forth in the 
darkest hour of danger and despair a rescuing band of 
hope to lead fainting Hellas from martyrdom to peace. 
After the dust and the sound as of many voices, a mist arose 
and floated off towards Salamis, foreboding the destruction 
of the Persian fleet. Thus in the eyes of Herodotus a fit 
spokesman here as elsewhere for all the faithful the Holy 
Alliance at Eleusis of Demeter, Persephone, and Dionysus 
the Mother, the Daughter, and the Son was the com 
forter and the saviour. Through it were assured knowledge 
and maintenance of Greek laws and religion, progress in 
learning, and union of heart with all the divinities of Hellas. 2 
No wonder then, if the yearly procession of the living 
mystae was often thought of as a foretaste of the life beyond, 
a dim vision of happiness to be hereafter in the islands of 
the blest, a rehearsal or promise in this world of the 
performance in the world to come. No wonder that 

1 The first reading suggests that Herodotus is thinking of a procession 
from Eleusis to Athens ; that is not, however, necessarily the case. For 
the passage, see above, note 2, p. 209. 

2 rbv rpo(f>{a, rbv ffWTrjpa di 8v eldov v6fjiovs"E\\r)i>as, 



Aristophanes puts away for a moment his cap and bells 
when, having brought down into the world below his 
caricature of the god Dionysus accompanied by Xanthias, a 
type of the boisterous clown in old comedy, he suddenly 
confronts these two jesters with the march, the music, and 
the song of a mystic chorus of the initiated, who are repeating 
in the world below the yearly procession from Athens to 
Eleusis. They are bringing home the god lacchos. Here 
is a striking and unstudied homage paid to the solemnity 
of Eleusinian worship in the sudden cessation of boisterous 
fooling at the approach of the mystae. 1 Breathless and all 
in a tremor they finally hear the mystic cry from afar : 
" lacch , oh lacchos ! lacch , oh lacchos ! " 2 Then they 
know that the band of the faithful is coming, and are 
abashed, and for the first time they hold their peace. 

Meanwhile the mystae draw near and enter the orchestra 
with a song to the god in their midst : 3 " Stir thou the fire- 
flakes of torches, whirling them with thy hands, lacch , oh 
lacchos, fire-bearing star of night and of our mystic rites. 
Look, the meadow is aflame with fire ; old men s knees are 
lithe for dancing now, they shake off all their pains and all 
the time-long weariness of hoary years in the rites of holy 
observance ; but thou, flaming with thy torch, lead on the 
forward march to the blossoming meadows by the stream." 

Here, as a preface to the solemn invocation of each of 
the three gods at Eleusis in turn, the Hierophant bids the 
profane and uninitiated to depart : "I forbid them, I forbid 
them again, and again a third time I forbid them ; let them 
make way for the initiated." Turning to the latter, he then 

1 Aristoph. Frogs, 312, cf. 154 ff. 

2 Ibid. 316-459. 

3 Only the substance is here given, except where every word has its 
important bearing. 


says : " Raise ye the voice of song, begin your night-long 
revels that beseem the festival we keep." 

Then follows a solemn processional song in honour of 
Persephone, which is full of the cheer of glad spring. 
Manfully each is advancing towards the flowering nooks 
of fair meadows, dancing, gibing, frolicking, and railing 
cheerily. For verily each has had his fill of fasting and 
purification. " March on in cadence, and take care to exalt 
right heartily the saviour goddess with your voice in song 
uplifted, for she it is who saith that she is the country s 
salvation forever assured." 

Now the Hierophant bids them invoke and give thanks 
to the harvest-queen Demeter, and thus their song begins : 
" Demeter, queen of hallowed services, join now in help of 
thine own to save them. Suffer me to dance the livelong 
day in unendangered jollity, and let me utter much in jest, 
and much in earnest too. Make my doings worthy of thy 
festival, and when my frolic hour is past, and all my fooling 
done, victorious let me crown my brow." 

And now the Hierophant calls for a song in honour of 
the last of the three, the last-come god at Eleusis, who is 
first in the hearts of those whom he has led and who have 
brought him to the Eleusinian merry-making mysteries. 
" lacchos," they fervently sing, "most precious to my heart, 
make this the sweetest moment of the feast, follow along 
with me to the dwelling of the goddess, and show thee a 
stranger to weariness though long is the journey that thou 
art making. Oh lacchos, lover of the dance, come thou with 
me to help me on the way. Yea, in merrily tattered garb 
with thy sandals recklessly torn thou canst discover the 
way to let us dance and play and pay no penalty. Oh 
lacchos, lover of the dance, come thou with me to Jielp me on 


the way. For verily I gave a sidelong glance at a bit of a 
girl just now, and through a rent in her bosom s array I 
caught sight of my beauteous playmate s charms. Oh 
lacchos, lover of the dance, come thou with me to help me on 
the way" 

The unruly element, associated chiefly with a certain 
phase of the cult of Dionysus, has asserted itself more and 
more in this last song, and at the end it reaches such a 
pitch of license that the two jesters quite recover their 
balance of mind, while the chorus of the initiated yields 
wholly to a headstrong impulse. Trusting in lacchos for 
impunity, they fling wide the floodgates of ribaldry, raining 
alike upon the unjust and the just their jibes, sacred and 
profane, mentionable and unmentionable. "Now if you 
choose," they say, " let us join one and all in scoffing at 
Archedemus. Why, he has lived to be seven years old 
before he cut a single Athenian grinder, 1 you know, but 
still he s in business in the demagoguing line up in the world 
among the living corpses, a captain in the knavery of the 
world." 2 And so the mud-throwing goes merrily from bad 
to worse and worst, giving a wonderfully telling and ideally 
realistic picture of scenes that were yearly enacted by the 
real procession from Athens to Eleusis. This feature in 
the day s doings was connected with a bridge over the 
Attic river Cephissus. Just out of the gates of Athens, 
just after various solemn preliminaries at the city shrines 
had ended, the mystae halted, and took their revenge for 
days of purification and fasting. Here they let their pent- 
up jollity have its full fling, and these jibes at the bridge 
have also to take their part in the netherworld celebration 
described by Aristophanes. 

1 O$K tyvtre (pparepas. 


At last there is a pause, the Hierophant bids them re 
sume their march, and gradually as they go the thought of 
the woes of Demeter shows itself first in their choice of 
words, and finally in the return of serious thoughts and 
solemn aspirations* which form the pious burden of their 
closing strain. " Onward we go to the flower-faced meadows 
where abundant roses grow. On we go, in our own merry 
fashion dancing, dancing more than well l the measure led 
off by the glorious Fates. On us alone in very truth the 
sun doth shine, we only know the light of gladness, as 
many of us as have passed through the rites of the Mysteries, 
and lead our lives in piety among the native born and 
the strangers within our city s gates." 

Here we have a case where all the essentially religious 
features of the yearly holiday-making in honour of the gods 
at Eleusis were enacted before the eyes of those who under 
ordinary circumstances would yearly take part in the cele 
bration themselves the whole Athenian public. But the 
circumstances were extraordinary ; and although the scene 
is in a comedy, there is throughout a pervasive seriousness 
which alone would require us to assign a religious motive 
for its performance that motive was the satisfaction of a 
fervent desire to propitiate the gods at Eleusis felt uni 
versally at Athens. The play was brought out in January 
of the year 405, just after the dearly bought victory of 
Athens at Arginusae. 2 Ever since the Spartans had taken 
the advice of the exiled Alcibiades and maintained a garri 
son in Attica at Decelea, the merriment of the yearly 

1 rbv Ka\\LXopuTa.Tov (rpdirov] has an unmistakable reminiscence in 
meaning and sound of the KaXXixopov (fiptap, where Demeter sat until 
she was comforted there by dances. Homer, Hymn to Demeter, 272 ; 
Pausanias, I. xxxviii. 6. 

2 See Kock s introduction to his edition of the Frogs. 


procession to Eleusis had been greatly interfered with, even 
though it be supposed to have had the protection of a 
sacred truce. 1 Thus at a time when the Athenians were in 
a gloomy and thoroughly discouraged state of mind, the 
religious consolations and assurances of salvation gained by 
the normal celebration at Eleusis and the processions before 
and after it were so curtailed that, instead of expecting help 
from Eleusis, the pious Athenian must have feared that the 
Eleusinian Alliance of gods was offended by years of com 
parative neglect. Then it was that Aristophanes, inspired 
perhaps by the story recorded in Herodotus of a visionary 
celebration held by the departed in the upper world, hit 
upon the idea of having something like it celebrated by his 
living mimes in a stage counterfeit of the world below. 
The resulting success of his play was overwhelming and 
unexampled. The Frogs was acted a second time without 
alteration that same year, and over and above all the 
ordinary marks and rewards of victory, the poet had given 
to him a branch of the sacred Athenian olive-tree. This 
last honour was a rare and high mark of popular gratitude 
for great help to the State, paid afterwards to Thrasybulus. 
It was equivalent to the public bestowal of a crown of gold, 
which fell to the lot of Demosthenes. Only the propitiation 
of the favour of the gods at Eleusis, a thing quite independ 
ent of the merits of the play, could have warranted such a 
mark of favour to Aristophanes. 

To his audience the presentation which Aristophanes 
gave of the procession and the rites before and after up to 
the moment when the real and most unutterable mysteries 
began was in fact eminently consoling, for the poet, without 

1 The willingness of Sparta to interfere with Eleusinian worship had 
been amply shown by the conduct of Cleomenes referred to above. 


dwelling upon details known familiarly to all, reproduced 
the spirit and the truth of the observance. Indeed as the 
mystae leave his stage they are proclaiming the justice and 
loving-kindness of Athens to all within her gates. In order 
to complete in detail the picture given by our poet, certain 
facts familiar to his audience, or else presented to them 
visually on the stage, must be rehearsed and heeded. Some 
of them are as follows : The Hierophant or leader and 
marshaller of the procession had other names such as 
laccha^ogos, the Vauntcourier or Leader of lacchos. 
Through the Holy Gate they passed crowned with parsley 
and with ivy where fruits were intertwined. In their hands 
they carried Bacchus lighted torches or else Demeter s 
sheaves, and thus their mere array was eloquent of har 
mony between the goddess and the god. Many were the 
stations required by immemorial custom for this procession. 
Harvest usages observed in the intervening villages 
naturally grouped themselves around the passage of these 
pilgrims, who formed the annual escort of the farmer s god, 
Dionysus, to Eleusis. 1 Before the Attic Cephissus was 
reached the district of Lakkiadae required a pious pause. 
Phytalus there had played host to Demeter, and his reward 
had been the gift of figs. With jibes and jollity the 
Eleusinian band crossed the memorable bridge and ap 
proached the altars of most gentle Zeus beyond the 
Cephissus. Reminiscences of heroic Theseus detained 
them then, and after this they halted at the shrine of 
Cyamites, giver of beans. Much as the Bean -giver was 
here revered, the beans which he gave, and all beans, were 
strictly excluded from the Eleusinian precinct of Demeter. 

1 For a more complete account see F. Lenormant s La -vote sacrle 
already alluded to. 


This, says Pausanias, is a mystery known to those initiated 
at Eleusis. 1 

In the pass where stands the modern cloister and church 
of Daphne they stopped at a temple originally Apollo s, but 
where later on Demeter and Athena shared the sanctuary 
with Apollo. Then, just after a forward glimpse of the bay 
of Eleusis, halt was made at Aphrodite s temple, and the 
tomb of Eumolpus was reached. This great Eleusinian 
hero welcomed them and lacchos to the Eleusinian plain, 
all the more heartily perhaps because, like Dionysus himself, 
he was from Thrace. 2 

A whole book was written in antiquity by Polemon on 
this processional progress, and Pausanias repeats from this 
source many interesting details, willing all the more to give 
information on the preliminaries of the great Eleusinian 
festival because divine warning has sealed his lips about 
the Mysteries themselves. 

It does not suit the present theme, however, to dwell 
further upon details ; enough has already been said to 
show how great a complexity of ritual, what an enormous 
variety of local customs, attended the annual progress of 
Dionysus to Eleusis. If the ceremonial used upon his 
arrival were known to us, we should doubtless marvel still 
more at the power of growth and of fusion inherent in the 
local religions of Attica, at the way in which Demeter and 
Persephone tamed the wildness of Thracian Dionysus, while 
all three counteracted the bloodless gloom of Hades and 
were united with him at Eleusis in the time-honoured 
observance of eight hundred years. 

1 The bean seems by long familiarity to have fallen into contempt, so 
that we no longer shudder at it, and are only amused at Pythagorean 
scruples which led men to die rather than pass through a field planted 
with this tragic vegetable. 2 Strabo, VIII. vii. i (383). 


ONE of the great features of the Greater Mysteries com 
memorated the Eleusinian initiation of the god Aescul 
apius. In the fabulous past this god of healing had crossed 
the Saronic gulf and associated himself and his Epidaurian 
worship with Athens and Eleusis, and this mythical arrival 
prefigured, as it were, the introduction of Aesculapian wor 
ship at Athens, and the renown of his Athenian shrine 
founded from Epidaurus in historical times. 

In the days of his widest influence Aesculapius, the god 
of healing, was looked upon in spite of various records 
making him a son of Zeus as the son of Apollo. So com 
pletely was he associated at one time or another with his 
father Apollo Epicures or Epicurios, the supporter of 
health, that we may if we choose look upon him as 
Apollo s plenipotentiary in the comparatively late legend 
that connects him with Eleusis. 1 A tie of more than com- 

1 The influence of Pythagoreanism upon the beginnings of medicine 
is not less abundantly proven than the close tie that bound Pythagoras 
and his school to Apollo. Seven of the Alexandrine doctors (see Darem- 
berg s list) bore the name Apollonius. This denoted one whose spirit 
was under Apolline guidance. Such a son of the healing spirit of Apollo 
was Aesculapius, the divine exemplar to whom Greek doctors looked up. 


mon strength seems to attach him to Demeter and Perse 
phone, for he is associated with them in certain bas-reliefs. 
His connection with Dionysus is vaguer by far, but not less 

Ultimately it may be possible to make out with some 
clearness the precise nature of this tie binding Aesculapius 
to the gods at Eleusis. But, in the present state of know 
ledge, the closest scrutiny of Aesculapius and his worship 
only reveals uncertain associations and resemblances. 
Like the gods at Eleusis, Aesculapius was not recognised 
in the fulness of his subsequent godhead by the Greeks 
of Homer s epoch. Aesculapius, like those same gods, 
but far more vaguely and uncertainly, is a nature -god. 
Like Dionysus and Demeter he, or at least his character 
istic element, came to an ultimate and more southerly 
birth-place from the north. 1 Perhaps he may be looked 
upon as a netherworld nature-divinity, the same in many 
respects with Dionysus, but without his tragic intensity. 
To this residuum add something of the Olympian mildness 
of Zeus, and you have a being who may with equal appro 
priateness be classed with the netherworld brother of Zeus 
or be called a son of Zeus. Dionysus came from Thrace 

In later days Apollonius of Tyana (see Appendix IV. below), the favourite 
of Aesculapius, stood for the same Apolline perfection. In prayers and 
offerings at Aesculapius shrine Apollo was commonly named first and then 
Aesculapius, and furthermore, according to the rule of Hippocrates, every 
doctor qualified as such by an oath in the name of Apollo the healer, 
and of Aesculapius, of Hygieia and Panacea, and of all the gods and 
all the goddesses." 

1 I have not found it either possible or advisable to go into the theory, 
a plausible one, that the Thracians may have been the Pelasgian pre 
decessors of what we call the Greek civilisation, and that we should not 
talk of an invasion from the north, but rather of a survival or inheritance. 
According to this view the most ancient traces of building on the Acropolis, 
whether of Eleusis or of Athens, might be attributed to these Pelasgo- 


and from Macedonia just beyond the range of Mount 
Olympus, Aesculapius came from that part of Thessaly 
which is closest to these mountains, and Demeter s Thes- 
salian origin was from Pyrasus not far away. At Pyrasus 
was Demeter s first home, and among the mountain 
tribes near by Aesculapius originated. He was the tribal 
god of the half mythological people called Phlegyae and 
Lapithae. In the wake of northern tribes this god Aescu 
lapius a more majestic figure than the blameless leech of 
Homer s song came by land to Epidaurus and was carried 
by sea to the eastward island of Cos. With him perhaps 
was borne from her Thessalian home the goddess Demeter, 
who found her Cnidian shrine not far from the Coan home 
of Aesculapius. This southward journey is the counterpart 
of that by which Dionysus is supposed to have reached, 
with bands of Thracian invaders, Attica and Boeotia as well 
as his island home on Naxos. Our knowledge of these 
invasions, Thracian and Thessalian, is so misty that it is 
well-nigh absurd to attempt to say which preceded the 
other, or indeed to maintain with any vigour that all these 
various divinities cannot have been brought in by one and 
the same southward movement of mountain tribes ; for the 
boundary line separating Thessalians from Macedonians, 
and the distinction never clear between Macedonians 
and Thracians, are not strictly applicable to these prehistoric 

Arrived from the north, Aesculapius grew in importance 
with the growth of Greece, but may not have attained his 
greatest power until Greece and Rome were one. At all 
events every stage of his power and prestige connects itself 
so closely with the various phases of secular medicine that, 
in order to understand the results of recent excavations at 


Athens and Epidaurus, made at both places in sanctuaries 
of Aesculapius, something must be said about the position 
of Greek doctors and the history of Greek medicine, sacred 
and secular. This last distinction was certainly not made 
until after the fabled siege of Troy, as is shown by the 
earliest record of Greek opinion about doctors which is to 
be found in the Iliad. One of the sons of Aesculapius, 
Machaon, was seriously wounded in a melee. When he 
fell disabled, consternation seized the Greeks until Nestor s 
timely aid was invoked. Nestor, the personification of 
respectable tradition in those days, bears off the healer 
Machaon, declaring roundly, as he does so, that a doctor is 
far better worth saving than many warriors unskilled in 
leechcraft. Plainly a doctor, as Nestor understood the 
word, meant not a secular but a sacred person, and 
medicine was both sacred and secular. Here is a half 
superstitious and wholly generous admiration for skill 
in medicine that may be called a typically Greek senti 
ment ; since it never has died out in Greece, and is found 
intact among the Homerically simple-minded peasants of 
to-day. 1 

It will eventually be necessary to analyse this typically 
Greek sentiment of Nestor s and to appeal to the Homeric 
poems at large about doctors and medicine. Thus we shall 
understand on the one hand the worship of Aesculapius as 
a wonder-worker, and on the other the non-miraculous pro 
fessional skill possessed by Greek doctors who pursued the 
art of healing and perfected the science of medicine inde 
pendently of the god. Let us begin our survey at a time 
when doctors had a considerable knowledge of medicine. 
This unmiraculous and scientific profession may be traced 

1 See Appendix V. on the status of Greek doctors in modern times. 


back to a correspondingly positive and unsuperstitious 
aspect of Homeric medicine. 1 

Let us consider the condition of Greek medicine as it 
was in the days of Hippocrates of Cos, ordinarily miscalled 
the father of Greek medicine. A casual glance at Littre s 
complete edition of all works handed down under the name 
of Hippocrates shows that among them are monuments of 
sound medical labours carried out before his day. Indeed 
Hippocrates dealt with a large body of ascertained medical 
facts, and Greek medicine was far advanced when he began. 
To make this apparent we need only consider the career of 
Democedes as related by Herodotus. 

Two generations before Hippocrates, in the second half 
of the sixth century B.C., this Democedes lived, and enjoyed 
an Asiatic renown, equivalent in those days to what our 
doctors call a European reputation. Starting from the far 
west, Croton in Italy, where Pythagoreanism had given a 
great impetus to the study of medicine, 2 the alert and 
ready-witted Democedes went to Aegina and distanced all 
competitors in the race for appointment there. This was 
the more brilliant, says Herodotus, because he was, when he 
entered the lists, without the instruments freely used by his 
fellow-candidates. A year s service on Aegina as public 

1 Daremberg, Histoire des Sciences Mtdicales, I. ch. iii. 

2 The influence of many philosophers may be traced in the method and 
opinions of Hippocrates, but probably no school affected the beginnings 
of medicine so much as that of Pythagoras. See, among the letters at 
tributed to Apollonius of Tyana, number xxiii. , Pythagoras said that 
medicine came most near to divinity, and inasmuch as this was the case, 
medicine should care for the soul as well as for the body; or else the 
whole living being would fail of full health from having his higher element 
diseased." The Pythagorean Alcmaeon of Croton was addicted to anatomy 
he dissected animals ; and these studies contributed to give a specially 
useful bent to the school of medicine at Croton, of whose renown Hero 
dotus makes admiring mention. It must be remembered that Croton was 
the centre of Pythagoreanism. 


practitioner paid by the state so increased the reputation of 
Democedes that Athens offered him the same duties and an 
increase of salary. He was no sooner settled at his work in 
Athens than Polycrates, the too-fortunate tyrant of Samos, 
succeeded in getting him by doubling his salary. A call 
still further east soon came to Democedes, a promotion 
under the disguise of complete disaster. The flood of 
fortune that had so long upborne his patron Polycrates 
ebbed suddenly away. Democedes, captured and enslaved 
during the sack of Samos, was hurried into the far interior, 
to the palace of Darius. Long a despised and unnoted 
captive, he was at last terrified by a summons to the 
king. The rest of the story, beginning with his refusal 
to acknowledge his own skill, repeated itself at the court 
of the Duke of Savoy in the sixteenth century, 1 and is 
travestied in one of Moliere s best farces. Threats over 
came the great doctor s scruples; and Darius sprain, 
which had only been aggravated by the treatment of the 
accredited Egyptian doctors, was quickly and completely 

The story of Democedes career proves at least that 
Herodotus, writing and living early in the days of Pericles 
and Hippocrates, believed that skilled doctors of Greek 
training had been in request as such for a century and a 
half at least. To show how advanced was the condition of 
medical science in the day of Herodotus, there is all manner 
of undoubted testimony. Socrates for instance, who 
was only eight years older than the great Coan doctor, 
throws light upon this point in his chaff of a friend named 
Euthydemus, who undertook to make a stir in the world by 
having many books. " Of course you who have so many 

1 See Malgaigne s Chirurgie grecque avant Hippocrate, 


books are going in for being a doctor," says Socrates, and 
then he adds, " there are so many books on medicine, you 
know." Euthydemus repudiates this inference with indigna 
tion. Whatever the quality of these books may have been, 
their number must have been great to give point to this 
chaff. Xenophon is nearly contemporary though some 
what later, and his testimony may be added. The liberal 
provision of medical care for his retreating army, the 
matter-of-course way in which the most suitable remedies get 
themselves promptly applied on occasion all this tells of 
an established system of military practice, 1 and proves again 
how little sense there ever was in saying that Greek medicine 
began in 460 B.C. with Hippocrates of Cos. There can be 
no doubt that Hippocrates was not bred under the shadow 
of the great Coan temple of Aesculapius for nothing. His 
own writings prove that he heeded well the lore of the 
priests at Cos. For, although he is not the author of the 
compilation made from materials accumulated at the Coan 
temple and included among his supposed work, he plainly 
used that compilation, and was guided by the traditions 
which it embodies. It is equally certain that he gathered 
in the fruits of many generations of zealous labour in surgery, 
and it seems possible that much of the surgery before his 
time had been developed quite independently, without 
knowledge, so to speak, or connivance of Aesculapius, the 
god of medicine. There is at all events little or nothing to 
show that Aesculapius was worshipped in Magna Grecia 
and at Croton, while Democedes, who was trained there, 
certainly was specially qualified as a surgeon. Malgaigne 

1 See in the Gazette Hebdomadaire de Mddecine et de Chirurgie for 
June 2oth 1879, Dr. Corlieu s " 6tude m^dicale sur la retraite des 10,000 
precde3de considerations sur la me decine militaire dans les armies 



goes too far if he claims that Democedes had not a full 
acquaintance with the remedies in use when he flourished. 1 
It is best, however, not to linger over the question 
whether or not the surgery known to Hippocrates had 
become as intimately associated with the shrines of Aescu 
lapius and the guild of the Asclepiadae as the other tradi 
tions and practices which made up early Greek medicine. 2 
One thing at least is certain, that necessity was the mother 
of this invention \ it had a secular origin in constant war 
fare. To the bickerings of earliest Greece science owes a 
greater debt than is often recognised. The fullest record of 
the way in which this debt was incurred is found in the Iliad^ 
that poem of glorified bloodshed. Here is the positive, the 
secular, the scientific aspect of Homeric medicine. There 
can be no reasonable doubt that all the minute descriptions 
given in the Iliad of wounds, thrusts, and contusions were 
listened to by men of Homer s time with a breathless interest. 
Everybody finds them more or less trying now. To know in 
one of these battles just where the man was struck, just how 
far the weapon went, and exactly what was the behaviour 
of the striker and the struck when the blow was given, 
seems of slight interest or of none at all to-day. The 
wonderful thing to us is that there should ever have been a 

1 Malgaigne and Daremberg are at variance here. See Ch. Darem- 
berg, tat de la Mtdecine entre Hom&re et Hippocrate, p. 52. 

2 For an astonishingly unsubstantiated claim that Democedes and the 
medical school of Croton were absolutely outside the domain of Aescu 
lapius and uninfluenced by his worship, see Guardia s La Mtdecine a 
travers les Sibcles. This book would perhaps not be one to mention if 
it had not given the authority of its writer s scholarship to the useless 
theory that in ancient as in modern times there was a recognised conflict 
between "science and religion." A particularly misleading reproduction 
of Guardia s arbitrary and baseless account of the worship of Aesculapius 
and its relation to sound medicine can be found in an essay read before the 
Birmingham Speculative Club by Balthazar W. Foster, M.D., and pub 
lished in 1870. 


popular interest in these slaughterous minutiae of the human 
frame. But, for all that, Homer s careful accuracy is better 
art, and of more enduring interest, than the loose and 
laughable anatomical absurdities, the braggart atrocities so 
frequently admired in chansons de gestes and in various 
utterances of the age of medieval chivalry. The tiresome 
minuteness of Homer has always the merit of accuracy and 
truth. Competent judges in matters medical have pro 
nounced Homer a marvel of clearness and precision. That 
his account should be trustworthy was absolutely required 
by his hearers. They had a personal knowledge in the 
matters whereof he sang, and demanded of him not simply 
such precision as they could attain themselves, but hoped 
no doubt also to glean from his descriptions hints for future 
combat. They knew anatomy chiefly that they might, when 
fighting, put in each blow where it would do the utmost 
harm. They wished to kill rather than to cure ; and yet, 
like the heroes in whose life the poet mirrored their own, 
they had some knowledge of surgery enough to help a 
wounded comrade in danger of his life. 

With the incentive supplied by a breathlessly interested 
audience it is not surprising that Homer, or the Homeric 
bards, should have been extraordinarily painstaking in 
matters anatomical. Among scores of wounds described by 
him, -only seven, it is said, 1 are given so vaguely that the 
skilled anatomist cannot determine very nearly where, and 
in some degree also how serious, a wound is meant. As 
for the defects in Homer s anatomy they are few, and such 
as may more fairly be cloaked with the poet s mantle than 

1 For a competent specialist s account of the facts upon which this 
appreciation of Homeric anatomy, surgery, and medicine is based, see 
Charles Daremberg in the Revue Archeologique for September, October, 
and November, 1865. " Etudes d arche"ologie me dicale sur Homere." 


the shortcomings discoverable in Ariiadis de Gaule, or even 
in our own Spenser s Faery Queene. 

The same detailed knowledge of anatomy which Homer 
possessed, and which was possessed by his most critical 
audiences, is very naturally attributed to his great heroes. 
To be convinced of this, hear Odysseus when a desperate 
situation prompts the thought of suicide. He does not think 
vaguely of self-destruction, he knows the exact and most 
vulnerable spot where he will strike himself ; and it is the 
same when he has the giant Polyphemus in drunken sleep 
before him. You can fancy a warrior of Homer s day 
teaching his son by Odysseus example the duty of knowing 
the human frame in every least detail. You can fancy the 
same anxious father taking the miserable case of Pandarus 
to bring home to his boy the fatal consequences of incom 
petence and inaccuracy. Foolish Pandarus thought that a 
mere shoulder-wound inflicted by his arrow on Diomede 
had killed him, and not brought him merely to a faint. 
Therefore the reappearance of Diomede, after recovery, so 
unmans this ignorant would-be slayer that he loses nerve and 
is slaughtered ignominiously. 

A second and strong impulse to this minute anatomical 
knowledge of Homer s day was, as already said, the need 
of such knowledge to succour a wounded comrade. This 
further involved a rough knowledge of surgical aids and of 
certain simple remedies. A good man of war, a real hero, 
was bound to know the surgery of his day. Rough and 
rudimentary as this was, it involved a knowledge of bandag 
ing, the respectability of which is proved from early pictures 
representing the process. Combined with this heroic surgery 
was a certain familiarity with drugs. Powdered herbs, for 
instance, were used to staunch the flowing blood, and also 


to ease pain. It may in fact be said most truly that the 
reader of Homer, to be ideally qualified, so far as medicine 
is concerned, must know anatomy rather well, should have 
seen some simple processes of surgery, and should know the 
medical properties of several common herbs. 

Thus it gradually grows plain that the anatomy of Homer 
had a very considerable bearing on the subsequent develop 
ment of medicine. To the Homeric infatuation for minutely 
clear accounts of the give and take of sword-thrusts, spear- 
thrusts, arrow-wounds, and of all the awful bruises, fractures, 
and contusions caused by such jagged stones as still cover 
the fields of Greece, modern science owes tools without 
which its early course would have been hampered and its 
vision constantly befogged. The Homeric heroes won 
more than their own victories where they fought and con 
quered with such desperate skill ; they won a victory for us 
as well. They fought strenuously that we might think 
clearly, since a vast proportion of the anatomical terms in 
scientific use to-day are words whose meaning became de 
finite as those heroes grew more skilful in fighting, and 
learned to use their weapons with a deadlier knowledge. 

The chief inheritors of the almost scientific and wholly 
unmiraculous surgery and surgical skill of the Homeric age 
were professional doctors, such as those who competed at 
Aegina and Athens with the skilful Democedes. These 
men, often in the employ of the state, made possible, and 
kept in successful operation, large public establishments 
which really deserved the name of hospitals. 1 

This must be insisted upon, because there is a growing 
danger of calling by the name of hospitals institutions 

1 On this difficult question see Dr. Vercoutre, " La mddecine publique 
dans I antiquite" grecque," in the Revue Archtologique, 1880. 


which, in spite of certain resemblances to hospitals, have a very 
different character the temples of Aesculapius. A sever 
ance, gradually indeed but very early, took place between 
secular and Aesculapian healing. It is not easy to recognise 
this fact, because anciently there never was in any field, 
least of all in the field of ancient medicine, the modern 
antagonism between science and religion. Let those who 
wilfully misinterpret the past in order the more completely 
to misunderstand the present say that this was so because 
science was unscientific, or because religion was an empty 
show. The fact remains that, in spite of the severance 
above-mentioned, the doctors kept in touch with the worship 
of Aesculapius, and the priests in his temples did not 
scorn such secular knowledge as they could gain from lay 

Perhaps the difference in temper between these two 
schools, if the word school may be so far misused, is best 
understood by a backward glance. Let us again apply to 
Homer and forgetting this time that he had facts to deal 
with let us ask him for fancies. In contrast to what I have 
said concerning the definite knowledge implied by the 
Homeric anatomy, there was a fairy-land in the medical 
world of the heroic age, and within its borders ruled a 
spirit which knew not accuracy, and was but faintly and 
distantly acquainted with facts. The two sons of the 
noble leech Aesculapius, named Machaon and Podalirius, 
together with an unspecified number of doctors, not only 
had in a more perfect degree the knowledge of anatomy 
which the Homeric heroes possessed, but also a general 
claim to infallibility was popularly made for them. They 
were, as has been abundantly shown, surrounded by a defer 
ence not shown to ordinary men. A superstitious regard 


for Aesculapius and his two sons allied itself to a child-like 
belief in the existence of miracle-working drugs. These 
drugs were either, like the moly given by Hermes to 
Odysseus, procurable only by an immortal god, or, like 
Helen s Egyptian nepenthe^ they came from some far-off and 
unvisitable place. Just so it was with the miraculous lotus 
blossom. Such too were the herbs of marvellous and 
uncanny effect known to Circe and Medea, who both had 
learned of them from their father Aee tes, to whom the 
knowledge descended from his father the Sun. From 
Paean (who came later to be identified with the Sun and 
Apollo) were descended, so Homer says, the Egyptians, and 
all Egyptians had wonderful knowledge of herbs. Aescu 
lapius himself was, as his worshippers finally agreed, the 
offspring of Apollo, who was Helios, this same Paean, the 
sun-god. One more touch of Homer s must here be men 
tioned. His Aesculapius, although Apollo is his father and 
protector, had Coronis, a mortal maiden, for his mother, 
and had to gain by mortal means his more than mortal 
skill in medicine. This brings us to a whole cycle of early 
legends, touched upon more or less fully by Homer, where 
medicine becomes further involved in the mists of uncertain 
mythology and early superstition. 

The schooling of Aesculapius in medicine was not different 
from that of many other heroes. The master common to 
them all was Chiron, in whose nature the irrepressible bestial 
ity of his fellow-centaurs has been transformed into a wise and 
genial power of sympathy. The gentle Chiron possessed a 
power of insight into nature, was so at one with the hearts 
of men and beasts, that although by nature he was below, 
by knowledge he was above mere human kind. Chiron s 
strange name and nature, half human and half of lower origin, 


may stand as a link between the spirit of man and the useful 
essence of plants, just as the lower animals connect man s 
bodily frame with the shapes of the vegetable kingdom. 1 
Chiron embodied for the Homeric understanding what we 
prefer, after our more abstract fashion, to call the earliest of 
all early stages of medicine. This prehistoric medicine 
consisted of a well-defined though superficial knowledge 
of the human frame, by no means equal to that which may 
fairly be attributed to Odysseus, and of a limited acquaint 
ance with nature s most obvious simples. So far as this 
last point is concerned, Chiron embodied all the knowledge 
of Homeric days, which was by no means incompatible with 
that superstitious belief in the efficacy of certain unpro 
curable roots and herbs of which Homer is full, and the 
like of which survives to-day in various tales of the mad-dog 
stone. This skill of Chiron the centaur in the medicine of 
herbs is medicine reduced to its simplest terms, and in 
this were versed those who bore the greatest names upon 
the Heroic roll of honour Aesculapius and Amphiaraus, 
the Boeotian Aesculapius about whom much has been 
recently discovered at Oropus in Attica, Achilles and 
Theseus, Jason and Aeneas, Castor and Pollux, Nestor and 
Odysseus, Peleus, Telamon, Meleager, and many others. 
Hence it is that all of them are spoken of as pupils of 

The fact that Aesculapius, although under the especial 

1 Just here the distinction, much insisted upon above, stands within 
the danger of confusion and threatens to break down, for Chiron ends by 
representing the reasonable and unmiraculous aspect of early medical lore. 
We find in the fantastic centaur a spirit of serene science and right reason 
which defies every attempt to draw a sharp line dividing the fanciful and 
fairy-like from the positive and practical in Homer s poetical account 
of heroic medicine. Here in a new case we feel the incommunicable 
charm and subtle creative power of Greek fancy. 


favour of the god of healing, was yet classed among the other 
illustrious pupils of Chiron, shows that the Homeric age 
was hardly more appreciative of the divinity of Aesculapius 
than of the divine character and importance of Demeter and 
Dionysus. Aesculapius and his sons are thought of by 
Homer as divinely perfected men leeches whose skill is 
human, though of an excellence all but divine. Plainly this 
Homeric Aesculapius is not the great god of the Thessalian 
Lapithae and Phlegyae. Only an echo of his power and 
helpful kindness reached the early Greeks, sounding through 
the Iliad and the Odyssey. In order that the divine pre 
tensions of Aesculapius might ally themselves to the gentler 
and more human aspect which he wears in Homeric story, 
a radical change was required. All this is brought to pass 
in the story of the birth of the god at Epidaurus, where 
Coronis, a daughter of the Thessalian king Phlegyas, 
brought him to birth. The accident of Phlegyas tem 
porary sojourn in Argolis and Epidaurus, so the Epidaurian 
legend runs, made Aesculapius an Epidaurian; but upon 
this accident his latter-day majesty depends. 

But, before pursuing this Epidaurian theme, let us 
summarise the early course of medicine in Greece. Even 
in Homer s account, where the whole field of medicine is 
small, and where there are no clear subdivisions, certain 
divergent tendencies may be dimly distinguished. There is 
the positive practical tendency, and this is perhaps the pre 
ponderating one. There is also the poetically superstitious 
tendency, which shows itself in tales of marvellous cures by 
Aesculapius and others, of wonderful drugs procured by 
heroes under the especial protection of heaven, and of 
wonderful skill and knowledge possessed and taught by 
Chiron. From the former and more positive tendency 


sprang Greek anatomy and surgery, the medicine of Demo- 
cedes, Hippocrates, and the school that sprang up under the 
shadow of the Coan sanctuary, together with a fair propor 
tion of the sayings and doings of conscientious priests in the 
sanctuaries of Aesculapius scattered over Greece. From the 
less positive and more superstitious aspect of medicine as 
known in early legends, Homeric and others, nothing per 
haps would have come without the help of the Thessalian 
deification of Aesculapius. When the Thessalian cult of 
the god of healing came into contact with the conceptions 
of medicine embodied in the Iliad, it apparently exercised 
little or no influence upon the positive, but absorbed into 
itself the vague and the miraculous. All the wondering 
terror with which Chiron s skill, Circe s sorcery, and Medea s 
knowledge of simples had been regarded was soon garnered 
into the treasure-houses of Aesculapius. His temples 
became centres of miracles, as well as places for the practical 
study of medicine. Of course there was this latter side to 
the worship of Aesculapius, or else Hippocrates would not 
have spoken as he did, and in later days Galen would not 
have had such close commerce with the priests of Aescu 
lapius. Indeed, superstitious as the worship of Aesculapius 
was, the most irrefutable proof that it was neither wholly 
nor intolerably so is the more than toleration of it by the 
most admirable men of Greek and Roman medicine. 

There is one point of view common to the most mar 
vellous of Homer s fairy tales, to the practice of medicine 
by the priests of Aesculapius, and to certain most and 
least approved aspects of modern medical procedure. 
This is the notion of affecting the mind through the body. 
That wonder-working Egyptian drug, Helen s nepenthe, and 
also the fatal flower of the lotus, cast a spell upon the mind. 


In like manner, after the worship of Aesculapius had run 
its course through centuries and reached its final, perhaps 
its most useful, form in the days of Galen and the Antonines, 
this same belief was most vigorous. " It was an age of 
valetudinarians," says a competent authority, "in many 
cases of imaginary ones; but below its various crazes concern 
ing health and disease ... lay a valuable, because partly 
practicable, belief that all the maladies of the soul might be 
reached through the subtle gateways of the body." 1 The 
man who understood drugs was, in Homer s day, and during 
the age of the Antonines, as he is now, a healer of all 
curable illnesses whether of body or mind. Then as now 
power through the body over the mind was attributed to 

The priests of Aesculapius, however, were far from taking 
a materialistic view of the soul. They supplemented the 
notion that an unsound mind can be cured through the 
body by another to which they attached every importance, i.e. 
that the sound mind can and should completely control the 
sound body. The prescriptions of Aesculapius were some 
times given to the purified and expectant sufferer in dreams. 
Often Aesculapius himself appeared in a dream and touched 
the sick ; sometimes a messenger came, a voice as it were 
through the gateways of sleep would tell what herb or what 
treatment was necessary. Sometimes healing came from 
the nocturnal touch of serpents or of dogs sent by the god 
to his suppliants. 

The prescribed process by which the possibility of 
dreaming an inspired dream was attained was one which 

1 Marius the Epicurean, by Walter Pater, M. A., chap. iii. The whole 
of this admirable chapter well repays careful study. I know no other 
adequate modern presentation of the sweetness and sanctity of the service 
of Aesculapius. 


necessarily stilled the mental alarms of the sufferer. His 
condition had to be one of passivity, such as doctors some 
times impose upon those who suffer from nervous prostration. 
Not in a moment of excitement, but during the calm hours 
of unstirred sleep came these divine dreams. They might 
visit men anywhere, but for the most part they came only in 
the hallowed seclusion of the Aesculapian Sanctuary. Since 
all who were at the point of death and of child-birth were 
rigorously excluded, panics and excitements were the less 
possible ; the patient had to conform to the law of purification 
prescribed in the temple, and then to lie down within the 
temple itself or a porch l near by, and within the precinct. 
This process of lying down in the temple for the purpose of 
dreaming gets itself called by a Latin name which means 
literally sleeping in, and we hear much of the practice of 
Incubation in the ancient temples of Aesculapius. Men of 
pious minds resorted to it in order to hatch out dreams 
whereby knowledge of needful remedies came to them. 
The dream was more or less consciously thought of as 
having a being apart, like the dream in the Iliad sent by 
Zeus to Agamemnon, only the dream in the temple of 
Aesculapius came to enlighten, not to deceive. What such 
dreams were supposed by the pious to accomplish is best 
shown by the prayer which Aristides addressed to them. 
" Endue my body," prays the grateful worshipper of dreams, 
" with such measure of health as may suffice it for the obeying 
of the spirit, that I may pass the day unhindered and in quiet 
ness." 2 The body was cured in order that through it the 
spirit might gain self-command and rule the whole man. 

1 The word stoa or portions is strictly required. Neither of these being 
English, I have preferred to stretch the meaning of the word porch. 

2 Mr. Pater s translation. 


I have said that Greek secular medicine sprang from the 
more positive and surgical side of the earliest pursuit of 
medicine. I have also said that all the extravagances and 
miracles believed in from the earliest days centred gradually 
around the worship of Aesculapius. But in fact the line 
between secular and sacred is hardly more easy to draw 
for these later days than for Homeric times. Surgery, of 
all things, ought to have been the exclusive province of the 
secular practitioners, and yet inscriptions 1 found at Epidaurus 
within the precinct of Aesculapius show that operations were 
sometimes performed by the servants of the god and under 
his inspiration, though, to be sure, the particular cases there 
described would appear to have been most unsurgically 
dealt with. On the other hand, if the distinction in question 
is pressed too far, or too sharply drawn, a secular practitioner 
like Herophilus ought to have been quite free from the 
Homeric point of view about the superhuman efficacy of 
drugs. And yet this Herophilus, a celebrated physician 
who flourished during the first years of the third century 
B.C., speaks of all medicines as gifts from the gods, and calls 
them, when rightly used, "the hands of the gods." * This 
appeal to the healing hands of the gods in everyday 
practice is a beautifully enlightened modification of Homer s 

1 The best concise account of these inscriptions known to me is Dr. Mer- 
riam s referred to below. Their discovery and elucidation is one of the first 
of the useful achievements of the distinguished M. Kabbadias, Ephor-in- 
chief of Antiquities. Strabo speaks of them, and adds that similar ones 
were to be found at Cos and Tricca : i. e. inscriptions that give record of 
the manner of each cure, VIII. vi. 16, p. 375. 

- See the first sentence of the dedication addressed by Scribonius 
Largus to Caius Julius Callistus. Compare the use of this quotation by 
Erasmus in his ingenious comparison of the Gospel of St. Luke to a healing 
medicine. This is in the dedication of his paraphrase of that Gospel, and 
contrast the sense attached to an analogous expression in the Philoctetes of 
Sophocles : speaking of Philoctetes writhing with pain, the chorus cries out 
w TraXd/icu deuv (177). 


notion that the root moly could only be digged from its 
secret hiding place by a god. And indeed this utterance 
of Herophilus was quite in agreement with the view of 
Hippocrates, who said long before the day of Herophilus, 
with reference to divine intervention and healing, " Medicine 
inclines to do honour to the gods as concerning symptoms 
or sickness, and doctors give way before them, since medical 
lore has no superabundance of power." * 

And yet this harmony between science and religion, this 
pious deference of physicians to the god of physic and their 
respect for the miracles worked in his name, left a difficult 
question for the decision of laymen. When should there 
be appeal to the god and his divine skill, and when should 
the counsel of human doctors be resorted to ? The doctrine 
of Socrates may well be taken to represent the mind of the 
most enlightened men. " Seek as far as you may to help 
yourself before asking the gods for help and counsel." This 
was the view of Socrates about consulting oracles in general, 
and no doubt he would have applied it to the most 
primitive and wide - spread of all Greek ways of consult 
ing oracles, the dreaming of dreams in the sanctuary of 
Aesculapius, as well as to other appeals to Aesculapian skill. 
"Exhaust human skill and resource before appealing to 
the god," he would have said. Theoretically this view of 

1 See the sixth paragraph of the treatise on professional honour (jrepl 
tvff-XyfJ-offtivqs}. This treatise is by some considered, though on purely 
negative grounds, of doubtful authorship. I am convinced with Darem- 
berg that it is by Hippocrates ; some doctor certainly wrote it, and 
it certainly represents a typical point of view. This spirit of pious de 
ference to divine power is by no means confined to one treatise of 
Hippocrates. There is a solitary quotation upon which the ingenious 
Wilamovitz - Moellendorf founds his otherwise baseless assertion that 
Hippocrates was free from any belief in Aesculapius. The passage occurs 
in the treatise on airs, waters, and climates, and is a protest against a 
gross Scythian superstition. Moellendorf s very strained reading of it can 
be refuted by other undoubted sayings of Hippocrates. 


duty was above reproach, but practice was another matter. 
Many motives led the faithful to consult Aesculapius more 
frequently than this principle, strictly adhered to, would 
allow ; and among them the most decisive one was his 
approachability. A feeling of familar comradeship was 
inspired in all his worshippers by Aesculapius, and in this 
Socrates certainly shared, since his dying words were : "Crito, 
we owe a cock to Aesculapius." The meaning of this 
solemnly smiling farewell of Socrates would seem to be that 
to Aesculapius, a god who always is prescribing potions and 
whose power is manifest in their effects, was due that 
most welcome and sovereign remedy which cured all the 
pains and ended all the woes of Socrates the hemlock, 
which cured him of life which is death, and gave him the 
glorious realities of hereafter. For this great boon of 
awakening into real life Socrates owed Aesculapius a thank- 
offering. This offering of a cock to Aesculapius was 
plainly intended for him as the awakener of the dead to 
life everlasting. 

In the story which makes Aesculapius incur the wrath of 
Zeus in order to recall to life one who was dead, and further, 
in the minds of all worshippers, this god standing before 
Zeus as divine yet also human is, like Prometheus, a loving 
and indulgent friend of man even when other deities frown. 
Apollo intercedes for him with angered Zeus much as he 
might for a man. Something of the mortality attributed to 
him in the Homeric poems, a half- humanity, clung to 
Aesculapius throughout antiquity; and the latter Greeks 
never quite banished from their worship of this god the 
notion that he was a hero or demigod only. How natural 
it was in Athens to think of a healing power under this 
aspect is shown by the dim knowledge that we have of an 


Athenian temple dedicated, not to Aesculapius, but to the 
" Hero physician." Even after his full divinity came into 
general recognition, therefore, Aesculapius bore marks of 
his previous condition. He was worshipped and besought 
not always under the name of a god, but most frequently 
under the designation, familiar to Christian ears, of the 
Son of God. Filius dei was in fact the habitual and un 
qualified manner of addressing Aesculapius in his temples 
at Rome. Partly human of birth, he was wholly so in 
sympathy ; but, in his perfect power to help and heal, he 
was divine. 

This halo of humanity, if the expression be allowed, 
was worn by Aesculapius with all the better grace because 
he was by no means foremost in the Olympian hierarchy 
since our minds condemn us to talk of a hierarchy when 
there was none. The god of healing, with all his train of 
abundant divinities, Health, Panacea, Convalescence (Teles- 
phorus), and the many others, kindly presences all of them, 
called into being solely to ease men s pain, may be thought 
of as dwelling somewhere midway between the gods above 
and men below. There they dwelt in order perhaps to 
be near at hand when the calamities of men required their 
instant aid. So human were the beginnings of Aesculapius 
that he depended upon the power and presence in Olympus 
of Apollo his father. Just as we may imagine, if we 
choose, that Aesculapius was the vicar of Apollo on earth 
to represent him at the Eleusinian Mysteries, so we know 
that Apollo was the heavenly presence whose Olympian 
power sustained and increased the divine efficacy of all the 
works of his son Aesculapius. The words filius dei apply 
to Aesculapius as the son of Apollo the god. 

" Save me, and heal my grievous gout, O blessed and 


most mighty presence, I adjure thee by thy father, to whom 
I loudly pray." Such is the prayer addressed to Aesculapius, 
"Son of Leto s son," by Diophantus, an attendant at his 
shrine, which has been lately uncovered on the southern 
slope of the Athenian Acropolis. This inscribed prayer is 
that of Diophantus born in the Athenian township of 
Sphettus. Its faults are many in versification, and it lacks 
poetic delicacy of phrase, but still Diophantus having been 
an attendant in the Athenian temple of Aesculapius it pre 
serves for us an official view of the relation between 
Aesculapius the divine son and the divine father Apollo. 
In their eyes a prayer to Aesculapius was also a prayer 
to Apollo, and the god of healing was thought of by them 
as a pitiful and indulgent mediator between man and 
the Holiest and Mightiest. " No one of mortals," Diophantus 
continues in this same inscription, " can give a surcease from 
such pangs. Thou alone, divinely blessed one, hast the 
power ; for the supreme gods bestowed on thee, all pitying 
one, a rich gift for mortals. Thou art their appointed 
deliverer from pain." 1 Thus Aesculapius was not mortal 
though he was under inspiration from above he was the 
well-beloved saviour from suffering, the comforter sent by 

A curiously close relation between Apollo the father and 
the son Aesculapius is shown by the Apolline epithet Paean 

1 See in the May number of Gaillard s Medical Journal (vol. xi. No. 5), 
published in New York, an article on " Aesculapia as revealed by In 
scriptions," recast from a paper read before the New York Academy of 
Medicine, igth March 1885, by Augustus C. Merriam, A.M., Ph.D. 
Professor Merriam has there given the most concise account of all the 
facts bearing upon the worship of Aesculapius at Athens and at Epidaurus, 
and his account of the inscriptions is not only exhaustive but most enter 
taining. He also gives abundant references to more detailed accounts of 
the matter in hand. 


which this same Diophantus bestows upon Aesculapius in 
his record, made in the same place, of thanks for recovery. 
He thanks " Paean Aesculapius," to whose skill he attri 
butes his deliverance. This consummation devoutly to be 
desired was promised him by Aesculapius, who appeared in 
a dream. This whole episode in Diophantus life is a most 
authentic and imperishable record, kept upon stone, of the 
mediating and human divinity of Aesculapius, who trans 
mitted the kindly will of Apollo to suffering men, and lent 
them the means of grace. It may truly be said of this god 
of healing that he and his father are one, for even the 
dreams wherein Aesculapius himself appeared and wrought 
cure were addressed as the " children of Apollo." " Oh, ye 
children of Apollo, who in times past have stilled the waves 
of sorrow for many people, and lighted up a lamp of safety 
before those who travel by sea and land, be pleased in your 
great condescension ... to accept this prayer . . ." l So 
opens the collect of Aristides already alluded to. The 
final source of power is Apollo; and the accomplishment 
of cure, no matter what natural means and medicines are 
employed, is at the bidding of Aesculapius, whose loving- 
kindness miraculously brings healing. Often, therefore, he 
was looked upon as a patron saint might be. He was a 
mediator and an elder brother a being close to the divinity, 
with whom the worshipper need not always be on terms of 
the most ceremonious observance. 

This nearness to man involved what we might call 
humility in some sort, or self-subordination in regard to the 
other gods ; but both of these terms are far too exclusively 
modern to be used very strictly of any Greek divinity. 
Aesculapius was not a jealous god, and when his holy pre- 

1 Mr. Pater s translation. 


cinct was set apart near to the ancient places of worship 
sacred to other and older gods, there was not room perhaps 
for showing him all due honour. Therefore Aesculapius, 
more than most of the gods in Greece, required for his 
cult a district all his own a country sacred to him, where 
his worship should be the centre of religious and also of 
social life. Such a country, dedicated to his worship, was 
the district of Epidaurus. 

On the eastern coast of Argolis, full in view from the 
islands of Salamis and Aegina, over against Athens and the 
Piraeus, lies the town of Epidaurus, with the volcanic and 
picturesque peninsula of Methana just to the south of it, 
beyond a fertile seaward plain. This plain and the 
mountain heights beyond it form the district of Epidaurus. 
In the town itself were minor sanctuaries of the god not 
only a temple for himself, but one for his wife, Gentleheart 
or Epione they called her ; but beyond this name, and the 
existence of her Epidaurian temple, which disappeared with 
the town of Epidaurus, little more is known about her. 
Fortunately it is otherwise with the great centre of all 
Aesculapian worship in antiquity the Epidaurian Hieron 
or Holy ground. This lies higher up and farther inland 
than the town of Epione s shrine. From this Hieron of 
Epidaurus went forth to the east and west those who 
established the great centres of Aesculapian worship else 
where. They claimed to have founded the Coan * temple, 
near which Hippocrates was born, and the sanctuary sacred 

1 Some sort of Aesculapian worship at Cos, of an earlier date than any 
possible foundation from Epidaurus, must be allowed. Indeed, success 
and pre-eminence at a comparatively late date probably made the Epi- 
daurians claim to have founded various temples quite as old as their own. 
The Eleusinians certainly claimed the same sort of precedence over 
Peloponnesian shrines of less note than theirs, but of equal or greater 


to Aesculapius on the island in the Tiber at Rome certainly 
derived from them. 

Suppose we have landed at ancient Epidaurus and are 
bound for this beautiful upland health resort. First our 
course lies southward till, at half a mile s distance, the 
inland road turns to cross the fertile but narrow Epidaurian 
plain, which is about a quarter of a mile in width. The way 
then follows a mountain torrent for a time, and goes inland 
two miles and more. Here at a crossways the pilgrim to 
the shrine of Aesculapius leaves the high road to ascend the 
side and cross the shoulder of Mount Titthion. Two 
downward miles, and you are at last on consecrated ground. 
A semicircle of gentle and, for those parts, well-wooded 
slopes hems in the Hieron to the northward, the southward, 
and the eastward, while towards the north-west the valley 
leans downward into a wider valley, through which extends 
the carriage-road that goes to Nauplia. 1 

The Epidaurian birth-legend of Aesculapius has already 
been alluded to. When her father, the Thessalian King 
Phlegyas, visited Epidaurus to spy out the land with a view 
to conquest, Coronis was with him. She, fearing discovery by 
him when her time came, caused the new-born babe Aescu 
lapius, her son by Apollo, to be exposed on the upland slopes 
of Mount Titthion. The existence of this babe remained 
unknown of Phlegyas, and would perhaps long have been 
unheard of, had it not been for what befell a mountain- 
ranging shepherd, just when the babe was exposed. This 
shepherd missed a faithful dog and also one of his flock. 
Aresthanas for such was the shepherd s name hastened 
to make thorough search, and after wandering through 
many mountain places, found the missing goat giving 

1 The usual approach is by this excellent road. 


sustenance to a new-born babe, while the faithful dog was 
keeping careful guard over the two. To commemorate 
this beautiful and miraculous episode the name of that 
mountain became Titthion the mountain of the nursing- 

When Aresthanas sought to lift up the babe a great light 
streamed from it, as it were the flash of lightning. This 
was a sign from Heaven ; therefore he left the infant god 
where he had found him, not lifting him up nor bearing 
him away. Soon the fame of this and other wonders that 
followed it was noised abroad over land and sea, and people 
knew that the infant Aesculapius was skilled in all manner 
of devices for the sick, and most wonderful of all people 
were made aware that in him was the miraculous power to 
raise from the dead whomsoever he would. 

This later story just given from Pausanias is very 
different from Pindar s earlier one. When Pindar wrote, 
Aesculapius had not yet definitely changed his abode, and 
was still sometimes thought of as living in Thessaly. The 
general course of events, as well as the names Phlegyas and 
Coronis, are common to both stories, and prove them to be 
one; but on the whole the earlier 1 one Pindar s, which 
knows not Epidaurus but unfolds itself in Thessaly is the 
more tragical. There was on the part of Coronis, whom Apollo 
had wedded, a faithlessness so flagrant that it brought her 
destruction. The righteous indignation of Apollo, whose 
sister Artemis slew the guilty maid, made him forget the child 
that was to be, until Coronis, not yet a mother though a 
guilty spouse, lay stretched upon the flaming funeral pyre. 

1 See the XVIth Homeric Hymn, where the Dotian plain of Thessaly is 
given as Aesculapius birthplace. " To Asclepios, healer of sickness, 
begins my song ; to Apollo s son, whom heavenly Coronis bare on the 
Dotian plain, and she was Phlegyas daughter." 


Snatched from the flames, Aesculapius is given to the care 
of Chiron, of whom he learns the art of healing. Pindar s 
tale keeps Aesculapius near to Tricca, his most ancient and 
original place of worship, not far from Pyrasus, the earliest 
and Thessalian abode of Demeter. Homer s account of 
Aesculapius differs from both of the above legends in its 
more matter-of-fact tone. The miracles are fewer in Homer s 
version, but he agrees with Pindar in making Thessaly the 
birthplace of the god. As before insisted upon, Homer s 
Aesculapius was scarcely a god he was the hero who 
came to parry and make unavailing the thrusts of all 
manner of diseases. 

Turning now from the god Aesculapius to his chief 
dwelling place, from mythology to archaeology, let us go up 
to his holy place in the valley overlooked by his Epidaurian 
birthplace Mount Titthion, and also by Mount Cynortion, 
sacred from of old to his father Apollo. Once arrived 
there, we cannot fail to notice the health-giving purity of 
the air and a kindly cheerful smile that meets us in the 
landscape. But soon the most surprising, the only surpris 
ing, feature in the landscape lays hold upon the eye and 
engrosses the mind the theatre of Polycletus. Many ancient 
theatres have been excavated in Greece, in Greater Greece, 
and Grecian Asia Minor, but the Epidaurian theatre is the 
most perfectly preserved and the most beautiful of them all. 
This theatre of Dionysus, and also the exquisite and unique 
Rotunda, which lies within the sacred enclosure of Aescu 
lapius, are architectural masterpieces by Polycletus, a native 
of Argolis, where Epidaurus lies. Although there were 
two artists of this name, the elder and the younger, and 
there has consequently been a discussion of the point, the 
theatre and the Rotunda at Epidaurus are now generally 


credited to the younger Polycletus. Of the Rotunda I shall 
presently speak. Of the theatre Pausanias declares his high 
opinion: "Roman theatres may be finer," he says, "and 
those of latter-day Greece may be larger, but still the Epi- 
daurian masterpiece of Polycletus is peerless for harmony 
of proportion and charm of aspect." l 

From various sources, but chiefly from the minute pains 
given to results of excavation at Epidaurus and Athens, it 
appears that certain features characterised any and every 
precinct of Aesculapius in the days when his worship was 
finally organised. First a small temple for the god himself 
to dwell in was required. Aesculapius was too generously 
scrupulous about any curtailment of comfort for the sick 
who resorted to him ever to require a large temple for 
himself. In this modest building was the statue of the 
god, and there were hung or disposed in some satisfactory 
way the smaller and more valuable votive offerings made to 
him by grateful convalescents. The one thing needful was 
room for long and commodious porches with the right 

1 It was not accident which grouped together on the Athenian Acropolis 
as well as in the Hieron at Epidaurus the temple of Aesculapius and the 
theatre of Dionysus. Convenience certainly had something to do with it, 
and at Athens the comfort of the sick required just the exposure of the 
theatre. Moreover, the inspiration and amusement afforded to invalids 
by ready access to theatrical performances were numbered among their 
curative resources by the priests of Aesculapius. The well-known case of 
Aristides leaves no doubt on this point. Still, beyond these more prosaic 
reasons religious ones might be assigned. Aesculapius and Dionysus 
were associated in ritual by their connection with the Greater Mysteries at 
Eleusis. Their common origin in the northward regions of Thessaly and 
Thrace left its mark in certain touches common to the legends of their 
birth. There was, furthermore, a part assigned to the god Aesculapius in 
the festivals of Dionysus. What this was can only be guessed. Perhaps 
it may have connection with a need for Aesculapius, the upraiser of the 
dead to life ; for Dionysus, typifying by his yearly death the winter of each 
year, had to be quickened every spring, and thus could profit by the near 
presence of the healing god, the well-beloved son of his brother and ally, 


exposure. In these the wards of Aesculapius were housed. 
There and in the temple too they slept, awaiting visits of 
healing from the inspired dreams. 

This feature is more clearly made out in the precinct at 
Epidaurus than in the Athenian sanctuary, though both of 
them certainly were amply provided with such accommoda 
tion for patients. The capitals of the Epidaurian porches 1 
were Ionic, those at Athens seem to have been Doric. The 
Epidaurian porch was upwards of 120 feet long. The 
length of the porches at Athens is not easy to make out, 
since there appear to have been different buildings at 
different times. The long porch at Epidaurus was really 
two and not one. Though the two unite into one con 
tinuous stretch, one has a lower story which is absent from 
the other. This is largely due to a clever use of the natural 
slope of the ground. Both at Athens and at Epidaurus the 
god could, for the purpose of visitation by night, emerge 
from his temple and immediately find his expectant sup 
pliants sleeping in the porch close by. 

The temple at Athens has not been clearly made out. 
There seem to have been two temples not now easy to 
disentangle and attribute rightly to the right period for the 
building of each. Both were small ; of that little we may 
be perfectly sure. The temple at Epidaurus was about 
eighty feet long and upwards of forty feet in width. It was 
of the Doric order, and fine fragments of its sculptured 
ornamentations are preserved in the museum, a farm-house 
close to the theatre of Dionysus. There was apparently a 
very fine frieze of lions heads upon it, much like the one 
which we shall find upon the Rotunda near by. The 

1 Here again I am using the word porch to describe a stoa or porticus ; 
in fact I plead guilty to doing this throughout this chapter and elsewhere. 


eastern pediment contained a group representing the defeat 
of the Amazons, while the western pediment was filled by 
sculptures representing a Thessalian tale of the victory in 
Thessaly by the Lapithae (near friends of Thessalian 
Phlegyas) over the Centaurs. The three angles of the 
gables were surmounted by delicate statues of victory, 
whose more or less marred remains are visible now in the 
Central Museum at Athens. Within was the great statue of 
all-pitying Aesculapius wrought in ivory and gold by Thrasy- 
medes. Of this statue coins were the only record until the 
beautiful bas-reliefs of Epidaurus came to light. 1 His brow, 
like that of Zeus, has all the serenity and unfathomable 
peace that glows upon the noonday firmament in cloudless 
summer time. There is no trace here of sternness ; all that 
the face of Aesculapius discloses well behooves the gentle- 
hearted husband of (Epione) Gentleheart. Aesculapius sits 
not too majestic in benign repose. One upraised leg is 
resting on the other, and he gazes with eyes overflowing 
with health-giving wisdom not far away, and not upward 
but forward as if kindly to entreat with welcome all those 
who suffer and are heavy laden. To him let them confide 
their woes, on him let them lay their burdens of suffering 
and their forebodings of despair. He sits calm and most 
divinely competent to counsel and to guide. This attitude 
of reposeful capability was given to the god of healing on 
many a tablet inscribed with grateful names, and bearing on 
its sculptured surface a picture of the god at the moment 
when offerings and supplications were made to him. Many 
such have been found at Athens, and these votive bas-reliefs 
form some of the most interesting features in the too little 

1 See Brunn s beautiful photograph of the best of the two, Denkmiiler 
der ant i ken Kunst. 


frequented chamber on the Acropolis, which is devoted to 
fragments from the Asclepieium at Athens. 

With the exception of the Rotunda, a temple of Artemis 
near the entrance was the only other important building in 
the Epidaurian precinct. Dogs heads, which took the place 
of the lions heads conspicuous on the temple of Aesculapius 
and the invalids porch, ornamented the frieze of this temple 
of Apollo s twin sister. This interesting detail suggests that 
Artemis was here worshipped as huntress or, if you choose, 
as mistress of the hounds. The temple of the god Aescu 
lapius being small, that of Artemis was smaller still ; and as 
little is known of it in detail, we may with a clear conscience 
neglect it in order to devote attention to the most marvellous 
building of them all the Rotunda or Tholos of the younger 

This remarkable structure was famous throughout anti 
quity, for it was one of the most perfect examples of the 
graceful and efflorescent style which came into favour after 
the day of severely perfect architecture and sculpture. Its 
round shape invited flowery ornament, and the genius of 
the younger Polycletus showed itself here at its best. A 
new delicacy and life was given to traditional forms of 
ornamentation. They left the hand of Polycletus so 
quickened and transformed that they seem to have come 
to him fresh from the flowering meadows. He took the 
massive Doric column and lent to it for his purpose a deli 
cate outline, while he preserved the significance and charm 
of modulated curves in its capital. Such was the external 
circle of columns which he placed upon triple steps of 
ascent. Thus we have a less massive seeming basement 
than the three steps of the stylobate of the Parthenon, three 
concentric circles, two within and one at the outermost 


verge. Footed upon the innermost round of this triple 
support a circle of twenty-six Doric columns arose to bear 
the most beautiful of burdens an entablature composed of 
three harmonious parts. First, and resting directly upon 
the columns, came the architrave a smooth marble beam 
running without interruption around the whole circum 
ference. Resting upon this was the frieze, a very broad 
band of alternating rosettes and triglyphs. The triple 
vertical line in the triglyph framed most exquisitely the 
square slabs, each bearing a central rosette. Rosettes have 
been found on Mycenae vases, and are generally said to be 
an inheritance from Assyria; they appear on Egyptian 
monuments of the eighteenth dynasty. Still, in the hands 
of the younger Polycletus, they appear as something new. 
They seem to have been gathered by him from the fields of 
Greece in the loveliest meadows of spring. There they still 
grow to-day, and begem the tanglewood on every sheltered 
slope with dots of pure and incandescent red. The shapely 
form of that bright red anemone was commonly set upon 
memorial slabs above funereal inscriptions, and now we find 
it idealised and complicated but still the same simple flower- 
form taken to be the heart and essence of the frieze in 
Polycletus entablature. The third and crowning portion 
of it, the last perfection surmounting this most exquisite of 
buildings, was its cornice. This was a band with beautifully 
sculptured lions heads surmounted by acroteria, which in 
this case are flower-like points surmounting graceful leaf-like 

Pass now between the Doric columns on the eastward 
side where the doorway opened towards the temple of 
Aesculapius. There the door pierces the cella-wall, and 
beyond is the interior. The roof within was supported by 


fourteen of the most exquisite Corinthian columns that the 
mind of man has ever dreamt of. From the same meadows 
where grew the red anemones Polycletus took the delicate 
daisy I have seen just such growing profusely upon the 
battle-field of Marathon l and set it upon his capital above 
the acanthus leaf. The curving tendrils, not too profusely 
clustering around the summit of the column, seem with 
gladsome upward swing to tempt the eye still on until the 
delicate daisy crowns this creation woven together out of 
the graceful spirit of grasses that wave in the field, of 
tendrils that cling, and of flowers that bloom by the way 
side. Here is the earliest existing and the best of all known 
Corinthian capitals. 2 

When the delicate grace of these exquisite architectural 
blossoms gathered itself into final form before his mind, 
Polycletus, the great architect, knew perhaps that Pausias 3 
was to decorate the circle of its walls with paintings. Com 
bining, perhaps for the first time, two great discoveries, 
perspective and encaustic, which were partly his, Pausias 
decorated the interior curves of the Rotunda with beautiful 

1 See a most beautiful photograph of it taken by Mr. Elsey-Smith and 
published by the Hellenic Society. A very beautiful enlargement of this 
is most opportunely published in the Proceedings of the Royal Institute of 
British Architects, vol. vi. New Series, 1890. 

2 Of this, Mr. Francis C. Penrose writes, see p. 67 of the Proceedings re 
ferred to in the preceding note. " To me the cap from Epidaurus is extremely 
interesting, because it is very similar to the capitals of the columns of the 
temple of Jupiter Olympius at Athens a temple to which I have paid 
much attention. The forms of the leaves of the two examples greatly re 
semble one another, and the ornaments, namely, both the central flower 
and that figure somewhat resembling a fleur-de-lis which occupies the 
corner of the volute, have their counterparts in the central flowers of the 
caps of the Athenian temple, and thoroughly confirm my opinion that 
the columns of the latter are Greek and not Roman work." 

3 Not Pausias but Pauson is unfavourably compared by Aristotle with 
Polygnotus. His influence was the less pure because of his preoccupation 
with technical matters, partly too because of the subjects which he chose. 


pictures. One represented Eros, whose weapons were flung 
away, while he grasped a lyre upon which he discoursed 
sweet music ; another, of less high inspiration but most 
celebrated for its technique, was his allegorical figure of 
Methe or drunkenness. Like Benozzo Gozzoli, Pausias 
excelled in the painting of children, little boys especially, 
and none could rival his painting of flowers. Polycletus 
had already framed this building out of the glowing shapeli 
ness of anemones and the delicate loveliness of the pale 
and golden daisies of the fields. Pausias, in the chaplet of 
Eros, no doubt justified the words used of his skill by 
Pliny, who says that " he brought the much practised art of 
painting flower-garlands to the climax of harmonious varie 
gation." Here then was the gist of his flower-like building 
in a boy embowered with blossoms, who was in act of 
choosing the better part music instead of mischief-making 
arrows. The lyre is better far, since music charms the 
highest, the deepest, and the inmost soul, and therefore 
best symbolises Eros, the awakener of unstinting and ex- 
haustless love. 

But we have not exhausted the wonders of the Tholos. 
The very centre of its beautifully tesselated floor had a 
downward exit. Here was most artfully constructed a 
labyrinth, traceable still in all its windings. These made it 
necessary to pass forwards and backwards, going three times 
completely around the circle before the lower door of the 
exit could be reached. The use of this subterranean 
labyrinth is no easier to make out than that of the whole 
building. Some think the harmless snakes sacred to 
Aesculapius had quarters here, and issued hence to play 
their part in healing visions. But this is pure conjecture, 
as is also the suggestion that the Tholos was built around 


a well or a spring whose healing waters have wholly dis 

Here is no room for speaking of the part in miraculous 
cures played at Epidaurus by the venomless serpents which 
still abound in those parts, and are made very prominent by 
Aristophanes in his famous burlesque account of a night in the 
Athenian sanctuary of Aesculapius. We cannot enter here 
into the history of the serpent impostures practised by that 
arch-mountebank Alexander of Abonotichus. The considera 
tion of all the miracles commemorated by inscriptions at 
Epidaurus, and of the trial which they were to the faith of 
pious believers, would be too long. The distinction between 
Roman and Greek Aesculapia, as well as the whole question 
of the relation between sound practice and that of the priests 
of Aesculapius, of Serapis, 1 and of a host of divinities who 
sprang up in the latter days of paganism to cure all diseases, 
must be left without discussion here. It is sufficient to know 
that men of reasonable minds continued even in later days to 
resort to the various shrines of healing, and frequently found 
restoration and consolation by that means. 

Pain of whatsoever kind moved the benign hero-physician, 
the divine Aesculapius. His aid therefore was granted to 
all those needing it if they only could receive it. The 
possibility of receiving it depended in one sense not upon 

1 Egypt, from which it is supposed many features of the earliest worship 
of Aesculapius were borrowed, sent forth in later times the healing god 
Serapis, a powerful rival to Aesculapius. How closely his original Egyptian 
character clung to Serapis even in his shrine at Delos may be gathered from 
an absurd story preserved by Aelian. We are told that Serapis granted 
the restoration of an eye to a horse who was brought in distress to his 
temple. The horse was of course a thoroughbred, and naturally made his 
appearance in the temple with thankofferings. This last touch recalls the 
sayings and doings of the deathless steeds of Achilles, and the whole 
episode, like the Homeric account of the wounding and fall of Nestor s 
horse, is based upon a commiseration for suffering beasts which finds ex 
pression in modern times more substantially but less poetically. 


him at all but solely on them. They had to have faith, 
and such faith that it blossomed into purity. The pre 
liminary laving, usually in sea -water, required before 
entering the porch to await the coming of inspired dreams, 
symbolised outwardly the inner obedience of the faithful to 
a command inscribed, as we well know, upon the doorway 
of entrance to the Epidaurian sanctuary 

" None but the pure shall enter here." 

I have used the word faith because, in addition to purity, 
there was a deeper tie involved, a personal compatibility 
between the suppliant and the divinity supplicated : to be 
healed by the god it was needful to be pleasing in his eyes, 
otherwise he failed to appear. 

Here was a religious idea capable of many abuses, but 
useful and right for controlling the self-indulgent who stood 
between themselves and health. An especial oracle from 
the god could not intervene at every meal prescribing each 
disobedient patient s meat and drink. For this duty as well 
as for an example some one especially accredited by the 
favour of the god and qualified by the rigour of his own 
life was needed. Such a divinely chosen guide for the 
weak and erring was young Apollonius of Tyana, 1 during 
his monastic seclusion in the temple of Aesculapius at 
Aegae. He was especially called to the Pythagorean life 
and discipline, his revival of which begins with his recourse 
to Aesculapius and his rejection of the teachings of Epi 
curus. " Wouldst thou but talk with Apollonius, thy relief 
is sure," said the oracle at Aegae to an unruly and self- 
indulgent youth whose much eating and drinking prevented 
his cure. 

1 See Appendix IV. 


This idea of the necessity of some one whose life should 
be purity incarnate, and who should intercede with Aescu 
lapius (himself thought of in Homeric days as an inter 
cessor), became more prominent, and one of the very last 
glimpses given us of the persistent worship of Aesculapius 
upon the Athenian Acropolis is in the life of Proclus, of 
whom we hear as one of those holy men whose intervention 
was all-powerful with the god of healing. 

Thus as we bid farewell to Aesculapius he seems himself 
in act of bidding farewell to earth and is withdrawing him 
self from men to the far-off dwellings of the careless 
Olympian gods. 


THIS Tyanaean master of miracles attached his teachings 
and his philosophy to Pythagoras a name to conjure by 
and his miracles received a certain divine sanction from his 
acceptableness in the eyes of Aesculapius. In his early 
youth, at the age of sixteen, a sort of inner light irresistibly 
prompted him to leave Tarsus and his first master who was 
an Epicurean, and to resort to the temple of Aesculapius 
at Aegae, a Cilician town not far away. Neither Tarsus 
nor Aegae in fact was very far from Tyana of Cappadocia, 
his birthplace. During four years Apollonius lived in a 
monastic seclusion at Aegae, increasing in stature and in 
favour with the god, loving with unspeakable love and 
strictly living the ascetic Pythagorean life. An account of 
these years was written by his contemporary, probably also 
a sharer in his life of self-denial and self-devotion, 
Maximus of Aegae. 

The more adventurous and most miraculous career of 
Apollonius upon his travels, and during his trial, was 
chronicled in rough notes by his companion Damis the 
Ninivite, a remarkably credulous person, who seems in 
vented for the purpose of believing more than the utter 
most possible. The Grammar of this Ninivite s Assent in 
deed makes exceptions into rules, and leaves nothing that 
can surprise except the normal and natural course of events. 


A third account of Apollonius was written contemporarily 
by Moeragenes. Possibly this was the same Moeragenes 
who figures as ah Athenian elsewhere, 1 but whoever he 
was, he wrote in four books a life of Apollonius of Tyana. 
These four books of Moeragenes were read 2 by that great 
champion of Christianity against Paganism, Origen, and his 
estimate of the Tyanaean ascetic and worker of miracles 
was evidently derived from them. 

So far I have named writers on the career of Apollonius 
whose books have perished. The book which has not 
perished is that of a fourth biographer who, unlike 
Maximus, Damis, and Moeragenes, was not a contem 
porary. His name was Philostratus, and he has most aptly 
been called "Romancer -in -ordinary" 3 to her Imperial 
Majesty Julia Domna. When he had culled marvellous 
incidents from Maximus, and gathered in romantic ad 
ventures and incredible miracles from Damis, Philostratus 
found the narrative of Moeragenes full of wonders though 
it apparently was too tame, and therefore, choosing to think 
that it betrayed ignorance of his hero, he neglected the 
best material at hand. 4 In place of this he added to what 
was already untrustworthy popular rumours and traditional 
records of miracles a mass of mythology which had 
gathered around Apollonius during the century separating 
his death from the day of Philostratus and his protectress, 
the Empress Julia. Among these tales were no doubt 
many, if not all, of the features which Philostratus work has 
in common with the four Gospels and the career of St. 
Paul as set forth in the Acts of the Apostles. That nothing 
might be lacking, Philostratus contrived to use in one way 
or another various favourite passages of his borrowed from 

1 Pseudo- Plutarch, Quaest. Conv. book iv. end. It is to be hoped that 
he is no kinsman of the bandit Moeragenes who ranged the Taurus a few 
generations before. Cf. Cic. Ad Att. v. 15 and vi. i. 

2 Origen, Con. Cels. vi. 41. 

3 Essays and Studies, by B. L. Gildersleeve. 

4 E. Miiller, Eine culturhistorische Untersuchung. 


Xenophon, 1 an author upon whom he formed his style, 
and to adorn the already overloaded travellers tales of 
Damis with elegant extracts from such records of history 
and travel as were accessible to him. He is evidently 
indebted here and there to Lucian s True Story, a charming 
caricature of the marvellous-absurd yarns which had so long 
a vogue at Rome. The way in which this last indebtedness 
is contracted abundantly convicts Philostratus of an utter 
lack of humour. Indeed this weakness is the pith and 
marrow of the whole biography, as may most agreeably be 
revealed to readers of the delightfully humorous summary 
of the work given by Professor Gildersleeve in his essay on 
" Apollonius of Tyana." 

Philostratus was not called to the office of writing the 
" Evangel of Apollonius " by an inner light, as Apollonius 
was to the Pythagorean way of living. The first suggestion 
of it came from the Empress Julia Domna, to whose re 
markable literary circle Philostratus belonged. We know 
just enough of this circle to see that it contained many 
cleverer people than Philostratus, and it seems, from admis 
sions in his preface to the book, that Philostratus wrote, 
or if you choose compiled, the life of Apollonius with a 
hampering desire to suit the tastes of this coterie. There 
was Moesa, Julia s sister, a particularly domineering person, 
as history was soon to show ; and Moesa had two daughters 
who well knew their own minds. Supposing these ladies 
interested in having some one write an ideal presentation of 
the life of Apollonius, to whom could they turn ? They 
might think of their legal friend Ulpian, like themselves of 
Phoenician descent, but he was out of the question ; nor 
could they expect literary skill of Papinian, as they well 
knew, since he was a kinsman of theirs. Of their circle, 
however, were Aelian the honey-tongued, and Philostratus. 
The ridiculous credulity of Aelian makes it possible that 
he would have done worse even than Philostratus. Julia 
perhaps chose Philostratus because he represented Greek 

1 See a dissertation by C. von Wulfften Pathe. Berlin 1887. 


culture and had no convictions of his own. It was his 
clever style that she especially appreciated. To him the 
empress gave, as he is careful to relate in beginning, 
the notes roughly made by Damis the Ninivite and en 
trusted to a kinsman from whom she got them in the pro 
cess of collecting books, which occupied much of her 
attention. Out of these notes she thought the skill of 
Philostratus could fashion a record which should embody 
the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Being daughter to a 
Phoenician who was high priest in the temple of the Sun 
at Emesa, she naturally felt that impulse toward intensi 
fying and reforming men s faith which characterised in 
those days her native corner of the world. Thence had 
come not only Apollonius of Tyana, but Paul of Tarsus 
and Simon Magus, as well as the beginnings of Christianity, 
and out of Julia s own house was soon to come Elagabalus, 
whose execrable reign was a Nightmare of Religious 

We may well shudder to think what might have been 
the result if our records of the life of Christ had fallen 
into the hands of a Philostratus. What if we had, instead 
of the four Gospels, a smoothed and would-be racy narra 
tive written in the vein of your Parisian feuilletonist, 1 to 
suit the tastes of a circle far more definitely restricted than 
the modem " tout Paris " ? An irritating impression of un 
reality, which forces itself upon the reader of Philostratus 
Life of Apollonius, makes it hard to get through even 
one of its eight tedious books. No one has more pithily 
expressed the feelings of all upon this point than Erasmus 
in his preface to St. Luke addressed to Henry the Eighth. 
I quote from an old translation : " Who readeth the lyfe 
of Apollonius Tyaneus any otherwayse then as a certayne 
dreamel Yea or rather who vouchsalueth to reade it at all ? " ! 

1 G. Bernhardy applies this word to Philostratus in the Allgemeine 
Litteratur Zeitung, 1839. 

- Quis Apollonii Tyanaei vitam non veluti somnium quoddam legit ? 
Imo quis legere dignatur ? 


Indeed the surprising fact is that respect, veneration, and 
even worship should have attached to Apollonius after he 
had been so completely victimised by the journalism of his 
day. And this surprising fact is surely an argument for 
something made of solider stuff than dreams, something 
really admirable in the true Apollonius, if anybody ever 
disentangled him from the play-acting personage of Philo- 

No one has the means of forming at the present day an 
independent opinion of Apollonius. We are obliged first 
to reject the picture of him given by Philostratus, and then, 
either to have no mind about him at all or to be of the 
mind of those who did know the facts. These may be 
separated into three classes : first come the religious-minded 
Christians who in spite of their prejudice against a reviver 
of paganism respected in Apollonius a man of saintly life 
and religious inspiration ; second come the scoffers like 
Lucian and Apuleius, who did not take religion seriously, 
and thought such a man necessarily either a knave or a 
fool, or both ; third comes in a class all by himself Dio 
Cassius the historian, who evidently never quite appre 
ciated what he was talking about in mentioning Apollonius. 
In one place where he is irritated he says substantially, 
"Caracalla preferred the company of freedmen to that of 
men of my mark, and was given over to cheats such as was 
Apollonius the Cappadocian." 1 Dio forgets the tremendous 
endorsement with which he has previously accompanied a 
much clumsier account than is given by Philostratus of one 
of Apollonius great deeds. " No matter how much men 
may doubt it, this story is as true as truth itself," " 2 he says 
after relating that while Domitian s assassination was in 
progress at Rome a certain man of Tyana named Apollonius 
went up to a high place and described the event before the 
people as if he were present, though he and they were in 
Ephesus "or some such place." 

1 Ixxvii. 1 8. 
~ TOVTO ourws tytvero, K&V /JLVpiaKis rts diriffT^ffr). Ixvii. end. 


Of the three classes above mentioned of those who had 
opportunity to know the facts about Apollonius, the third, 
which contains only Dio, need occupy us no further, 
because Dio plainly had never given any serious thought to 
the career of the Tyanaean, and did not know that his won 
derful Ephesian clairvoyant, Apollonius, was Apollonius 
the Cappadocian, whom he scorned. The second class 
contains Lucian and Apuleius, each of whom mentions 
Apollonius just once. 

Apuleius, in his self-vindication against the charge of 
using sorcery to win the hand of the heiress Prudentilla, 
says indignantly, after repudiating the charge : "If you can 
but prove the least colourable motive of self-interest in my 
suit for Prudentilla, then I grant you all. Then you shall 
call me a Carinondas, a Damigeron, a very Moses, an 
Apollonius, Dardanus himself, or any magician of vaunted 
repute since Zoroaster and Hostanes." Here murmurs 
interrupt him, and he turns to the magistrate, saying, 
"Maximus, you see the hubbub they make, because I 
named a few magicians names. What can be done with 
people so low and uncivilised ? " It does not suit Apuleius, 
for the purposes of his defence, to say more than this, but 
he plainly suggests that Apollonius, who had not been dead 
more than forty years at the time, was better than popular 
prejudice would allow. 

Lucian of Samosata a Voltaire capable of making 
merry over the burning of Servetus bears, by his silence 
more than by what he says, a similar testimony to the 
quality of Apollonius, whom he dismisses with a sneer at the 
absurdity of the play-actor s part which he played. If the 
Apollonius known to him had been really the Philostratus- 
Apollonius, Lucian would have made merry over all his 
adventures and pretensions l instead of saying simply that 

1 For a forcible presentation of this, see Bishop Lloyd s letter to 
Bentley, who had consulted him about a proposed edition of the life of 
Apollonius. After printing one or two pages Bentley abandoned this 


the first teacher and corrupter of the arch-impostor Alex 
ander was a follower of the "tragic Tyanaean." 

When it is remembered that Lucian believed fervently 
in the doctrines of Epicurus, against which the whole life 
of Apollonius had been a protest, an inclination to neglect 
any insinuations from this source will become irresistible. 
Accordingly we have left for our advisers only the Chris 
tian opponents of Apollonius, who seem the only persons 
that took the pains to understand him. The general im 
pression which they had of him is borne out by the best of 
all possible witnesses Apollonius himself. There remains 
an extract from a work written by the Tyanaean s own 
hand, which was so prized that it was engraved at Byzant 
ium on pillars of brass. 

This quotation is cited twice by Eusebius of Caesarea 
whose date is 330 A.D. once in his Preparation for, 1 and 
once in his Demonstration of, 2 the Gospel. " Even the 
well-known Apollonius of Tyana, whose name is upon all 
men s lips for praise, is said to write much in the same 
strain in his work on sacrifice about the first and the great 
God." Then follows a confirmation of the account in 
Philostratus of the new Pythagorean doctrine of his hero. 
Apollonius teaches that "there is one Highest God above 
and apart from the lower and many gods. Beyond the 
reach of the contaminating world of sense as he is, nothing 
apprehensible by any organ of sense, neither burnt offerings 
nor bloodless sacrifices, can reach him, not even uttered 
prayers. He is the substance of things seen, and in him 
plants, animals, men, and the elements, of which the world 
is made, have life and exist. He is the noblest of exist 
ences ; and men must duly worship him with the only 
faculty in them to which no material organ is attached 
their speculative reason." Eusebius quotes this with 
approval as coming from the most illustrious philosophers 
of Greece, and thus pays to Apollonius, by appealing to 
him against the baser sort of paganism, the highest tribute 

1 C. 12, book iv. - C. 5, book iii. 


that a Christian could. This is the more significant, be 
cause Eusebius is the one who was at great pains to refute 
Hierocles on behalf of the Christians. 

Hierocles maintained that Apollonius had lived a more 
exemplary and divine life upon earth than the Christ of the 
Gospels. His miracles were more numerous, Hierocles 
said, and better vouched for than those of Christ, and yet 
there was no pretence that he was god, but only one 
favoured of the gods. All this Eusebius attacks and 
refutes without pretending, as many carpers at the Philo- 
stratus-Apollonius have, that Apollonius was " a devil with 
bat s wings and a long tail." 1 He very rightly holds 
Philostratus responsible for many of the erroneous preten 
sions of Hierocles. Origen, who wrote his defence of 
Christianity against Celsus before this controversy between 
Hierocles and Eusebius took place, and before any attempt 
to put Apollonius on a par with Christ had been made, 
speaks with the same temperate respect of Apollonius, 
mentioning him, however, as a worker of miracles. 2 

Other authors confirm some of the better traits of the 
Apollonius of Philostratus. St. Augustin, for instance, 
commends him as exercising a larger measure of self-control 
than Zeus. Eunapius speaks of his life as proving him 
better than a philosopher. " He was something between 
the divine and the human, and his is not so much a life as 
the sojourn of a god with men." Eunapius, however, was 
a pagan, and his testimony is of very different weight from 
that given by Christian writers. Moreover Eunapius 
certainly had in mind chiefly, if not solely, the Apollonius 
of Philostratus. Concurrent testimony to the high standing 
of Apollonius may be accepted with all due reservations 
from various pagan sources. There was doubtless some 
thing in the facts about him known to the Empress Julia 
and her circle which singled him out as the best hero for 
a Pagan reformation. Less weight attaches to her son 

1 More the Platonist puts this phrase into the mouths of the detractors 
of Apollo and his oracles. 2 Contr. Cels. vi. 41. 


Caracalla s building of a temple in his honour, but the 
same is hardly true of the conduct of her great-nephew, 
the Emperor Alexander Severus. In his Lararium, says 
Spartianus, he had not only the statues of deified emperors, 
but also a choice of the most righteous the more especially 
hallowed souls. Among these was Apollonius, and also, 
according to a contemporary writer, Christ, Abraham, and 
Orpheus, as well as his own ancestors. This is a particu 
larly interesting passage, for it tends to show how the 
religious impulse which led men to deify the emperors, 
finding in their unsaintly lives its own corrective, was led 
on to the deification of any and all conspicuously noble 
characters. 1 Who shall say that the state of mind to which 
this led did not make men better able to reach the ideal 
of the Imitation of Christ ? 

Under the same category of pagan tributes to the 
character and sanctity of Apollonius falls the tale of how 
he saved his native Tyana from destruction by turning 
aside the wrath of Aurelian. Apollonius appeared, and by 
his bodily presence saved Tyana, just as Athena is said to 
have shown herself to the affrighted Alaric, who spared 
Athens in consequence. These latest results of the myth- 
making power in paganism bear a striking family resem 
blance to the earliest lives of the Christian saints. In 
them gods, demi-gods, and heroes alike are assimilated to 
the status of patron saints. 

But to return to the most important, the only convincing, 
tributes to the excellency of Apollonius of Tyana, those 
from early Christian writers, the last, but not the least, 
which shall be mentioned is in a letter of the Christian 
Sidonius Apollinaris to a counsellor of Evariges, king of 
the Goths. 2 As Cudworth (writing in a rather prejudiced 
vein) says of him : " though a Christian, he (Sidonius) was 

1 The pinnacle of sanctity reached by Apollonius did certainly place 
his claims to reverence on a par with those of the emperors. This accounts 
for the well-known coins that bear his profile upon them. 

2 Letters, book viii. , third letter. 


so dazzled with the glittering show and lustre of his 
(Apollonius ) counterfeit virtues, as if he had been enchanted 
by this magician long after his death." The following is a 
sufficient though not minutely accurate translation of the 
letter in question. " Read of a man (with reverence to the 
Catholick faith be it spoken) in most things like yourself, 
sought after by the rich, yet not seeking after riches; 
covetous of knowledge, not of money; abstemious in the 
middle of feasts, plainly cloathed amongst the sumptuous, 
severe amongst the luxurious, rough and unadorned in the 
midst of delicate nations, and shining with a venerable 
negligence amongst the wanton nobles of Persian kings. 
And when he made no use of the flocks either for food or 
apparel, he was rather slighted than envied in the kingdoms 
thro which he travelled, and when the good fortune of 
kings favoured him in everything, he only asked those 
favours which he was more ready to give than to take." 1 

Surely we need not be more prejudiced against Apol 
lonius than were his Christian antagonists in the days 
when more was known about him than we can know 
to-day. We may, at least, leaving momentarily out of 
account whether he was or was not in himself an impostor, 
be thankful that the idealised figure of Apollonius rallied 
around itself so much of the life and enthusiasm of depart 
ing paganism ; for there were points of striking similarity 
between his life and teaching and that life the imitation of 
which is Christianity. We may safely see in the attempted 
reforms of Apollonius a preparation of the pagan world for 
Christianity, since "even Christians have thought rever 
ently of him, and believed that he did his wonders by the 
power of God, or by secret philosophy and knowledge of 
nature not revealed to other men." 2 

1 For this, version see Bayle s Dictionary, translated in 1735, s.v. 
" Apollonius." 

2 Meric Casaubon, alluding to words attributed to Justin Martyr. 



IN almost any Greek village you choose, the man whom all 
delight to honour is pretty sure to be a doctor. The 
mayor, or demarch, whose courtesy I experienced at 
Thebes, was a medical practitioner, and in many other 
places Kalamata, for instance great kindnesses came to 
me from doctors, men of influence always. In one town 
of considerable importance the apothecary had been elected 

What the Greeks have always admired is that men s 
intellects should unerringly hit the mark. Nowhere can 
this unerring insight be better shown than by the swift leap 
of a wise doctor s mind to the truth about disease. In the 
United States of America there was, at the beginning of 
this century, an admiration more than Greek for doctors, 
since they were credited with such artistic capacity that a 
Dr. Thornton was encouraged to compete with a pro 
fessional architect for the honour of building the Capitol 
at Washington. 1 Special causes, however, brought Greek 
doctors into the forefront of intellectual life after the 
supremacy of the Turks. 

" Under the Turkish rule and before the Greek revolu- 

1 See Mr. Henry Adam s interesting account of this matter in his 
History of the United States of America during the first Administration 
of Thomas Jefferson, vol. i. ch. iv. p. in. 


tion," my friend M. Demetrios Bikelas writes me, "most 
of the learned Greeks who were not clergymen were doctors. 
They could not pursue, with any chance of profit, any 
other branch of studies. Medicine sometimes opened 
the way to higher positions. Thus the celebrated Alex 
ander Mavrocordato, grand drogman of the Porte (1636- 
1714), was a doctor of Padua. Italy was then the place 
whither such Greek students as could leave their country 
resorted. At the beginning of this century a great many 
of the learned Greeks who helped the revival of their 
country were equally doctors. Neither these nor those; of 
the preceding centuries confined themselves to medicine ; 
some were poets, such as Vilaras of Janina (1771-1823). 
Even Christopoulos, one of the best lyric poets of Greece 
(1772-1847), had studied medicine at Buda ; Coray, the 
famous scholar, was a doctor of Montpellier (1748-1833). 
Colettis, who played a great part during the war of the 
revolution, and died Prime Minister of Greece in 1847, 
began his career as the doctor of Ali Pasha of Janina. 
The fathers of the Caratheodori two cousins, one of 
whom (after having been minister of foreign affairs, and the 
representative of Turkey at the Congress of Berlin) is 
actually Prince of Samos, and the other Minister of 
Turkey at Brussels were both distinguished doctors at 

" The calling of a doctor was so honoured that custom 
had attached to it the title of Your Excellence, ^o^rarc. 
Doctors are no more addressed by this title in Athens, but 
I am not sure that there are not still Greek countries 
where they enjoy this title, generally applied to diploma 
tists. Since the revolution and the institution of the 
Greek university, medicine is so far from being the only 
branch of knowledge pursued in Greece, that the faculty of 
law draws the greatest number of students at the Athenian 
University. And yet there has been the natural increase, 
a very considerable one, in the number of Greek doctors. 
It would be invidious to choose names among the Greek 



doctors who have distinguished themselves in Greece of 
late years. I may, as an instance of the aptitude of Greeks 
for that science, mention the names of the late M. Damas- 
chino and of M. Panas, who had both attained to the 
Professorship in the Faculty of Paris. I may also mention 
the well-known author, Dr. Paspati, who studied in 
America. Dr. Cavafy, too, one of the physicians of St. 
George s Hospital in London, is a Greek by birth." 



THE statue of Aphrodite found by excavation on ground 
sacred to Epidaurian Aesculapius represents that smiling 
goddess as the wearer of a sword. 1 Here is an ancient 
reproduction of that beautiful statue fashioned by the 
Athenian Alcamenes, 2 a statue whose cheeks and full front 
face were lauded by Lucian of Samosata. Of this early 
masterpiece the Epidaurian statue, though mutilated, gives a 
charming suggestion. But, alas ! Lucian tells of a pulse 
of sweet harmony in its rounded and dainty wrist, and a 
light movement of charm and delicacy in the fingers. These 
perfections we shall never see, for the Epidaurian copy is 
bereft of hands. 

But why should a statue of Aphrodite grace the 
sanctuary at Epidaurus? The same reason, though hard 
for us to give, suffices which established her worship at 
Athens on the south side of the summit of the Acropolis, 
not far above the Athenian precinct of Aesculapius. 3 There 

1 See a beautiful photograph in Brunn s Denkmaler series. 

2 See Furtwangler, in Roscher s Ausfiirliches Lexicon, p. 413. 

3 Still nearer to this Asclepieium was a shrine probably of Aphrodite 
Pandemos, i.e. that aspect of the goddess which brings her into the worst 


she was worshipped as Sosandra, 1 a rescuer of men, and 
there stood the wonderful and very ancient statue by 
Calamis. At Athens, furthermore, was the great original by 
Alcamenes just spoken of, the Aphrodite of the garden. 
Within the Cnidian precinct of Demeter, and not far from 
her own home at Cnidus, a head of Aphrodite was found, 
which, though mutilated, shows in its expression the 
influence of Demeter; and Aphrodite s shrine upon the pass 
near Daphne was one of the halting places of the procession 
to Eleusis. Thus was Aphrodite often associated in 
neighbourly fashion with Demeter and with Aesculapius. 

At Corinth, Elis, Sparta, Delphi, in various places of 
Crete, on the island Cythera, in most centres of Sicilian life, 
all over Asia Minor everywhere, in fact, where Greek 
religion had its footing, near Apollo s temple on Delos, on 
the Olympian hill of Cronos, high above the temple of great 
Zeus himself, the Greek goddess Aphrodite was worshipped, 
and statues of her were placed near the special shrines of 
all the other gods, while the very throne of Phidian Zeus, 
in his Olympian temple, was adorned with a sculptured 
representation of her birth at Paphos. 

The influence for good and for harm of the ideal repre 
sented by this goddess was one of the most widely felt in 
antiquity, nor was her hold upon men s minds always super 
ficial. 2 According to the ancient view of her power, Aphrodite 
swayed the fate of gods as well as of men. 3 This power she 
exercised not only to cover the earth with fair flowers and 
fruits, but also to bewitch men, to allure women, and to 
enchant the mind of Zeus himself, and high Apollo. The 
impulse of love which she inspired was stronger even than 

1 See Lucian, Imag. 4, and cf. Furtwangler as above, pp. 411 and 412. 
- See below, p. 303. 3 Horn. Hymn, iv. 247 ff. 


Fate, or as her Athenian worshippers reverently put it, she 
was the oldest of the Fates. 

It will repay us well to go and find this marvellously 
strong power in the place where, as an influence over 
Greeks, it had its birth. Let us therefore turn to the 
western coast of Cyprus, an island which is probably more 
Greek to-day than it ever was in the past. 1 Aphrodite rose 
from the sea at Old Paphos in Cyprus, and as a Greek 
goddess of strong power, she ruled Hellas from her Paphian 
precinct. This is significant, for the fact that Cyprus and 
Paphos were not originally of Greece prepares us for 
another fact, which the Greeks themselves well knew, that 
Aphrodite came to them from many parts of the world, 
but chiefly from Phoenicia, and, through Phoenicia, ulti 
mately from Assyria. 2 

Having her home in Paphos, aloof from the centre 01 

1 See F. W. Barry, "Report on the Census of Cyprus " (London, 1884). 
Of 186,173 souls in Cyprus (1881) 140,793 speak Greek, and 42,638 
speak Turkish, while Arabic, English, Maltese, Armenian, and French are 
spoken by not inconsiderable groups. The Greek Church has 137,631 
members, and there are 45,458 Mohammedans in Cyprus. 

2 If this statement be so worded as to exclude originally Greek charac 
teristics from the early goddess, it is undoubtedly false. Aphrodite, 
daughter to Zeus and Dione, appears as an almost purely Greek concep 
tion (free from any oriental touch) every now and again in the early poets 
(Homer and Sappho), and there is an echo of such a report of her in 
Euripides ; but after all that Holwerda and Engel have said to prove her to 
be Greek, and to derive, so far as she was not Greek, from Asia Minor, 
Aphrodite remains in her most characteristic qualities of Semitic origin. 
See Duncker s History, i. p. 274. As a learned authority says (Robert s 
Preller, p. 352) Diese Verschmelzung der Leben gebenden und vernicht- 
enden Macht in einer weiblichen Gottheit finden wir nicht nur in 
Babylonien und Assyrien, sondern auch bei den Semitischen Stammen 
des Westens, bei den Syrern den Phoenizern und Carthagern, bei denen 
die Baaltis, die Astarte-Aschera, die Dido- Anna abwechselnd Segen und 
Frucht, Tod und Verderben sendet." See Plautus, Mercator, near the 
beginning : Diva Astarte hominum deorumque vis, vita salus ; rursus 
eadem quae est | Pernicies, mors, interitus." On the theory of her Hittite 
origin, see Appendix VII. 


Greece, Aphrodite was less transformed by Hellenism 
than any other of the figures and ideas brought to Greece 
from the East. 1 Here, then, in Cyprus, may be studied a 
visible contact between the Semitic and the Hellenic genius 
in religion. Aphrodite, as the Greeks knew and worshipped 
her, was neither Semitic nor Greek, but a curious compli 
cation akin both to Greece and to the East far and near. 
She bears traces of the armed Ishtar of Assyrian mythology, 
as for instance in the above mentioned Epidaurian copy 
from the statue of Alcamenes, where she has put on a sword, 
and again in statues known to have existed at Sparta, Corinth, 
and elsewhere. In fact under the smiles and blandishments 
of golden Aphrodite in her sunniest Grecian days lurked 
always the jealous wrath of a divinity who would have 
none other before her. Here for the first time in Greek 
mythology we have clearly set before us a jealous and 
revengeful 2 omnipotence asserting itself, not as in Dionysus 
case over men only, but also over the gods. 3 Aphrodite is 
much more than a deified incarnation of the powers of 
growth and increase in nature, and although the same be 
true of the Eleusinian gods, yet in a certain oriental sense 
her power has a wider field than that either of Dionysus or 
of Demeter. No doubt her influence over typically Greek 
minds was the more superficial on this account. But 
where and while she ruled, her sway was absolute, and 
admitted of no questioning. Her will, whether for evil or 
for good, was always law, and the worshippers of her 

1 The Cyprians well knew and freely admitted that Aphrodite came 
from the East. See Herod, i. 105 : TT)S Su/j^s ev Acr/cdXon i 7r6Xt rtJ ej 
viro\ei(j)dfrTcs effvX-rjcrav TT/S Ovpavit^s A(f>po8lTrjs rb ip6v tffri 8 TOVTO 
rb Ipbv iravT&v apx^rarov ipQ>v 6<ra TCWTTJS TT}S Qeov /cat yap TO tv 

Ipbv evdevrev ey&ero, cbs avroi \tyov<ri 

2 Iliad, iii. 413 and ff. 

3 Horn. Hymn, iv. 247 and ff. 



predilection prostrated themselves before it, like slaves be 
fore a sultan. They all trembled and bowed down in fear of 
the dreadful visitation of her wrath. This is an aspect of the 
goddess of which those who try to understand her never must 
lose sight, but lest we dwell upon it so long as to forget the 
more genial and graceful traits in her character, let us rather 
contemplate Cyprus, her island home, her refuge in supreme 
moments alike of sorrow and of joy, Cyprus, the island made 
glad with dances a mother of winsome loves. 1 

This is the isle of many names^called by the prophets of 
Israel Chittim ; by the poets of Greece surnamed, from its 
many jutting headlands on the north, the Horned Isle; and, 
from the lowland flats upon its southern and eastern sides, 
the Hidden Isle. Approach the south-western coast, if you 
will as did the Knights Hospitallers of old from Rhodes. 
Let the morning be breezy and hazy so that clouds may rest 
upon the hills that cluster at the feet of the higher ranges 
behind, crowned by Mount Troodos, anciently Mount 
Olympus. 2 Then there will be a mist rising up from the 
sea and meeting these low-lingering vapours. At such a 
moment Cyprus is the hidden isle, 8 hidden until, at the 

1 Insula laeta choris, blandorum et mater amorum, Claudian. 

2 Many modern maps put the Olympus elsewhere, but with no good 
reason. See Appendix VII. 

3 " Varia autem nomina illius erant, in quibus Cryptus, Plin. V. xxxi. 
Vocatam ante Acamantida tradit Philonides, Cerastin Xenagoras, et Aspel- 
iam et Amathusiam; AstynomusCrypton, et Coliniam. Causam addit Steph- 
anus, quod sub mare occultata merit. A(rriW/iios 8 (pTjffi, lUpvirrbv 
KK\T)(rdai diet, TO Kptiirrecrdai TroAAd/as virb T?}S daXdaffrjs, Ita enim hie 
emendo: quippe perperam editur, Kvirpov, Cryptum . . . turn Eustathius, 
in Dionysium. ot 5 Kpvirrov irore K\T]0TJvai avrrjv \{yov<ri 5td rb KKpixf>6ai 
virb daXacra-rjs. Aliam causam videtur assignare Phurnutus, De nat. Deor. 
ubi de Venere : e/c roirrou 8e KOI iepa rijs A^podir^ ^ r&v Kvd^pojv 
vrjcros elvai SoKel, rd%a de Kal i) KI^TT/JOS, ffW^Sowrd TTWS /card rotfvojjut 
Ty Kpv\f/ei, . . . nomine suo occultationem referens. " From an unpublished 
MS. (autograph) of John Meursius, Cyprus, Lib. I. chap. vi. , in St. Mark s 
Library, class x. cod. sec. xvii. a, 214, i, 156. 


last moment, the view of it springs upon you. Then after 
crossing the tempestuous gulf of Sathalia l one may feel 
perhaps like shipwrecked Odysseus, who 

. . . caught a glimpse of shore close at hand 
Giving a sharp glance forward upborne on the crest of a 

If, instead of landing at Limassol, the port lying nearest 
to the temple of Paphian Aphrodite, we had approached 
Cyprus from the north, a far more picturesque impression 
would have been received. Close to the northern coast 
line from end to end runs a bold chain of picturesque 
peaks, of the same formation with, and parallel to, the 
Taurus range in Asia Minor. Cyprus consists first of these 
two mountain ranges, the northern and southern; and 
secondly of an alluvial plain, called Mesorea or Mid- 
mountainland, that stretches between and connects the two. 

A geologist of the airy and positive-poetical 2 sort would 
say that this midmountain plain was but a film of yesterday, 3 

1 Brother Stephen Lusignan describes it as " 1 espouvantable gouffre 
de Sathalie," and the legend connecting St. Helena (the empress) with 
Cyprus tells of her stilling its stormy uproar by dropping into it a nail 
from the true cross. Curiously enough the cross upon which the penitent 
thief was crucified was discovered in Cyprus by Lazarus and St. Mary 
Magdalene ! Meursius, Cyprus, cap. 28 of Book II. 

2 I need not say that a very different sort of geologist has been found 
in the gifted M. Albert Gaudry, to give an admirable account of Cyprus. 
See his paper presented to the Soci^te" Ge"ologique de France, on November 
14, 1853 (vol. xi. in the second series of that Society s publications) ; also 
his " Recherches scientifiques dans I Orient," published with a beautiful 
geological map at Paris 1855. 

3 How far this is really the case largely depends upon the as yet unde 
termined age of the northern range of mountains. This whole question is 
dealt with by Dr. Oberhummer of Berlin in two most thorough papers 
" Aus Cypern " and "Die Insel Cypern," published respectively in the 
7.eitschrift der Gesellschaft fiir Erdknnde zu Berlin (xxv. Band 1890), and 
the Jahresbericht der Geographischen Gesellschaft zu Miinchen (Heft 13, 
1890). Dr. Oberhummer speaks of the probability that Herr Alfred 
Bergeat will soon solve the difficult questions at issue by careful reports 


and would tell you of a recent era when there was no visible 
plain, but only the submerging sea stretched between. Then 
Cyprus was not one but two islands the northern and the 
southern. The northern island was, at that imagined and 
not impossible time, a mere backbone of bold peaks, an 
outwork, so to speak, protecting the parallel mountains of 
the Asiatic coast in Cilicia or Caramania only fifty miles 
distant to the north. Look southward and, supposing 
yourself (always in company of the poet geologer) to have 
gone backward a few aeons, you see first a gulf of thirty 
miles expanse, and then the southern or Troodos island of 
Cyprus. Of these two mountain parts of Cyprus the history 
has been as different as are their scenery and their climate. 
On the southern side of the island the slopes of Mount 
Troodos are the one and only refuge from the fever- 
exhalations and terrific heats of the height of summer, and 
thither all fly who are able to do so, when the dog-days 
impend. Of this southern side of the island Martial s 
saying holds true, " infamis calore Cyprus, 1 Cyprus is 
decidedly hot" Such harbours as Cyprus boasts there is 
not one on the island where an ordinary steamship can 
find safe anchorage are with one unimportant exception 
on the southern side. This southern Cyprus is the Cyprus 
of history, and the midmountain plain 2 belongs to it. In 

from the spot. The interesting and instructive account given by Dr. 
Oberhummer of the table-mountains in the midmountain plain of Cyprus, 
and his comparison of them with features in the Sahara, is one of his many 
contributions to knowledge of Cyprus. His papers came to me unfor 
tunately as I was going to press, and I therefore profited too little by them. 
1 Infamem nimio calore Cypron 
Observes, moneo precorque, Flacce, 
Messes area cum teret crepantes 
Et fulvi iuba saeviet leonis. Epigr. ix. 91. 

2 This Mesorea, one end of which is fertilised by the Pediaeus, a 
Cypriote river Nile, Gaudry, Recherches, p. 96, M. Gaudry calls " un 


what remains, the mountain backbone of northern Cyprus, 
no great centre either of religious, political, or commercial 
interests (unless Cerynia 1 be forced to do duty as such) has 
ever been established ; and therefore this, its most beautiful 
and healthful portion, may be said never to have belonged 
to Cyprus in any real fashion. This whole northern reach 
is little more than an elegant extract from the obscurer 
portions of Asia Minor, whereas the great plain and the 
southern mountains of Cyprus had a physical character of 
their own. Here was a natural meeting - ground for all 
peoples of the East and West where the tongues of 
Syria, Assyria, Phoenicia, and Egypt from the East, and 
the Greek and Roman vernaculars from the West, could 
be heard. Even when the centre of commercial exchange 
between the East and West had long passed away from 
Southern Cyprus, still the island remained a place of 
congress, a point of contact and impact for eastern and 
western religious influences. 

The present status of Cyprus is in fact its whole history 
in a nutshell. Nothing for Cyprus and everything for all 
the world besides. Governed by the English on ordinary 
terms, Cyprus would have every chance of prosperity, if we 
may judge from the Ionian islands under British adminis 
tration. But these western rulers in Cyprus are now 
administering Eastern laws, not English nor even Cypriote, 
but Turkish laws. The English in Cyprus have been 
described somewhat bitterly by one of themselves as Turkish 
tax-gatherers. And these taxes are not even levied for the 
Turk s own use, but go to assure a pittance to Turkish 

des lieux les plus fertiles du mondc." In the season when I saw it nothing 
of this richness appeared. 

1 Before the days of Cerynia (Cerines), Lapethus came very near to 
attaining a real importance. 


bondholders in France, England, and elsewhere. 1 So it has 
been always with Cyprus. Before the Turks, the more 
rapacious Venetians exploited the island most mercilessly ; 
they got it by a trick the very nature of which showed that 
Venice had lost every imperial instinct, and could only 
oppress. Before the Venetians came the French dynasty of 
the Lusignans, 2 who established a feudalism efficient perhaps, 
but certainly corrupt and monstrously cruel from the first. 
Lusignans, Genoese, Venetians, all these western potentates 
and powers lost every moral quality the moment they 
touched unhappy Cyprus, so that the islanders might well 
regret the days when Rome and Byzantium 3 ruled with even 

1 In his paper (pp. 98 and ff. ) " Die Insel Cypern referred to above, Dr. 
Oberhummer gives an extremely clear account of the financial impossibilities 
under which the English administration of Cyprus is now and has been 
labouring. The yearly tribute ultimately payable to the bondholders is 
92,686. This was fixed on the basis of an average account of revenues 
for the five years preceding 1878. Those familiar with the incapacity 
for administration possessed and prized by the unspeakable Turk will not 
wonder that the calculations of 1878 were all wrong. Dr. Oberhummer 
gives the following figures of yearly income and outgo in Cyprus, and they 
speak for themselves 

Income. Outgo. 

1879-80 148,360 117,445 

1880-81 156,095 119,416 

1881-82 163,732 157,672 

1882-83 189,000 120,000 

1883-84 194,051 111,685 

2 On this whole chapter in Cypriote history the greatest authority, as 
well as the most entertaining, is the gifted M. de Mas Latrie. For a 
most readable book on Cyprus in the Middle Ages, and in modern times 
down to the English occupation, see his L ile de Chypre, Paris, 1879, which 
is dedicated to Sir Henry Layard. See also his monumental Histoire de 
I ile de Chypre sous le regne des princes de la maison de Lusignan, Paris, 

3 A flourishing condition of Cypriote industry and a high repute for 
Cypriote stuffs in Byzantine days is implied in a letter written by the holy 
Epiphanios to the Bishop of Jerusalem. In the midst of a tirade against 
the heresy of Origen, Epiphanios alludes to a high-handed proceeding of 
his own. He had entered a church and found there a rich cloth, with a 
representation of the face of Christ or of that of some saint. He ordered 


hand, assured protection, and moderate imposts over their ill- 
fated country. And to-day, when their rulers are the best 
and most upright of men, ready and eager to help, a fatality 
prevents the island from gaining what it should, and still 
the hardships of Cyprus win her no hope. 

So far back as history reaches there has been no inde 
pendence for Cyprus, and there never has been a Cypriote 
nationality or national enthusiasm. It is all the more sur 
prising, therefore, that a Greek enthusiasm has seized upon 
the larger portion of the natives to-day. The vivacity and 
strength of the modern Greek nationality is nowhere more 
apparent than in this peaceful and almost complete conquest 
of the allegiance of Cyprus. 

For the theatre of a religious evolution where the western 
spirit of Hellenic beauty and independence should meet the 
eastern spirit of blind submission and comprehension of 
divine omnipotence, and combine on equal terms, a place 
which belonged to no one and to every one Cyprus was 
required. I have enumerated the various occupants of 
Cyprus since the days of Rome only as a prelude to a 
similar enumeration which shall go back as far as, and per 
haps a step farther than, the undimmed record of history 
may warrant. Such a backward survey is plainly needed in 
order that there may be some knowledge of the background 
upon which the composite international worship of Paphian 
Aphrodite was sketched. 

Before the Romans were the Greeks, before the Greeks 
the Phoenicians. Before the Phoenicians were the Lycians 

this to be cut down, and gave word that a poor man should have it for 
grave-clothes. There were murmurs ; the people thought he should have 
replaced it. This he promised, and now apologises for delay. He had 
delayed, wishing to get a good one from Cyprus." Now, under pressure 
he sends the best he can get. 


or were they the Hittites? and a Semitic race so thinks 
Mr. Max Duemmler was displaced by the Lycians. Perhaps 
these were the Hittites. The whole subject of the pre- 
Phoenician inhabitants of Cyprus is beset with unusual 
difficulty. 1 Were these Lycians, for instance, the writers of 
the strange Cypriote characters found all over the island ? 
Or are these Cypriote letters to be attributed to Max 
Duemmler s Semitic aborigines ? Other authorities declare 
that whoever first used these Cypriote characters whether 
you call him Lycian or Semitic or aboriginal was a 
Hittite of the Hittites. 

Plainly we shall hardly escape without offending various 
people of various minds if we undertake to have an opinion 
about the earliest takers and makers of Cyprus. There 
are those who find traces in Lycia and Phrygia, through 
out the modern Caramania, of an early invasion from Thrace 
and the West, and who claim that this invasion swept over 
Cyprus as well. Certainly these Hittites or Thracians or 
Semites or Lycians could easily cross the fifty miles of sea 
and come over from Cilicia. In fact the crossing has many 
times been made by invading grasshoppers, 2 feared to-day 
more than Hittites, Thracians, or Lycians. 

1 Mr. J. Arthur R. Munro writes me : "As to the primitive population 
I think the evidence is tending to show that there was a great immigration 
of a semi-Greek stock from Asia Minor where they had passed under 
oriental influences, and only a slight immigration (if any) direct from 
Greece. The connection with Arcadia in language (v. Meister) and 
traditions, names, etc., seems to me best explained not by colonisation, 
but by supposing the first tide of Greek peoples flowed southward in 
parallel streams (i) into Greece, and (2) over the Hellespont, the Arcadians 
being a remnant of the pre-Dorian people maintaining themselves in the 

2 See Gaudry s Recherches, p. 147, also the excellent book, published 
in 1878, on Cyprus by R. Hamilton Lang of the Imperial Ottoman 
Bank. Chapter x. deals with droughts and grasshoppers. The 
very remarkable sympathy of Mr. Lang for the Cypriote peasantry 


The Phoenician invasion itself was marvellously early, 
for their first Cypriote possession was apparently their first 
foothold on foreign soil. Anxious to enlarge the trade of 
their coast towns of Tyre and Sidon, they founded a trading 
post on the nearly opposite strand of Cyprus, at the place 
now called Larnaca, and used in modern and in medieval 
times as the sea -port of the inland cathedral -town of 
Nicosia, also called Lefcosia. The ancient name bestowed 
here by the Phoenicians was Kittim, preserved by the 
Greeks and Romans in the form of Citium. The site chosen 
first by the Phoenicians in Cyprus was wisely selected, for 
it remains to-day the important port of the whole island. 
Now its importance comes chiefly from relations with the 
West ; anciently it was wholly identified with the fortunes of 
Phoenician Tyre and Sidon. 

"The burden of Tyre, howl, ye ships of Tarshish,"- 
says Isaiah the prophet, " for it is laid waste so that there 
is no house, no entering in ; from the land of Chittim it is 
revealed to me. Be still, ye inhabitants of the isle, thou 
whom the merchants of Zidon that pass over the sea have 

The other two places for colonising selected by the 
Phoenicians were Amathus and Old Paphos, neither of which 
has preserved a shadow even of that sometime glory. 
Even in ancient times it was apparently the religion rather 
than the commerce of Phoenicia that kept its foothold in 
these two places, which were never of any great extent or 
importance outside of their respective sanctuaries. Hence 

makes his book an invaluable one, and its worth is increased by the 
appreciative use he has made of an unpublished report on Cypriote 
agriculture made in 1844 by M. Fourcade of the French Consular Service. 
Mr. Lang s book well deserved to be translated into French, as it was 
in 1879. 


there is a plentiful lack of evidence 1 from the soil itself 
and its contents to show that Phoenicians ever found lodg 
ment in either place. 

The Phoenicians were the common carriers of antiquity, 
and their genius was so purely for expediting exchange and 
promoting commerce that they had, even in their great 
centres of commerce let alone such places as Paphos and 
Amathus little or no energy left for building. If this was 
true of Phoenicians in the country of their birth and pre 
ference, how much more true must it have been of the 
Phoenicians in Cyprus, an alien land where no monuments 
of any epoch, saving tombs, have survived ; 2 with the sole 

1 In his admirable publication Devia Cypria, Mr. D. G. Hogarth raises 
the whole question of Phoenician influence in Cyprus, saying Indeed as 
research has tended more and more to minimise the part played by the 
latter (Phoenicians) in Cyprian economy, and to reject their claim to be 
the importers even of the great goddess, or the founders of her temples, 
so western influence must be relegated to the days of Evagoras." To 
this Mr. Hogarth adds in a note, where he speaks with the utmost know 
ledge of the facts, since he superintended the excavations at Old Paphos 
" It will be remembered that we found no Phoenician relics at Old Paphos 
at all ; nor have any been found at Amathus, Salamis, Lapethus, or indeed 
(except in isolated instances) anywhere but at Citium and Idalium." This 
is all very strong negative evidence, nor is the late use of the Ionian alphabet 
more positive. Really positive evidence seems required to refute Herodotus 
and others who put Phoenician cults at Old Paphos, and who doubtless 
had before them avenues of information for ever closed to us. They con 
stitute the only evidence at hand to show what intelligent men believed in 
those days about the origin of the worship of Aphrodite at Paphos. We are 
beginning to have a certain amount of evidence which they lacked, and it 
is becoming plain to me that Aphrodite united to the Phoenician strain, 
that fixes her character, peculiarities derived neither from the Phoenicians 
nor from the Greeks. The only possible way in which these new and im 
portant facts can eventually achieve due recognition is to have them stated 
at this stage of the investigation by one who denies the Phoenician origin 
of the goddess. Such a statement Mr. Hogarth, who inclines to that view, 
has been good enough to make in a letter to me full of valuable suggestions 
on many points. For his account of the Hittite origin of Aphrodite, see 
Appendix VII. below. 

2 The condition in which the ruins of the temple of Paphian Aphrodite 
have been found is so lamentable that it would be a mockery to speak of 
it as a surviving monument. See below, Appendix VI. 


exception of a few bits from Roman times and some few very 
noteworthy medieval churches and ruined castles. A century 
will hardly be required, at the rate of dilapidation now observ 
able ; in less than that time even these will have disappeared, 
and there will be no reading of the past elsewhere than in 
tombs used many times and rifled by many generations of 
men who were for the most part ignorant and superstitious. 
That the Greeks, who did so much building of durable 
sort, should have left no monuments in Cyprus worth 
mentioning is a matter of surprise, because of the early date 
of their first occupation of various parts of the island. 
But, in spite of this early occupation, it cannot be denied 
that the Greeks have never been justified at any time in the 
past as much as they are now in calling Cyprus a Greek island. 
The monuments in this land were sure to perish. They 
were never built by a people rooted in the soil, and some 
new master always came who did not know and had no care 
for the buildings left by those whom he dislodged. The 
site of Salamis and Famagosta best illustrates this curious 
state of things. Farthest north lay the Greek colony of 
Salamis. This was abandoned for the medieval walled city 
about five miles to the south of it, Famagosta a town with 
churches innumerable and a cathedral, as well as the most 
wonderfully complete fortifications. Famagosta is now an 
untenanted simulacrum of the commercial glories of the 
days of Italian supremacy in Cyprus, and not quite a mile 
farther south lies Varoschia, where the living successors of the 
Salaminians and Famagostans of old now congregate. It is 
as if we found a ruined city at the battery end of Manhattan 
Island and deserted tenements at 23d Street, because the 
traffic of New York had been transferred to the neighbour 
hood of the Harlem River. 


The moral to be drawn from this digression is that the 
circumstances of Cyprus, and the native pursuits of the 
Phoenicians there and elsewhere alike, will prepare us for 
the scantiest yield of Phoenician remains on sites where 
they are known l to have lived for many years. 

I have said that Cyprus was just the place where Greek 
and Phoenician influences could meet and mingle without 
the interference of surrounding circumstances to give pre 
dominance to either. This is so true in essential matters 
that even the date of the Greek colonisation of Cyprus 
stretches far enough back to come near the earliest occupa 
tion of Cyprus by Phoenicians. Kittim (Larnaca-Citium) 
preceded the Greek occupation ; but there are stories which 

1 This knowledge is neither derived from monuments nor confirmed in 
any appreciable degree, as regards Paphos and several other Phoenician 
abiding places, by archaeological discoveries. See above, note i p. 282, 
where Mr. Hogarth s striking testimony is quoted. But still undoubted 
traces of a Phoenician occupation have been found at Citium and Idalium, 
and their presence at this last place gives a trace of their close connection 
with the goddess there worshipped. Furthermore, the oldest portion of 
the temple of Aphrodite at Paphos (see Appendix) might perhaps prove to 
be of Phoenician construction, if we were fortunate enough to know any 
thing sufficiently definite about Phoenician building. These slight clues 
derived from excavation and archaeological research help us toward cer 
tainty when the early traditions connecting Cyprus with the Phoenicians 
are duly taken into account. To begin with Homer, the Odyssey mentions 
Cyprus five times, and the Iliad only once ; but Aphrodite is mentioned as 
Cypris a name unknown to the Odyssey five times in the Iliad. Thus 
Cyprus was well known to the Homeric mind ; and Aphrodite, in spite of 
her Greek father Zeus and mother Dione, was habitually severed from her 
Olympian peers, and associated with Cyprus. Now Cyprus is plainly 
associated in the Odyssey with Phoenicia and Egypt (iv. 83), and in the 
Homeric Hymn to Dionysus, the Tyrsenian (Phoenician) pirate talks of 
taking his captive to Egypt or to Cyprus (v. 28), and thus bears testimony 
to the intimate home relations between Cyprus and the Phoenicians. 
Plainly if the Homeric mind had been as deeply interested in the history as in 
the worship of Aphrodite, we should have had from Homer what Herodotus 
finally gives us, a statement that the Phoenicians brought the goddess s 
worship to Cyprus. Homer knows nothing of the goddess s birth in 
Cyprus. This came in the Homeric Hymns and in Hesiod. The mention 
of Cyprus in connection with Aphrodite by Herodotus and later writers is 
familiar, and is often alluded to in other portions of this chapter. 


leave it doubtful if Old Paphos may not have known Greeks 
as well as Phoenicians in its earliest days. 

The Arcadian chieftain Agapenor naively qualified 
by a Lusignan chronicler 1 as "Lieutenant-general des 
Navires du Roy Agamemnon," " King Agamemnon s lord 
high admiral " founded Paphos on his way home from 
the sack of Troy. This Paphos of Agapenor is probably 
the later New Paphos, a town commercially far more suc 
cessful than the older and Phoenician Old Paphos on the 
hill not far away ; but still, our confused informant Pausanias 
declares that Agapenor established the worship and the 
temple of Aphrodite at Paphos, and adds by way of making 
confusion worse confounded that this Paphian worship 
instituted by Agapenor had until then been maintained at 
Golgoi, another place in Cyprus. But testimony of superior 
weight to that of Pausanias tells us that the first worship of 
Aphrodite at Old Paphos was Phoenician. Only it evidently 
came very early and very closely in contact with the adven 
turous Greeks. Much or little as Agapenor may have done 
for the worship of the goddess at Paphos, he certainly 
did as much for it in Arcadia, the temple of Aphrodite 
Paphia at Tegea in south-western Arcadia was of Agapenor s 
founding. It is worth noticing carefully how inevitable was 
the acceptance by Greece of this originally Assyrian goddess. 
Arcadia is at the centre of the mountainous Peloponnesus, 
and yet to this heart of the Highlands of Greece came from 
opposite quarters the same eastern and alien goddess. The 

1 Brother Stephen of Lusignan in the very much fuller French version 
published by himself of his villainously printed Chorograffia et breve 
historia universale dell isola di Cipro princ ipiando al tempo di Nocperin- 
sino al 1572, per il R. P. Lettore Fr. Stephano Lusignano di Cipro dell 
ordine de Predicatori. Bologna, 1573. For a further account of this 
book see Appendix VIII. 


temple at Tegea was founded from Cyprus (Paphos) l in the 
East, whereas in the opposite and north-western corner of 
Arcadia a temple of Aphrodite was founded in the inacces 
sible district of Psophis, and founded too from what then 
were the uttermost parts of the West. The Psophidian 
temple was due to the zeal of worshippers of the goddess 
at the ancient shrine on Mount Eryx, in north-western 
Sicily. 2 A third Phoenician foundation (where recent 
diggings 3 have discovered next to nothing at all) was far 
nearer to the heart of Greece than eastern Paphos or 
western Eryx, the island of Cythera from which Aphro 
dite drew one of her sweetest names, Cytherea. 4 Strange to 

1 Paus. VIII. liii. 3 ; cf. ibid. v. 2. 

2 Paus. VIII. xxiv. i and 6. 

3 These were made with his accustomed skill by Dr. Schliernann. 

4 This epithet of Aphrodite has had a surprising effect upon the 
beautiful name of that beautiful corner of Cyprus named Cythrea. Brother 
Stephen of Lusignan and many others transform it by a slight change in 
its last syllable but one into Cythera. A more forbidding spot, Mount 
Cithaeron, has also attempted to usurp the place of Cythera in Aphrodite s 
affections (cf. Bartolommeo da li Sonetti on Cythera). See Boccaccio s 
Teseide, VII. stanza 43. 

O bella Iddea del gran Vulcano Sposa 
Per cui s allegra il monte Citerone. 

This is reproduced by Chaucer, Knight s Tale, 1363, 

Fairest of faire, o lady myn Venus, 
Daughter of Jove and spouse to Vulcanus, 
Thou goddess of the mount of Citheroun. 

Again Dryden, in his Palamon and Arcite, following Chaucer, gives a de 
scription of beautiful paintings where the Cithaeron again does duty for 

For there th Idalian Mount and Citheron, 
The court of Venus, was in colours drawn. 

Last of all, in a recent writer we find the old confusion reasserting itself in 
a description of Paris society : "It was a charming world of fancy and 
caprice ; a world of milky clouds floating in an infinite azure, and bearing 
a mundane Venus to her throne on a Frenchified Cithaeron." It is need 
less to say that no place less belongs to Venus Aphrodite than the gloomy 
wilderness of Boeotian Cithaeron where the Maenads tore Pentheus in 
pieces, and whither Oedipus was sent as a babe to be exposed. 


say, there is no record of any considerable influence exer 
cised from Cythera upon the worship of Aphrodite in 
Greece. From the West, beyond the foundation at Psophis 
and some probable influence upon Greeks in Sicily, little 
or no influence reached Greece, and therefore Paphos in 
Cyprus was the centre of the worship of Grecian Aphrodite, 
first and last. 

Accordingly, if we would come under the Grecian spell 
of Phoenician Aphrodite, we must leave Greece proper and 
go to the southward Cyprus, which is neither in Europe 
nor in Asia ; neither of the East nor of the West ; not 
Greek nor yet Phoenician. There we must go from the 
harbour of Limassol by the shortest road to Old Paphos, 
for although not wholly Greek and not wholly Phoenician, 
Aphrodite is Paphian l always and entirely. 

Let us approach the island and the way from Limassol 
to Paphos with no undue anticipations. Rifled tombs, 
broken fragments, foundations half effaced are the reward 
which students of Cypriote antiquity chiefly receive. Bear 
ing this in mind, we may well linger a moment, when we 
are four miles from Limassol on the road to Old Paphos, at 
Colossi to admire a splendid square castle, 2 not utterly ruined 
as yet. Here the Knights Commanders dwelt for many 
years. 3 

1 Od. viii. 363, Horn. Hymn, iv. 59 ff. ; Eurip. Bacch. 385 and 406, etc. 

2 See a photograph of it published by the Hellenic Society, Appendix 
XI. i. 89. 

3 Nothing seems to me more discouraging than the attempt to photo 
graph, or rather to orthograph, the shades of popular mispronunciation 
where a name has its established form. Accordingly, I adhere with M. de 
Mas Latrie to Colossi, leaving others to choose between Colossois and 
Colossin. The mystifying name of Colossi given as Colosso on the un 
published map made by Leonida Attar in 1542, and now in the Museo 
Correr at Venice is said to derive from the Colossos of Rhodes. 
This may be the case, but the name certainly has nothing whatever to do 
with the Rhodian Knights Hospitallers, through whom Colossi became 


The character of the coast-shapes and landscapes as you 
journey on past Colossi to Old Paphos is noteworthy, 
because of a contrast with what comes when Paphos is 
reached. Around the monastery of St. Nicholas on the 
promontory of Curias, before Colossi is reached may be 
found vast low-lying areas close to the beach of the sea. 
Here the strangest shapes may be seen fashioned out of 
very soft limestone by the action of the rains sometimes, 
and sometimes of the waves. Vast arches reach out to dim 
and shapeless buttresses, while the sea dashes up under the 
arch and often covers wholly its seaward support. This is 
nature s architecture, and the like of it may be seen in 
various lands, as, for instance, on the Californian coast near 
Santa Cruz. So friable is the limestone of Cyprus that it 

famous. The Knights Templars had the whole of Cyprus for part of a 
year, built the cathedral at Nicosia in part, and made strong castles 
at Larnaca and elsewhere, but they never held Colossi. Before its 
grant to the Knights of Rhodes, a Frenchman named Nicholas Garin 
owned it, and he adopted from it the feudal title of Garin de Kolossi 
or du Colos. The only analogy that suggests itself to confirm the 
derivation from the Colossus is an insufficient one. Padre Coronelli s 
book on Morea and Negroponte has on its title-page "Si vende alia 
Libreria del Colosso sul Ponte di Rialto." Nicolas Garin may after all 
have got the title " Du Colos" by trade associations, and then have 
named his estate in order to derive a feudal title from it. After 
purchasing all outstanding rights, Hugues I. of Lusignan was the 
final grantor to the Knights of these estates in entirety, his father 
or uncle having already given some portions. The Hospitallers finally 
appointed a commandery for Colossi, and made it the centre of manage 
ment for all their rich possessions in the island. These they held for 
three centuries until the Turks came in 1571. The Sultan appropriated 
most of the Hospitallers lands. He had good reason to covet Colossi, for 
its commandery wine so called from the Knights and their commandery 
(preceptorery was the earlier polysyllable) still enjoys a well-deserved 
celebrity. To be sure it is now made unpalatable to some by the tarred 
skins which serve for bottles. On this subject see Gaudry, Recherches, p. 
330. See also in Mr. Lang s Cyprus , chap. ix. , where he speaks of the 
Commanderia wine as used in France and Italy. Whoever has tasted a 
good old vintage of this wine will rejoice that Madeira has been restocked 
since \hephylloxera from the district of Colossi. Nothing more like Madeira 
exists than the wine of Colossi. 


seems ever ready to vanish away. There is, in fact, a 
melting process continually in progress all over the island. 
Hence vast caves near the earth s surface which invited the 
successive occupants of Cyprus to use them for places of 
burial. 1 Hence also the habit of hollowing out in the 
willing stone all manner of tombs and passages leading 
from subterranean vault to hidden chamber. The ground 
of Cyprus sounds hollow everywhere under the hoofs of the 
mules, the whole landscape sometimes seeming but a mask 
covering over the bones of men long dead. 

Close to Colossi and the castle of the Knights Com 
manders is Episcopia or Piscopia, associated with a branch 
of the Venetian Cornaro family and with one of Titian s 
masterpieces. 2 But it is time to draw near to Paphos, which 
is after all only a day s journey on muleback from Limassol. 
As we approach, the limestone hills cover themselves with a 
brighter green. Near Pissouri and Old Paphos, now called 
Couclia, are sudden whims in the surface of the soil. Green 
slopes lead more or less precipitously downward, sometimes 
to a field shaped like an amphitheatre, sometimes to a 
meadow nearly square. These lower places cover them 
selves with shrubs, and if the early day brought showers, as 
it did when we were riding that way, the golden slanting 
sun of eventide shoots pleasantly through their dripping 
leafage, making them sparkle, as it were, with the winning 
smile of golden Aphrodite. Cheered by this glimmering 
show of welcome, we turned around the jutting foot of a 
wooded hill, and came upon the last stream to be forded 

1 More than once I have seen daylight at the farther end of a cave 
near the top of a ridge, which had evidently been melting away by this 
process. These caves are often used for sheep-folds, which go by the old 
name of mandra. 

2 In the Frari Church at Venice. 



that day. Then in a half-ruined castle called the Tschiflik 
or farmstead, which surmounted the upward swerve of the 
Paphian hill, we were most warmly welcomed by the English 
excavators, already beginning to wind up their business at 
Paphos, and preparing to hand over the site to the charge 
of Government. 

The next morning we had before us the site of the temple 
of Aphrodite at Old Paphos, discovered and fully under 
stood for the first time since the day when St. Barnabas l 
called down upon it the wrath of heaven, and by a judgment 
of earthquake and fire put an end to many abominations. 
To discover precisely what earthquake the saint inflicted 
would be vain ; there have been so many before and since 
upon this luckless spot. 2 There is no lack of founders and 
builders for this home of Paphian Aphrodite ; they are as 
numerous almost as are the writers who tell of the temple s 

1 The martyrdom of St. Barnabas took place in Cyprus. See in John 
Meursius 1 unpublished MS. revision of his well-known book on Cyprus, 
a note which refers to this at the end of chap. v. in book II. : Nee fecit 
tantum martyres Cyprus, sed et dedit. In his erat Barnabas apostolus 
de quo dixi. 

2 There was a serious earthquake here under Augustus, in the twenty- 
seventh year of his reign, cf. Eusebius copied by Abbas Uspergensis and 
Marianus Scotus. Meursius, Cyp. II. xx. and I. xviii., quotes Seneca, Epist. 
xci., Nat. Quaest. vi. 26, and also Sibylline oracles, III. and IV. Under 
Vespasian, in the ninth year of his reign, three towers of the temple fell. 
Hieronymus (note on the lost text of Eusebius, lib. II. Chron. given by Meur 
sius, I. xviii. ) quotes Bartholomaeus Saligniacus,//z ^rar?V iv. cap. 6 : Paphos 
ruinis plena videtur, templis tamen frequens. This is a century after the 
Acts, where see chap. xiii. ; see also Bede on the Acts. Fortunately of 
late years there has been a cessation. In 1830 the unlucky Dr. Ludwig Ross 
was badly shaken while in Cyprus, and has given an account of the adven 
ture. He was at Dalin at the time, and he says: "Am andern Morgen 
(February 21) erwachte ich schon um fiinf Uhr durch ein langes an- 
haltendes Erdbeben das mit leisen zitternden Schwingungen anfing und mit 
einer heftigen Erschiitterung endigte, und dessen ganze Dauer wohl eine 
halbe Minute betrug. " Later, while at Hieroskipou (Strabo s lepoK-rjiria ; 
see Hogarth s Devia Cypria, p. 41), two miles east of New Paphos, he 
says: "iiberhaupt soil dieser Theil der Insel bis Limissos den Erdstossen 
sehr ausgesetzt sein." 


foundation. The first builders up of the Paphian sanctuary 
appear, in fact, to have been as plentiful as the earthquakes 
that shook the temple down. 

With the legendary name of Cinyras the most widely 
recognised of these first founders connects itself the 
Eastern pedigree of Aphrodite. Aphrodite came originally 
from Assyria, and it is therefore no surprise to hear from 
one source that Cinyras, usually regarded as from Syria, was 
king of the Assyrians. This wonderful Cinyras was the 
great ancestor of the priestly family or guild that long ruled 
over the district and sanctuary at Old Paphos. The collec 
tive name applied here was that of the Cinyradae or de 
scendants of Cinyras. The most interesting of the sons of 
Cinyras is the beautiful and ill-fated Adonis, who, among 
other things, 1 is the Assyrian Tammuz brought to the western 
coasts of Syria and Phoenicia. In various legends this son 
of Cinyras, Tammuz-Adonis, plays the part of Dionysus and 
Persephone in one. Around him gather the sorrow and the 
joy of the yearly death and yearly revival of nature s growth. 

The beautiful legend of Aphrodite s love for Adonis 
how he was wounded when engaged in the chase, and how 
Aphrodite, filled with grief on hearing the sad tidings, 
made haste to the Idalian fields of Cyprus and found there 
her dying love appears to be a story of later growth. 
It was connected with the inland sanctuary of Aphrodite 
in Cyprus, having little or nothing to do with Old Paphos. 
Amathus, the third Cyprian centre for the goddess s worship, 
was, like Old Paphos, on the sea coast. There, we hear, 
was a temple where Aphrodite was worshipped in common 

1 I am well aware that it is quite possible to bear too exclusively in 
mind the eastern affinities of Adonis. He is as close to the Phrygian 
worship of Atthis and Cybele as he is to the Phoenician Ishtar and Tammuz, 
closer perhaps. 


with Adonis, the two forming a godhead, both male and 
female. Perhaps this dual worship at Amathus was of 
distinctly Phoenician origin, and it is possible that the Adonis 
of Amathus was an earlier aspect nearer to what is found 
in the annals of Ninivite religion of the charming and 
tragical Tammuz-Adonis. 

But the father of Adonis, Cinyras, is by no means 
disposed of in the slight mention made above. Pindar 
speaks of " Cinyras whom the golden-haired Apollo dearly 
loved, the dutiful servant of Aphrodite." The men of 
Cyprus, so Pindar says, were never tired of telling various 
stories about Cinyras. This native tendency to tell any 
thing that came into your head about Cinyras maintained 
itself even till late Christian days. Malevolence and 
fanaticism then combined with a justified reprobation of 
Paphian licentiousness to frame a story that Aphrodite 
was only a criminally beloved paramour of Cinyras. In 
honour of this mortal and misguided woman Cinyras 
built a temple at Old Paphos, where her tomb and his are 
still shown to-day. The only religious fact to be derived 
from this story is an important one, as will appear later, 
i.e. that in the precinct of Paphian Aphrodite at Old Paphos 
the tomb 1 of that goddess and of Cinyras were con 

In giving some idea of the medley of legends and tales 
that centred about the name of Cinyras we must resign 
all hope of gaining a consistent idea of his personality. 
Avalanches of mythology have swept down upon him from 
all quarters, so that he is but a remembered name and not 

1 On the various aspects of the Greek Aphrodite that make of her a 
goddess of the land of the dead, see Dr. W. H. Roscher, in his own 
Ausfurliches Lexicon, p. 402. 


a person. He is connected with the Trojan war, during which 
he was king of Cyprus. Thus Homer s conception of him 
lends him no preternatural powers, no divine attributes. 
He was Agamemnon s distant admirer and benefactor who 
sent him armour : 

Tidings he heard in Cyprus and fame that Achaeans 
Planned to set sail in their ships for Troy and its capture, 
Wherefore he gave the breastplate in order to please Agamem 

All this is creditable, but the tale which arose shortly 
after Homer s day was less creditable to Cinyras heart 
than to his head. Bound by oath to supply a certain 
number of ships against Troy, the crafty Paphian monarch 
did supply just the number promised ; only, as their size 
and equipment were not nominated in the bond, it pleased 
his royal thriftiness to send ships of microscopic dimensions 
fashioned out of clay. 1 

But after all the real Cinyras, founder of Old Paphos, 
lived long before the Trojan war, and was far more than 
the obsequious admirer of Agamemnon, far higher minded 
than this crafty evader of the solemn terms of a treaty. 
Ages before the Trojan war he lived, first founder, priest, 
and king, not only of the sanctuary of Aphrodite in Old 
Paphos, but of one at Byblus in Syria Byblus, where the 
goddess was revered, as at Paphos, under the form of a 
cone of white stone. 2 Byblus is quite as closely identified 
in fact with the goddess in the history of Syrian religion, 
as is Paphos in that of Greek religion. A name well known 

1 Probably some primitive record of ritual observance lurks beneath 
this pointless tale. 

2 Maximus Tyrius, Dissert, viii. 7 : ITa0/ois i] ^v AQpodirr) raj 

j,a OUK &v et/cd<7<us AXXy Tip ?) \evKrj, i] 8t 


of us all, that of Pygmalion, is connected with Cinyras. The 
two were kinsmen; and their bond of kinship, so far as 
mythology has worked it out, consisted in their both being 
originators of skilled processes in the various arts that adorn 
the mind and the life of man. Both play a Promethean 
part in dowering mankind. Cinyras, for instance, invented 
mining, bricks, and various agricultural implements, 1 and 
Pygmalion became celebrated for his skill in sculpture. 

Cinyras is so closely identified with Cyprus, in spite of the 
tie binding him to Byblus, that he is spoken of as coming 
from almost every country which contributed to the early 
peopling of the island. He was from Cilicia as well as 
from Syria and Assyria, and he was beloved of Aphrodite. 
This glory he shared in legend with Adonis, and is half 
identified with him. Apollo delighted in him, and yet 
there was a rivalry in musical performances wherein Cinyras 
taking for the nonce the role of Marsyas in the Thraco- 
Phrygian story 2 was worsted by his protector Apollo. 

As for this musical episode in his career, it has a greater 
importance, some think, than would casually be attached to 
it. The theory is that the name Cinyras thinly disguises 
that of a musical instrument, associated with the royal 
founder and priest of Old Paphos. This name and the 
proverbial wealth of a Midas, along with the story of his 
birth in Cilicia, have attached themselves to him from 
Asia Minor, the land of the Phrygian flute and the home 
of soft Lydian airs. 

If it were possible to unravel aright all the legends of 
Cinyras, the whole early and unknown history of Cyprus 

1 Tegulas invenit Cinyras . . . et metalla aeris, utrumque in insula 
Cypro, item forcipem, martulum, vectem, incudem [Pliny, Nat. Hist. 
vii. 195). 2 See p. 92 above. 


might be understood. For just as the three touches above 
mentioned come from Asia Minor, so from Phoenicia in 
part, and largely again from Phrygia in Asia Minor, comes 
his close connection with Adonis. As the case stands we 
have only the tantalising satisfaction of knowing how many 
and of what divergent origin were the threads that time 
and the fruitful invention of story-tellers and poets have 
woven into the variegated yarns concerning Cinyras. Let 
the whole of them serve as a background for the worship 
and the presence of the goddess Aphrodite at Old Paphos. 
Let us fling upon the throne of Paphian Aphrodite the 
richly variegated web of early legends, and then when she 
shall have taken her seat, and with smiles shall be admiring 
her own loveliness in an upraised mirror-disc, we may call 
to her as burning Sappho called of old, " Immortal Aphro 
dite throned in many hues." 1 The hues lent by early 
legend are always pure of quality and soft in tone, and even 
Aphrodite s beauty is enhanced by them. 

Now that we know the worst and the best of the first 
founder of the Paphian temple of Paphian Aphrodite, let us 
look at the site 2 where he builded her temple of old. He 
built it, after the manner of the Assyrians and Phoenicians, 
in a high place. The hill of Old Paphos is distant about 
one mile from the sea. Half of this mile is taken up by a 
gradual slope from the hill s summit to its base. The sea 
lies south-west of the temple-site, and in the far distance, at 
the end of a gradual but constant upheaval of range upon 
range of hills, rise the heights around Mount Troodos, itself 
not visible from here. 

dOdvar A0p65tra. 
2 For a detailed account of the remains there discovered, see Appendix 
VI. below. 


A gentle slope,- strewn with bits of limestone ranging in 
colour from yellow to gray ; close to its brow a small and 
uncleanly village, on the east and west of which are the 
beds of inconsiderable streams, such is the Paphian site, 
and such the modern village of Couclia (Couvocles in Old 
French). The prevailing tint in early May, when we visited 
it, was a yellow which might have verged towards brown 
had it not been for a spare crop of grain that invisibly 
warmed the surface tint. The curious eye peering eastward 
is rewarded by a vision of palms. These and the peculiarly 
picturesque discomfort of the squalid village houses assure 
you that you are neither in England nor in New England. 

Just here the friable limestone, beaten on other coasts 
near by into fantastic cliff- shapes, takes unnoticeable 
rounded forms or clothes itself with soil. A stretch of 
fertile bottomland reaches from the foot of the Paphian hill 
south-westward to the strand of the sea. At a distance of 
about three hundred yards from the water s edge there is a 
drop of ten feet, and again at half that distance a second 
drop of about the same number of feet. Thus was the 
sheer rock rounded and the higher reach of meadow-land 
terraced down to the verge of the sea for a gradual ascent 
to the high place of Aphrodite at Old Paphos. Across 
this green and flower-strewn meadow-carpet moved the new 
born goddess from the surface of the wave. Thither, says 
Hesiod, she had been gently borne drifting eastward from 
Cythera ; or, as others might say, westward from Syria. 
Whichever of these directions is assigned to the coming of 
the goddess, one detail all legends have in common, i.e. 
that Aphrodite was born here in Cyprus, and her name is 
Cypris or Cyprogeneia Cyprus-born. 

As a Greek goddess, swaying the gods on Olympus 


and ruling according to her good pleasure the hearts of 
all mortals, Aphrodite was born at Paphos in Cyprus. 
Speculations about her history before her birth at Paphos 
did not enter into the devout minds of her worshippers. 
For them she was what the unhappy Phaedra calls her, 
Cyprian Aphrodite of the sea Cypris Pontia. Nor was this 
Paphian birth without an enormous influence upon the 
larger world outside of Greece. There was a something in 
the Paphian Aphrodite that her eastern original lacked, and 
this something can by a process of exclusion be proved to 
have been a distinctively Greek aspect of her divinity. 
Aphrodite s birth at Paphos made her at last accessible to 
purely Greek influences, and qualified her to play a great 
part in the religious history of the world. It was perhaps a 
misfortune that Greek influences never wholly divorced her 
from the manners and customs that finally attached to her 
in the East, as a Syrian and Phoenician divinity. At all 
events much that was outrageously gross and uncivilising 
in her latter-day worship at Corinth and elsewhere in Greece 
is traceable to the direct influences exercised from the East 
by her later and unclean worship there. We can, therefore, 
agree with a gifted American scholar, 1 who, under the 
happy inspiration of words associated with Plato s name, 2 
has said that "the Greek received nothing from the East 
that he did not make doubly his by the beauty with which 
he invested it, and the Aphrodite Urania is as far above the 
Oriental personification of the conceptive principle of nature, 
as the graceful image of Venus issuing from the shell . . . 
excels the clumsy merman Dagon whose hands and feet 

1 Essays and Studies, by Basil Lanneau Gildersleeve, 1890. 

2 Epinomis, 487 E, 6n Trep &v "EXX^i/es fiapfiapuv Trapa\df3w(ri, /caX- 
\Lov TOVTO eis rcXos 


were cut off upon the threshold of his temple when he lay a 
prostrate deformity before the ark of the Lord at Ashdod." 

The something which stamps Aphrodite as a specifically 
Greek version of the often perverted Eastern goddess is 
certainly that which made her admirable above her eastern 
originals, and secured her the adoration of all the world. 1 
The Greek strain in Paphian Aphrodite is almost at war 
with the sombre jealousy which never really left her because 
it attached itself to her Assyrian nativity. Greece gave to 
her a fresh and breezy sanity and an inborn grace that 
Euripides describes so perfectly, calling her peerless among 
the gods in just this her quality of qualities. Eucharis^ he 
calls her, gently, sweetly, gracefully charming. She had, as 
Euripides worshipped her, beyond all other goddesses the 
charm that wins and never loses, the grace that woos and 
wearies not, the beauty that waxes and never wanes, the 
smile that attaches and never repels. 

Somewhere Euripides describes the only ray of hope 
left to lighten the darkness of despair as the Aphrodite 
of woes. That hold upon hope and help which leads 
a man in the midst of desperate flames to wait one 
precious moment longer before he flings himself head 
long to destruction is the Aphrodite of his woeful state, 
whose power subdues the wildness of sudden impulse 
and saves his life. Here is the Aphrodite Sosandra, 
rescuer of men, the Notre Dame de Bon Secours, wor 
shipped on the Athenian Acropolis, where her statue by 

1 The very transformation in meaning which Aphrodite s epithet Urania 
underwent before our very eyes, so to speak, is full of the Greek spirit which 
purified and ennobled. Herodotus identifies Aphrodite -Urania with 
Mylitta (i. 131 and 199), with whose coarse rites Plato s Urania has 
nothing in common. The real equivalent of Mylitta, so far as these rites 
go, would be Aphrodite Pandemos. See Robert s Preller, pp. 354 ff. 


Calamis cheered and uplifted the sinking hearts of those 
who came to worship. Hers was a graciousness so bountiful 
and subtly winning that its spell cannot and never will be 
broken. To this degree of spiritual nobility had the Greeks 
at Athens in their pious meditations brought the charm of 
Aphrodite, known in simpler Homer s day as her charmed 
girdle, of which he says : 

Broidered and fashioned therein were all means of enchant 

Love-longing was there and commerce of love, and there was 
love s chatter, 

Words and cajolements that steal away wits, even men s that 
are wisest. 

The almost wholly physical charm of her Cestus was not, 
as Homer conceived it, absolutely inseparable from Aphro 
dite. She alone possessed it, but if she chose she could 
lend it, and so it was that Hera borrowed it of her. On 
the other hand, the later and more spiritual charm which 
shone through disasters and rescued sorrowing men was 
inseparable from her. No goddess, not even Hera, Queen 
of Olympus, could borrow this, or rescue as she could by 
the gracious subtlety of her smiling love. Not Euripides 
only but Pindar the sublime saw and spoke of the pecu 
liarly Greek quality in Aphrodite. Only Pindar, as in so 
many other cases, beheld the more solemn and serious 
aspect of this great truth. That principle of measure and 
retributive compensation which bids despair despair not, 
but lures a desperate man to hope, revealing in the very 
presence of woe glimpses of grace and showing the face of 
joy to come assumes another and more solemn guise when 
men are glad and fortune favours them. A pang there is 
in fullest moments of supreme joy which prompts us to 


beware, a sense of penalties to come which visits him 
whose joy might grow excessive, and whose pleasures make 
him lose the consciousness of duty to be done. This throb 
of pain in pleasure s midst, this pausing in mid-course of 
the forward fling of gladness, is perhaps but the negative 
pole that should be coupled with the saving graciousness of 
Aphrodite Sosandra s smile. She saves man from himself 
both in sorrow and in joy. And so Pindar, in his ninth 
Pythian ode, agrees with Euripides, telling how " Silver-foot 
Aphrodite tempered the loves of Apollo and Cyrene with 
awe," with a sense of some limit not to be exceeded. This 
awe-struck sense of shame at the thought of too great excess 
Pindar has called Aidos, and Euripides has personified the 
impulses which violate it in speaking of 

Eager Loves that past all measure fling. 

From these the chorus of women in the Medea of Euripides 
beg Aphrodite to deliver them. They pray to her for 
deliverance from jealousy such as has devastated Medea s 
life and happiness. They beseech her to " choose with 
critic glance " the " wedded happiness of women." 

And so, with all the purity of her natal element, Aphro 
dite rises up before the high moods of imaginative medita 
tion vouchsafed to Euripides and to Pindar. Yet Euripides 
does not forget her original function as a nature-goddess, 
as another beautiful song from his Medea well shows : 

Cypris, when from fair Cephissus downward streaming 


Draughts of water, so tis said, to quaff she sometime drew. 
Breathed adown the countryside blithe winds that softly blew, 
Crowned her locks with roses red that sweetest perfume 

Sent to second wisdom, Loves all righteousness to save. 


These are some of the higher notes, the more purely 
Grecian, and therefore the more beautiful and nobler 
aspects which made the cult of Aphrodite, when it spread 
over all the Roman world, a benefit to civilisation. Would 
that only her nobler part had ever found allegiance in the 
pagan world. For better for worse, for richer or for poorer, 
the Roman Emperors took Venus Aphrodite as their own 
and made her mistress of the world. Their veneration sprang 
from no idealised adoration of the highest range of inspira 
tion derivable from her, they were prompted rather by con 
siderations heraldic, genealogical, and theological. It was 
therefore not purely an accident that made Caesar s watch 
word on the field of Pharsalia "Venus victrix," for such an 
accident, without being deeply significant, reveals the presence 
of Aphrodite in the thoughts of those who fashioned Rome. 

This being the case, it is no matter of surprise that one 
of the very noblest and broadest conceptions of the goddess 
in the plenitude of her imperial power should be that of a 
Roman poet, Lucretius. For him she is more than the 
source of all joy on earth and in heaven. She is the 
principle of life ; without her earth can have no flowers, the 
woods can have no foliage, and the birds sing only at her 
will. " Without thee," he cries, " nothing that is can ever 
attain existence." 

This is really not very far from that simple and touching 
conception which was the very primal foundation of immor 
tality for the goddess Venus Aphrodite, the pure and noble 
delineation of the Assyrian goddess Ishtar in a poem far older 
than that of Roman Lucretius. This poem was found stamped 
upon tablets of burned clay in the library of Sardanapalus 
or Assurbanipal at Niniveh. The goddess left this upper 
earth to seek among the dead below her Tammuz dearly 


loved and lately lost. No sooner had the wondrous Ishtar 
disappeared from earth than life in the upper air was 
brought to a pause, and the most unspeakable distress 
made the whole universe wail and faint. Ishtar, waiting at 
the dust-bestrewn portals of Urugal, laments her case in the 
most exquisite strains of the old Assyrian poem : 

All love from earthly life with me departed, 

With me to tarry in the gates of death . . . 

And chilled shall cheerless men now draw slow breath. 

I left in sadness life which I had given, 

I turned from gladness and I walked with woe. 

I search for Tammuz, whom harsh fate laid low. 

The darkling pathway o er the restless waters 
Of seven seas that circle death s domain 
I trod, and followed after earth s sad daughters 
Torn from their loved ones and ne er seen again. 

Here must I enter in, here make my dwelling 
With Tammuz in the mansion of the dead, 
Driven to Tammuz house by love compelling, 
And hunger for the sight of that dear head. 

O er husbands will I weep, whom death has taken, 
Whom fate in manhood s strength from life has swept, 
Leaving on earth their living wives forsaken, 
O er them with groans shall bitter tears be wept. 

And I will weep o er wives, whose short day ended 
Ere in glad offspring joyed their husbands eyes ; 
O er them shall tearful lamentations rise. 

And I will weep o er babes who left no brothers, 
Young lives to the ills of age by hope opposed, 
One moment s life by death unending closed. 1 

1 For a more complete version of this with others, made from a literal 
version of the cuneiform text kindly supplied me by my friend and former 
colleague Dr. Lyon, see The Story of Assyria, where the gifted author, 
Mme. Ragozin, does me the honour of printing my versions in an appendix. 


Here is a large and oriental luxury of grief, a tragedy and 
mystery of woe which is ill suited to the smiling Aphrodite 
of the Greeks, and which stirs far deeper down the hearts 
of men than even the Venus-Aphrodite of Lucretius. 1 The 
truth is that there is no parallel easily found to the tragical 
shudder that runs through every line of this Assyrian poem. 
Among Greek divinities Demeter 2 rather than Aphrodite 
represents this utterness of woe and this fulness of heart- 
sympathy for the calamities of others. 

The goddess Demeter even, when sorrow had all but 
slain immortality within her, was rescued by the gracious 
promise of hope in Aphrodite s smile ; and this may justify 
us in maintaining once more that the Greek conception of 
Aphrodite was that of a consoling goddess, the enemy of 
despair, the harbinger of joys unlocked for, and the moder 
ator of unruly pleasures. 

This noble and consoling figure has dominated the 
destinies of nations since history began. Arising among 
the unknown tribes of Accad in the far-off east, she was 
honoured and worshipped at Niniveh and Babylon, at Tyre 
and Sidon and Carthage. Before the taint of monstrous 
licentiousness had brought corruption upon her, she found 

1 To this extent and in this sense I should incline to dissent from Pro 
fessor Gildersleeve, who says, the worship of Aphrodite is no less pro 
found while it is infinitely more graceful than the Oriental." With the 
latter part of this I agree too thoroughly to be able to subscribe to the 
former. Demeter s awkward and mysterious strains go together, and both 
of them make her the Greek equivalent of the tragic Ishtar who laments 
for Tarn muz. 

2 Euripides, in the Helena, almost seems to have the Assyrian poem 
before him in his beautiful song of the sorrows of Demeter-Cybele, who 
falls fainting and lifeless on the snowdrifts of mountains in Asia, fainting 
and lifeless because she finds not Persephone. The earth meanwhile is 
stricken with barrenness. Until the Graces and Aphrodite sought her 
there and ministered to her, there was no fruitfulness, no springs would 
flow, and feasting fled from earth and forsook the gods even. 


from the purifying sea a new birth, and came to her rising 
in Greece from Cyprian Paphos. When the power of self- 
repression, with which the nobler thought of Greece asso 
ciated Aphrodite, began to falter and fail, Rome saved the 
sea-born goddess and her higher worship. Indeed the 
Roman Mother Venus of Virgilian song was as intensely 
kind, as irresistibly winning, as that most primally and 
exclusively Greek goddess the darling daughter of Zeus 
and Dione, the slender maid 1 who was worshipped and 
feared by Sappho. Nor does the broader and more mature 
as well as more oriental conception of Paphian Aphrodite, 
into which this goddess of Sappho was finally merged, reach 
quite the heights and depths of the all-nourishing mother 
Venus to whom Lucretius makes melodious prayer. 

Perhaps the poor Cypriote papissa or priest s wife was 
not wrong in correcting the learned Ludwig Ross. He 
spoke to her of a sanctuary of Aphrodite. " No," she said, 
" not Aphroditissa ; it is the Holy Chrysopolitissa." 2 To her 
is sacred a church on Aphrodite s Hill of Old Paphos. The 
Mother of God surnamed the Golden has taken the place 
once filled by Homer s golden Aphrodite. 

fj-arep, OVTOL Kpticrjv TOV icrrov 

See Euripides, Helena, 1098 : K6pr] AIWPTJS K^TT/H, ^77 p 

ray>a TT]V \a\ov<ri Xpvcro- 


THE irregular trapezium l which the temple and its con 
tiguous buildings once occupied lies at some distance a 
stone s throw, be it said from the brow of the hill. Be 
fore this trapezium area is reached you come upon the 
most remarkable remains upon the site. I cannot describe 
these better than in the words of Mr. R. Elsey Smith. 2 
" Starting from the south-west corner, and examining the 
walls in detail as proposed, we find first of all a very large 
massive wall extending for some eighty-five feet in a nearly 
northerly direction, with a short return at the south end. 
It consists of a basement of polygonal blocks mostly of 
massive proportions brought to a fairly even face, and with 
a carefully wrought and levelled upper bed, on which rests 
a series of magnificent rectangular blocks, the largest of 
which measures seven feet by over fifteen. These blocks 
are of limestone, and have been laid with their beds 
vertical, so that they have suffered severely from the effects 

1 Excavations in Cyprus (1887-1888), reprinted from the Journal of 
Hellenic Studies (1888). See pp. 58 and ff. , where Mr. Ernest Gardner 
conclusively disposes of all plans previously published, and clearly sets 
forth Mr. Elsey Smith s plan in connection with ancient authorities and 
coins. For my own detailed account of the site and of Cesnola s so-called 
plan, see Nation (Sept. 6 and 13, 1888). 

a Ibid. See Mr. Elsey Smith s discussion of his own plan in the Journal 
of Hellenic Studies as cited above. The plan is by his kind permission 
here reproduced. 



of weather. The stones both of the basement and upper 
parts of the wall are pierced with holes for the purpose of 
hauling them ; the larger stones have two holes, but some 
of the smaller ones are pierced with a single hole only. 
In the upper stones these holes run from the vertical face at 
one end in a quadrant form up and down to the upper and 
lower beds of the stone ; in the basement stones, which of 
course were below the pavement level, these holes generally 
run from the face backward to the vertical joints. " 

This remarkable and puzzling remnant is undoubtedly, 
Mr. Elsey Smith and all others conclude, the oldest feature 
discoverable at Couclia. Curiously enough it contains the 
only evidence upon the whole site that there was any door 
way in any particular place. The two socket -holes for 
door-posts have two steps leading down to them. This 
door was, however, much less than ten feet wide from post 
to post, and can hardly have been the principal entrance 
to any court, such as Mr. Elsey Smith thinks was possibly 
enclosed by this the oldest structure at Old Paphos. 1 The 
piercings in these huge monoliths are said strongly to 
resemble what is discoverable upon the site of temples 
presumably of Phoenician origin on the island of Malta. 
Among the ruins of Sicilian Selinus, which was, like Old 
Paphos, a meeting ground for Greeks and Phoenicians in 
the earliest days, Ludwig Ross saw stones similarly pierced, 
and he attributed them to Phoenician workmanship. Can 
it be amiss to recall here the Phoenician method of pre 
paring for the building of walls, as reported in the account 
of the building of Solomon s temple ? 

"And the house when it was in building was built of 
stone made ready before it was brought thither ; so that 
there was neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron 
heard in the house while it was in building." 

Piercings of some kind must have been made in the 

1 Of course the theory is that all traces of the main door have dis 
appeared. Wherever it was, it certainly was not the small door of which 
traces remain. 


quarry by Hiram s builders and stone squarers, otherwise it 
would not have been possible to transport huge blocks and 
put them in their place without leaving some projection 
upon the blocks, which must then have been removed upon 
the site itself by chiselling. This would have involved the 
sound of hammer, of axe, or some tool of iron. The 
Greek l way of getting stones in place was entirely different, 
since they had no objection to hammering on the site. They 
shaped the stones very accurately, but finished them only 
roughly in the quarry. The final smooth finish, together 
with the chiselling down of square projections left for a 
hold in transportation, was done when the walls were up. 
The first builders at Paphos, then, may have been Phoeni 
cians, since they probably used the methods of Hiram s 
builders, and not those of the Greeks. 

A change not only in the manner of building walls but 
in the way of finishing stones, and in the methods used 
for their transportation, took place among the workmen at 
Old Paphos before a stone of what became the temple of 
Aphrodite was laid. The proof of this is ready at hand in 
the remains of walls which are close to the supposably 
Phoenician work just described in detail. Here are marks 
(A) of an ancient reconstruction of parts of walls, and (B) 
of an addition made at the same ancient date. All these 
reconstructed parts including two rows of columns 
indicate a new manner of workmanship. "The stones 
employed," says Mr. Elsey Smith, 2 "are of smaller and 
more regular dimensions . . . and they are very evenly 
laid without mortar ; each stone has a broad draught along 
the upper edge, and down the two sides of its outer face, 

1 To understand this only a glance at the unfinished Propylaea of 
Mnesicles at Athens is needful. The downward (westerly) face of 
this building was so far finished that the square projections used for 
transport have been chiselled off, but the smooth chiselling of the outward 
surfaces has never been completed. The upward (easterly) face is left 
wholly unfinished, and is still covered with the curious square projections 
intact. See Appendix XI. i. 8 and 9. 

2 Journal of Hellenic Studies, 1888, p. 48, at the bottom. 


leaving a rough panel in the centre." 1 This rough dressing 
of the stone with a draught around the edge it commonly 
goes around the whole edge is a mark of workmanship 
which may have been Phoenician, and is probably not 
Greek. The other technical details, however, show a 
nearer approach to Greek workmanship. 

In these early walls of two kinds some discover an 
earlier temple which became in later and more magnificent 
days an appendage to the enlarged sanctuary : something 
which, for want of a better name, has been called the South 
Wing. The unmistakably unique and possibly Phoenician 
character of some of the walls here not unnaturally leads 
one to look for a parallel at the monuments in Phoenicia. 
Here is Professor Reber s brief description (taken from M. 
Renan s account of his expedition) of the " Snail s-Tower " 
at Marathus, the ancient Amrit, not far from the Byblus of 
which the Paphian Cinyras was the fabled king. This 
building, with four others, forms the most considerable mass 
of Phoenician work preserved in Phoenicia. The effect of 
them from afar is said to be very wonderful. A closer 
view shows a certain helpless heaviness that makes them 
less interesting. The " Snail s-Tower " is constructed out 
of huge square -hewn blocks of limestone. It is a cube 

i This rough dressing of the stone with a draught around the edge is 
known as Rustica, and has been supposed to be a mark of Phoenician work 
manship. But though such chiselling has been found in Phoenicia, it is 
also plentiful elsewhere and does not prove Phoenician handiwork here. 
Perhaps it is vain to seek any real knowledge of Phoenician buildings, or 
to identify anything as certainly Phoenician, outside of Phoenicia itself. 
Dr. Franz Reber has truly said in his Kunstgeschichte des Alterthums (p. 
134) that the characteristically Phoenician adornments of buildings, private 
and public, were of wood. The cedars of Lebanon were so near at hand. 
It is therefore possible since Cyprus of old abounded in forests that the 
first temple at Paphos was chiefly of wood. The tradition of abundant 
wood upon the island existed in 1532, when Ziegler wrote " Silvosa 
primitus fuit, sed quia metalli aeris ferax esset silva excisa in caminos et 
opera metalli campos aperuerunt arabiles. " Ortelius, 1573, gives Ammianus 
Marcellinus (book xiv. ) and other authorities for forests and shipbuilding in 
Cyprus. Evagoras and Conon both resorted to these forests for ship 
building, which must have had great importance from the end of the fifth 
century B.C. downward. 


eleven metres high and nine metres square, and there are 
traces of a pyramid that once surmounted this cube. Its 
hewn stones five metres in length longer, that is to say, than 
the longest of the pierced monoliths of the south wing at 
Paphos are treated in Rustica, like the later walls of the 
same south wing at Paphos. The " Snail s -Tower " has 
within it two mortuary chambers, and it was undoubtedly a 
tomb, as were also the four smaller buildings not far away. 
I venture to suggest that in these remarkably puzzling 
walls of the so-called south wing we may have the remains 
of one or more tombs built by the Phoenicians. These 
buildings were partly suggested by the pyramids of Egypt, 
no doubt ; the subterranean mortuary chambers hollowed 
out in the rock under all the great tombs at Marathus, 
excepting the " Snail s -Tower," are indeed an attempt to 
reproduce the conditions of the chamber of the dead in the 
bowels of the Egyptian pyramid. In the " Snail s-Tower " 
and if it be a tomb also at Paphos we have a departure 
from this type. The builders at last contented themselves 
with massively built chambers above ground. What leads 
me to think of the south wing here at Paphos as having 
possibly been a tomb is the matter-of-course way in which 
Clement of Alexandria, 1 quoting from the first book of a 
work by Ptolemy the son of Agesarchus, talks of the tombs 
of Cinyras and his descendants as being at Paphos within 
the precinct of Aphrodite. They are, he as much as says, 
well-known features of the sanctuary at Old Paphos. We 
need not, in spite of some traditions to that effect, assume 
a tomb of Aphrodite, but merely that there was at Paphos 
one tomb or several for the great king-priests of importance. 
But if Clement the Roman were taken literally in what he 
says of a tomb of Aphrodite at Old Paphos, 2 this might very 
well be paralleled by the statue of Aphrodite surnamed of 

1 Clemens Alexandrinus (Protrept. cap. iii. ad fin.} nToXe/Kuoy 3 6 
roO Ayrjffdpxov ev T Trpwro; r&v Trepi rbv ^lAoTrdro/xz ev IId0y X^*yei (v 
T$ TTJS A0po5tT77s tepy Hivvpav re Kal roi)s Kivupov airoybvovs KfKrjdfVffBai. 

2 HomiL v. 23. 


the tomb (riTv/i/?ta) l and the tomb of Chthonian Dionysus 
which were features of the great temple at Delphi. At 
Delphi the tomb of Dionysus was a half-understood relic 
of an order of worship long superseded. At Paphos the 
Phoenician-built tomb of Aphrodite would represent an 
early and perhaps a purely Phoenician phase of worship, 
and would commemorate the descent of Ishtar her death 

into Urugal. 

But now, if these oldest ruins are the remains of tombs, 
it is certainly time to turn to the temple itself, which is 
only a few steps north of the northernmost portion of the 
remains just mentioned. I have called the whole space 
occupied by the temple ruins, as Mr. Gardner does, an 
irregular trapezium. Its west and south sides measure 
220 feet, its east side 228 feet, and its north side 207 feet. 
This great quadrilateral enclosure is not rectangular, though 
the Romans, when they repaired and rebuilt it, did their 
best to make a rectangle out of it. Its eastern side con 
sisted of a range of chambers and a way out ; the whole of 
its northern side probably, and certainly the whole of its 
southern side, consisted of a long porch. 2 These porches, 
had their unmistakable traces not appeared, would have 
been suggested not only by what is known of cognate 
temples, but also by the heats of Cyprus. These impera 
tively demanded a shelter within the precinct for the pro 
cessions wearied by the long way from New Paphos. 3 
These considerations suggest that upon the remaining side 

the western one may also have been a portico. Un 
fortunately there are absolutely no remains of any kind 

1 Plutarch, Q. Rom. 23. The other Clement (of Alexandria), speak 
ing of the Argives, describes them as ol 

I use porch here, as in chap. vi. above, in the sense ot stoa or 

3 A remarkably interesting proof of the great good sense which guided 
the learned authors Perrot and Chipiez in their account of Paphos may be 
found in their statement that such porticoes were required upon the site. 
It is not often that subsequent excavations on a site bear such clear testi 
mony in favour of those who had to speak without all the facts. 







- Notes 
Portion of walls of periods earlier than. 

Roman existing in site 

Portion* of early walls supplied to complete 

existing fragments 

Portions of walla of Roman note existing 

tnsite _ r 

Pert ,3 of Rom-an walls suppftei to 
complete existing fragments 

Clst t Smith Hint. A Del. 1888 

To face page 310 


upon the western side, and, therefore, only the natural 
requirements of worshippers, and the not wholly convincing 
parallel of Solomon s temple, can be appealed to in favour 
of a porch or anything else. 1 With this general description 
of the temple after the excavation, let us compare what was 
supposed to be known before excavations took place. 
Professor Reber, with admirable judgment and brevity, says 
" Within a circular fence enclosure there was a group of 
buildings consisting of two lower wings overtopped by a 
higher central nave. The wings were supported by columns, 
perhaps they were porticoes. Two columns shaped like 
those of Egyptian architecture stood disengaged and un 
burdened. It is likely that these last had no architectural 
function, but were like Jachin and Boaz." These last, it 
will be remembered, were either in the front of or in front 
of the entrance to the Hebrew sanctuary. This whole 
description is based upon representations of the temple on 
coins and upon an intaglio. 

Excavation on the site has done away with the notion 
of a circular enclosure. The shape of the coin, Mr. 
Gardner suggests, left no choice to the artist. The 
quadrilateral court really has no curved lines on any of its 
sides. It is hard to determine the exact position of the 
sanctuary where was the pyramid of white stone worshipped 
at Paphos as at Byblus. It was in all probability one of 
the chambers built along the east side of the quadrilateral. 
Of these chambers three are now traceable, and strange 
to relate, by the side of the central one of these three is 
an open way out. This has been called the east entrance. 
North of this entrance are the north chambers, not sup 
posed by any one to have been the sanctuary. South of 
it is the central chamber, which was almost certainly the 
sanctuary in later Roman days, because in the open court 
opposite its front the Romans built a colonnaded approach 

1 Many cross trenches were made in the hope that further excavation to 
the west might be justified. Nothing, however, was found except, at a few 
inches below the soil, the bed rock. 


on a higher level than the south portico. This we may 
call the Central Hall. Thus the sanctuary of later Roman 
days a chamber older than the Roman Hall in front of 
it was approached through a hall of Roman construction. 
When this hall was built the Romans undertook to make 
the open court square, and there resulted an irregular 
passage just in front of the chambers and east entrance 
which they very probably roofed over. 

In spite of the fact that the Romans have made it easy 
to identify the central chamber as the sanctuary by build 
ing a hall in front of it, some extremely minute observations 
about the manner of construction exhibited by various walls 
have made certain visitors of the site incline to think that 
at one time (before serious earthquakes made Roman 
rebuilding necessary) there was one more chamber on the 
east side of the court. At that time the Roman sanctuary 
(central chamber) was not the sanctuary but one of 
two lower wings flanking the sanctuary, which was part of 
the present south chamber. Thus we should have for the 
earlier Greek period of the temple a plan which the coins 
continued to reproduce in late Roman days, although earth 
quakes and alterations had sadly interfered, and had even 
made it necessary to shift the sanctuary. The oldest walls 
belonging to the temple proper are all of them of an epoch 
later than any of the walls south of the temple, and con 
stituting the south wing. The central and the south 
chambers and the north portico were apparently built long 
before the Romans, and were merely patched by them. 
This third species of early work on the site the two earlier 
exemplified only in the south wing being supposably 
Phoenician may be called the Greco -Phoenician walls. 
A common feature distinguishing them all from Roman 
work is that there is no mortar used. 

The temple then consists of four main parts whose exist 
ence is established, and one missing part whose existence 
is problematical but may for the moment be taken for 


i st. The Chambers and Entrance, which are its east 
side. Traces of a curiously modified Greek work (Greco- 
Phoenician) coexist with Roman mending in these walls. 

2nd. The North Portico, which is the north side. Here 
the work is Roman with just enough traces of what I have 
called Greco-Phoenician to make it exceedingly improbable 
that the original ground-plan was materially departed from. 

3rd. The entirely Roman Southern Portico, which is 
the south side. Here, again, dim traces of an original build 
ing are visible, and confirm the notion that the Romans 
did not seriously innovate. Under the mosaic pavement 
here were found various fragments of undoubtedly Greek 

4th. The entirely Roman Hall, by which the later 
sanctuary marked Central Hall on the plan was 
approached. This ran parallel to the two porticoes, passing 
through or near the middle of the great would-be quadrangle 
or court of the temple. Beyond the construction of this 
hall of approach no serious departure from the original 
ground-plan was apparently made by the Romans. That 
their south portico should have been a great enlargement 
of what had been there before, and should have wiped out 
nearly all vestiges of it, is natural. The analogy of the 
Jewish temple requires a far more spacious portico here 
than on the opposite and northern side of the court. The 
temple built by Herod had its royal portico on the south. 
Finally, if there were no other reason for a more spacious 
portico on the south side of the court at Paphos, the fact 
that processions from New Paphos must have entered from 
the south would settle the question as a practical one. 

To sum up, the temple ruins at Old Paphos have proved 
on examination not to be those of a Grecian temple 
similar to those built in honour of the Paphian goddess in 
Greece. We have at Old Paphos the very interesting but 
unfortunately defaced remains of a temple resembling in 
many ascertainable points that of Solomon. It must be 
admitted, however, that a comparison between two things 


so insufficiently known as the plans of these two temples 
must of necessity be somewhat barren of tangible results. 

The remains called the South Wing, which have chiefly 
excited the curiosity of all travellers, have not, I think, any 
thing to do with the temple- building as such, but are the 
remains of a Phoenician tomb, like the " Snail s -Tower " at 

Would that we had more knowledge. If other temples 
and more tombs built by the Phoenicians or on the Phoen 
ician plan had been examined and understood, it would 
be perhaps easy to know all manner of things about the 
remains at Old Paphos. As it is, the biblical accounts of 
temple -building at Jerusalem, supplemented by Josephus 
and his description of Herod s temple-building, afford only 
the palest side-lights the only lights available for illustrating 
the temple ruins discovered at Old Paphos. 1 And, as for 
the walls of the South Wing, it is by no means certain that 
they can be confidently described as the Tomb of Cinyras ; 
but this account of it is the best to be had, I am sure. 

1 The plan just discussed results from the most thorough and scientific 
exploration of remains existing upon the traditional site of the Paphian 
temple. Yet it is quite possible to explain all that is shown upon this 
plan without being sure that any part of it was the real temple of the 
Paphian goddess. This uncertainty has been recently expressed by no 
less an authority than Mr. F. C. Penrose (new series of the Transactions 
of the Royal Society of British Architects, vol. vi. p. 66). Mr. Penrose, 
after recognising a possible connection between this plan of the Paphian 
temple and that of Solomon s temple, says : "On this account alone the 
examination of the Temple of Aphrodite in Cyprus has not been labour 
wasted. The finds indeed have not been very beautiful architecturally, 
but still the plan is remarkable, and its use, I think, has yet to be made 
out." Unlikely as any new discoveries near the site already excavated 
will seem to any who know the spot, their impossibility has certainly not 
been ocularly demonstrated. Until such demonstration shall have been 
given, other archaeologists will be not unlikely to share the uncertainty of 
Mr. Penrose. This being the case, it is a great satisfaction to know that 
a project for eventual excavations at Couclia which shall make uncertainty 
impossible has been discussed. The best guarantee for its efficient manage 
ment in case it should ever be carried out is that those who have been 
moving in the matter were the originators and prosecutors of the excava 
tions just described. 



MANY who are learned in Greek have a pardonable bias in 
favour of a Greek rather than a Phoenician origin for so 
important a goddess of the Greeks as Aphrodite. Others 
who have studied the monuments of Asia Minor, and found 
there new and interesting materials about the " Hittites," 
are beginning to suspect that Paphian Aphrodite was 
originally a goddess of the " Hittites," and to maintain 
that neither in her origin nor in her main characteristics 
was she of Greek or of Phoenician derivation. In one 
doctrine only do these two jarring sects agree both main 
tain the non-Phoenician birth and breeding of the goddess 
worshipped at Paphos and in Greece as of Paphos. 

Engel and Heffter, who are anxious to prove the Greek 
origin of this Greek goddess, have the following case : l 
The Homeric poems contain many allusions to Aphrodite, 
the daughter of Zeus and Dione. Now Dione is the 
feminine form of Zeus, and these names both lead back to 
a primitive cult as far from Cyprus and the east as any 
thing on Greek soil possibly could be. Dodona and the 
extreme north-west not Cyprus and the east would 
then be the cradle of Aphrodite-worship. It may be main 
tained that a knowledge on Homer s part of Paphos and 

1 I am perhaps bound to say that the statement of their case is mine. 


Cyprus disappears with the application of critical standards 
to the text of the Odyssey and the relegation to a later 
date of the Aphrodite- Ares episode in the eighth book, at 
the end of which the goddess betakes her to Paphos. 
Every one must, I think, admit that the oldest portions of 
the Iliad and Odyssey know nothing of Aphrodite as Cypris 
or the Paphian goddess. But to return to the vindicators 
of the purely Hellenic origin of our goddess ; Herodotus, 
they say, and other Greeks * who talk confidently of the 
Cypro-Phoenician beginnings of the Greek goddess, take 
this view partly from a perceptible bias in favour of the 
east as the place for all origins, especially religious ones, 
and partly from a lack of the critical point of view. 

This critical treatment of Homer must not, however, be 
half applied, and if it is conscientiously brought to bear on 
all the places where Aphrodite is mentioned by Homer, the 
result is not by any means in favour of her Greek origin. 
The most undeniably primitive portions of the Iliad and 
the Odyssey, the oldest groundwork of Homeric song, con 
tain no word or words to show that the poets of primeval 
Greece knew at all either whence or from what parentage 
Aphrodite came. All the passages of Homer where 
Aphrodite is called the daughter of Zeus and Dione, like 
all those where she is spoken of as Cypris, or in any way 
connected with Paphos, are, by a remarkably general con 
sensus of otherwise discordant critics, pronounced to belong 
to a comparatively late period when the Homeric poems 
underwent what may be called revision and amplification. 2 

1 For the various authorities see note i, p. 284, above. 

2 There are eleven passages of the Homeric poems where Aphrodite is 
mentioned as the daughter of Zeus, or of Dione. They occur in the Third, 
Fifth, Fourteenth, Twentieth, and Twenty-first books of the Iliad, and 
in the Eighth book of the Odyssey, They are to be naturally grouped as 
follows : (i) //. iii. 374 ; (2) //. v. 131, 312, 371, 382, 820 ; (3) //. xiv. 
193, 224 ; (4) //. xx. 105 ; (5) //. xxi. 416 ; and (6) Od. viii. 308. A number 
of these passages cannot possibly count in favour of the greater antiquity 
of a purely Greek Aphrodite, since they associate her as the daughter of 
Zeus and Dione, not with Dodona or any place in Greece, but by calling 
her Cypris, or otherwise, identify her with Paphos and Cyprus. At the 


As far then as the testimony of the Homeric poems can 
avail to prove anything about the earliest Greek knowledge 
of Aphrodite, it shows that her powers and her charms 
were known long before her origin was thought of. Further 
more it is plain that when the question of her birthplace 
and parentage did arise, it received a twofold answer. In 
absolute unconsciousness of the contradiction involved, 
Homer tells us that Aphrodite, the daughter of Zeus and 
Dione, was named Cypris, and had, for her favoured place 
of abiding, Paphos. Homer begins by knowing too little 
and ends by knowing too much about the Paphian divinity. 

same time (Od. viii. 288 and xviii. 193) the Odyssey indicates that this 
Paphian goddess was immediately identified with the Phoenician divinity 
of the island of Cythera (Cerigo) by calling her Cytherea (see Pausanias, 
III. xxiii. i). 

All the passages see (2) above in the Fifth Iliad are off-set by 
others, 330, 422, 458, 760, 883, where this Greek daughter of Zeus and 
Dione is called Cypris, i.e. not Greek but of Cyprus. Indeed this whole 
episode of the wounding of Aphrodite is quite as certainly of late 
composition as is the tale of the loves of Ares and Aphrodite in the 
Eighth Odyssey, where Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus and Dione (6) 
above claims Cyprus as her own, and takes refuge in Paphos. See 
lines 363 ff. Thus (2) and (6) are ruled out as evidence of the greater 
antiquity of a Greek Aphrodite for the early Greeks, and (i), (3), (4), (5) 

As to (i), Bergk (Litteraturgeschichte, vol. i. p. 566) declares it to be a 
late addition. For many opinions to the same effect see Ameis-Hentze s 
Iliad (Anhang, Heft i. pp. 159-176). The Fourteenth Iliad (3), so far as 
it concerns us, as also the Twentieth (4), and the Twenty-first (5), are 
similarly divorced by the consensus of competent critics from the un 
doubtedly oldest groundwork of the Iliad. These facts are the more 
worth considering because none of these exclusions was made with any 
reference to or knowledge of the question here under discussion. See for 
(3) the Fourteenth Iliad, Bernhardy (Litteraturgeschichte, pp. 164 and 
165 of the first part of the History of Greek Poetry}. At p. 169 (ibid. ) 
Bernhardy begins his careful presentation of the various views of various 
scholars about the closing books of the Iliad, and makes it tolerably plain 
that (4) and (5) are to be classed with (i), (2), (3), and (6), as belonging 
to a comparatively modern phase of the Homeric era. In confirmation of 
this view see Bergk in the work above cited, pp. 609-613 for (3), pp. 
633-634 for (4), and p. 636 for (5). If still further confirmation be 
desired, it may be found in Ameis - Hentze s Iliad (Erlduterungcn zu 
xiii.-xv. pp. 45-69, and ibid., Erlauterungen zu xix.-xxi. pp. 45-63, 
and p. 95). 


If Aphrodite was the daughter of Zeus and Dione, she was 
a native goddess of the Greeks ; and her name was not 
Cypris, nor was her home at Paphos or elsewhere in Cyprus. 
Logic does not, however, avail when you are dealing with 
poetry and religion. Homer and the other poets are so 
independent of " arguments about it and about " that, in a far 
later day, Theocritus, when he wrote his seventeenth Idyll l 
in praise of Ptolemy, spoke of " The mistress of Cyprus, 
daughter revered of Zeus and Dione." 

The most reasonable way of explaining this poetical 
vagueness of Homer points to a confirmation of the usual 
theory that Aphrodite was essentially of Paphos and the 
east. The earliest Homeric presentation of her divinity 
by giving her no birthplace, and by silence as to her 
parents, treats her as a comparatively unknown power. 
Later on, when her commanding influence secures attention 
to her antecedents, a native and aboriginally Greek worship 
asserts its claims, which ran parallel to hers. This Greek 
goddess was no daughter of Zeus and Dione, but Dione 
herself. Dione was apparently for the early Greeks what 
Freya was to the Germans, and what Venus was to the 
early Romans. Dione 2 was worshipped by the side of 
Zeus at Dodona. Euripides fragment 177, from the lost 
play of Antigone apostrophises Dionysus as the son of 
Dione, and thus makes her the same with Thyone-Semele, 
originally an earth-goddess. All this goes to show what 
were the most ancient Greek associations, surviving vaguely 
in all pious minds of Greece, which would sometimes lay 
hold upon the smiling goddess of the east. These associa 
tions have an undeniable solemnity and a real dignity 
which are often lacking in the more eastern aspect of the 
goddess, and they doubtless played a part in the ennobling 
transformation which that goddess underwent at the hands 
of Hellas ; but the fact remains that Dione of the early 
Greeks was very completely overshadowed and supplanted 

1 Line 36, KvTrpov exoiffa Aiuwas TTOTVIOL 
2 See Plew s revision of Preller s Greek Mythology, p. 271. 


by Cypris, the goddess of Paphos, and through Paphos of 
Phoenicia and Assyria. 

The first victory won by Cypris was in the matter of the 
name. Where the case is of conflicting divinities, every 
thing is in a name, and the name of Dione was practically 
driven out by Cypris-Aphrodite. Whatever may be the 
derivation of Aphrodite, it is not Greek, and Cypris speaks 
for itself, in spite of the forced attempt of an over-ingenious 
Homeric commentator to derive it from a Greek word l 
meaning to be pregnant. Then, with this prevalence of the 
new name partly as the cause and partly as the effect of it, 
came the increasing renown of the great places of the 
eastern worship of the goddess. Paphos and Cythera, 
both of them, played a remarkable role in the development 
of early commerce on the Mediterranean. No wonder 
then if the early Greek poets fancied that the real divinity 
was Aphrodite-Cypris, and not Dione of Dodona. No 
wonder if the old Greek divinity merely retained sufficient 
hold upon the imaginations of Greek-speaking men to live 
on as mother of the goddess. A conflict between Do- 
donaean Dione and Aphrodite-Cypris, where the latter was 
victorious, is the sufficient explanation of the anomalies in 
Homer s account of Aphrodite. 

If this account of the overshadowing of the native Greek 
figure of Dione - Aphrodite by the Cypris - Aphrodite of 
Cythera and of Paphos is deemed convincing, and if it be 
admitted that, so far as her Greek worshippers were con 
cerned, Cypris-Aphrodite was above and before all the 
Paphian goddess, then the question of her origin at Paphos 
must be reopened. Some of those who are especially 
entitled to a respectful hearing upon any question where 
Cyprus is concerned are inclined to believe that the pre 
ponderance in earliest times, at Paphos and in Cyprus, of 
Phoenician influence has been so seriously overstated as to 
obscure the really characteristic and original strain of the 
Paphian goddess, who will, they think, be eventually recog- 


nised as the Paphian and Cyprian modification of a divinity 
of Asia Minor. The dissemination of the cult of this 
goddess they attribute to a conquering race known hitherto 
only by name, and chiefly from the annals of Canaan and 
Egypt. This is Aphrodite of the " Hittites." 

In the chapter above on Paphian Aphrodite room has 
been made in the process of reshaping submitted to by the 
Phoenician Ashtaroth-Astarte for a noteworthy element 
from Asia Minor added at Paphos to the goddess s character. 
This Paphian and non-Phoenician strain may conveniently 
be called by the name of the " Hittites." It certainly 
constitutes an important difference between Cypris-Aphro- 
dite and Ashtaroth, but for all that I do not find myself 
convinced of its all-importance. I am still convinced that 
Phoenician influence was the "tone-giving" one at the temple 
of Aphrodite at Old Paphos, as it evidently was at Cythera 
and at Eryx. In order, therefore, that the last great light 
which shines upon the Paphian goddess from a rising 
interest now felt in the new-found " Hittite " theory may 
not be dimmed by prepossessions of my own, I have asked 
and obtained the permission of my friend, Mr. D. G. 
Hogarth, to print portions of a private letter which he was 
good enough to address to me. Little as I think anything 
which one of his competent knowledge and especial research 
may say on this subject requires either explanation or 
apology, I am perhaps bound to quote his remark that 
" future research may easily upset " various confirmations 
of the view which he so acutely defends, and to repeat his 
observation that the knowledge of the " Hittites " is only 
at its beginnings. The following, then, is his account of 
Aphrodite of the " Hittites," communicated to me in con 
nection with my attempt to criticise a note in his Devia 
Cypria^ a book which I have always used with advantage. 

" Now, as to the general question of my note in Devia 
Cypria, p. 26, the Phoenician origin of Aphrodite, and the 
part played by Phoenicians in Cyprus, I may as well state 

1 See above, note i, p. 282. 


my own theory for what it is worth. My idea in writing 
that note was that Aphrodite is the Asiatic goddess, derived 
from Asia Minor, where she was universally worshipped at 
an early period not from Phoenicia, though I know that 
Ashtaroth is only another avatar of the same divinity. It 
seems to me a very significant fact that the Cypriote 
Syllabary is entirely non-Phoenician ; it is also so clumsy a 
vehicle for a Greek language that it must have been rooted 
before Phoenician was brought into contact with the 
islanders. If not, it is difficult to understand either how it 
was not supplanted by the more convenient script, or how, 
on the other hand, it could itself have supplanted the latter. 
This postulates, therefore, an ancient pre-Phoenician popula 
tion in Cyprus. Whom did they worship? In early Cypriote 
inscriptions Aphrodite does not occur, but r) Fdvaa-a-a 
and r) Ilafaja do occur. Is she the original goddess, only 
called Aphrodite much later ? 

"If the date of Cypriote texts were better assured, I 
believe that it could be proved that 17 fai/ao-o-a is pre- 
Phoenician. It is not yet proved, but it is probable, that 
the Cypriote script comes from the Hittites ; it was 
employed by a people speaking a language in which there 
were no Semitic elements. Why, then, should the great 
goddess of that people be Semitic ? 

"You say there is no positive evidence against Phoenicians 
being the originators of the goddess and the main influence 
in the island. Certainly I can adduce nothing more con 
vincing than the above considerations. I find it hard to 
believe that a people who left so little influence on the 
speech of an island originated its chief worship, and I 
point, rather as confirmation than anything else, to the 
scantiness and local distribution of Phoenician remains in 
Cyprus. I know that future research may easily upset 
that confirmation ; but at present the fact that only Citium, 
where there was an independent Phoenician kingdom in 
late times, and Idalium, which depended on it, have 
yielded anything of importance, is remarkable. By the way, 



have you noticed that at the latter there has been found 
no dedication to or mention of Aphrodite, whereas Athena 
is common ? 

" Neither Herodotus nor Homer can furnish very strong 
evidence for events previous to their time. I take it that 
Hittites never came in contact with western Greeks, and 
were always unknown to the literature of the latter ; what 
they did directly or indirectly in Cyprus would naturally be 
ascribed to Phoenicians. You say yourself, and most 
truly, that Cinyras is more like Attis than Tamuz. 

" This is a crude statement of the idea which led me to 
write the note to which you refer. There is, I admit, 
another theory which would account for some of the facts, 
though it will not explain the absence of Phoenician remains, 
namely, that the immigration of a people from Asia Minor 
at an early period drove out Phoenicians who had peopled 
the island previously. It is not hard to believe that such 
Asiatic immigrants, being worshippers of the great Nature 
goddess, would identify her with their predecessor s Ash- 
taroth, who would accordingly survive in Cyprus while the 
other gods returned to Sidon and Tyre. Some day I hope 
to discuss this problem more fully, but do not see how 
either theory is to be established unless a date can be found 
for the earliest Cypriote inscriptions. When we found such 
complete incised Hittite texts this past summer in Cappa- 
docia, I thought that we might be able to show a fairly 
close relationship between their conventionalised symbols and 
the Cypriote ; but there is no more resemblance than in 
the case of the well-known symbols in relief. True that 
the number of incised * Hittite inscriptions known at 
present is very small ; still it cannot be said that the pro 
spect of finding a terminus a quo for Cypriote by comparing 
these (probably) late examples of Hittite is particularly 
bright at present. 

" By the way, a propos of what you say about a Thracian 
wave on page 280, Ramsay has shown conclusively now that 
this wave was that which introduced a father god ; Cyprus 


owns a mother, and her aboriginal must belong to the 
earlier time." 

After all, the above account of the aboriginal mother 
goddess of Cyprus differs from my own only in the com 
parative importance attached to the main elements of 
Phoenician and of " Hittite " origin in the Paphian 
goddess as she conceivably existed at Paphos before the 
first advent of the Greeks. Chiefly to Mr. Hogarth, but 
somewhat also to Engel, I owe the conviction that there 
was an aboriginal pre-Phoenician goddess at Paphos. I 
would like to persuade him that the belief of Herodotus 
and others, who had some facts before them which are 
inaccessible to us, that the Phoenicians did visit and abide 
at Paphos, was well founded, and cannot possibly be due 
to a confusion between " Hittites " and Phoenicians. 
Furthermore, I would urge upon him that these Phoenicians 
so transformed the Mother Queen of the " Hittites " that 
the resulting Paphian divinity found at Paphos, and 
adopted by the early Greeks, was Phoenician rather than 
" Hittite." 

Any other view of the case makes it difficult to under 
stand the legend of the founding from Eryx, i.e. by the 
Sicilian Phoenicians, of a temple of Aphrodite at Psophis, 
in Arcadia. It is also difficult to explain upon any jother 
theory the early bestowal upon Aphrodite of the name 
Cytherea derived from a worship established at Cythera by 
purple-fishing Phoenicians. And yet this epithet seems to 
be about as old as that of Cypris. 

In fact, if Paphian Aphrodite was of the " Hittites," 
when Greeks first found her at Paphos, then she " suffered 
a sea-change " on her way to Greece, which left her indis 
tinguishable, so far as Greek worshippers were concerned, 
from the Greco -Phoenician goddess on Cythera and at 



THE most minute and comparatively unimportant questions 
require sometimes an unusual expenditure of time, and 
what seems a vast deal of talk about nothing at all. This 
general truth will, I fear, receive illustration in what follows. 
If it were possible without controversy to call Mount 
Troodos the highest mountain of Cyprus Olympus, 
the "mons mamillae similis " of certain well-known old 1 
maps of Cyprus, and one or two unknown or hardly known 
modern 2 ones ; and if I could ignore the trivial fact that 
a blunder of the elder John Meursius has imported the 
river-name Bocarus from the Athenian island of Salamis, 

1 See the finest of Cardinal Bessarion s MSS. , a copy of the work of 
Ptolemy, whose original goes back, they say, to the twelfth or thirteenth 
century. However that may be, Bessarion s copy now in the Marcian 
Library has a beautiful map of Cyprus, somewhat misshapen, where 
Olympus figures. A. Ortelius published in 1573 a map entitled " Cypri 
Insulae Nova Descript." Here Troodos does not appear at all (Trodisi 
occurs as the name of a village), although the map is for modern purposes 
and contains only modern geographical names, i.e. names used by the 
Lusignans and Venetians. Paphos for instance is marked Baffo, olim 

2 Chypre : Histoire et Geographic, par le Marquis de Sassenay : Paris 
1878. On the excellent map here published and originally made for the 
" Revue de Ge"ographie, " the Troodos is rightly identified as the ancient 


where it belongs, into Cyprus where it has no place, then 
the tiresome minutiae of this appendix might be dispensed 
with. But I have already been asked by the kindest and 
most competent of critics what is my authority for saying 
that the Troodos, and therefore not Mount Santa Croce, 
or Delia Croce (Stavrovuni), was anciently called Olympus. 
The question is justified; for the best accredited maps that 
of Major (then Captain) Kitchener and those of Kiepert 
identify the ancient Olympus in question with Mount 
Santa Croce (Stavrovuni), and leave us to believe 
that Strabo had never heard of the only remarkable 
mountain in Cyprus. To answer this question and to 
protect my account of the shrine of Aphrodite at Old 
Paphos from the reproach of containing no mention of the 
wonderful river Bocarus of one hundred mouths, the 
following description of blunders within blunders, of con 
fusions ancient and modern, is offered to such as may be 
minded to read it. 

The question whether the ancients applied the name 
Olympus to Mount Troodos or Mount Santa Croce in 
Cyprus is eventually settled, I think first, by Strabo s epithet 
of /xao-roetSes, which is absurd when applied to Stavrovuni 
and exactly suits Troodos ; and secondly, by a good MS. of 
Strabo. 1 The restoration of a period there found, in place 

1 The ordinarily accepted text (Teubner) of Meineke for this crucial 
passage, of Strabo, book xiv. p. 683, is as follows, he has just mentioned 
KLTLOV (Larnaca) : elr A/u,a0oOs 7r6Xis Kal fj,era^v iro\Lxvf] llaXcua, Ka\ov- 
fj.tvr), Kal 6pos /macTToeidts "OXi /iTros" elra Kouptds (&Kpa) ^ppovrja^rjs. 
. . . Thus Olympus would be Stavrovuni or Mount Santa Croce, which 
lies just inland from the place assigned by Strabo to Palaea between 
Larnaca and Limassol. The punctuation of the same passage which I 
propose to adopt is that of the Marcian Strabo catalogued in Venice as 
"Cod. 378 (Arm. Ixviii. Th. xc.) in 4 minori membr. fol. 43; Saeculi 
circiter xi. " elr Apadovs 7r6\ts Kal /xera^i) iro\ixvn HaXcua KaXov^vrj. 
Kat #pos /xatrroeiSes "QXv/juros eira Koi>/>x? xeppovTjcrudrjs. . . . This 
dissociates Palaia which is mentioned, as it were, parenthetically from 
Olympus, and puts the latter between Amathus (Limassol) and Curias. 
This description exactly applies to the Troodos, since Strabo thought of 
the coast directly after Curias as trending northward, see lower down on 
the same p. 683 : apx^] 8 oiV roO dvff/JiLKov TrapdirXov TO Kovpiov, Curium 
is the town just beyond Curias from Limassol (Amathus), TOV 


of the comma substituted for it in the generally accepted 
text, settles the question. Still the present punctuation of 
Strabo s text is of very ancient date, since, as we shall see, 
Eustathius read it as Meineke does. It will be well 
therefore to go into many details and fully to understand 
how such a conflict of opinions has gathered around so 
simple a matter as the identification of this Cypriote 
Olympus. Above all we must remember that the same 
name of Olympus is also applied by Strabo to a headland- 
promontory at the extremest north-eastern point of the 
island. 1 About the situation of this, the lesser Olympus of 
Cyprus, there are not two opinions. Now I will pass in 
review some of the accounts given at various more or less 
modem times of the greater Olympus. No more com 
manding authority than that of His Holiness Pope Pius 
the Second can be appealed to in the fifteenth century. 
In the chapter on Asia Minor of his Opera Geographica et 
Historical he translates from Strabo the passage where 
Olympus is mentioned, he does not speak of Strabo, but 
simply adopts the passage as his own. Having mentioned 
Citium [Larnaca], he writes : " Deinde Amathus civitas, 
et intermedio spatio oppidum nomine Palae et Olympus 
mons qui mamillae speciem praebuit et Curias penin- 
sulam, et Curium urbs." Thus the Pope Aeneas Sylvius 
de Piccolomini plainly ignored the highest mountain of 
Cyprus and applied the name Olympus to Mount Santa 
Croce ; or did he simply follow the punctuation of the 

irpbs PoSov. ... It is impossible, I think, to suppose with the ingenious 
d Anville (Mtmoires de I Institut, Ancienne Se"rie, vol. xxxii. p. 259) in his 
Recherches Gdographiques sur lile de Chypre, that Strabo meant both 
Stavrovuni and Troodos by his Olympus. 

1 Thus the name Olympus rightfully occurs twice on maps of ancient 
Cyprus. Ortelius in his ancient map (1580) brings it in thrice, and so 
does M. le Comte de Mas Latrie on a map published in 1862. 

2 Pius II. is not speaking from personal observation, as in his Coin- 
mentarii, where he so graphically describes the situation of Monte Oliveto 
and the Alban Hills. Cyprus, throughout the fifteenth century, was little 
visited, and indeed even in Venice was regarded as a place of banishment, 
as was shown by the banishment of two inconvenient nobles to Nicosia in 


Strabo which lay open before him ? l Pius the Second 
wrote the above while he was pope (i458-i464). 2 Let us 
now appeal from him to the German Ziegler (1532). 
Ziegler simply places Olympus in the southern part of 
the island : " Orientalia . . . Salaminia comprehendunt, 
Occidentalia Paphia, Meridionalia Amathusia et Olympus 
mons, Septentrionalia Lapathea." Now this unfortunately 
is very non-committal, but the difference is very appreciable 
between a statement that Olympus is between Citium 
(Larnaca) and Amathus (Limassol), and that it lies in the 
district of Amathus, with the district of Lapethus to the 
north. The latter description of the mountain s where 
abouts almost inevitably attaches the name Olympus to the 
Troodos which would to-day be described as in the district 
of Limassol, since the road leading to its summit begins 
there. But after all Ziegler is only translating the well- 
known passage in Ptolemy, as Aeneas Sylvius translated 
Strabo. Ptolemy, as explained by the traditional map in 
the best MSS., is decidedly though not decisively in favour 
of identifying the ancient Mount Olympus with the 
Troodos. What is really needed is not an accumulation 
of slightly varying translations of two well-known passages 
in Strabo and Ptolemy respectively, but if possible some 
trace of the local survival in Cyprus of the name Olympus. 
So far as ancient testimony leaves the matter in doubt, 
this sort of evidence has a decisive value; particularly when 
the great mountain of all Cyprus is involved. Traditions 
about smaller things are easily changed and shifted. 

If tradition of this kind exists, its traces will be found 
in the utterances of a cloud of witnesses belonging to the 
sixteenth century. These men knew Cyprus at the time 

1 The same mistake, if mistake there be, was made by Eustathius on 
//. i. 1 8 : eiffl 5e Kal erepot "O\i>/X7rot tv re yap \\e\oirovvricrq, ws KOLL tv 
rots TOU TrepL7)yr)Tov eypd(prj, Kal ev Ki^Trpy 5 6pos yuacrroetS^s /J-era^v Km ou 
Kal A.[j,adouvTos OXv/u.7ros Xtyerai Kal a\\-r) 5e ns aVpcipeia Kttarpou 
e/caXe?ro oiirus ev y vaos Axpaias AffipodirTjs, advros yvvai^i. 

2 I quote from the Helmstadt republication by Joh. Melchior Guster- 
mann, 1690. 


when that island was more nearly in the centre of 
European affairs than ever before or since. Many of them 
had an especial hold upon Venice and Cyprus as well. 
Like the Athenians of old, the Venetians in the sixteenth 
century, having failed to acquire any foothold on the 
mainland which was at all commensurate to their maritime 
and commercial importance, were forced by circumstances 
to make much of their islands, and the popular interest in 
these possessions gave rise to a new sort of geographical 
literature in the numerous books published about islands 
exclusively. That the Venetian public laid stress upon 
accuracy in the depiction of any scene where their island 
domain was involved is curiously exemplified by the dim 
outline of the mediaeval Acropolis of Naxia (the capital of 
Venetian Naxos) which adorns the middle distance of 
one of the most beautiful of all Venetian pictures 
Tintoretto s "Marriage of Ariadne and Bacchus." Tin 
toretto was born, it will be remembered, in 1518, and 
lived until 1594, and therefore the various "Isolarii" 
of the century were the new books of his day. The 
earliest of these which I have consulted is that of Bene 
detto Bordone of Padua. This curious book was 
published under a quaint and apparently irrelevant x 
authorisation from Leo the Tenth (Giovanni de Medici). 
" Da. Rome, apud Sanctum Petrum sub annulo piscatoris. 
die V. Junii 1521 Pont. Nostri Anno Nono." But it is 
evident that this imprimatur was not enough, and a 
petition had to be addressed to the Venetian Signoria as 
follows : "Benedetto Bordone miniator compare humilmente 
davanti a le Signorie vostre narrando cum sit che molti 
anni si habbi faticato di & notte in coponere uno libro, 
nel quale si tratta de tutte 1 Isole del mondo si antiche 
come etia moderne &c. . . ." This narration secured a 
monopoly of the sale for ten years from the 6th of March 
1526. The date of Bordone s Isolario was 1508: see 

1 The title of Bordone s book does not appear among those recited in 
the document, and his book is not apparently authorised by it. 


Horatio Brown s Venetian Printing Press (1891) p. 103. 
Bordone thought himself learned in books, and gives much 
space to a remarkably confusing disquisition on La Musica, 
the "terza sorella" of Astrologia, Of this last he says "e 
nell numero delle Muse, adonque ell e vera." His real 
claim to a hearing, however, is that he has travelled 
himself, 1 or at least that he has talked with others who 
have travelled, and can be depended upon to give a fresh 
and unbookish account of Cyprus or any one of his "isole 
si antiche come etia moderne." Of the art of drawing an 
accurate map Bordone was not a master, since he was 
almost the inventor of woodcutting for maps. 2 For this 
reason no doubt, speaking in the third person, he tells the 
Signoria of " le sue tante fatiche . . . volendo quelle far 
imprimere di molte spese si nel stampare, come anchor nel 
far tagliar la forma di ciaschuna Isola come essa sta. ..." 
However, for the purpose in hand, Bordone s sketch map 
is all-sufficient. He places "la croce," the equiva 
lent of Mount Santa Croce (Stavrovuni), close to the 
southern shore of the island with " il chito " (Larnaca- 
Citium) close at hand. He finds no way of indicating 
Mount Olympus on this map, but that is readily ex 
plained when we read what he says of Olympus in the 
text of his work. Speaking of Cyprus, he there says : 
"& ha nel mezzo il monte olimpo." Bordone was so 
completely of his day and generation that his idea of a 
map did not contemplate the possibility of anything more 
complete than are those rude sailors charts called Portulani 
of which the Marcian Library and the Museo Correr at 
Venice are full. 3 Olympus, then, was in the centre of the 

1 This is shown by the letter of dedication : " allo eccellente chirurg- 
ico Meser. Baldassaro Bordone, Nepote Suo, accetti queste nostre fatiche 
. . . cagion potrano esser, che alchuno pellegrino ingegno la strada 
dinanzi fatta vedendosi " etc., etc., the passage becomes hopelessly 
muddled, but seems to imply some travelling on Bordone s part. 

2 See Brown, The Venetian Printing Press, p. 103. 

3 These never give any features of the interior ; frequently the space 
where such details would come is taken up with pictures for the de 
lectation of the jolly sailor s eye. See Portulan No. 9 (in the Marcian 


island, and was not the well-known mountain on the coast 
where every Venetian sailor knew the monastery and 
church of the Holy Cross. Bordone emphasises this 
familiar fact on his map by drawing a picture of the 
church and the mountain, making the church just a little 
larger than the mountain. The whole impression left by 
the excellent Bordone is that of a sailor telling of his 
travels after they are over in language so artless that it is 
often absolutely unintelligible. An Isolario exists from 
which Bordone undoubtedly took the general idea of his 
book. It is that of the sea captain Bartolommeo who names 
himself "da li Sonetti" in his book of geographical sonnets 
on the islands of the Aegean Sea, which he dedicated to the 
doge Giovanni Mocenigo, and published shortly after isoo. 1 
That is about eight years before Bordone s book of the same 

But this form of geographical-historical literature, the 
peculiar invention of the Venice of the sixteenth century, 
did not perish with these rude first attempts. Its 
perfection was achieved just while the Turk was out 
rageously hurling himself on the island empire of Venice. 
The first edition of L lsole piu famose del mondo, by 
Tommaso Procacci da Cosiglione, was published in 1571, 
and the author prefaces his account of Cyprus with the 
following allusion to a work on that island which he had 
seen in MS. : " Nel descriuer la nobilissima e famosissima 
Isola di Cipro ; io faro piu breve che la grandezza & 
gloria sua merita ; non perche le cose non siano molte in 
numero ; ma perche essendo stata fatta questa descrittione 
auanti a me dall illustre & uirtuosissimo Signore Hettore 

Library) by Battista Agnese. There a figure labelled Philipus Rex 
Hispaniae Rex Angliae " is throned in mid-Spain, while, somewhat 
inconsistently, England is adorned with the " Regina Angliae" who sits 
bolt upright and holds a sword. In Italy Pontifes Ivlivs Tercius " 
holds up the cross, while over against him in Bosnia is the terrible 
" Suleymanssach imperator turcorum." The date of this sailor s chart 
and picture-book is 1553. 

i The date of publication is apparently very doubtful, 1477 and 1485 
are both given by competent authorities. 


Podocatharo, 1 cauallier di quel Regno, & non essendo 
anchora stata data in luce, 2 hauendola io per cortesia di 
quell honorato & cortese signore letta, & ueduta tutta ; 
non e honor mio, ne creanza di nobile spirito far torto a 
quel magnanimo gentil huomo a cui son grandemente 
obligato. Perb coloro che al presente legeranno questa 
descrittion da me fatta, sappianno che io toccherb som- 
mariamente alcuni soli passi piu important!, & del resto 
aspettino di douer da quel libro, che il Signor Hettore 
Podocatharo chiama Ritratte del Regno di Cipro, ueder 
pienamente, e in giudizioso stile, quanto a questo proposito 

Procacci s first edition came, as above remarked, in 
1571 ; one of the publishers, Simone Galignani by name, 
dedicated it to Don John of Austria, who was in a few 
short months to win the glorious victory of Lepanto, for 
which Venice is still full of his praises. But in spite of 
this rebuff the unmentionable Turk pressed forward still, and 
before Procacci s second edition appeared Cyprus had, by 
process of fire and sword, and by murderous treachery, been 
torn violently away from the European empire of Venice, just 

1 Hettore Podocatharo was a man of some wit. Cicogna speaks of 
his praises in Ludovico Domenichi s Facezia, Venice, 1574. Procacci 
dedicated to Hettore the first volume of his Cagione delle Guerre Antiche, 
see Cicogna s her. Venet. p. 142. The name Podocatharo (Lightfoot) 
is variously spelled in old documents, but Procacci s orthography is correct, 
for Cardinal Ludovico Podocatharo has adopted it on the illuminated 
page which marks one of the treasures of the Biiliotheque Nationale as 
having been originally his. He bequeathed the book to the Pope s 
Library. How it came to be in Paris is shown by a scrawled inscription 
on a scrap of paper pasted on the inside of its boards : " Exempl. du 
Vatican, avec fig. 2, dont la i iire est couple par moitie". le 25 Pluv. an 9." 
It is the 1481 Dante, with Landino s notes and two of Botticelli s 
illustrations. Ludovico Podocatharo was born in Cyprus in 1430. Most 
of his precious collection of antiquities, etc. was left to Livio Podocatharo. 
Some few of the Podocathari migrated to Venice in the fifteenth century, 
says Cicogna. Certainly the name is not unfamiliar on tombs in the 
churches of Venice. 

2 Procacci also mentions Hettore Podocatharo s " Ritratte del Regmo 
di Cipro" in his work de Funerali Antichi, with the comment "non 
credo che sia stumpnta questa storia." 


at the time when the chance of some measure of justice for 
her immemorially downtrodden natives was at last arriving. 
The Hettore Podocatharo, from whose forthcoming book 
the scrupulous Procacci had feared to borrow too much, 
fought under Astorre Baglioni in defence of Nicosia. He 
was one of the eleven captains from whom the eleven 
" Beluardi " or Bulwarks of the town were named. One of 
these last was on the point of succumbing, but, as maybe 
read in the life of Astorre Baglioni, published at Verona in 
1591 under the name of Brenzone, 1 "accorsero appresso 
Gio. Antonio da Soelle, & Eftore Podocatsaro, & 
ualorosamente scacciarono i nemici. Indi il Podocatsaro 
seguitb il nimico fino fuori del Parapetto, se ben la sua 
mala sorte volse che una scheggia di pietra spezzata dall 
artigliaria lo percuotesse nel capo ove bisognb iacere in 
letto. Fu feruto anco Ercole Podocatsaro." The above 
mentioned Podocathari both survived these wounds and 
the earlier horrors of the sack of Nicosia, where they lost 
their kinsmen Giulio and Ludovico of the same name ; 
Brenzone can hardly spell it twice in the same way. The 
grievously wounded Hettore only escaped for a time 
however. With various fugitives and 300 soldiers he was 
defending as well as he might the house of his sister the 
Countess of Tripoli, when the wily Mustafa urged him to 
accept terms which were instantly violated. Mustafa 2 

1 There are many reasons for thinking that this is a mutilated version of 
Procacci s life of Baglioni, of which I have found some mention, but which 
was never published unless this be it. The curious relation in which many 
passages of the life of Baglioni stand on the one hand to Procacci s book on 
Islands, and on the other to Estienne de Lusignan s Chorograffia, which 
last especially represents Hettore Podocatharo s MSS., makes it probable 
that, if Brenzone wrote the book, both Procacci and the Chorograffia were 
freely used. If Procacci wrote it, he may have used the details (gathered 
from Hettore s MSS.) which delicacy had prevented his using in his book 
on Islands. 

2 The intense hatred of Turks, common in those days as in these, is 
exhibited characteristically by Brenzone in his account of the names of 
those who headed the invasion of Cyprus : che nome piu stravagante e 
bestiale di quello che trovano i Turchi ? Mustafa, indegno, imaginario, 
bestiale, diabolico. Pialy, nome da mulatieri. Giurerei che s uno fosse 


ordered his prisoner s head to be cut off, pretending to be 
in a passion with him. 1 

After his friend Podocatharo s lamentable death, Procacci 
might well have put all that he could of the missing and 
unpublished Ritratte del regno di Cipro into his second 
edition, which was published shortly after his edition of the 
Isolani of Bembo, about 1590. But in that preface he 
does not say more of the book soon to come than that he 
has included in it many new islands. A comparison of the 
two editions shows that in fact little or nothing has been 
altered in the very good account of Cyprus originally com 
posed with Podocatharo s helping MS. It is high time now 
to give without further explanation Procacci s account of 
the Cypriote mountains Santa Croce and Troodos which 
have been identified with Olympus by one authority or 
another. After giving a description of the northern range 
of mountains, Procacci addresses himself to the southern 
group, to which both of the heights in question belong, 
saying : " L altra parte de monti trauersa 1 Isola, comin- 
ciando dalP antica citta Solia [Soli], ch era XVIII miglia 
lontana da Cormachiti [Strabo s Cape Crommyon], & 
andando per mezzo dell isola fino al monte della Croce 
[Stavrovuni] che risponde a Capo Masoto [Ptolemy s Cape 
Dades near Larnaca-Citium], &: uanno fino a Baffo 
[Paphos] a marina ; d onde uoltano dalF altra parte, & 
pure a marina uanno fino a Solia. In mezo a questi e il 
monte Olimpo, chiamato con uoce Greca Trohodos^ che e 
altissimo & pieno d alberi d ogni sorte, gira di circonfer- 

nel mezzo di cinquanta asini, anzi lupi e dicessi Pialy, Occhiaij, o Mustafa 
fuggirebbono piu che lepri i cani, o le colombe lo spaviero. " 

1 Such is Brenzone s account, differing materially from that given in the 
Chorograffia above mentioned and written by Padre Maestro Angelo, della 
famiglia de Caletus Vicario generale di terra Santa" who was in Nicosia 
during the siege and whose qualifications as a " persona iuditiosa, dotta, 
& sanza passione & veridica " are much vaunted. Angelo says that the 
Countess of Tripoli declared herself Mustafa s prisoner in his absence 
and barricaded herself in her house till he should come. Her brother 
" Hector Podochataro " was summoned for a pretended cure of his wounds 
and treacherously slain on the road. 


entia LIIII miglia, che son XVIII leghe, & ad ogni lega 
e posto un monastero di monaci di San Basilic, Greci : e, 
in ciascuno si trovano fontane in abbondanza, & frutti 
d ogni qualita, onde la state soleuano i nobili Cipriotti venire 
a questi luoghi per lor diporta." 

The absolute equivalent of this description, though its 
pure Italian is somewhat defaced, recurs in the life of 
Astorre Baglioni above quoted, where it runs as follows : 
"... principalmente il monte Olimpo, monte altissimo, 
monte d ogni bene monte che dal piedi gira XVIII leghe. 
Monte che in ogni lega si trova un monastero de Calseri, 
Monaci di San Basilio Monasterij copiosi d ogni gratia, 
per igrani, frutti & fonti d acque soauissime. Indi erano 
chiamati le delitie della nobilta, perche 1 estate andauano a 
prender aria per sanarsi : sanati conseruarsi." 

It would be evident, if we did not know it from the 
express statement of the scrupulous Procacci, that such a 
description as either of the above originated with one who 
was more than casually familiar with the facts whereof he 
spoke. It is still more evident that, since the great name 
of Podocatharo is connected with it, a new value immedi 
ately attaches to it. The Podocathari form a link between 
Cyprus under Byzantine rule and the Cyprus ruled and 
misruled by Venice and the Lusignans. One of the 
earliest records of the family which I have been able to 
discover is in a curious book which I have often alluded 
to above, and which was prepared for publication in 
the monastery of Santa Catherina di Formello in the 
month of November 1570 at Naples by Frate Stephano 
Lusignano di Cipro, or rather Estienne de Lusignan, whose 
name appears on its title-page. He fled the kingdom 
ruled by his ancestors in the flurry caused by the first 
arrival of the Turks, and probably reached Naples as early 
as September Nicosia capitulated on September the gth : 
the invaders appeared at Paphos on the ist of July. 
Considering the minute nature of this uncommonly good 
account of Cyprus, it is incredible that any man, let alone 


so inefficient l a man as Estienne de Lusignan, should have 
written it in so short a time as that which elapsed between 
his flight and the aforesaid month of November in the same 
year, unless it is a compilation from various documents, 
among the most valuable of which would be Hettore 
Podocatharo s missing MSS. 2 

1 The inefficiency of Estienne appears especially in his foolish additions 
to the simple title of Podocatharo s work, in his helpless but somewhat 
pathetic apology about the misprints in the Italian version. He left the 
book a whole year in the printer s hands while he was travelling up and 
down Italy to gather money for the ransom of his friends in Turkish 
captivity, " il correttore hebbe molti dinari non hauendo lo la lingua 
Toschana ne Italiana naturale," then it was brought to Bologna and kept 
another year, it was "quasi dicono veduto & riueduto, nondimeno 
contiene molti errori, & qui remediar volesse, necessario sarebbe rino- 
uarlo, & le mie forze sono debolissime," then follow quantities of errata. 
But the most foolish thing about this Italian edition is its dedication, 
Al Christianiss. et glorioso Carlo nono, re di Franza, et al felicissimo, et 
vittorioso Henrico novo re de Polonia." He did not take the precaution 
to prove his royal descent, and therefore the book passed unnoticed of his 
brothers of France and Poland. It is ludicrous to notice how elaborately 
Estienne proves his Lusignan genealogy in documents prefixed to the 
French version (Paris, 1580), which is, however, dedicated no longer to two 
kings, but to the edification of one boy, Guy de Saint Gelais, son of 
Estienne s kinsman, Loys, of the same name. 

2 In the dedication of his French version Estienne says, " Je vous ay 
voulu done faire present de ceste Chronique, restant du sac de Cypre & 
sauve"e des mains cruelles des Barbares. " In the Italian Chorograffia at p. 
75 he says La predetta Cronica cominciando dal Re Giouanni fino a 
qui, 1 ho cauata dalla cronica Greca di Giorgio Bustrone il quale era com- 
pagno del Re Giacomo auanti che fusse Re, & anchora dipoi. Vero e che 
noi habbiamo aggiunto alcune cose di altri Auttori, & multe altre lasciate 
per breuita." Careful comparison of the parts of his work which deal with 
the various classes (Parici, Perpiari, Lefteri, Albanesi, Venetian! bianchi) 
and describe the government with similar passages on the same subject in 
Procacci s book shows that the two undoubtedly derive this information 
from the same source, since neither can possibly have copied the other. 
A comparison of the brief description given of Cyprus in Florio Bustrone s 
Istoria di Cipro (the Cronica alluded to) on sheets 1-12 of the MSS. 
shows that both Procacci and Estienne certainly neglected it, and as 
certainly used better and fuller information. Bustrone does not mention 
Giovanni Podocatharo s name in his account of the ransom of King lano 
(sheet 173). Estienne says that Giovanni Podocatharo sold all he had to 
free the king, giving a version not unlikely to have been found in Hettore 
Podocatharo s book. Procacci tells us that he used Hettore Podocatharo s 
Ritratte del Regno di Cipro. The inference is irresistible that Estienne 
de Lusignan derives his most interesting and important matter (found 


However that may be, the title of the book in question 
is Chorograffia et breve Historia universale deW Isola di 
Cipro principiando al tempo di Noe per insino al 1572; 
and in it we find the most ample information (from a 
prejudiced source, be it said) about the Podocathari, their 
first exhibition of the devoted and self-sacrificing patriotism 
which characterises the family being recorded as follows : 
" Giouanni Podochataro gentilhuomo Ciprioto, vendette 
tutto il suo mobile & immobile, & cio che haueua, & con 
quelli danari riscattb il Re dal Cairo \ al quale da indi in 
poi fu imposto, che, pagasse ogni anno il tribute al Cairo : 
il qual tribute fu cresciuto al tempo del Re bastardo : 
dipoi 1 anno 1516, il Turco estirpo il Soldano : & quel 
tribute che si pagava al Sultano, si pagaua al Turco, come 
dominatore del Sultano : & hora non vuole piu il tribute ; 
ma come si dice, ha preso tutta 1 Isola, & cosi e finite il 

This King lane, so loyally ransomed by Giovanni Podo- 
catharo, was the father of Agnesa who married Ludovico, 
Duke of Savoy ; and the title of kings of Cyprus and 
Jerusalem, still attaching to the house of Savoy, is 
through her derived from this monarch, of whom after his 
ransom we hear that he spent the rest of his days in 
continual starvation because of the constant raids of the 
Mamelukes. Undiscouraged by all these reverses, lano s 
epitaph (given by Bustrone) says of him : 

Caesar erat bello, superans grauitate Catonem. 

In the time of the "re bastardo," this lano s grandson, 
a " Pietro Podochataro " figures very creditably so far 
as can be ascertained. Indeed it is satisfactory to see 

in Procacci and not in Bustrone) from Podocatharo s MSS. , "saved," as 
he himself says, though he is talking vaguely, and appears to mean his 
own book or Bustrone s " from the sack of Cyprus and snatched from 
the cruel barbarians hand." This view of his debt to Podocatharo is 
confirmed by the unusually familiar knowledge possessed by Estienne s 
book of the doings and havings of that great family. For Bustrone s 
Chronicle, see MSS., British Museum (additional MSS., Earl of Guilford), 
No. 8630. Bustrone (Florio), Istoria di Cipro. 


that the family recuperated itself financially 1 so that the 
Podocathari were in a position to buy from the Venetian 
Signoria (after 1489, the date of Caterina Cornaro s formal 
abdication) one of the most valuable and the most ancient 
of all the domains of Cyprus, Chiti or Citium (Larnaca) : 
" Chitheon era citta primieramente edificata auanti d ogni 
altra, <$: fu edificata dal primo habitatore dell Isola, cioe 
da Cethin pronepote di Noe : II che testificano li sacri 
espositori, Girolamo, la Glosa ordinaria, & altri sopra al 
23. capitolo di Isaia, & al secodo di Gieremia. Questa citta 
e posta alia marina, discosta dalla citta di Marium cinque 
leghe, & e verso mezo giorno, & hauea gia vn Porto 
bello, & serrato, come dice Strabone : il quale hora e 
distrutto affatto ; & si vede bene il vestigio. Questa era 
citta Regale anticamente, . . . Hora la predetta citta si 
chiama il casale Chiti : il quale e grande e pieno di 
giardini, & d ogni frutto, & questo fu feudo di Chiarione, 
ouer Gariu Lusugnano : del quale fu priuato dall ultimo Re 
bastardo, &: dipoi fu venduto dalla Signoria di Venetia 
alii Podochatari." 2 There is great probability in favour of 
supposing that the "Re bastardo" rewarded 3 Pietro Podo- 

1 See the Chorograffia, p. 30 verso, " Ma poi al tempo del Re di Cipro 
bastardo, furono molti Nobili di Cipro morti, & altri fuggiuano, & altri 
furono disnobilitati per le priuationi delle loro faculti : perche non volcano 
adherire aesso bastardo." The confiscated estates were given to " nobili 
& ignobili " from Italy, and Pietro Podocatharo (who was sent as am 
bassador to Cairo in the interest of Carlotta, but changed sides on reaching 
Egypt) was handsomely rewarded, and retrieved the family fortunes. Bus- 
trone (197-199) gives a list of those benefited. Pietro Podocatharo (198) 
comes in for enormous estates, Giovanni and Philippe, his kinsmen, get 
handsome presents. 

2 The parallel passage in Procacci is as follows : " ne meno d essa 
(Amathus) fu seggio reale la citta di Chitheon, prima di tutte 1 altre 
edificata, da Cithin, nipote di Noe, ch e posta alia Marina verso mezo 
giorno, c haueua un bel porto ; hora ridotta in casalc, si chiama 
Chiti, ch era le delitie di quel regno, posseduto da Hettore Podocatharo, 
Cauallier Cipriotto, che di queste cose scrisse : il qual u aueua giardini 
bellissimi & ripieni di preciosi frutti." The differences between this and 
the corresponding passage of the Chorograffia go to show that Estienne 
simply published the original text of Hettore Podocatharo. 

3 Of the four names of places bestowed upon him according to Rustrone s 
list (p. 198 recto], I can only locate two which were not near Chiti. 



catharo for his support by giving him certain rights at or near 
Chiti. However that may be, the family came into regular 
possession of the property when Venetian rule was estab 
lished. Procacci gives a most appreciative account of the 
life which Hettore Podocatharo led there, and of his generous 
hospitality. Evidently this brave man lived there the life 
which he loved, and the splendid courage with which he 
defended his native Cyprus was born of a most deep and 
loyal attachment attested at the last by the sacrifice of his 
life. Against the sombre background formed by the savage 
onslaught of those ruthless Turks in the last half of the 
year 1570, Hettore Podocatharo at his peaceful home of 
Chiti stands out as a gracious and genial representative of 
all the good that might have come to miserable Cyprus if 
he and such as he had been suffered to guide the counsels 
of those in power. That Hettore did have great influence 
at Venice is abundantly proved by the terms in which his 
fugitive brother Zuanne Podocatharo apostrophises him in 
a hitherto unpublished appeal which Zuanne delivered on 
the 1 7th of May 1573 "auanti il serenissimo prencipe 
Aluise Mocenigo, doppo la perdita del regno di Cipro." 
Standing forth with the orphaned children of the heroic 
Hettore by his side, Zuanne feels for the first time to the 
full how much he has lost in Hettore, and how completely 
alone are he and the orphans his nephews. There is a 
human pathos in the situation, and a Homeric directness 
in his words, that makes it well to quote them : " Dhe ! 
Pietosissimo Prencipe, uengavi oramai pieta di noi, risguardi 
hormai Vostra Serenita con la serena fronte questi infelici 
figliuoli. Questi son quelli che non hanno esperienza 
alcuna di pecato, si pub noi con qualche nostro difetto siamo 
posti nella miseria, che si trouamo. . . . Questi sono quelli 
c hanno perduto tanta espetatione, e tale che poteua farli 
uiuer per sempre contenti, e felici. Vostra Serenita risguardi 
quest innocenza, risguardi quella purita, e considerando in 
che grado poteuano esser, et in quale si trovino al presente, 
cerchi con la sua pietade uincer in parte 1 impeso della 


nostra fortuna. . . . Dhe ! Clementissimo Principe, aprite 
hormai le uostre misericordiose bracchia, riceuete noi con 
quella carita, che si richiede ad un tanto Prencipe, e il debito 
della pieta Christiana, e la riputatione del uostro benign- 
issimo Impero, e per edificatione, et essempio, delli uostri 
altri sudditi porgeteci hormai il uostro Clementissimo agiuto, 
accio possiamo sostentar questi figli, accio possiamo 
recuperar gl altri, che sono dispersi per le bande degl 
infedeli, e qua li potiemo hauere, qua li cauaremo fuori 
delle mani de nostri empij nemici, quh. li metteremo nel 
consortio d altri Christiani, qua li donaremo gl amplessi 
materni : l ci para assai esser ristoradi di cotanta nostra 
perdita. Ma hoi me ! me misero ! o me infelice ! perche 
non sono io atto a poter con quelle efficace parole, che si 
conuiene persuader questo cosi pietoso offitio ! Doue sei 
sfortunato fratello, qual crudele et improuisa morte mi t ha 
tolto ? Perche non sei qui in tanta necessita presente ad 
aiutarmi? Tu, fratello, hai potuto molte altre volte in 
questo medesimo luogho per beneficio della nostra Patria 
con le tue parole intenerir i cuori di questi sapientissimi 
senatori ad impetrar quanto sapessi dimandare, ed io col 
tuo medesimo spirito rappresentando questi tuoi orfani 
figli, e questi altri delli tuoi amici e parenti, non potrb 
mouer a pieta li piu pietosi Christiani del mondo ! Tu, 
fratello, molte fiate col tuo ornato parlar hai potuto saluar 
la uitta, le facolta, et honor de mold, et io in questo nostro 
esterminio non potrb impetrar dalla benignita istessa il 
uiuer de tuoi figliuoli, che si muorono della fame ! Almeno, 
fratello, poiche qui presente esser non puoi, poscia che di 

1 Several of these captives were ransomed, see the Rdatione di Ales- 
sandro Podocatharo de successi di Famagosta, Venice, (?) 1656. He gives a 
moving account of the horrible death of Bragadino, and of various horrors. 
He tells in detail of the devastation of the Messarea, the Carpass, part of 
the Viscontado, and of the Baffo district. He says that he was ransomed 
for 325 cecchini. Cicogna mentions a letter from Pietro Podocatharo of 
March 3rd, 1577, to Cardinal Comendone, where he says that Livio Podo 
catharo came to Venice for money to ransom himself, his brother Giovanni, 
and his son. Probably the Giovanni in question is the Zuanne who is 



far questo officio non t e concesso, tu insieme con 1 altre 
anime beate delli nostri Cittadini li quali si hanno tanto 
volontariamente, fedelmente, e prontamente offerti alia 
morte per la Patria, presentatevi tutti insieme nell imagina 
tion di questi Clementissimi Signori, scoprite loro in questo 
ponto le uostre crudelissime ferite, rappresentate il lago del 
uostro sangue sparso, mostrate le uostre ardenti ceneri e 
con quest Imagine tutti congionti insieme, come se fosse 
uiui, aprite le uostre supplicheuoli braccia alii misericordosi 
piedi di questo gran Prencipe, con lui vi delete, con lui ui 
lamentate, con lui piangete, da lui per noi e per uostri 
figliuoli impetrate qualche pietade, e qualche agiuto 
accio noi raconsolati alquanto possiamo passar questo 
pocco di uiuer che auanza, sotto la santa e benigna 
protettione di questa gloriosia Republica, la qual piacera 
alia Maesta di Dio di conservar, et crescer con ogni felice 
euento." l 

With this moving apostrophe made in his name, Hettore 
Podocatharo, " quel magnanimo gentil huomo " disappears 
from view. Procacci s description of Troodos- Olympus 
given above was no doubt inspired by Hettore s fuller 
account, but still it gives little of his "ornato parlar," which 
was evidently as well remembered by his contemporaries as 
his wit. One of the most valuable parts of the precious 
MS. which Procacci saw and praised is, however, preserved 
in the description of Mount Olympus-Troodos given in 
Estienne de Lusignan s Chorograffia. This account of the 
great mountain of Cyprus has only to be compared with 
Procacci s to appear plainly as the original. " L altra parte 
delli monti comincia da Solia citta antica discosta da Cor- 
machiti 6. leghe in circa : & vanno essi monti per mezo 
dell Isola insino al monte della Croce ; il qual monte 
risponde al capo Masotto, & li monti vengono li vicino, & 
vanno a marina per insino a Baffo ; & poi voltano dalP 
altra parte, & vanno a marina a marina per insino a Solia. 
In mezo de questi monti e il monte Olimpo ; il quale in 
1 Marciana, Classe VII., Cod. DCXLIX. 


greco si adimanda Trohodos ; l il quale e altissimo ; & 
come si ha salito alcuni monti, come si e al piede di esso ; 
& ancho e dibisogno salire vna lega buona, che sono miglia 
3. & quando si e giunto alia cima, si discopre quasi il mare 
intorno dell Isola ; eccetto che da Carpasso, che non si pb 
bene conoscer la terra : perb si vede bene il mare. Vedesi 
anchora li monti di Cilicia, & quando e chiaro nello 
spuntare del Sole, si vede anchora li monti della Soria 
[Syria]. Questo monte e pieno di alberi di ogni sorte ; & 
ha tma pianura grande in cima. II piede del monte cir- 
conda 18. leghe che fanno miglia 54. &: ad ogni lega e 
posto vn monasterio de Calloiri [an Italianised form of 
KaAoy//poi, the modern Greek for monk or priest] ouer 
Monaci di San Basilio : quali Monasterii sono pieni d ogni 
frutto, & di fontane in abondanza; onde questi, & altri, 
che si ritrouano nell Isola, sono li sollazzi delli Cipriotti al 
tempo della estade. ... In cima del monte Olimpo e vna 
Chiesa di San Michele, & li di fuora e un sasso grande 
simile a quelli, che si ritrouano nelli torrenti : & intorno 
intorno a quel monte alto vna lega per insino al piede non 
si ritroua vn altro simile : & li Greci villani dicono una 
fauola, che quella pietra e 2 quando che 1 area di Noe 
riposb di sopra : & questa e grande, perche quattro 
huomini apena la possono eleuare da terra : & quando che 
nell Isola sta assai a piouer ; uanno tutti quelli Casali 
vicini del monte in processione in cima di quell alto 
monte, & con certi legni leuano in alto quel sasso, & 

1 This seems to mean that the " nobili " always called it "Olympo," 
while the villani used the name Trohodos. See the map of Ortelius 
(1573), prepared for these "nobili," where Olympus is the only name 
given, and Trohodos does not appear. Bustrone identifies the Monte 
della Croce as the Olympus where was a temple of Aphrodite Acraea. 
This of course is a blunder, since that temple was in the district of the 
Carpass. The real Olympus Bustrone calls Lambadista or Chionodes, 
appealing to the author of the life of S. Barnaba, who does not bear him 
out. The modern name he gives as Triodos, MS. p. 10, verso. 

2 There is confusion here, as often happens, because Estienne did 
not understand Italian, and has, for that reason, made sad work of his 


sernpre cantando : & cosi finite, dicono, che non passa 
molto, che pioue, & assai ; laqual cosa io giudico essere 
superstitione ; perb lasso il giudicio a chi ne ha cura." l 

Here then is a description of Mount Olympus of Cyprus, 
and an identification of it with the Troodos, which might 
well be set up against the authority of Strabo, if Strabo, 
read as he should be, were not wholly in agreement with 
it. It is not rash to assume that Hettore Podocatharo 
was educated in one of the great universities of Italy. 2 
He was acquainted with the text of Strabo, and yet never 
dreamed of suspecting him of identifying Olympus with the 
Monte Delia Croce. But, more than that, his long life in 
Cyprus, where he was born, the long line of Cypriote 
ancestry from which he sprung, the traditional sympathy 
with the down-trodden Parici descendants of the mass of 
people found in the island by King Richard Coeur de Lion, 
and sold by him first to the Knights Templars, and then, 
upon their speedy expulsion, to Guy (Guido or Guyes) of 
Lusignan which characterised the Podocathari, and none 
more than Hettore himself, all this makes of him the 
representative of any continuous traditions which may 
have survived in Cyprus. One of the most likely things to 
have survived from days even before Strabo s time would 
certainly be the ancient name of the delight of all the 
nobility of Cyprus, their refuge from the infamous heats of 
lower parts of the island Mount Troodos -Olympus. I 
therefore have no hesitation whatsoever in quoting Hettore 
Podocatharo in proof against all available authorities, 
ancient and modern, of the identity in ancient Greek and 
Roman times of the Troodos and Mount Olympus. 

None of the numerous and confusing accounts of the 
mountains in question, given after the sixteenth century, 

1 Chorograffia, pp. 4 verso, 5 recto. 

2 Cicogna mentions a letter from Hettore to his brother Pietro, who 
was at college under Paolo Manuzio. This justifies the assumption 
that Hettore had been to college himself. He could hardly have taken 
the position among learned Venetians which he plainly occupied unless he 
had been at a university in Italy. 


need now detain us. With the occupation of Cyprus by 
the Turks all opportunity of understanding anything about 
it at first hand was at an end. Perhaps it is worth while 
to note that the much admired geographer, Abraham 
Ortelius, called by Cambden " eximius veteris geographiae 
restaurator," did nothing for the understanding of Cyprus 
beyond repeating what Bordone had said, appropriating 
Procacci s work without acknowledgment, and giving the 
testimony of his map of 1573 to show that the name 
Olympus was current then for Mount Troodos. 

Very similar to the unsystematised and ill-digested treat 
ment of Ortelius is that which John Blaeuw x gives to Cyprus 
in 1662. Blaeuw takes Ortelius map of 1573, in flagrant 
disagreement with a smaller one elsewhere in the same 
book, without any acknowledgment ; then he accompanies 
it with Procacci s commentary, so far as the Olympus is 
concerned. Plainly no one cared or knew about Cyprus 
in the seventeenth century, although a multitude of maps 
and descriptions of the island continued to appear. The 
one exception is a belated Venetian " Isolario " by the 
enterprising Geographer in Ordinary to the republic, Coron- 
elli. His Isolario appeared in 1696, and is absolutely 
correct in giving (according to Strabo) a promontory 
Olympus, which lies close to the north-eastern extremity of 
the island, and then a Mount Olympus, which is the 
Troodos half-way between Alesandreta and Piscopia. 
Coronelli may have had before him the old MS. of Strabo 
(still at Venice), which I have quoted as punctuating the 
passage about Olympus correctly, but he certainly did have 
in mind the traditions about Cyprus and its Olympus, 
which Venice still preserved from the days of her ^gean 
supremacy. No one knowing Cyprus well, and going to 
Strabo and Ptolemy, would differ from Coronelli, I am 

1 It was really the work of his father William, quite as much as his. 
See its dedication as " Parentis sui suosque labores geographicos." 
Various editors and compilers were employed. 


The only reason that existed between 1675 an d 1870 
for connecting with Cyprus the name Bocams as that of a 
river or of anything else, was a curious series of blunders 
made in a posthumously published MS. by John Meursius. 
But then Dr. J. P. Six discovered one more letter than the 
Due de Luynes or Dr. Deeke could see on a coin in the 
British Museum. Dr. Six is the greatest expert in the 
reading of Cypriote characters, and while he was in doubt 
all was uncertain ; but he has finally decided that that in 
scription on that coin will not after all bear his first inter 
pretation, and does not therefore contain any name even 
remotely resembling " Bocarus " or PO-KA-RO-SE. 1 What 
now remains is to see what are the passages in ancient 
authorities where the name Bocarus occurs. The lexico 
grapher Hesychius has made the following entry : 
Trora/xo? ev SaAa/zin IK rov A/ca^ai/ros opovs 
This passage gives for the island of Salamis two names not 
ordinarily seen upon its maps, Acamas, as the name of a 
mountain, and Bocarus, as the name of a river. This last 
name does appear on the map of Salamis given by K. O. 
Miiller in Ersch and Gruber s Allgemeine Encyclopaedic 
(see the article "Attica"). In the Etymologiciun Magnum 
may be found : B12KAP02 : To eap viro T/xuj^viW Trapa TO 
TO> f3to) -%apav (freptiv, /3co^apo^, KOU /3w/<apoS. Kai Trora/Jios 
Se 2aAa/zti/os oirrw KaAov/xei/os. From this Hesychius gains 
confirmation, and we learn moreover that the name Bocarus 
meant spring in the speech of the men of Troezen, just 
across the Saronic gulf from the Salaminian river Bocarus. 
From Stephanus and Eustathius 3 no additional information 
but further confirmation is to be derived. After these 

1 According to a note shown me at the British Museum as containing 
Dr. Six s amended reading, the letters are not what he first thought them, 
and the word should begin, not end, with the sigma syllable. 

2 Meursius, as will appear, cites this one passage four times. Once of 
the river Bocarus on the island of Salamis, thrice as referring to a stream 
in Cyprus. 

3 See his commentary on the Iliad, ii. 637, and on Dionysius Periegetcs, 


commentators and lexicographers, it is well to search Strabo. 
In his ninth book, at page 394, you may read : Bw/capos 
8 fcrrlv kv ^aAa/zivi Trora/xd?, 6 vvv B<i>JcaAia KaAor/^cvos. Then 
comes to hand a passage in that dreariest of poems, Lyco- 
phron s Alexandra, vv. 447-452, where Teucer, Agapenor, 
Acamas, and two others are spoken of as five early colonists 
of Cyprus, which is called by two of its most obscure and 
completely forgotten names, Sphekia and Kerastia. Lyco- 
phron, not content with these hard names, alludes to Paphos 
in Cyprus by the forgotten name of its river Satrachus, 1 to 
Curium on the coast near Paphos by the epithet vXaT^s, 
there given to Apollo (see Devia Cypria, 24 and ff.), to 
Paphian Aphrodite by an obscure name given her at Sparta 
coupled with the qualification " Zerynthian," alluding to a 
cave in Thrace where the goddess was worshipped. Finally, 
having thus done every ingenious thing to prevent our know 
ing that the heroes went to Cyprus, and settled near the 
shrine of Aphrodite at Paphos and at Curium, Lycophron 
plays a final trick upon our wits by describing Salamis 
(from which Teucer departed for Cyprus) as the " Caves of 
Cychreus, and the dells of Bocarus." Salaminian Cychreus 
was, like Cecrops, half man and half serpent, and, by virtue 
of the lower half of him, a denizen of caves. Now that by 
a tedious process of excavation their meaning has been laid 
bare, these lines of Lycophron may be cited in full : 

1 Satrachus is a name which wanders up and down on the various 
maps of Cyprus. Usually it is bestowed upon a river rising from Troodos- 
Olympus. Sometimes a city is improvised and called Satrachos. The 
passage of Lycophron given in the text, together with the following four 
lines of Nonnus, Dionysiac. xiii. 458 ff. , ought to make it certain that the 
Diarrhizo at Old Paphos bore the name Satrachos or Sestrachos. For 
the most learned and conclusive paper on the subject, see the Philologus 
for 1874, vol. xxxiii. Dr. Robert Unger there (pp. 419-430) proves that, 
wherever the Bocarus may have been, it was not at Paphos, because the 
Satrachos was there as Nonnus says : 

e vddrwv 

^X L BaXaffffiybvov Ha-pirjs vv^-prfiov vdup 
^.drpaxov i/j.ep6eis, tidi TroXXd/as old pa \nrovcra 
KUTT/HS av tafff \e\ov /mtvov vita 


01 Trerre Se 2(/y/ceiai/ eis KepaariW 

KOU ^Larpayov /?Aw^avre? YAarov re y^v, 

Mop<(b TrapoiK ijO ova i TTJV 

o fji^v Trar/DO? /AO/xc/xucri 

Kv>(/3eroS avrpeov Bw/capoi re va^arcov,, . . . 

" But five there are who shall house them near to the Zeryn- 
thian Morpho (Paphian Aphrodite) and go to the Horned 
Isle Sphekeian (Cyprus), even to Satrachos (Paphos on the 
Satrachos l ), and the land of Hylates (Curium, where Apollo 
Hylates was worshipped). By his father s blame the first 
(Teucer) driven otit from the caves of Cychreus and the dells 
of the Bocarus (Salamis). ..." 

These are the only places in ancient literature where the 
Bocarus is mentioned. And yet many find it difficult to 
give up the idea that there is some authority to show that 
the ancients called a river at Old Paphos (the river Satra 
chos) by the name Bocarus. This is not the case, how 
ever, with Bursian, who gives, in his description of Salamis, 
the following account of its streams (i. p. 363 of his 
large work) : " Zahlreiche . . . Gussbache, deren ansehn- 
lichster (wahrscheinlich der an der Siidwestseite der Insel) 
den Namen Bfa>jca/>o?, spater BuicaAta fiihrte, durchfahren 
die Abhange der ziemlich sparlich mit Strandkiefern und 
Strauchwerk bewachsenen Berge." Ancient authorities 
should be the only warrant for ancient usage, but still let 
us further appeal to John Blaeuw and his Atlas Major of 
1662, already cited above. The description there given of 
Salamis is as follows : " Posita est ea contra Eleusin, Atticae 
urbem, 6 confinia Megaridis Atticaeque. Longitudo eius 
est stadiorum 70. Primarium insulae oppidnm ei cog- 

1 See John Meursius own note on this line in his juvenile commen 
tary ; see also Tzetzes, who speaks of a town and a river named Satrachus. 
Jacob Geel and Emperius seem to have written in 1773 saying that Paphos 
was on the Satrachus, but I have failed to find the letters in question. 
See also Musgrave s note on Eurip. Bacchae, 404: " Audiamus modo 
Sestrachi apud Nonnum descriptionem . . . Sestrachus enim dicitur, non 
Bocarus, qui Paphum alluit fluvius." 


nomine est ; et Bocarus sive Bucolius amnis, mine If alls 
Jlunnia indigttatur" Whoever, among the numerous con 
tributors to " Blaevius " Atlas Major, may have written 
this description of Salamis, certainly could not yet have 
heard of the transference to Cyprus of this Salaminian river 
Bocarus ; for it did not take place, so far as the world at 
large was concerned, until 1675, when John George Graev 
or Graevius promulgated at Amsterdam the Cyprus, Rhodes, 
and Crete of Meursius. The writer in Blaeuw s Atlas did, 
however, have access to other works of Meursius, published 
during the author s life, which ended at Soroe in 1639. 
Meursius, in his Pisistratus, cites, with no word of dissent 
ing comment, Strabo s account of the Bocarus as a river in 
Salamis off Attica. This proves at least that the learned 
Meursius was not always of his later opinion about the 

In fact, without unduly disparaging the merit of Meursius 
as a pioneer in that laborious research which, when accom 
panied by a sound judgment, is the bone and sinew of 
scholarship, I may say of his work in general that he accumu 
lates quotations for the sake of having many of them, and 
often falls into the error of using the same authority on 
both sides of a difficult question. Meursius lacked common 
sense ; his work has not the luminous and life-giving quality 
that would have made him a worthy successor to the tradi 
tions of Erasmus or have won the unqualified admiration of 
men of learning who came after him. 1 The most concise 
qualification of Meursius and his scholarship will be found 
in Professor Frederick Allen s address on the University 
of Leyden, given as president of the American Philological 
Association in 1882. Professor Allen there said that 
Meursius, the antiquary, had great diligence and some 

1 Of Johann Friedrich Gronovius, for instance, who came to a pro 
fessorship at Leyden in 1658, upwards of thirty years after Meursius 
resigned. It is possible that he was a pupil of Meursius ; they certainly 
carried on a correspondence. His opinion of Meursius is perhaps re 
flected by his son Jacob Gronovius, who succeeded him in the 


constructive power, and that his monographs laid a good 
foundation for subsequent work. Every one who is in 
terested in Cyprus is in fact interested in Meursius, and 
owes to his industry a debt of gratitude. It is therefore 
a thankless task to talk of the serious errors in Cypriote 
geography whose origin can be traced to Meursius. But 
for all that Meursius may fairly be held responsible for 
the idea current in his day among scholars that ancient 
geography was independent of the configuration of the 
earth. He certainly has treated Cyprus as a sort of fairy 
land, where rivers may run over mountain-tops in order 
to enable scholars to defend the most random and un 
premeditated emendations. 

The fact is that John Meursius is one of those who 
early showed a fatal precocity. At the age of thirteen, says 
an appreciative biographer (Schramm), he was preternatural ly 
fond of Greek : " Quippe iam Anno aetatis XIII carmen 
Graecum suo Auctori hand inficiandum elaborabat." This 
is faint praise, not at all like that bestowed upon the 
feat by which Meursius in his sixteenth year indicated his 
preference for the least poetical of Greek writers. He 
actually wrote at that tender age a commentary on Lyco- 
phron ! It is for this that D. Heinsius praises him and 
declares him an Apollo : 

Talis erat, famam cui pristina tempora debent, 
Meursius, et debent tempora nostra suam ; 

Qui Siculi vatis, 1 noctemque Lycophronis atri, 
Dispulit et Phoebus post tria lustra fuit. 

Meursius taught Greek at Leyden as professor for four 
teen years, and then was glad to get away from his native 
country and accept the post of Professor of Danish History 
at Soroe, on the island of Seeland. Thither he went in 
1625, escaping from Calvinism and the Synod of Dort, and 
abandoning for the most part his Greek studies. If there 
had been any chance of his further intellectual growth, this 

1 This alludes to Meursius juvenile essays on Theocritus. 


change from Leyden to Denmark cut it off. His publi 
cations on classical subjects ceased, and his study of 
Danish history was so perfunctory that he never even 
learned enough Danish to master the most necessary 
records. Hence when Lami asked for the MS. left be 
hind on this subject, he was assured that there was nothing 
extant which would not if published mar the reputation 
already achieved by Meursius. As a boy he tried to do 
work which many a man would shirk ; in the prime of his 
manhood at forty-five he was subject to lapses of judgment, 
and at times he could become hopelessly infantile. 1 He 
did, however, preserve to the last that command over many 
books which Graevius praises, saying of Meursius : " Nihil 
enim hoc viro in evolvendis omnibus omnium aetatum 
scriptoribus qui ex illetabile illi barbariei nocte salvi in 
lucem horum temporum emerserunt, fieri potuit diligentius." 
It is this wonderful acquaintance of his with swarms of 
writers whose dulness few ever had the courage to penetrate 
that gives to Meursius work on Cyprus its great value. 
As I am speaking of his shortcomings in that work, let me 
first quote competent criticisms of defects in his work at 
large. To begin with his mechanical habit of always trans 
lating Greek quotations into Latin, it would seem that he 
sometimes made these translations while he was half asleep. 
In some remarks appended to Meursius Ceramicus see 
Lami s complete edition Gronovius 2 objects, as well he 

1 In justice to his later work it should be remembered that he long 
suffered from and eventually died of a most painful disease. 

2 Lami publishes a curious letter which shows that Abraham Gronovius 
had not forgotten how thoroughly his father, Jacob and for that matter 
his grandfather had found out the weak points in Meursius scholarship. 
Abraham, though not of much learning or consequence, was, if only for 
the name he bore, deemed of sufficient consequence to receive Lami s 
circular describing the projected edition of Meursius. In ans\ver he 
writes, April 1736, to Valentio Gonzaga, complimenting Italian printing, 
saying : Xon possum non recordari felicitatis qua olirn istic usi fuerunt 
avus meus, Parens atque Patntns." He then feelingly alludes to the 
odium which Meursius incurred by devoting time to the study of the 
Christian fathers : Quamvis hac sedula opera sua, et Christiano 
digna, ingens odium Meursius apud nescio quos dum inter vivos ageret, 


may, to Meursius translation of KaAAtVn/ ?} G /j/sa TO 
TTporcpov " Pulcherrima venatio prius ; " he also finds fault 
with Meursius for confusing Hermes KaTcu/^a-n/s with Zeus 
of the same epithet and a clap of thunder: " Quae sunt 
arenae sine calce," too much sand and no mortar, humorously 
adds the indulgent Gronovius. There are indeed many 
of these trackless waste places in Meursius best work. 
James Brucker truthfully says that Meursius was much 
imposed upon " in Themide Attica," where he quotes as 
the real laws of Athens fictions composed as rhetorical 
exercises. Also Brucker is right in speaking severely of 
Meursius " De denario Pythagorico." * 

Let us turn now to chapter xxii. of the first of Meursius 
two books on Cyprus, as printed by Graevius, reprinted by 
Lami, and revised in an autograph MS. of the Marcian 
Library. From this last 2 in Meursius own handwriting, 
with his own corrections and additions, I shall make my 

in se contraxerit. Ego vero ab ipso iuventutis meae lubrico, patcrnis in- 
stitutis ita formatus, eos qui scripta vel ad ritus vel ad historiam veteris 
Ecclesiae spectantia primi luce donaverint . . . Meursium . . . Monte- 
falconem . . . venerari nunquam desinam." 

1 It would seem that some rated Meursius so low that they threw cold 
water on Lami s idea of publishing his complete works. See the letters in 
answer to Lami s circular printed at the beginning of the Florence edition 
(Florence, 1741-63, 12 vols. folio). See also the end of Lami s dedication. 

2 Meursius, while in Denmark, did no classical work apparently except 
this one on Cyprus, Rhodes, and Crete. Of this he made two copies, both 
of which came by his death into the hands of his son. One of these 
passed by sale into the library of George Seefeld, out of which it was forcibly 
taken in 1658 when Charles X. of Sweden made his famous march across the 
frozen Belt. Most of the looted books, and Meursius 1 Cyprus, etc. among 
them, were added to the royal library at Stockholm. Thence Graevius bor 
rowed the Meursian MS. in 1675, and byway of recognising the kindness of 
the loan dedicated the printed book to Charles XI. whose father stole the 
MS. All this happened thirty-nine years after Meursius died ; twelve 
years later this MS. was burned with the rest of the Stockholm library. 
John Meursius, junior, being a worldly-minded person, had presented the 
other autograph MS. of Cyprus, Rhodes, and Crete (one which had received 
annotations and various polishings and reshapings in the last years of his 
father s life) to the Senate and Doge of Venice with a request that he be 
recompensed for this and other services by the title of Cavaliere di San 
Marco." This title was conferred, and the three volumes one for each 
island, Cyprus, Rhodes, and Crete were duly consigned to entire oblivion 


quotations. After citing a line from a Homeric Hymn to 
Aphrodite, where the Cypriote town of Salamis is men 
tioned, Meursius goes on : " Perluebat autem earn l (Salami- 
nem) fluvius Bocarus, ex Acamante monte profluens. 
Hesychius : Boticapos Trora/xos ev 2aA.a/xivi, e/< rov A/ca/zcu Tos 
opous fapofjievos, Bocarus fluvius in Salamine^ ex Acamante 
monte profluens? The writer of this has apparently never 
dreamt that Cyprus really exists to check by its shape 
any suggestions or emendations. Such a thing as a map 
of Cyprus he might easily have had that of Abraham 
Ortelius he has never looked at. In chapter xxvii. he 
again quotes Hesychius, whose account of Acamas he 

in the library of the Council of Ten. Thus, thirty-three years before 
Graevius published the unfinished Stockholm MS. , the completed one 
was placed beyond the reach of probable publication. When the library 
of the Council of Ten was dispersed and for the most part absorbed into 
the Marcian library (1795), there were no longer three but two parts 
of the MS. Cyprus and Rhodes. The MS. on Crete was apparently 
stolen or lost at some earlier time, and it was finally bought by Cicogna. 
With his books and MSS. it passed into the Museo Correr, where I 
have examined it in detail, as also the Rhodes MS. in the Marcian 
library. To the Marcian MS. of Cyprus I gave even more time, com 
paring it with Graevius Amsterdam edition, after satisfying myself that 
there is no independent value attaching to Lami s Florence reprint of 
Graevius. (Lami has corrected a few gross misprints of Graevius, but did 
not for instance use the table of errata given at the end of Graevius 
Crete, nor did he rectify cross references, omissions, or wrong numbering 
of chapters.) As reproductions of the MS. burnt at Stockholm, both of 
these editions of Amsterdam and of Florence are disgraceful. The Venice 
MS. shows enough about the Stockholm version to make that much 
absolutely certain. As for the difference between the Stockholm MS. and 
the Venetian revised one, I challenge any one to find a single error of judg 
ment which Meursius, on mature second thought, saw fit to correct. He has 
made himself doubly answerable for all the worst of his blunders by rewrit 
ing them in smoother Latin and by a careful index, where he passes them 
all and assigns to each its place in alphabetical succession. But it must 
be allowed that he has added many new and some important citations. 
These give a slight value to the Venice MS., but they need never be 

1 Curiously enough, no one has ever taken this blunder of Meursius 
seriously, as many have taken the blunder about Paphos and the Boc 
arus. The Pediaeus is too prominent a river to have its name changed 
with ease by any one. Perhaps if the name Satrachus had been equally 
well known the Bocarus would never have invaded Cyprus. 


thus translates : " Acamanta indefessum, et nomen pro- 
prium unius filiorum Antenoris." He quoted just above 
from Sextus Empiricus to show that Acamas was a son 
of Theseus, from whom the promontory was named, 
and now adds from Hesychius : " Etiam mons in Cypro, 
ita dictus, nominatus vero est ab Acamante, Demophontis 
quidem fratre sed These! filio, ex hoc Bocarus amnis 
profluebat. Idem Hesychius alio loco. ..." Then 
he repeats the quotation and translation given in chapter 
xxii. The heading of chapter xxx. Meursius has written 
out as follows: " Fluuii. Aous. Bocarus, Locus Euripidis 
correctus. Salaminem, et Paphum, perluebat in plures alueos 
distributus, etc" Then in the body of the chapter, 1 when 
he has disposed of the Aous, 2 he again attacks the Bocarus : 
" Bocarus. Hesychius . . ." here follows the same quota 
tion twicemade before "Scio ab aliis 3 Bocarum in Salamine 
Atticae commemorari : sed hie fuerit sane Cypri, in qua 
Acamas, unde ortus. Ac corruptum esse puto eius nomen 
apud Euripidem in Bacchis 

I Koi/JLav TTOTI rav Kvirpov 
Nacrov ras A </>/oo8mxs 


Utinam veniam in Ciprum 

Insulam Veneris : 

Et Paphum, guam centum habentis ostia 

Bocari fluuii fluxus 

Foecundant sine imbribus. 

1 This chapter is practically identical in Graevius, Lami, and the 
Marcian MSS. , probably because the latter has by accident no margin for 

2 The Aous, be it said, is the name anciently given to Mount Santa 
Croce, so constantly miscalled Olympus. 

3 These "other" people include himself, in the passage of his Pisistratzis, 
and also in his early commentary on Lycophron, line 450. 

4 I take it that Engel is responsible for the adoption of this absurd 
invention of Meursius, Ross following him. 


Hodie editur, Bapftdpov Trorapov, Barbari fluuii^ Ubi 
etiam obseruandus : Paphum quoque perluisse, aut alluisse : 
et in plures alueos scissum proluxisse." 

I suppose that a river which could flow from the 
Acamas to the sea at Salamis could also empty into the 
sea through a hundred mouths at Paphos, but it would 
certainly, in so doing, crowd out the other Paphian river 
called Barbarus, which Meursius mentions on the strength 
of this same passage in Euripides at the fourteenth chapter 
of this same book. The heading of this chapter, in Meur 
sius own hand, runs as follows : " Paphus antiqua ; quam 
Agieos condidit ; Typhonis nlius ; sive Cinyras ; sive 
Paphus unde dicta & quando condita : prius Erythra 
appelata. In excelso loco sita agro pingui, quern sine 
pluuia Barbarus fluuius irrigabat," etc. Then in the body 
of the chapter comes, after an account of the excellent 
fertility of the surroundings of Paphos : " Et irrigabat 
fluuius Barbarus, etiam sine ulla pluuia, Euripides 

Tld(f>ov av e/carocTTo/xot 

Bapfidpov 1 TTora/jiov poal 

KapTT iov(r iv dvofM/Spot. 

Et Paphum quam centum ostia Jiabentis 

Barbari fluuii fluxus 

Frugiferam reddunt sine imbribiis" 

The indices, carefully prepared by Meursius for this book, 
and written by his own hand in the Venice MS., show both 
the Bocarus and the Barbarus, 2 as well as the name of 
Euripides among the authors " qui hie illustrantur, 
emendantur aut errare ostenduntur." The object of this 

1 Mannert and others are guilty of taking the capital R of this line as 
seriously as Meursius does. It was zeal in correcting this mistake that led 
Engel to leap from the frying-pan into the fire and speak of a " vielarmiges 
Fliisschen, der von den alten Bokarus, nicht Barbarus . . . genannt war" 
(Cyprus, i. p. 126). 

- These are far complcter than the indices which Graevius published in 
his edition. Probably these last were done by some hard-pressed scribe 
of Amsterdam. 

2 A 


long account of much blundering will be reached if a com 
parison of the above passages will only show that Meursius 
Cyprus is an unsteady guide, and that until it was written 
the Bocarus was never connected either by uttered speech 
or in writing, or on any map, coin, or inscription, with 
Cyprus where it has no place. 


THE place of our choice when first we set foot on Delos is 
the altar where Odysseus worshipped in the spring-time of 
our world. 

" At Delos once by Apollo s altar I saw thy like," says 
Odysseus the castaway to Princess Nausicaa, going on to 
compare that maiden s peerless beauty and grace to " a 
palm s tender shoot growing upward." 1 Such a vision, as 
of a delicate tree uplifting its graceful branches and exquisite 
stem against the pure and glowing sky of some well-loved 
Italian picture, is a fitting symbol of the worship of Delian 
Apollo and his sister Artemis, guardians of purity and truth 
for Hellas and the ancient world. 

Purification and purity, these two words must always be 
on men s lips when they talk of Delos. The spiritual needs 
and the moral perfections which these words imply were in 
the hearts of the votaries who came to worship and observe 
the rights prescribed. Unspeakable feelings and inex 
plicable associations clustered for religious Greeks about 
the story of Leto s wanderings and her final deliverance 

1 Odyssey, vi. 162 and ff. 


upon the barren Delian rock the birth of Apollo and 
Artemis. 1 

All the efforts of poets, philosophers, geographers, and 
historians have been expended in the most various utterance 
of the terror and the pity, the awful gladness that assailed 
the mind when contemplating Delos, and the moment 
when Apollo "leaped forth to the light of day." 2 Certain 
pious representations of the birth of the Virgin and of 
various saints may be appealed to as a Christian analogy. 
We hear from Theognis 3 how at that hour " The universal 
shores of Delos all were loaded with ambrosial fragrance, 
and the immense earth was moved to laughter, while re 
joicing visited the depths of gray ocean." "Earth smiled 
beneath her," says the Homeric bard 4 of Leto, and we 
hear from Euripides in two of his most pathetic strains 5 
how the " first parent of palm-trees and the earliest growth 
of the laurel " were called into being for the comfort of 
Leto, the mother. Her bed was near the Inopus, a stream 
specially hallowed in the minds of latter-day believers by its 
fabulous connection with the far-off river Nile whose floods 
found an underground way to rocky Delos. 6 Moreover 
Leto had close at hand the most sacred lake, which in 
some versions of the birth-legend quite takes the place of 
the Inopus, and in almost all is mentioned with a peculiar 

1 According to the Homeric Hymn to Delian Apollo (16 and ff. ) 
Artemis was born on Ortygia and Apollo on Delos. Baumeister seems 
justified in rejecting these lines. Ortygia was an older name for Delos. 
Some have tried to make out that it means Rhenea. 

2 Homeric Hymn to Delian Apollo, 119. 

3 Bergk s ed. , vv. 7-10. 

4 Hymn to Delian Apollo, 118. 

5 Hecuba, 459 ; Iph. Taur. noo. 

6 Strabo, 271, Callimachus s Hymn to Delos, 206 ff. See also the 
sonnets on " Sdiles " in the curious book of Bartolommeo da li Sonnetti. 
The story of to-day substitutes the Jordan for the Nile. 


reverence. 1 From the predestined moment of fate when 
Apollo and Artemis were born, Delos was changed : " Of gold 
from that hour were all her foundations, the ripples of her 
wheel-shaped lake were liquid gold, golden was the sheltering 
palm-tree, Inopus rolled a flood all gold, and golden was the 
ground from which the mother lifted up her son new-born." 2 
" A flush of golden flowers, as it were a forest flowering on 
a mountain-peak, covered the chosen island where no flowers 
had grown till then." 3 To-day a wealth of flowers, gold and 
red, is almost the only remnant of past glories that time and 
man s destructive hand have left on Delos. 

Few scenes upon which the religious imagination of man 
has loved to dwell have been made more touching or filled 
more full of the pathos which consoles than the stay upon 
Delos of lonely Leto, 4 who sealed with suffering an " argu 
ment of never ending love." Euripides discoursing upon this 
theme might use the further words of Shakspeare saying 

The pretie and sweet maner of it 

Forst those waters from me, which I would have stopt, 
But I had not so much of man in me 
But all my mother came into my eyes, 
And gave me up to tears. 

Truly human are the "tricklings of tears down dropping 
fast " whereof the exiled maidens speak in the play just 
after their thoughts have dwelt upon the touching tale of 

1 Herod, ii. 170. - Callimachus Hymn to Delos, 260 ff. 

3 Homeric Hymn to Delian Apollo, 135 and 139, Baumeister s text, 
cf. ibid. 53 and ff. 

4 The literary record of Leto s character is less vivid and complete 
than would be expected from the prominence given to her in various 
pictorial and sculptured records. Hesiod gives, however, a most beautiful 
account of her, ThcogoHv, 406 and ff. "She was a comforter always, 
and gentle to mortal men as to the deathless gods, a comforter from the 
beginning, the most soothing presence of all on Olympus." 


Leto, into which they plaintively weave the sorrows of their 
loneliness and exile. 1 

Bird, that adown the rock-ridged main, 
Halcyon, a pitiful refrain 

Singest, to all thy knowers known, 
For husband lost thy tuneful moan 
Shrilled forth ! be other lays to thine 
Likened, a wingless songster s mine, 
For noon-tide throngs in Greece my yearning strain, 
Yearning for Artemis, easer of pain, 

Xeath Cynthus heights abiding where 

Thrive palms with delicate leafage clean, 
And laurels tender shoots and fair, 

Sprouts of the olive blest, gray-green, 
That Leto s birth-pangs dear helped bear ; 
There swirls the lake s disc too in eddying coils 

Whereon the sweet-voiced swan is seen 
Who for the muse s sake melodious toils. 

The religious -minded Greek might well attach an im 
portance to the commonest things in such a land of miracles 
as Delos. For the very island itself had been originally a 
wanderer over the seas, driven forth from the starry heavens 
where it shone in the beginning. 2 When the twin gods 

1 Iph. Taur. 1089-1105. 

2 There is a curious confusion of geography, astronomy, and myth 
ology in accounts given all of them by late writers such as Apollodorus, 
Callimachus of Delos before the birth of Apollo and Artemis. The 
learned fabulist Hyginus has gathered them together ; and underlying the 
whole was probably some genuine religious myth at which we dimly guess. 
It appears that according to one current version Poseidon hid in his watery 
depths the floating island with Leto upon it while the grim emissary of 
Hera, Pytho, vainly searched for her. This harmonises with the tradition 
that originally Delos, like its neighbour Tenos, was a possession of 
Poseidon (Strabo, 37, Aeneid, iii. 74). But now comes an inexplicably 
barren tale which seems chiefly to exist in order to account for certain 
names of Delos, and which most effectually hides any traces which may 
be nvolved in it of genuine popular myth-making. A sister of Leto, 
Asteria, in order to escape from the love of Zeus, is changed into a quail 
and finally into Ortygia or quail island. Asteria was at the beginning a 


were born the holy Cyclades, motionless till then, danced 
for very joy around Delos, while the holy island itself 
always a wanderer over seas till then was made to stand 
still. " For in the foretime it was a wanderer," says Pindar, 1 
" at the mercy of every dashing wave and of the whirling 
winds ; but the daughter of Coeus set foot upon it wild 
with shooting pains the forerunners of her deliverance ; then 
it was that on earth s stablished foundations four upright 
pillars arose, and upon their capitals columns that were 
footed in adamant held firmly aloft the rock 2 where she 
first in her travail had sight of her blessed progeny." 
Meanwhile the islands centered round about Delos, the 
chosen Cyclades, 3 went through their dance, and swans 
from Asia went singing seven times around the holy island, 
and then the babes were born. In memory of these joyous 
circlings of the swans before his birth, Apollo afterwards 
set seven strings upon his lyre. 4 Because, moreover, 
Leto had respite from travail-pangs on the seventh day of 
the month, that day was made holy. 5 

star in the sky, and her two names were merged with herself in the floating 
island. When Apollo and Artemis were finally born, their birth-place 
Asteria-Ortygia became Delos for insufficient reasons more than sufficiently 
dwelt upon by Callimachus in his Hymn to Delos. 

1 Quoted by Strabo, p. 485. 

2 Virgil, Aeneid, iii. 73 ff. , gives an alternative account of the early 
career of Delos which amounts to much the same as Pindar s, only in place 
of pillars chains fasten the island. Its anchors are Myconos and Gyaros. 
In common with Myconos the two sacred isles Delos and Rhenea are of 
granite. Hence the notion that in the record (i) of Delos as an island not 
originally fixed in its place like others, but left a wanderer (Callimachus 
Hymn to Delos, 30 ff. and 92 f.), (2) of Delos as being hidden under water 
till Zeus or Poseidon drew it out (see Etym. Mag., s. v. A^Xoj), we have 
a mythological account of the comparatively recent and volcanic origin of 
Delos. If this way of treating the myth could only be deemed reasonable 
it would have a certain value for geologists which it now entirely lacks. 

3 See Appendix IX. on the Cyclades. 

4 Callim. Hymn to Delos, 300 and ff. 

5 Hesiod, \Vorks and Days, 770 and f. 


In thinking of Delos, the first importance was given by 
religious Greeks to a feeling that the birth of Apollo and 
Artemis made the island especially pure, and in order to 
preserve that quality without stain it was in time enacted 
by a gradual process of evolution in the idea of what purity 
required (somewhat accelerated and much discredited by 
political circumstances) that there should be no birth, no 
death, and no burial upon the holy isle. 1 Because Leto 
and her children had communicated to Delos by contact 
the inherent virtues indwelling in them, it was meet that all 
occasions of contamination from mortals at the supreme 
physical moments of birth and death should be removed. 2 
Delos itself was in the end so over-jealously guarded from 
the contaminations of birth and death, that the dying had 
to be moved across the sheltered narrows to Rhenea before 
they quite gave up the ghost, and anticipated births were at 
last so regulated as to take place also upon that adjacent 
island. These regulations for defence against contamina- 

1 There was, furthermore, a curious provision that no dogs be allowed 
on Delos (Strabo, 486). 

2 A certain help in gaining the Greek point of view may be derived 
from the fourth chapter of Mr. Frazer s Golden Bough, where many curious 
customs really far removed from the Greeks are described. In some of 
these the view of supreme physical moments here suggested may be found. 
The notion that there is a taint derived from the presence of death has 
not survived with any religious sanction, though the Old Testament is full 
of it. Perhaps though a touch of it has lingered to give special point to 
Me"rime"e s saying that he came near dying while calling at the house of a 
person with whom he was not sufficiently intimate to justify his taking 
that liberty. The taint derived from proximity to a birth, however, was 
quite as much provided against by the priests of the medieval church 
as by those of Apollo and Aesculapius. That the same view was enter 
tained under the Jewish dispensation is noted in our own Milton s touching 

Methought I saw my late espoused saint 
Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave, . . . 
Mine, as whom washt from spot of child-bed taint 
Purification in the old law did save." 


tion seem to have passed from Uelos to the Epidaurian 
shrine and precinct of the Apolline god Aesculapius. In 
imperial times certainly there was constructed outside of 
the Epidaurian precinct a place of refuge called the house 
of birth and of death. 

But before Rhenea could become a sort of second 
Delos, and take upon itself contaminations for the sake of 
leaving the Holy Island pure, an ideal consecration was 
required. In the record of this may be found another and 
real though not logical proof that in Delos resided a virtue 
of inherent purity, greater perhaps than that attributed by the 
faithful to the shrines of most powerful saints. The record 
in question is of a gift that Polycrates made to Delian Apollo. 1 
Polycrates, among his many proverbial strokes of good luck, 
hit upon the idea of dedicating to Apollo at Delos the 
island of Rhenea which he had conquered. He decided to 
offer the island in just the same way that he would have 
chosen for offering a statue or a piece of furniture to the 
temple. How then was his island, a small island it was, to 
be sure, but still at least four times the size of Delos, how 
was Rhenea to be offered up at the shrine of Apollo ? 
The universally prevalent religious conception of Delos as 
the purest of all spots helped him to the way. He stretched 
across the not very deep roadstead between Rhenea and 
Delos cables or chains of iron, and brought about through 
the 500 yards of water that intervened a contact of the 
impure with the pure. Thus the greater was contained by 
the less, thus the island now called Megale Dili, Great 
Delos, was made for certain purposes a part of its smaller 
neighbour. It was a very fortunate stroke for Polycrates, 
since the world was amazed and delighted, and at the same 
1 Thuc. iii. 104. 


time was informed that the new master of the island of 
Samos had made himself the best friend of Apollo at 

The most spiritual bond, however, that ever attached 
a whole community to the distant shrine of a god was 
that which bound Athens to Delos, during the absence 
of the holy ship on its yearly visit to the island. Dur 
ing that month all Athens was consecrate to Apollo, 
and thus a month was added to the life of Socrates. 
No death could be inflicted by the state while it was in 
official congress with the Holy Island, for this would blot, 
through indirect contact, the perfect purity of Apollo s 
home. 1 

The early history of Delos is a chapter of lustrations and 
purifications. Pisistratus of Athens devoted his efforts in 
the archipelago to a removal of all tombs that were within 
sight of Apollo s temple. 2 A century later, in 426 B.C., the 
Athenians, self-governed at last and not ruled by any tyrant, 
renewed and improved upon the policy of Pisistratus. In 
this year they began to take possession of Delos for 
avowedly religious but also for commercial reasons, and 
instituted the great Delian festival called the Delia. At 
this time all mortal remains were dug up and removed from 
Delos. 3 Thus even at Delos it was only gradually that the 
stringent regulations of ceremonial purity were developed, 
and generations of increasing stringency were required before 
the taint of births and deaths was secluded from Delos and 

1 A similar sanctity by spiritual contact is constantly implied in the 
terms in which the Cyclades are spoken of by various authors. In return 
for this their homage glorified Delos. As Strabo says, 485 : ^vdo^ov 5 
eTToi-rjaav avr^v cu Trepiot/ctSes vTjffoi /caXoi^ei/ai Ki</cAd5es, Kara ri^ty 
Tre/ATTOucrai rnj.oala dewpovs re /cat Ovffias, /cat %o/30i)s irapdtvwv, Travrjyupeis 
re tv aurrj crvvayovffai /j.eyd\as. 

2 Thuc. iii. 104. 3 Ibid. 


confined to Rhenea. Moreover the harsh rules set up by 
Athens for her own purposes were a real violation of the 
spirit of Apolline religion. 1 The climax was reached four 
years after this second purification of Delos by Athens. In 
422 B.C. the Athenians declared that all the Delians were a 
source of contamination to the island, and thus, having 
previously removed the dead, they now drove out the 
living. 2 

The conduct of Athens at Delos from 426-422 B.C. did 
not deceive religious Greeks, who saw in it a determination 
on her part to suffer no commercial rivalry, and resented 
the outrage offered by the Athenians elsewhere to a 
sanctuary of Delian Apollo. 3 Apollo himself from his 
Delphian oracle interfered and secured the restoration of 
the Delians after a most unhappy period of exile. 4 An echo 
of the public interest taken by religious Greece in Delos 
and the Delians, an interest which would resent their un 
merited wrongs, is found in the Hecuba, which was brought 
out between 426 B.C. the date of the establishment of the 
Delia, and 422 B.C. the date of the expulsion by Athens of 
the Delians from Delos. The captive Trojan maidens thus 
sing of Delos and the Delians : 

" Where the first of palms that grew, and the laurel-tree 
shot upward holy branches of tender green to give comfort 
to blessed Leto in her travail-pangs for Zeus. With Delian 
maids shall I there join in praise of the fillet and bow of 
heavenly Artemis ? " 5 

1 Sec M. Homolle s article " Delia" in Daremberg and Saglio. 
- Thuc. v. i. 

3 At Delium in Boeotia (Thuc. iv. 89-100). After the battle in 424, the 
Boeotians organised a Delian festival at Delium. This was a protest 
against the policy of Athens at Delos. 

4 Thuc. v. 32. 

5 Hecuba, 457 ff. ; and cf. I ph. Taur. 1089-1105, quoted above. 


Great as was the interest of Euripides in the Delians and 
their traditional observances, he yielded to none in a sense 
that Delos must be perfectly pure. This abundantly 
appears in the Ion, where Creiisa cries out in the temple at 
Delphi, making appeal from injustice to the holiness of 
Delos. She thinks that Delphian Apollo has grievously 
wronged her, and believes momentarily that he has no pur 
pose of reparation : therefore she cries aloud against him. 
But even under these circumstances the genuine piety of 
her heart did not escape the poet. What more true and 
more touching proof of it can be found indeed than the 
closing words of Creiisa, whereby the harshness and horror 
of the tale she has just told of Apollo s wrongdoing are made 
but another means of proclaiming the beauty of holiness that 
guards his sacred island ? 

"Delos abhors thee, she cries; even the laurel-shoot 
growing close to the palm-tree of delicate leafage, where in 
the pangs of her holy travail Leto brought thee to birth for 
Zeus." l 

This amounts very nearly to a worship of the island 
itself, and certainly Euripides, by a magnificently religious 
exaggeration, has here gone farther even than the celebrated 
apostrophe of Delos by Pindar, who addressed the island 
as follows : 

"Hail! thou that wert stablished by a god, thy upspringing 
was most longed for of the children of bright-vestured Leto ! 
Moveless miracle of all the breadth of earth, Delos named 
by mortals, and by the blessed gods called the far-gleaming 
star of darkling earth." 

The natural beauty which flashes from Delos in these 
lines of Pindar is a glittering loveliness shared with her by 

1 Ion, 919 and ff. 



all the holy Cyclades ; and like the holiness which brought 
worshippers of yore, it is a garment bestowed by the coming 
of the sun god. Untouched of sunlight Delos and Rhenea 
with all the twelve that circle round them, white Paros and 
fertile Naxos, rugged Myconos and Tenos with rocky Syros 
all of them, untouched of sunlight, seem desolate and 
drear ; but let Apollo touch them with the arrows of his day, 
and they are then like flashing prisms that he has set upon 
the sea, or blossom-like they glisten white on blue, and the 
poet .of to-day still marvels to see them there 

Lily on lily that o erlace the sea. 

The sea and the sunlight of his Aegean home entered 
long since into the heart of the ancient Aegean poet Archi- 
lochus and made him, even more than Pindar, capable of 
worthily setting forth the strong and beautifully awful majesty 
of Delian Apollo. Archilochus chose rather for his theme, 
and for his native land, the whole breadth of the Aegean 
than the pent-up Paros where he came to birth. 

" Away with Paros, her figs and fishy life ! " 1 he cries, and 
launches his barque upon the sparkling sea, singing, 

Wood makes the trough to knead my bread withal, 
Wood makes the cask to keep Ismarian wine, 
Wood makes the deck where drinking I recline. 2 

Although the poetry of great Archilochus has disappeared 
with the exception of a few lines, in some of those few that 
remain we may read of the presence in his heart of the 
glorious Delian sun -god Apollo. The very flame of swift 
power in the death -dealing sun, pouring ceaselessly upon 
the fervid flanks of Delian Cynthus, or making the while 

1 Bcrgk, Frag. 51. 2 Ib nL 3. 


sea-walls of Paros glow again with intolerable heat, was felt 
by Archilochus, when indignant he cries : 

Sirius will flash, I hope, most fiercely out, 
And utterly consume them. 1 

There were moments in the life of this man, the poet of the 
whole Archipelago, and more especially of that greater 
Delos formed by all the Cyclades, moments, I say, there 
were in this poet s life when the intensity of his scorn swept 
him away as completely as if he had been caught in the 
whirl of the tides of his native seas. At such times he 
would look in wrathful and untolerating expectation towards 
the Holy Isle of Delos and thence invoke Apollo, the dealer 
of sudden death : 

Apollo, take the guilty ones away, 

Unmask them, Lord, and slay as thou canst slay. 2 

For a moment the largeness of such noble scorn trans 
figures Archilochus ; the inspiration of deep utterance 
makes him for one instant like the god whose power he 
invokes, but it lasts but the space of a moment. Though 
our poet s anger resembles that of high Apollo, he is other 
wise not like him. Archilochus never dreamt even of that 
chivalrous regard for womankind which belonged to the 
ideal godhead of Apollo. 

Let us now examine first this great quality, which some 
times tempts one to call Apollo a King Arthur of the 

Does Apollo the giver of swift and painless death slay 
women as well as men ? Here is one test of his chivalry. 
Homer may be called in for the first witness, he knew 
1 Bergk, Frag. 61. 2 Ibid. 27 


Apollo first. In describing Syrie, commonly identified with 
Syros one of the twelve Cyclades, Homer says : 

When it cometh to pass that men grow old in that country, 
The god of the silver bow, Apollo, and Artemis with him 
Suddenly comes upon them and slays with shafts that are 
gentle. 1 

Again Apollo and Artemis come together and avenge upon 
Niobe and her children the blasphemous outrage uttered 
against their dear mother Leto. The two, brother and 
sister, act in concert ; Apollo s shafts strike down the sons 
of Niobe, her daughters are slain by the unerring aim of 

Sometimes, we hear, these twin gods dealt destruction 
by command of the other gods. Sometimes Artemis acts 
alone, as in the case so bitterly complained of by Calypso 

Artemis dread, the golden-throned, on the island Ortygia, 2 
Suddenly came upon him 3 and slew with her shafts that are 
gentle. 4 

Apollo s anger against the guilt of his love Coronis, soon 
to be mother of the blameless Aesculapius, could not make 
him raise his hands against her, she died, " slain," says 
Pindar, " by golden shafts of Artemis shot forth. She went 
from her chamber down to Hades house through con 
trivance of Apollo." 5 Thus it appears that Apollo and 
Artemis are appointed to bring a sudden death, whether 
painless and peaceful as to those who have lived right 
eously through a long life or a destruction whirled on the 
guilty like a flash from the death-dealing anger of heaven. 

1 Odyssey, xv. 409 and ff. 2 Delos. 

3 Orion the lover of the Dawn. 4 Odyssey, v. 123 and ff. 

5 Pyth. , iii. 8 and ff. 


In any case Apollo gives no death to womankind, in all 
such cases his sister Artemis intervenes. 

Other Greek divinities are not, like Apollo, incapable of 
bringing death to women. Furthermore, Apollo s conduct 
towards his various loves shows often in other ways the 
true aspect of chivalry. The love of Apollo and Daphne, 
the story of Marpessa s marriage, both represent Apollo the 
lover submitting to be scorned and rejected with no thought 
of revenge, but rather (in Daphne s case at least) with a 
persistency in loving which foreshadows the more complete 
ideal of devoted chivalry. As a lover Apollo is not angered 
by refusal, and entire rejection does not end his suit. 
Though Daphne eluded him utterly, he takes to be his own 
the laurel tree, which was peculiarly hers, since it was she. 
This laurel became one of the symbols of purification and 
purity in the Apolline ritual. It is even possible that the 
whole myth of the love of Apollo for Daphne sprang up as 
a link to join a form of native and immemorial tree-worship 
to the later and higher service of Apollo. That a myth of 
this kind, chiefly intended as a connecting-link, should come, 
by the way, to present pictorially so high-minded a mood of 
unsensual and unselfish love is most significant. A similar 
link between the Thracian Dionysus and the native Icarian 
tree-worship was that of the suicide of Erigone and the 
mania for self-destruction that came upon all the maidens 
of Icaria. These two episodes embody the popular ap 
praisal, so to speak, of Dionysus and Apollo. Dionysus 
was wrapped in a mystery of cruel horror, he drove men to 
nameless destruction, whereas Apollo was the noble-minded 
god, shining before men as a beacon of purity, and support 
ing their moral weakness by his own sublime and undying 


Zeus in his loves forms a great contrast to the unsensual 
Apollo. Zeus transforms himself into this animal or that 
for more certain and secret pursuit. These animals are an 
incarnation, as it were, of the carnal impulse in the god. 
Such a mark of sensuality is not set upon the love-pursuit 
of Apollo. Moreover Apollo is represented as accepting 
the duties along with the privileges of a lover. 1 The re 
sponsibilities of fatherhood, so little and so ineffectually 
heeded by Zeus, come home in all their fulness to Apollo. 

Many stories present these high aspects of Apollo s 
commerce with men. For one of them, his appreciation 
of those charms which elude perception by mere sense, 
Pindar s account of the loves of Apollo and Cyrene is 
perhaps the most adequate. 2 Wandering in the woods, 
Apollo comes of a sudden upon Cyrene engaged in a hand 
to hand struggle with a lion. The maiden is alone, but 
unafraid. The god calls out straightway to Chiron, that 
gentlest and wisest of all centaurs : " Leave thy dread cave, 
come forth and marvel at this great prowess; how with 
mind undaunted the girl maintains her struggle, showing a 
spirit that towers above trials, a stedfast soul unstormed by 
fear. What mortal begat her? Plucked from what tribe 
doth she dwell in the hidden nooks of the shadow-flinging 
hills ? " Truly Apollo s bearing is chivalrous and the nobility 
of passion can no farther go. 

In the answer made by Chiron to Apollo s questions 
about Cyrene, the god is spoken of as one for whom it is 
unlawful to have part in a lie, 3 and this recalls another 
place where Pindar says that Apollo sets not his hand to 
falsehood, 4 and also various passages where Plato maintains 

1 See the Ion of Euripides, passim. 2 Pyth. ix. 

:i Ibid. 42. 4 Pyth. iii. 9, \J/v8tuv oi x ^Tr 

2 B 


the unerring and unswerving truthfulness of the god. 1 
Truthfulness is also among the cardinal virtues of the 
Knights of the Round Table, and thus again is the chivalry 
of Apollo made manifest. Apollo was in fact bound not 
to come near to falsehood by a law, a Thesmos. This law 
was an obligation, self-imposed no doubt, but yet stronger 
than any other impulse in the god, and therefore stronger 
than himself. He would not speak untruth because he 
could not, and he could not because he would not. This 
is a standard which suffers nothing by comparison with the 
medieval point of honour. 

Further consideration of Apollo as the infallible speaker 
of truth by his oracles would lead rather to his Delphian 
than his Delian shrine, for the oracle at Delos never had 
great influence until Alexandrine times 2 when oracles began 
already to be neglected. Apollo, we are told, gave oracles 
at Delos in the summer season, but not during the winter. 
Then he gave answers at Patara in Lycia. According to 
still another account Apollo absented himself during the 
winter months to sojourn among the Hyperboreans in the 
uttermost parts of the earth. Kindred stories about regular 
absences of the god from Delphi are told and have been 
dealt with in the opening chapter of this book. Dismissing 
these questions without going more deeply into them, we 
may briefly add that the two great Apolline principles were 
represented by his two great shrines at Delphi and Delos. 
Apollo was everywhere the god of purity and truth, but his 
Delian worshippers had first in their minds his purity, while 
men flocked to Delphi that before all things else they might 
hear truth. This is broadly true of Apollo, and it also 

/. 21 B, Rep. ii. 382 E and 383 B. 
Callimachus, Hymn to Delos, vv. 1-5 ; Virg. Aen. iii. 85-101. 


seems true to say that in many local stories, notably in 
those of Delphi, the god is represented as having attained 
the purity of his heart and the clearness of his infallible 
mind by a process of trial, a period of tribulation, which so 
regenerated him that he was fitted to be the moral pro 
tagonist of Olympus. 1 There was a commemoration at 
Delphi of Apollo s self-purification after he slew the dread 
serpent Pytho. Apollo was condemned in another story to 
serve a mortal for nine years in expiation of his slaying 
the Cyclops. These are Apollo s victories over himself, 
his acts of submission to that higher and self-imposed thes- 
mos, which among other things forbade him as Pindar s 
Chiron says from touching falsehood. Through the moral 
superiority to other ideal figures in Greek mythology thus 
achieved, Apollo was enabled to possess for his own both 
Delphi and Delos, where other gods were in possession 
when he came. For instance, Delos apparently belonged 
to Poseidon before it came to Apollo, and the same seems 
true of Delphi. Actual record of the superiority of 
strenuous and self- disciplining Apollo is preserved, first 
by the great Delphian motto on his temple " Know thyself," 
and secondly, by legends of Apollo s superiority in various 
strenuous ways to other gods. The contest between him 
and Heracles for the tripod ended in a compromise where 
Apollo s superiority is plainly shown. M. Ronchaud 2 has 
indeed most admirably said that " Apollo, when he has 
dealings with other divinities, always shows a certain moral 

1 See chapter iv. of C. F. Keary s Outlines of Primitive Belief. Mr. 
Keary says, p. 191 : " The history of the development of Apollo s character, 
then, is the gradual exaltation of his nature to suit the growing needs of 
men. In the Iliad, though Zeus is the most mighty of the two, Apollo s 
is certainly the more majestic figure." 

2 Article " Apollo," in Daremberg and Saglio. 


superiority. His standard is higher than theirs. Poseidon 
was his fellow-labourer in the building of the walls of Troy, 
but the possession of Delphi and its oracle, originally shared 
by Poseidon with Earth, passed into Apollo s hands, and 
Poseidon was dispossessed. Apollo s superiority shows 
itself also in the Homeric record of his strife with Hermes. 
He is the rival of Hermes in inventing the lyre, and wins 
the day over him in a race at Olympia. Ares himself cannot 
withstand Apollo at boxing, and as for the insolent Phorbas, 
Apollo punishes him with death. Apollo taught Heracles 
the use of the bow^and in various points the legends of 
Heracles run parallel to those of Apollo. But Apollo 
stands far above Heracles, and looks down from the heights 
of his divine perfection." 

A further insight into the nature of the purifier purified, 
of Delian Apollo and his services at Delos, will be gained 
by looking into the various festivals celebrated on the 
island at various periods. The festival in honour of Apollo s 
birthday was like the flower festivals of Dionysus in the 
spring. Upon the sixth of the month Thargelion began 
this Apolline Christmas season, of which a glorified record 
is preserved in the Homeric Hymn to Delian Apollo. This 
may be summarised as follows : 

Apollo has many sanctuaries, "thick -growing forests," 
" high points of far outlook," 1 " high-standing headlands,"- 
Delos, though, is his best beloved shrine. 

There lonians, trailing long robes, are wont to assemble. 
With them they bring the wives they wedded, and children 

are with them. 
They meanwhile, on combats of boxing, singing, and dances, 

1 Such is the temple of Apollo at Bassae. 


Always intent, whenever the contest begins, are contented, 
Seeming predestined to live thus ageless for ever and 

The joy of the occasion lent to all that partook of it a 
glamour of immortality ; the stranger standing by thinks he 
is seeing the " Charm of the World," and rejoices exceed 
ingly at sight of "goodly men and women with beauteous 
girdles," of swift ships and abundance of treasures. Finally, 
as a climax to his description of the festal joy, the bard 
exclaims in wondering delight : 

Look ! the daughters of Delos, handmaidens of him the far- 

Singing begin, first of all with hymns in praise of Apollo, 

Of Leto next they sing, and of Artemis shooting her arrows. 

Heroes of old they praise, and the glories of men and of 

The tribes of mankind are enchanted with these songs 

All men s manner of speech, the Castanet s rhythm and 

Well they counterfeit all, so that each would feel sure he 

had spoken, 
Spoken himself, so deftly devised are their songs and so 


This is the earliest record of the Ionian festival in honour 
of Delian Apollo, and after reading this, it becomes difficult 
to believe that Apollo was of purely Dorian origin, as some 
have maintained. 1 

A later testimony to this earliest festival of Apollo at 

1 As this Homeric Hymn throws a welcome light upon Delos, it is satis 
factory to note, before turning away from it, that inscriptions found on the 
island have thrown light upon the questioned authenticity of its second 
part. See the interesting article by Gabriel Daures on " Excavations at 


Delos is found in Thucydides (iii. 104) above referred to. 
From him we learn that it was a yearly celebration, and 
did not occur every fourth year like the festival called the 
Delia, founded at Delos by Athens in 426 B.C. 

In fact the successful attempt begun in that year by the 
Athenian democracy to supplant the local traditions of 
Delos by closely allied Athenian ones, and the remodelling 
of the ancient Apollonian festival, has given rise to much 
confusion both in mythology and ritual. It would be useless 
to attempt now a disentanglement of such confusion. It is 
enough to bear in mind what M. Homolle has so clearly 
pointed out, that (i) the earliest festivals described in the 
Homeric Hymn were quite distinct both from (2) the 
Athenian Delia which supplanted them, and also from (3) 
the festival called the Apollonia, which was an attempt to 
revive something like them, made so late in the day that 
all the traditions that surrounded the Homeric bard had 
died away. The Apollonia were celebrated during the 
century and a half of independence enjoyed by Delos. The 
last stage of Delian merry-making begins in 166 B.C., a year 
memorable for the final reappearance at Delos, under Roman 
auspices, of Athenian power. Abundant testimony from the 
end of the second century B.C. tells of the second revival of 
the Delia l in those latter days. The celebration was only 
in part religious and, as had been the case with every 
festival ever celebrated at Delos, there was also a sort of 

Delos," Nouvelle Revue, Sept. 1880. M. Homolle found an inscription 
which proves that the last half of the hymn was called Homeric in the 
third century B.C., not only popularly but by a competently qualified 

1 Thus, to summarise, the Delia were founded in 426 B.C., suspended 
in Lysander s day after he took Athens, until 386 B.C. With the second 
sea-supremacy of Athens they were revived and lasted until 330 B.C. , 
then came the revival in 166 B.C. 


fair. 1 But apparently the commercial spirit finally got the 
upper hand in these latest days ; and Delos, at the time when 
Menophanes, a lieutenant of Mithridates, brought final 
destruction upon it, was largely in the hands of enterprising 
Phoenicians, and Jews who knew not Apollo. Delos 
became more famous as the greatest slave market in 
the world than as the birth - place of Leto s twin chil 
dren. Perhaps it was some sense of the incongruity of 
this which made the praises of Delos so irksome a theme 
to Virgil. 

But even in Virgil s day the eye of faith could see much 
that was beautiful and inspiring. All the shrines at Delos 
had been deserted for years before Ovid wrote his descrip 
tion of Candida Delos crowded with gifts from kings and 
peopled everywhere with votive statues. But still the 
splendour of Athenian festivals there celebrated irradiated 
the memory of what Delos had been. And religious-minded 
and imaginative men remembered more vividly the glories 
of the remoter past when the sordid and commercial thing 
that Delos had become was swept away. Hence, if we try 
to gain some fragmentary knowledge of the manner of 
Athenian celebrations at Delos, we shall but do (as far as 
may be) what those who knew the island in the day of her 
decay and destruction were prone to do. 

The celebration was in mid-spring, before May was one 
week old, lasting at least two days, the first was Apollo s 
birthday, the second was that of Artemis. For this festival 2 

1 Tenos has reproduced in modern Christian times many of the features 
of ancient festivals at Delos. Twice a year the Evangelistria draws crowds 
who come to pray, and many of whom stay to buy and sell. These 
Tenian festivals were begun towards the end of the first quarter of this 

2 I am speaking of the quadrennial festival ; there were minor celebra 
tions on the "off years." 


extensive preparations were made at Athens. Choruses 
were trained, 1 deputations were chosen and qualified, 
victims were bought and put into a good condition for 
sacrifice, the sacred Delian ship was made in every way 
seaworthy, and the signs of heaven were consulted for a 
favourable time of departure. 

The Delian deputation or Theory whose members were 
called by the special name of Deliastae must not be 
confused with the singing choruses of youths and maidens 
that accompanied them. The whole number of celebrants 
who constituted the Athenian contribution to the quad 
rennial festivities at Delos would therefore be very large. 
When Callias, the son of Hipponicus, was the head of the 
deputation, its numbers were 118. Nicias went with 103. 
This whole array, collectively named the Delias, had to 
sail from the Piraeus, and go out past Sunium into the 
open sea where began the Cyclades. As Attic Sunium 
disappeared in the distance, they passed Ceos, Cythnos, 
Seriphos, and Syros on the right, and on the left Andros 
and Tenos. When they came in sight of Myconos to the 
far east, they stopped short of it and ran into the narrow 
and sheltered channel between Delos and Rhenea the gift 
of Polycrates to Apollo. In the beautiful days of late April 
and early May they would have a glimpse from afar of Naxos 2 
and Paros in the southern group of the holy Cyclades. 

1 The choruses from Athens were renowned for beauty and for artistic 
perfections, Xen. Mem. III. iii. 12. The Deliastae a committee in 
special charge of the representation of Athens at the Delian festival were 
chosen from the Eumolpidae and the Kerykes, families identified with the 
worship at Eleusis. They had to see that the deputation took its departure 
as soon as favouring signs appeared in the heavens. The Deliastae were 
required to have passed a year of probation, say in the Marathonian 
Delion. For references and further details see M. Homolle s article 
" Delia" in Daremberg and Saglio. 

2 For views of Naxos, see Appendix XI. i. 84-86. 


Without unfavourable winds the journey could be made 
in four days, although to be sure the ship dedicated to 
Apollo s service was none of the newest or swiftest. This 
Uelian boat was called the Theoris, and was a small old 
fangled craft, with thirty oars, a triaconter, kept always in 
the very best repair. The very faithful tried to believe it 
was the identical boat upon which Theseus set sail for 
Crete, vowing to found a festival for Apollo, 1 , if victory 
crowned his expedition. Evidently other boats were 
needed, for, apart from the five score persons, more or less, 
who had to find ship room, enough victims for a hecatomb 
had to be transported to Delos. 2 Often, too, the high-born 
Athenians who wished their horses to compete in the races 
at the Delian festival 3 must have required additional trans 
port. For Delos still more than Ithaca is and always was 
" a place for goats " rather than horses. In Delos there 
were no wide courses, and no meadow save the one around 
the sacred lake. 4 When the fleet was ready in the harbour 
and the ministrant who made sacrifice daily at the altar of 
Apollo gave word that a favouring flash of lightning 
indicated the right moment for weighing anchor, a wreath 
was set upon the prow of the sacred Theoris and the 
pilgrims sailed away with appropriate ceremonies and the 
singing of songs, which were sung all the way to Delos. 5 

1 Plutarch, Theseus, 23, and cf. Pausanias, VIII. xlviii. 3. 

2 The accounts for 377-374, M. Homolle says, cover a purchase ot 109 
animals for sacrifice. 

3 The Athenians of wealth and position took all this trouble, at the 
time the Delia were first founded, the more readily if the Peloponnesian 
managers of the Olympic games, being Spartan sympathisers, are sup 
posed to have made participation in the races at Olympia more or less 
disagreeable for them. 

4 See Appendix XI. i. 71, 72. 

5 M. Homolle quotes the words aSeis uxrTrep eis A 77X01 TrX/ajy, Parocw- 
iogr. (Gottingen), p. 42. 


Around the sacred boats sent by the state swarmed many 
others carrying pilgrims on their own account, and some 
of them freighted with merchandise. The same thing 
happens to-day, mutatis mutandis^ when the faithful sail 
to Tenos for the festival and fair of the Holy Evangel- 

Perhaps the most memorably magnificent of all these 
sacred embassies to Delos was that already mentioned de 
spatched from Athens shortly after the conclusion of the 
Peace of Nicias. It may be remembered that just before 
this time the repentant Athenians had rescinded their 
harsh decree of banishment, and thus the Delians had 
but recently returned from exile. This sacred embassy 
was headed by Nicias, an Athenian whose rather mechani 
cal piety coupled with misfortunes bravely borne made 
his career most touching, and all but nobly tragic. In 
company of a number of boats bearing the youthful 
chorus, and of other craft of the heavier kind for freight, 
the Theoris brought up not, as in former years, in Delos 
proper, but across the way on Rhenea. This landing 
must have been on the eve of the great Delian festival. 
All night long rumblings and voices were borne over 
the waters to the listening Delians. In the morning a 
gorgeous pontoon bridge connected Rhenea with the Holy 
Island. Across it came the procession and Nicias, all in 
festal array, and wearing golden crowns. After the bridge 
was crossed they passed northward singing all the way to 
where in later years the roadway was hemmed in by the 
portico of Philip (the Fifth of Macedonia), and they entered 
the precinct by a Ceremonial Gate (the southward gate 
built by the Athenians). After this, they moved northward 
still, passing to the westward of the great temple of Apollo, 


and also of the smaller temple of Leto by its side. The 
processional way here as at Eleusis was lined on either side 
with various statues and monuments, and these were more 
numerous as the neighbourhood of the temple was reached. 
After joining the sacred way that led inward from the larger 
North Propylaea, Nicias came to the ancient temple of 
Artemis or, as some think of the Seven Gods. 1 Here were 
deposited the laurel crowns of gold periodically sent to 
Apollo of Delos from Athens during Athenian supremacy. 

After the procession had gone the rounds prescribed, 
visiting shrines and temples, crowning the ancient wooden 
statue of Aphrodite left at Delos by Ariadne, 2 who had it 
from Daedalus, its fashioner, the second stage of the cele 
bration was reached, the sacrifice. 3 The hundred kine 
decked for the offering and with their horns gilded were 
sacrificed on all the altars save one alone the bloodless 
altar of Apollo, the father of the Ionian race. There only 
first-fruits were offered, and no doubt thither the gifts of the 
mysterious Hyperboreans 4 found their way. Then came 
perhaps certain ceremonies of dedication and purification, 

1 The uncertainty about this temple, the existence and approximate 
position of which are known through inscriptions, is due to subsequent 
building, which in the Middle Ages swept all its foundation marks from the 
face of the rock. Here stood perhaps the only Christian building of any 
pretensions that Delos has ever possessed some sort of a chapel built by 
the Knights Hospitallers, which had in turn almost completely disappeared 
when excavations began in earnest under M. Homolle. He found here 
one of the most remarkable statues of antiquity representing, let us say, 
Artemis. Take, if you will, a very tall tombstone and round off its angles 
and corners till its form is nearly cylindrical. Divide the result into three 
parts, not equal, but nearly so, one for the legs, one for the body, one for 
the head. Something should be done, no matter what, about the arms. 
Then your Delian statue of Artemis, not beautiful, but most ancient, is 
complete. Brunn has published it in his Denkmiiler. 

2 Pausan. IX. xl. 3 and 4 ; Callimach. Hymn to Delos, 308 ff. 

3 Plutarch, Nicias, 3. 

4 Mannhardt has an ingenious theory that they were Thracians or 


after which the games began contests of physical strength 
and skill, horse racing, and musical competition. Every 
thing which Athens could do was done here in Apollo s 
honour, with all the more splendour because Athens was 
solely responsible for the festival. Nicias saw, no doubt, 
the older temple of Apollo, supplanted later on by the one 
whose ruins we contemplate to-day. That temple, like its 
successor, fronted eastward and therefore away from the 
channel and towards Mount Cynthus. Between its back or 
western end and the sea stood in the day of Nicias the 
colossal statue of Apollo dedicated by the Naxians. This 
figure towered up to a height of twenty-four feet, and the 
ancient Nicias seems to have been deeply moved by its 
god-like proportions. That he might vie with the ancient 
Naxian worshippers of Apollo, he gave money before he left 
for setting up a colossal palm-tree of bronze by the side of 
their colossus. This was done, and the two stood there for 
many a year side by side. So close were they, indeed, that 
there was a great disaster generations afterwards when a 
windstorm swept across from Tenos, where Aeolus himself 
was housed on Mount Cycnias. The too blustering Aeolus 
visited Apollo s precinct rudely, and caused the brazen 
palm-tree to crash down against the statue of Apollo and 
overturn it utterly. Such was the unlucky gift given by one 
who at the time considered himself no doubt the luckiest of 

But the pious Nicias did more than this : he gave ground 
to the temple worth 10,000 drachmae. He provided that 
the income from this should be spent for celebrating what 
sounds very much like a mass for his soul. He stipulated 
for a yearly sacrifice and an accompanying entertainment at 
which the Delians were to pray for the gods to grant an 


abundant good fortune to Nicias. The time came only too 
soon when Nicias overwhelmed by the incessant agonies 
of the most painful and incurable of diseases needed 
sorely all these prayers and more. A hopeless invalid, he 
died under the most tragical circumstances, slain by decree 
of the Syracusan mob, and at Athens his pious name was 

Such, in outline, was the manner of honouring Apollo 
used by the Athenians during the various periods of assured 
supremacy when Athenian officers took from the Delians all 
control over the concerns of Delian worship. Such was the 
Athenian festival called the Delia and first celebrated in 
426 B.C. 

For the earliest festival we are constrained to fall back 
chiefly upon the pleasing picture of the Homeric Hymn to 
Delian Apollo. A sufficient account of this has been given 
above. There are also some verses of Theognis l more or 
less plainly referring to it. Aside from this we only know 
a detail here and there about ancient images, and remark 
able practices associated with a fabulous and more or 
less prehistoric past. There is the story given by Aris- 

;, avrbs /j.ev etrvpyiiMTas irb\iv 
A\Ka66(f} n^XoTros iraidl 
avrbs 5 arparbv vfipurrriv M^ 
rrjade TrbXevs, iva crot Xaoi i 

Kiddpyis yd eparrj daXtrj 
T ff 

Bergk, 773-779. The last four lines are thus translated by Frere : 

So shall thy people each returning spring 

Slay fatted hecatombs ; and gladly bring 

Fair gifts with chaunted hymns and lively song, 

Dances and feasts, and happy shouts among ; 

Before thy altar, glorifying thee, 

In peace and health, and wealth, cheerful and free. 

382 APOLLO A7^ DELOS vm 

totle x of Pythagoras visit to Delos, wherein we hear that, 
passing others by, he made sacrifice upon the altar of Apollo 
Genetor or Patroos, where the shedding of no blood was 
tolerated. We cannot know what may have been the 
Delian version of the first appearance at Delos of the 
ancient wooden image of Aphrodite, 2 because the Athenian 
tale has alone survived, making it a gift from Ariadne when 
she passed that way with Theseus. That the ante-Athenian 
phase of worship was represented by many curious and 
clumsy works of most primitive art is abundantly shown by 
the seven ancient images discovered by excavation near the 
Delian shrine of Apollo. Of the most remarkable of these 
mention has been made above. 3 Furthermore it appears 
that the mother goddess Leto was represented in her 
Delian temple by a wooden idol more grotesquely in 
adequate, according to later notions of Greek art, than M. 
Homolle s famous Artemis. That the art-critics of later 
times had much to say on this score appears from the 
following anecdote quoted by Athenaeus 4 from Semus, a 
Delian, the loss of whose writings has no doubt deprived us 
of much information about Delos and Delian Apollo. 

Parmeniscus, "the man who never laughed," consulted 
the Boeotian oracle in the dark cave of Trophonius that he 
might in some way break the spell. The god gave him 
answer hexametrically : 

Go to mother at home, honour her with exceeding great 

1 Ar. Fragm. 447, quoted by Diog. Laertius and lamblichus, who 
gives it twice. 

2 For the curious outline of Aphrodite s history at Delos, see 
Appendix X. 

3 See above, note i, p. 379. 4 xiv. 614 B. 


The obedient Parmeniscus sought out his mother, 
and amazed her by his unusual attentions. The effect 
of all this was apparently to make them both more 
hopelessly solemn than ever. Not too many years after 
wards, our solemn friend came to Delos, as Aegean 
voyagers from west to east always did in those days. 
While going the pious rounds on the island Parmeniscus 
worshipped in the Letoon or Temple of Leto, next that of 
Apollo. Accustomed to the more knowing art in vogue at 
his native Metapontum, he was not prepared for the 
wooden idol which represented Apollo s mother in this 
ancient shrine. Therefore on catching sight of the idol his 
devotions were interrupted by uncontrollable fits of laughter. 
Leto, Apollo s mother, was the mother whom he had been 
commanded to " honour with exceeding great kindness." 

Aristotle has quoted in his Ethics l the curious inscription 
which met the eyes of worshippers at this temple of Leto, 

Righteousness the noblest is ; 

Health is better than the best ; 
Sweetest though, of all that is, 

Is getting what you love. 

These words, if connected with Leto, who was "a com 
forter from the beginning, the most soothing presence 
of all on Olympus," must be expressive of her typical 
attitude. Like an indulgent mother with her children, 
she chiefly wished that men should have their heart s 
desire. Attached to the personality of the goddess of 
self- devoted and uncomplaining love, they gain a new 

1 Eudemian Ethics, at the beginning of the first book, and also toward 
the end of the eighth chapter of the first book of the Nicomachean Ethics. 
In the former place it is described as on the Delian Letoon, in the latter 
simply as TO A^Xia/cov e7r-ypa/z/ua. 


and a higher meaning, and with Leto s life to point 
their moral, are full of a religious significance. Therefore, 
it ceases to surprise us to find Aristotle twice quoting 
the saying, and also we can better understand why this 
same sentiment without substantial variation occurs among 
the maxims of Theognis, 1 a poet to whose imagination 
the Delian myth of Leto strongly appealed. 2 Let the 
motto of the Delian Letoon be an offset to the Delphian 
motto, " Know thyself," and temper its too exclusively in 
tellectual bias. Here too is the needed contradiction 
(always given by the heart to the head) of the other 
Delphian motto " Nothing too much." The mother goddess 
Leto was given over to unmeasured love, and the affection 
which her love inspired in her children Apollo and Artemis 
was the best proof that you can never go too far in 

As a touching mark of the spirit of grateful affection and 
simple trust which could find expression at Apollo s Delian 
shrine, the inscribed gift picked up there by Professor 
Ulrichs is very precious. It was a cheap leaden quiver, 
the gift of shipwrecked sailors who had come near to 
starvation, upon which was stamped, 

For by these we were rescued from starving. 

Such indications as a discovery of this kind gives of the 
living spirit of religion working in men s hearts and guiding 
their lives are of far more real importance than the record 
preserved by Callimachus and others of the building of 
an altar by Apollo with materials sought on Mount Cynthus 
by his sister Artemis. 3 It was made, we are told, entirely 

1 Bergk, 255 and f. - See above, note i, p. 381. 

3 Callimachus, Hymn to Apollo, 58-63. 


of horns such as the goddess could gather among the 
granite boulders of that eminence, too irreverently designated 
by the traveller Tournefort as a colline desagreable. Another 
curiosity which attaches itself also to the very earliest forms 
of worship used before the dawn of known history is far 
away from the town of Delos and the precinct of Apollo 
visited by Nicias. For lack of a better name it may be 
called the " Cave Temple of Apollo," x though it has been 
called the " Grotto of the Sun " by Burnouf and the " Cave 
of the Dragon " by another, and more prosaically still by the 
unenthusiastic Tournefort " a stone sentry box." This cave- 
temple is formed by placing aslant against each other, on the 
top of a natural rift in the solid rock, five huge and rough- 
hewn granite slabs, two on the north and three on the 
south. These two rows rest upon and are crowded against 
uneven ledges, rudely fashioned at their lower edges in the 
side of the reshaped rift or gully in the Cynthian mountain 
side. Their upper edges meet together forming the point 
to the most inartificial seeming gable. This appearance 
of inartificiality is enhanced by a heap of granite boulders 
accumulated on the sides of this rude pediment, which 
seems the chance product of nature s workmanship. This 
impression is increased by the circumstance that a huge 
spot at the back of this cave was probably never roofed 
over. Within this strange place, half natural and half 
artificial, half cave and half temple, were found by Lebegue, 2 
who excavated here for Burnouf early in the seventies, 
the feet of what he thinks must have been a fine statue of 
Apollo. A curious stone of unshapely form upon which 

1 For photographs of this and of various Delian scenes, see Appendix 
XI. i. The Cyclades, 71-83. 

2 See for more details his Recherche* sur Dtlos, where M. Burnouf s 
astronomical points are also presented. 

2 C 


these feet rested is talked of by M. Lebegue as undoubtedly 
a Baetylus or fetish stone, which according to this view 
must have been worshipped here, as a cone was worshipped 
in Aphrodite s ancient Paphian precinct. In front of this 
sentry-box cave-temple is a terrace built up by means of 
a most carefully constructed wall. This, though of very 
early workmanship, is of much later date than the cave- 
temple itself. Upon this terrace there are traces of some 
thing like a tomb and of the charred remains of sacrifice. 
Also a stone footing for a very large tripod appears there, 
and furthermore, in front of and close to the cave-temple 
itself is a row of stone bases ; perhaps these were for small 

And now, having given as full an account briefly as 
might be of the Athenian Delia, and of the more ancient 
observances and objects of worship at Delos, what yet 
remains to be spoken of is the festival of Apollo as it was 
celebrated during the day of Delian independence. When 
Athenian interference ceased, the intellectual leadership of 
Athens was still felt, and therefore the new Apollonia, 
which should have been a revival of the most ancient 
observances, were in fact almost the same thing which 
the Athenians called the Delia, only no Theoris came 
from Athens. The four crowns of gold sent periodically 
by Athens while she ruled the festival were sent no more, 
and no more votive gifts were made to the god by 
Athenians. Delos was no longer beautified by Athenian 
architects, such as those whose ruined work is still seen 
in the scattered fragments of the most important temple 
of Delos. 1 It was to the munificence of a Macedonian, 

1 The temple was built about a century after 422 (when Nicias headed 
the Athenian Delias), and certainly before 315 B.C. It was of about the 


Philip the Fifth, that Apollo owed the chief addition to his 
splendid buildings made during the era of Delian in 
dependence. 1 During these years Delos welcomed as the 
votaries of its god not Athenians but merchants from 
Eastern Tyre and Sidon, traders from far-off Panticapaeum 
on the sea of Azof, and also from the far West The 
part in Delian affairs played by the islands round about, 
the Cyclades, was also greater than in the day when Athens 
ruled supreme. Indeed, the sanctuary became a centre of 
Aegean affairs as well as of Aegean religion. It was, as 
M. Homolle puts it, not a place for worship only, but 
equally a " Recorder s office for the safe-keeping of important 
decrees, a sort of treasury department or bank for the 
whole Archipelago, and also a central museum for the 
islands of the Aegean." 2 

Meanwhile festivals under the name of Apollonia took 
place with but few alterations from the Athenian programme 
at the Delia which they supplanted. There were all sorts 

size and dimensions of the Theseum at Athens, it had almost precisely 
the same width, but was appreciably shorter. For all manner of archaeo 
logical details concerning Delos, it is a pleasure to refer to so charming 
a book as that just published by M. Ch. Diehl under the title of Excursions 
arth&logiqves en Gr*ce (Paris, 1890). M. Diehl has written just the 
entertaining and untechnical sort of book which was required, and has 
been extremely happy in what he says about Delos. 

1 The porch of Philip, whose massive blocks form one of the most 
imposing (and to the hasty sightseer impeding) of the present Delian ruin- 
heaps, was built toward the dose of the era of independence, circa iSo 
B.C. It is interesting to the student of architecture, because in it is 
represented the last and worst extremity of die Dork style. Its columns 
have lost the strength and the upbearing swing that belong to those of the 
Parthenon, and are transformed into dull and unprofitable posts. See 
the instructive account of this whole matter in the Antiq ttifies of Ionia, 
Pan IV. 1 88 1, published by the Dilettanti Society. 

5 See in the Bulletin de la sotitU de ftyn&M 4* t cst, 1881 (i 
trimestre), M. Homolle s lecture on Delos given at Nancy. To under 
stand what the temple was, he tells us to combine the Musee de Cluny, 
a garde-meuble, a cour de comtes, the Bank of France, the Credit Fonder, 
and the Madeleine, 


of foot races, the stadion, the diaulos, the dolichos, the 
hoplite race, and there was the pentathlon. Furthermore 
torch races were indulged in. It may be difficult to be 
sure how many of these features were new, and how many 
were simply in continuation of the established Athenian 
programme. It may not be possible to know whether the 
far-fetched practice of horse-racing introduced by the 
Athenians at Delos was maintained by the islanders when 
freed from Athenian supervision. Of one thing though we 
may be certain : there was abundant dancing. One has 
but to visit the Archipelago in carnival time to-day to see 
a tolerably good reproduction in modern surroundings 
of what has always characterised Aegean merrymakings. 
"At Delos," says Lucian, "they could not so much as 
make sacrifices without dancing and music as well." After 
that he proceeds to describe the measures trod at Delian 
merrymakings by especially chosen dancers, and by choirs 
of picked youths trained for the delectation of those who 
resorted to Apollo s festival. 1 

The Greeks of the Archipelago have at all times been 
under the spell of the swaying surges of ocean, which was 
the background of their home life and home joy. These 
islanders live now as of old face to face with the strongest 
moods of the great sea, not as in the far recesses of Venetian 
lagoons, where the whims of ocean are moderated. 
Accordingly, while the graceful swerve of the moderated 

1 This spirit of the ancient dances took shape before my eyes in a 
band of Syriote peasants whom I saw dancing in front of a village church 
on the last day of the carnival. There they were, old men and young 
men, maidens and women of maturer years, all merrily dancing and 
singing, while the kindly priest whom the refrain of their song was chaffing 
looked on contentedly. I recollect particularly the hilarious conduct of a 
certain genial and one-eyed villager, Socrates, who danced until he lost 
both shoes. For a band of Syriote butchers caught and photographed in 
the act of dancing the Caramanian dance, see Appendix XI. i. 64. 


pulses of the sea has shaped the motions of Venetians, 
and lent a swaying outline to the houses men live in at 
Venice, in the Archipelago the very quicksilver rhythm 
and instant sweep of ocean have passed into the limbs and 
hearts of the Greek islanders. 

By the mark of good-humoured merriment and kindly 
spirit of comradeship we know under its modern disguise 
the ancient spirit of Apollo s Delian festivals, which may be 
studied with especial advantage when the faithful gather at 
Tenos. Three neighbouring islands cast lots as it were for 
the rich vestment of sanctity, splendour, and power which 
magnified Delos of yore and exalted Delian Apollo. The 
period of storm and stress which issued in Greek independ 
ence built up at Syra l a great commercial port, instituted 
at Tenos the sanctuary of the Evangelistria, 2 and finally 
assured to the inhabitants of Myconos the possession of 
untenanted Delos and Rhenea. 

To this same establishment of Greek independence we 
owe the opportunity for studying the worship of Apollo at 
Delos unmolested of Turks or other wild beasts. To the 
indefatigable labours and the wonderful resources of the first 
established school at Athens we owe the abundant material 
now open to the student of Delian secular and religious 
antiquities. The head and front of the latest and most im 
portant discoveries there is M. Theophile Homolle. To 
that distinguished scholar we owe the deepest gratitude for 

1 Ross tells of a scheme for diverting the trade of Syra to Delos which 
was seriously considered, but finally abandoned early in this century. 
See for the best account of the growth of Syra, Loukis Laras, by D. 
Bike"las (the English translation is by Mr. Gennadius). For pictures of the 
modern life of the Cyclades, see Appendix XI. i. 58-70. 

2 Agitation for building the church where the miraculous picture is 
housed began about 1820, just at the time when the picture itself had 
been unearthed in accordance with the dream which persistently visited a 
pious nun of Tenos. See Appendix XI. i. 87. 


all the self-denying enthusiasm and undiscouraged perse 
verance which have led to his brilliant results. The work 
which shall embody and bring to a climax all M. Homolle s 
studies is as yet incomplete, but he has already done so 
much with his accumulated material that scholars declare 
him, and rightly, to be one of the few foremost archaeolo 
gists of our day. 


IT is difficult to understand the relation borne by the 
various islands of the Aegean to the worship of Apollo at 
Delos and to each other, without going into the history of 
the two terms Cyclades and Sporades. Neither of these 
terms was known in Homer s or Hesiod s day, and of the 
two the term Cyclades was not only the first to be used 
later on, but was also far more widely known throughout 
antiquity. The word Sporades was used apparently, so far 
as it came into a general usage, by a sort of analogy to 
the use of the word Cyclades. It covers somewhat vaguely 
the smaller islands, too insignificant either to be named 
singly and stand alone or to be classed among the Cyclades. 
In most cases, also, the islands so named are too far away 
from Delos to make the term Cyclades possible for them. 
The Cyclades were certain illustrious * islands more or less 
accurately described as centred around Delos and Rhenea, 
and were especially favoured by Apollo, who colonised them 
through his son Ion ; 2 the Sporades were small islands to 
whose population might be more especially applied the 
Euripidean line (Rhesus, 701), v^a-norrjv a-rropdSa KCKT^TCU 
piov. They were in no sense a group, but were scattered 
broadcast, 3 and each one was so small that any life but an 

1 Theocritus, Id. XVII. 90 and f. 2 Euripides, Ion, 1571-1600. 

3 Etym. Magn. s.v. SiropaSes vrjffoi: ?} dia rb ff-rropddrjv Kc iaOa.i, T) dirb 

TOU cnrapTbv KO.I 


unsettled and vagrant one was more or less difficult upon 
it. As the islands answering to this description were 
chiefly toward the western coast of Asia Minor, there was 
a tendency from the moment the term Sporades came into 
use to divide the islands, as they are now definitely divided, 
into two categories, an eastern one of Sporades, and a 
western one which alone could be called a group of 
Cyclades. But this was never strictly done in antiquity. 

In the Homeric Hymn to Delian Apollo 1 there still sur 
vives a certain confusion noticeable in the Odyssey between 
islands and such peninsulas as were in any literal way 
almost islands ; therefore it would be vain to expect from 
this source any classification of islands. The same imper 
fect knowledge of islands, as such, characterises Hesiod. 
Undoubtedly the notion of a group of Cyclades around 
Delos grew up after the day of the Homeric poems and 
hymns, and its use was at first primarily determined by 
religious and mythological considerations which, being in a 
sense the reverse of geographical, did not require anything 
so definite as a catalogue of islands to which the name was 
applied. Herodotus may have been more definite and 
strictly geographical in his understanding of how the word 
applied. He says nothing, however, to encourage the idea, 
for he declares that none of the Cyclades were subject to 
Darius (v. 30), and means evidently to distinguish them 
from islands toward Asia Minor, whose Ionian inhabitants 
voluntarily submitted to Persia (i. 169). He had no 
general name for these latter, and the only phrase ot 
general import which he uses for all the islands in question 
is "the islands in the Aegean" (ii. 97), where it may per 
haps be claimed that the context suggests chiefly the 
Cyclades. Thucydides, on the other hand, evidently 
thought it important to be rather more clear in his own 
mind about the islands of the Aegean. He speaks (ii. 9) 
collectively of the Cyclades and the islands later known as 
the Sporades as " the islands inside of the Peloponnesus 

1 vv. 30-45. 


and Crete." That he had a definite list or group of islands 
which he designated as the Cyclades is made very probable 
by this same passage, where he uses the phrase, "all the 
Cyclades except Melos and Thera." For the islands after 
wards called the Sporades, Thucydides had no name whatso 
ever, and may so far forth be classed with the early poets and 
Herodotus. In the speech of Athena at the close of the 
Ion, we have finally the most important mention of the 
Cyclades from a religious and mythological point of view. 
There they are plainly mentioned as chosen islands, in 
whose colonisation and civilisation Apollo Genetor or 
Patroos, the patron and father of all lonians, was imme 
diately concerned. 1 This Apolline consecration of the 
Cyclades is often made prominent in later writers, such as 
Callimachus, 2 and there is a trace of it in the general tone 
of Herodotus, who distinguishes the Cyclades from com 
mon islands by saying that they never became subject to 

In the days of the organised Roman empire all this was 
changed ; it became imperative to have clearly defined 
geographical terms, and therefore the religious mystery of 
vagueness in the use of the term Cyclades disappeared. A 
list of Cyclades was made out, and the newer term Sporades 
was applied to the excluded islands, most of them east of 
Delos. It must be remembered, however, that none of these 
were important and well known. Rhodes, Chios, Samos, and 
islands of that ilk, were not counted either as Cyclades or 
as Sporades. 3 A learned Spaniard Hyginus, and the accom- 

1 Ion, 1583. For the point here made it is not necessary to suppose 
that Euripides used the word KVK\ddas as a proper name, though I incline 
to think he does, as do also most editors of the play. 

2 Hymn to Delos, 300 and ff. 

3 The only exception to this would be the name of firapxla v/jcruv 
KvKXdSwv, sometimes given to Diocletian s Insularum provincia. This 
was one of seven subdivisions of the province Asia, and included 53 
islands, among which were Rhodes, Cos, Samos, Chios, Mytilene, 
Methymne, Tenedos, Porselene, Andros, Tenos, Naxos, Paros, Siphnos, 
Melos, los, Thera, Amorgos, Astypalaea. See Marquardt, Romische 
Staatsverwaltung, vol. i. p. 348 ; cf. also note 2, p. 397 below. 


plished Greek geographer Strabo, both of them, give some 
knowledge of the definite and purely geographical meaning 
which in the days of Augustus and later attached itself to the 
two terms in question. Under the title of " Insulae maxi- 
mae," 1 Hyginus begins a long enumeration, where may be 
found Sicily, Sardinia, Crete, Cyprus, Rhodes, Euboea, 
Tenedos, and Corsica. As his very last item he gives a list 
of the Cyclades : " Cyclades insulae sunt novem, id est 
Andros, Myconos, Delos, Tenos, Naxos, Seriphus, Gyarus, 
Paros, Rhene " (Rhenea). The first point noticeable here 
is that the only two islands specifically named by Thucy- 
dides as Cyclades, Melos and Thera, are not included in 
Hyginus list. Another point against the list is that Delos 
and Rhenea appear in it, and thus themselves figure 
among their own surroundings. This is enough to dis 
credit Hyginus list, even if we had not Strabo s. 2 

Strabo has evidently considered the whole question in 
all its bearings, for he not only gives his own opinion in 

1 Fab. 276. Curiously enough Mauritania, Egypt, and Sicyon are 
classed here among insulae. This has something to do with an ambiguity 
in the Latin word insula, which applied to buildings and precincts which 
were definitely marked off from their surroundings. That there was, how 
ever, some real confusion in Hyginus mind is shown by his phrase for 
Egypt: " quam Nilus circumlavat. " 

z See Theocritus, Id. XVII. 58 and ff., where there is a curious reproduc 
tion of the Delian birth legend of Apollo. Ptolemy, whose praises the 
poem sings, was born on Cos, which comparatively unwieldy island cried 
aloud for joy, and took Ptolemy new-born into her arms, exclaiming in 
substance : Blessings on thee, and mayest thou honour me even as 
Apollo honoured Delos, and love me as Apollo loved Rhenea." This 
shows how inseparable were Delos and Rhenea in the poet s mind, and 
makes evident that it was as absurd to count the one as the other among 
the Cyclades. Delos and Rhenea were the centre, while the Cyclades 
were the circumference. In the Encyclop&dia Britannica, be it said, 
only ten Cyclades are named, for two of the twelve there given are Delos 
and Rhenea. Now the only two authorities who name Delos and Rhenea 
among the islands that surrounded them are Hyginus, whose list is of 
nine only, and Stephanus Byzantius, who names twenty-three : twenty- 
one beside the two centre islands. It seems useless to attempt thus to 
tamper with the authorities at this late day, and by far the best considered 
list is undoubtedly Strabo s, from which Delos and Rhenea are excluded. 
See Pauly, s.v. "Sporades. " 


the matter by naming the Cyclades, but also he corrects 
Artemidorus. He enables us, furthermore, to get a fairly 
adequate list of the islands which he considered to be 
Sporades, and he separates from both Cyclades and 
Sporades various important islands and groups of islands 
along the coast of Asia Minor. 

To begin with, Strabo does not regard the Cyclades 
solely as a collective name for a group of islands. They 
are, as contrasted with the Sporades, famous islands singled 
out from among less noteworthy ones : kv 8e ravrats (islands 
near Crete) at re Kv/cAaSes curt Kat at 27ro/)tt8e5, at /xev atai 
^Hi/Tip?? at 8 da-rjfjLorepai, p. 474, book x. ; again in speaking 
of islands in the Aegean sea a much smaller expanse, 
according to his definition of it, than what we call the 
Aegean he says tv 8e TO> Atyatw /xaAAoy airny re rj 
/cat at avrrjv KvtfAaSes /cat at ravrats 
2/7ro>aS9, >v etcrt Kat at Xt ^Oeio a.i Trepl Ttjv KpryTT^v, p. 4^5 
ibid. ; and again, a little farther down the same page, 
Strabo indicates the religious nature of the bond between 
Delos and the Cyclades, not without a confirmation of his 
previous implication that the Cyclades are islands of 
especial note, and therefore set apart from the others. 
These are his words : cvSogov 8 eTrofyo-av avrrjv (Delos) at 
s vfjcroi, KaAoryxevat K/uKAaSes, Kara rt/x^v Trc/xTrowai 
$ea)/)oi;s re Kat 0wrtas Acat ^opovs Tra.p6f.vutv 
Ls re tv avry crvva,yov(ra,L /xeyaAag. The sub- 
stance of this important passage is that Delos largely 
owed its glory to the honours paid it by the surrounding 
Cyclades, whose communities as such constantly deputed 
sacred embassies, provided solemn sacrifices, and sent 
choirs of maidens to add beauty and solemnity to Delian 
festal gatherings. Such in general terms were the Cyclades, 
islands far more noteworthy than the Sporades. A detailed 
examination of Strabo s account and list first of the 
Sporades and then of the Cyclades is now necessary. If it 
be desired to give a list of the Sporades according to 
Strabo, the matter will be a difficult one. But though he 


does not mention all, the following are some of them. 
Thera (p. 484, and cf. p. 485 quoted above), Thucydides 
to the contrary notwithstanding, is one of Strabo s Aegean 
Sporades, Amorgos is distinctly classed as such (p. 487 
end). Anaphe is classed along with Thera (p. 485, cf. 
Apollonius Rhod. iv. 1709), Sicinos, los, Pholegandros, 
and Gyaros, as of the Sporades, so that all insignificant 
islands in the neighbourhood of the Cyclades are added to 
those of equally small pretensions to the eastward the 
Carpathos group, the Calydnae isles, and all manner of 
small fry in the neighbourhood of Rhodes, Cos, and Samos 
these are the Sporades. 1 

And now for the list 01 the chosen Cyclades given by 
Strabo (p. 485, book x.) He says somewhat vaguely : 
" The number given to begin with was twelve, 2 but several 
have been added to the list." Then he quotes Artemi- 
dorus an Ephesian who wrote eleven books on geography 

1 For fuller information from other authors as well as Strabo, see the 
article "Sporades" in Pape s Worterbuch der Eigennamen, where a list 
is given as follows : Anaphe, Astypalaea, Amorgos- Patage, Autoniate or 
Hiera, Ascania, Azibinthia, Atragia, Aigilia, Bouporthmos - Machia, 
Gyaros, Gerus, Donusa, Dionysia, Elaphonesos, Helene and Eulimna, 
Thera, Therasia, Icaria (Icaros), los, Hieracia, Hippouris, Casos, Crapa- 
thos (Carpathos), Calydna and Calydna, Calymna, Cimolos, Cos (Coos), 
Corsia, Cinaethos, Corassiae, Caminia, Cinara, Cythnosa.nd Cothon, Leros, 
Lebinthos, Lea, Melos, Nisyros, Nicasia, Patmos, Proconnesos, Paros, 
Platea, Sicinos, Seriphos, Scylos, Sapyle, Syrnos, Schinussa, Syme, 
Telos, Tenos, Tenedos, Hypere, Pholegandros, Phacusia, Chalcia, Odia, 
Oletandros, Olearos. I have italicised those names which are also to be 
found on Strabo s list of twelve Cyclades. The result is that there are 
sixty-three islands to which, by some one or another, the name Sporades 
has been given, and that only six islands (Andros, Myconos, Naxos, 
Syros, Ceos, and Siphnos) on the usual list of Cyclades have never, so far 
as we know, been classed as Sporades. 

2 Pape, quoting (s.v. Ku/cXds) Steph. Byz., says that according to the 
ancients there were more than twelve, and then gives the list of Stephanus, 
as follows: (i) Aegina ; (2) Amorgos; (3) Andros; (4) Antissa ; (5) 
Aspis ; (6) Astypalaea; (7) Delos ; (8) Icaros; (9) los; (10) Kos ; 
( 1 1) Casos and Nasion ; (12) Cythnos ; (13) Melos ; (14) Myconos ; (15) 
Naxos ; (16) Nisyros; (17) Paros ; (18) Peparethos ; (19) Siphnos ; 
(20) Telos; (21) Tenos ; (22) Tragiae ; (23) Olearos. It will be seen 
that except Cimolos, Syros, Seriphos, and Ceos, all of Strabo s twelve are 
on this list in italics. 


early in the first century B.C. who enumerates fifteen 
Cyclades as follows : (i) Ceos ; (2) Sithnos ; (3) Seriphos ; 
(4) Melos; (5) Siphnos ; (6) Cimolos ; (7) Prepesinthos ; 
(8) Oliaros; (9) Paros ; (10) Naxos ; (n) Syros ; (12) 
Myconos; (i3)Tenos; (14) Andros; 1 (15) Gyaros. Out 
of these Strabo takes, without comment, (8) Oliaros and 
(7) Prepesinthos, and with a reason (15) Gyaros, leaving 
just twelve, which number, he says, figured as that of the 
Cyclades at the very first. It is plain that Thucydides had 
a somewhat different list, since Thera was upon it, an island 
not thought of by Artemidorus, and classed by Strabo among 
the Sporades. 

The reason which Strabo gives for excluding Gyaros 
from the chosen islands is evidently the fact that it was 
bare of all resources. He tells an anecdote to illustrate 
this, and finally quotes a line from the Elegant Trifles of 
Aratus, where Leto is reproachfully apostrophised for 
passing her votary by, even as she passed Pholegandros or 
Gyaros by. Thus we are brought round again to the 
divine selection of certain islands to be the holy Cyclades. 

After the day of Strabo the number twelve was appar 
ently adhered to, for the phrase Dodekanisia Twelve- 
islands survived into Byzantine and mediaeval times, and 
finally seems to have stood for many, if not all, islands in 
the Aegean. 2 The word Archipelago, which arose in the 
later days of Italian supremacy, seems never wholly to 
have lost its reference to the sea. Bursian (quoting 
Forbiger) is my authority for understanding it as a cor 
ruption of Aegaeon pelagos? 

1 It is interesting to note that two of the Bahamas bear the name 
Andros, not, however, taken from the Aegean, but probably from Governor 
Andros of memory unblessed in the colonial records of the United States 
of America. A French navigator also tried to fix the name Grandes 
Cyclades upon a group lying south of the Caroline Islands. 

2 It would seem that Diocletian s e-rrapxia vyvuv l\.vK\d8wv survived 
under this altered name, which corrected the implication that all its fifty- 
three islands were of the sacred twelve. 

3 Bursian, iii. p. 351, notes ; Forbiger, Handbuch der alien Geographic, 
ii. p. 19 ff. : Alyatov TrtXayos, Aegeopelago, Agiopelago, Azopelago, 


It remains now to consider what are the modern 
Cyclades and Sporades. The modern Department of the 
Cyclades covers practically all islands that group them 
selves around Delos, Rhenea, and the twelve Cyclades of 
old. These are those islands lying east of the Pelopon 
nesus and north of Crete which are not misruled by Turkey, 
but enjoy freedom under the kingdom of Greece. East of 
these lie the Turkish islands, to which (large and small 
alike) is given the name of Sporades. Certain Greek 
islands, north and east of Euboea, are now sometimes 
called the Northern Sporades, a convenient use of the term 
which Strabo would not have found it easy to understand. 

Archipelago. The form Arcipelago occurs first in a treaty of June 3oth, 
1268, between Michel Palaeologus and Venice. 



PAUSANIAS (IX. xl. 3), in speaking of ancient wooden idols 
(oava) traditionally attributed to Daedalus, says: "The 
Delians also have a rather small wooden image of Aphro 
dite, the right arm of which by the lapse of years has 
suffered grievous disfigurement. The lower part of it is 
square, and there are no feet. I am convinced that 
Ariadne received this image from Daedalus, and that when 
she went with Theseus she took it with her from home. 
Now the Delians say that when Theseus had been parted 
from her he dedicated the image to Delian Apollo, that he 
might not, by bringing it home with him, have the remem 
brance of Ariadne revived and be constantly renewing his 
griefs l on account of the love of her." 

The form in which Pausanias gives this legend, which is 
no doubt its latest one, throws an interesting light upon the 
following observation 2 of M. Homolle : " II n est pour ainsi 
dire, pas une legende delienne qui n ait sa contre-partie dans 
une legende athenienne, 3 destinee a prouver la primaute 
religieuse d Athenes et ses droits sur De los." In the above 
passage of Pausanias we read an Athenian legend which had 

1 Paus. I. xxii. 5. - Note 32 to his article " Delia" above quoted. 

, 3 This is true even of the birth-legend of Apollo and Artemis^ partially 
transferred by Attic legend to Cape Zoster, in Attica. Pausanias, I. xxxii. 
i. Cf. Baiter and Sauppe, Orat. Att., Hyperides, fr. 286, 39, and 286, 65. 


evidently driven the original Delian account of the ancient 
statue of Aphrodite from the minds even of the native 
Delians. If Theseus played any part in their original story, 
it was probably not the beau role of a faithful lover ; it is 
only or chiefly in Athenian legends that Theseus is the 
plaintiff (o dfaipeOek). 1 

This story of Theseus then may be classed with the 
other Attico-Delian legend to the effect that Theseus taught 
the islanders their characteristic crane-dance. They danced 
this around the altar of horns in a strange building 2 placed 
in front of Apollo s Delian temple, which has been ingeni 
ously described under the name of the Hall of Bulls. This 
dance is reported to have been a representation of the way 
of Theseus through the mazes of the Cretan Labyrinth. If 
the name crane-dance implies resemblance to the lines of 
flocking cranes that move across Greek skies, then the 
comparison to Theseus in the Labyrinth falls of its own 
weight, and a far nearer parallel is the modern peasant s 
dance called the Syrtos. 3 

To reconstruct the forgotten Delian legend of the 
crane-dance would be as impossible as to ascertain what 
account the ancient Delians gave of their wooden idol of 
Aphrodite. It is probable that anciently the local cults of 
Delos and Naxos were most closely united ; the antiquity of 
the colossal statue set up by the Naxians at Delos proves 
their especial devotion to Apollo, as do also abundant 
traces of his early worship on Naxos. The reasons for 
identifying Ariadne with Aphrodite, as one phase of that 

1 Cf. Pausanias, X. xxix. 4. 

2 It appears to have been upwards of 220 feet long and only 40 feet 
wide. See M. Homolle s account in the Bulletin de Correspondance 

3 This dance is consecrated in the minds of Greek patriots by the fact 
that it is associated with the heroic defence of the Khan of Gravia. There, 
as the enemy approached, and it became evident that a picked company 
must stand out against them, the gallant Odysseus led off the Syrtos 
whereby he gathered his chosen band of 180 into the Khan of Gravia, 
that modern Greek Thermopylae whose Leonidas survived with nearly all 
his men. 


elusive godhead, are abundant, and therefore it seems likely 
that the most ancient worship of Aphrodite at Delos was 
the same in origin with that of Ariadne upon Naxos. There 
appear in fact to have been two aspects of this Aphrodite- 
Ariadne, (i) the one whom Dionysus espoused, a triumph 
ant and immortal goddess, (2) she who was forsaken of 
Theseus and doomed to a lonely death. As the spring 
time bride of Dionysus, Ariadne was the gladsome spirit of 
love and vegetation. As the forsaken spouse of Theseus, 
she was that same spirit doomed to a wintry eclipse. Both 
of these phases recur in Cypriote as in Assyrian legends. 
In Cyprus Aphrodite was entombed as Ariadne-Aphrodite. 
The legend of Theseus abandonment of Ariadne in the 
form less creditable to him was also current in Cyprus. 

The other links between Delos and Aphrodite, not the 
Paphian goddess in particular, but the goddess at large, and 
more especially her eastern prototypes and parallels, belong 
to the latter days of Delian independence and to that final 
period when, after 166 B.C., Delos was restored to control 
nominally Athenian but really Roman. This was a time 
when distinctions between the gods of one people and 
those of another were falling away, and when each god of 
Greece and Rome tended to become every other one. By 
this time Apollo certainly may well have begun to feel that 
he had little pre-eminence at Delos, and could hardly 
recognise in the great emporium for buying and selling 
slaves the island of his birth. 

Not far from the most ancient cave temple on the flanks 
of Mount Cynthus was set apart what may be called the 
precinct of the foreign gods, and there an inscription has 
been found to Eros Harpocrates Apollo}- 

Here is combination and to spare. In the Eleusinian 
rites divinities such as Rhea Cybele and Demeter were 
merged into one, but only in the fulness of time, when 
their worships and their stories, after running parallel, had 

1 See upon this whole subject two admirable articles by M. Hauvette 
Besnault in the Bulletin de Correspondance Helttnique for 1882. 

2 D 


gradually been united. This gradual fusion was impossible 
in the case of Apollo and Harpocrates or Horus, two names 
for one Egyptian god whose resemblance to Apollo was 
purely superficial. Through this Egyptian interloper Apollo 
on his own native soil becomes one with the god Eros, and 
thus enters into union with Aphrodite the mother of all 
loves. But perhaps this point should not be insisted upon, 
and we should rather say that the precinct of the foreign 
gods on Mount Cynthus of Delos became foreign soil, 
where Apollo was neither really himself nor even first among 
the strange gods who there broke down the reserve of his 
nature and made themselves identical with him. Such an 
exterritorial character in this precinct seems implied by an 
inscribed enumeration of divinities where Apollo is neither 
first nor last among a whole procession of Egyptian gods 
and goddesses Harpocrates, Serapis, Apollo, Isis, and 
Anubis. This precinct was certainly not in existence until 
the days of the breaking up of pagan divinities, and its 
Egyptian gods were unknown in the early days of the purer, 
nobler, and more exclusively Grecian rite of Delian Apollo. 
And yet its nearest neighbouring shrines are the oldest on 
the whole island. The precinct itself is on the western 
slope of Mount Cynthus, next to the most ancient holy way. 
This holy way led from the summit where was the old- 
time temple of Zeus Cynthius and Athena Cynthia to 
that mysteriously primeval place of Delian worship called 
the cave-temple of Apollo. Near by and a little below on 
the downward journey to the plain and city of Delos lay 
this precinct of the foreign gods. In it were two diminutive 
temples or shrines, one of Serapis and one of Isis. Just 
below and northward runs the bed of a ravine bordered by 
what is believed to have been the Cabirion, a temple for 
the worship of the more or less unclean and unmentionable 
Cabiri. 1 These gods came originally from Phoenicia, and 

1 The German School at Athens made important discoveries in 
excavating the Cabirion close to Thebes in Boeotia. This was in the 
winter 1888-89. 


were associated with the mysteries of Samothrace, a north 
ward island where were cultivated the less noble and more 
questionable aspects of a nature worship in substance not 
unlike that of Eleusis. 

The presence here of Phoenician Cabiri may prepare us 
for another Phoenician divinity with whom we have been 
lately occupied : I mean the so-called Syrian goddess. The 
ready confusions and hastily made conglomerations of latter- 
day pagan worship are nowhere more conspicuous than in 
the latest, the cosmopolitan era of Delos. No worship 
more fully illustrates it than this of Syrian Aphrodite. We 
must not, though we rightly call her Aphrodite, connect her 
too closely with the Paphian goddess. On the other hand 
she was in the latter days not purely Phoenician, but was 
associated in worship with Egyptian Isis ; and her cult, 
with that of the other strange gods in this precinct, was 
supervised and administered by Greek officials. 

This had a curious result, i.e. the establishment by 
Phoenicians under native management of a second worship 
of the Syrian goddess Atargatis. The reason for this striking 
duplication of sanctuaries and observances in honour of 
one and the same goddess is that newly arrived Syrians, 
merchants fresh from Beyrut, from Antioch and from Sidon, 
found at Delos, in the Syrian goddess worshipped in Greek 
fashion on the north-western spur of Mount Cynthus, 
nothing which they recognised as their own. 

Three several times, then, and under three guises, did 
Aphrodite visit Delos. Once as Ariadne forsaken of the 
hero Theseus, once as a sort of Isis in the company of the 
Cabiri and the chief gods of Egypt, and once as the 
Atargatis worshipped by the Phoenician and Syrian colony 
established for commerce in later days. 



N.B. By the kindness of Mr. Leaf I am able to place certain 
numbers on his list^ as well as many upon that for which 
I am now chiefly responsible^ at the disposal of those who 
might wish to procure illustrations. The lists in question 
are issued by the Society for the Promotion of Hellenic 
Studies. Those of my readers who belong to that society 
can procure all these and many other Greek pictures at 
cost price. Those who are not members of the Hellenic 
Society will Jind below the prices at which they can pro 
cure various illustrations as enumerated. L. D. 


Notice. These photographs measure 8x6 inches and 
may be procured at a cost, including postage, of 123. per 
dozen from Messrs. Walker & Boutall, 16 Clifford s Inn, 
Fleet Street, London, E.G. Single prints may be obtained 
at is. each. 




1. The Theatre of Dionysus. 

2. A Cyclopean wall (near the Asclepieum). 

3. A Cyclopean pit (near the same). 

7. The Bastion of Odysseus, the defender of Gravia (since 


8. The Propylaea (from Cimon s Wall). 

9. ,, ,, (from the top of the Parthenon). 

14. The Parthenon, N.W. corner through a Byzantine arch 
of the Erechtheum, showing in the middle dis 
tance foundations attributed to the age of Pisis- 

1 8. The same (foundations seen from the roof of the 
Acropolis Museum). 

2 1 . An ephebus (of the Apolline type). 


23. The Temple of Zeus (Olympieum) connected by its 
final dedication with the deification of the Roman 
emperors and the Bed of Illissus. 

25. Aphrodite and Eros (terra cotta). 


30. A satyr found near Lamia. ;. 

32. A sleeping maenad found S. of the Acropolis. 




34. Colonos, the Cephissus (crossed lower down by the 

Eleusinian procession). 

35. Hill of Demeter Euchloos. 


40. The babe Plutus found in the water near Eetionea 
(Central Museum). 


42. General view including the "Secos." 

43. Lower gateway, medallion. 

44. Appius Pulcher s gateway, debris. 


46. Rapendosa valley and cave. 

47. cave. 

48. View from the brow of Rapendosa cliff, forming the 

Sto Dionyso valley towards Marathon and Styra 
in Euboea. 

49. View from the same toward the Pentelic range. 


50. The ruined church untouched. 

51. The ruined church pulled down. 

52. Replica of " Marathonian Soldier," a head (archaic) 

and a Bas-relief (stele). 

53. The replica and a muleteer. 

54. A crown of Icarian ivy devoted to Dionysus. 

55. A bas-relief from the Icarian Pythion. 




56. The temple of Athena, near view. 

57. The same, far view, being "Cap Colonnas." 



58. Old Syra The Roman Catholic Upper Town. 

59. The same (distant view). 

60. A glimpse down a street of Old Syra. 

6 1. Hermupolis Shipping, a Chiote Bombarda. 

62. ,, ,, a Perama. 

63. a Trechanderi from Siphnos, 
a Goelette and a Trechanderi from Santorin 

64. " La Caramanienne " performed by Syriote butchers. 

65. The Psariana. 

66. The Potamos : a street in Hermupolis. 

67. Episcopio, view from the church terrace (inland). 

68. The same, towards Rhenea. 


69. Stele from Paros, a poor man s gravestone. 

70. Inscription from los. 


71. The Lake of Leto. 

7 2. Mount Cynthus, from the lake. 

73. ,, from Apollo s temple. 

74. Mount Cynthus, Cave temple from a Roman house. 

75. ,, Cave temple (foundations). 



77. Temple (on the slope of Mount Cynthus). Draped 

female statue of Isis. 

78. Portrait-statue of Caius Ofellius by Dionysius and 

Timarchides of Athens. 

79. Ruins of Apollo s temple. 

80. Acroterion from same (Central Museum). 


82. The Naxian Colossus. 

83. Rhenea from Mt. Cynthus and the lesser of the 

Rheumatiari Reefs. 


84. The Gateway of Dionysus. 

85. Mt. Coronis. 

86. The Valley of Paratrecho, and Mt. Zia or Ozia. 


87. Mt. Burgo and the Sanctuary of the Evangelistria. 



88. St. Nicholas monastery, a ruin near Cape Gatto. 

89. The castle of the Knights Templars at Colossi. 


90. The ruins at Old Paphos (Couclia), after the British 


91. Inscription from Old Paphos (elaeochristion). 

92. The Eros of Paphos, from temple of Aphrodite. Ibid. 

93. Same, profile view. 

94. A terra cotta head from Old Paphos. 

95. The Coucliote Diggers at Old Paphos. 

96. The Bleeding Column, New Paphos. 




97. A tomb and a monastery at Lapethus. 

98. A Byzantine fort in Cerynia. 

99. The cloister at Bello Pais. 

100. The castle " Dieu d Amour." 


10 1. The rampart and moat of Famagosta. 

102. St. George and the cathedral-mosque of Famagosta. 

103. Famagosta cathedral, from the rampart. 

104. The same, nearer view. 

105. The same, chantry door. 

1 06. The same, minaret. 

107. Gateway of the Lusignan palace at Famagosta. 


1 08. St. Sophia, the cathedral-mosque of Nicosia. 



109. The temple of Athena, from below, 
no. The same from nearer N.E. 

in. S.E. 


112. Tiryns citadel from the west. 

113. The same, gallery toward Nauplia. 

114. Argos museum, a Medusa. 

115. Mycenae, the Lions gate. 

1 1 6. A Cyclopean bridge near Epidaurus 

117. Theatre seats at Epidaurus. 

1 1 8. (orchestra) ,, 

119. (stage) 




120. The battlefield of Tegea. 

121. Heads from a Tegean temple (of Athena Alea), C.M. 

122. Bassae-Phigalia, temple from N.E. 

123. The same, interior. 


124. Sellasia valley (Skiritis). 

125. The valley of the Eurotas from Vrylias (Skiritis). 

126. Spartan museum, the Omphalos relief. 

127. An Amazon, etc. Ibid. 

129. The Langgada. Pass (Taygetus) and distant Parnon. 

130. The summit of Langgada Pass, Mt. Rindomo (Biscuit- 


131. The same in another direction, southerly Mt. Pigadia. 


133. Ruins of the Heraeum from the gymnasium. 

134. The Hermes (bearing the babe Dionysus) from the 

Heraeum, now in the Syngro Museum. 

135. Temple of Zeus, from Pelopion, E.J 

136. W.| 

137. The same, Metope, Nemean labour of Heracles, 

Syngro Museum. 

138. The same, Metope, Athena, nearer and front view. 

139. ,, Augean labour, Syngro Museum. 

140. ., the fetching of Cerberus, Syngro 


141. Western pediment, Syngro Museum. 

142. Eastern 

143. ,, Apollo from western pediment, Syngro 


144. The Kladeos, from the eastern pediment. 

145. The same, debris on the south side. 

146. A well near the same. 

147. N.W. entrance of the Stadium. 

148. A pugilist of note, bronze in the Syngro Museum. 




149. A view toward Ithaca from the road near Same. 


150. View from Mount Aetos northward. 

151. View on Mount Aetos (cyclopean wall of "Odysseus 

castle "). 

152. The Grotto of the Nymphs (so called). 


These Photographs measure about 7x5 inches, and may 
be procured at a cost of is. each in silver, or is. 6d. in 
platinum, from Mr. CASSTINE, Photographic Studio, Swanley, 
Kent. Platinum is recommended only for those marked 
with an asterisk. The profits on the sale will go to the 
Homes for Working Boys, Swanley. 


2. *The British School : Lycabettus in background. 

4. *The Acropolis from monument of Philopappus. 

5. *The same : larger scale. 

7. * Acropolis from Areopagus. 


33. * Sekos from S.W. angle. 

34. - f View towards S.E. 

35. 36, 37- Sekos from N.W. angle. (These three form 

a panoramic view.) 

38. *Precinct of Pluto from S. 

39. *Precinct of Pluto from N. 

40. * Substructures of Sekos. 




42. *From S.E. 43. *From N.E. 

44. *From E. 45. *From N. 

46. *From W. 47. * Interior, looking W. 


51. Theatre at Amphiareion. 

52. *The same, showing Proscenium. 

53. *The same, from N.W. 

56. *The same, showing Seat of Priest. 


65. Temple from N.E. 66. Temple from E. 


73. * General View. 

74. ^Substructure of Peribolos and Athenian Stoa. 

76. *Castalian Spring. 

77. ^Relief in Museum. 


80. Church, West Front. 

8 1. Church, South Side. 

82. 83. East End (these two form a single view). 

86. General View from S.E. : Parnassus in background. 


87. General View : Hill of.Ascra to right. 

88, 89. Proscenium of Theatre. 



* # * These are selected from the list of eighty-nine small 
photographs which are already accessible to members of the 
Society for the Promotion of Hellenic Studies. They are 
also to be had by the public at large through the Autotype 
Company, at No. 74 New Oxford Street, London, W.C. 


1. Athens from the Monument of Philo- 

pappus . . . . 17^x1 1 1 in. 

2. Temple of Sunium, from N.E. . ,.. 17^ x nj ,, 

3. Temple of Sunium, East end . . 17 J x 12 ,, 

4. Temple of Corinth . . \~ . 17^x11 

5. Delphi: General View . . 17! x n 

6. Delphi : Peribolos Wall and Stoa of the 

Athenians . . .17^x11,, 

7. Eleusis : Remains of the Hall of the 

Mysteries. .- . . 17^ x n| ,, 

8. Eleusis: Precinct of Pluto . I 7i x IT i 

9. View of St. Luke, Stiris : Parnassus in 

the background . . . i7jxn| 



ACTS, chap, xiii., 290 

Adams, Henry, History of United 
States, 267 

Aelian, story of the cure of a horse 
by Serapis from, 254 

Aeneas Sylvius de Piccolomini, 326 

Aeschylus, Edoni, fr. 55, 158 ; 
Eumen. 22 ff. , 23 ; Prom. 806, 177 

Agnese, Battista, Portulano of, de 
scribed, 329 f. 

Allen, Professor F. D. , on the Uni 
versity of Leyden, 347 

Ameis-Hentze s Iliad, 317 

Andocides, de Mysteriis, 110-112, 

^ 75 

Anthology, ix. 75, 108 

Anthropological Institute, Journal of, 
i6 9 i. 

d Anville, Recherches Gtographiques 
sur I ile de Chypre, 326 

Apollinaris Sidonius, witness for 
Apollonius, 265 f. 

Apollodorus, Bibliotheca, I. iii. 5, 49; 
I. v. 2, 64 ; I. v. 4, 63 ; III. x. i, 
1 1 9 ; III. xiii. 6, 6j ; III. xiv. 7, 
sos, 107 

Apollonius Rhodius, iv. 1709, 396 

Apollonius of Tyana, letters attri 
buted to, xxxiii. , 22 3 

Apuleius, 261 f. 

Arabantinos, work on Epirus, 89 

Aratus, Elegant Trifles by, 397 ; 

Phaen. 91, 138, in 
Archaeological Society, the Greek, at 

Eleusis, 186 
Archaeology (American], Journal of , 

2, 104 

Archtologique, Revue, 227, 229 
Archilochus, Frag. 3, Frag. 51, j6j 
Architects, Royal Society of British, 
Proceedings of, 232, 314 ; plan 
reproduced from, 398 
Aristides, prayer of, to inspired 

dreams, 236, 242 

Aristophanes, Birds, 28, schol. on, 
874, 8^, 96. Frogs, jibes at 
Dionysus, 78 ; 312, 154 ff. , 316- 
459, 212 ; 372-459, 185 ; schol. 
on 158, 181. Schol. on Knights, 
697, 707. Peace, 374, 181. 
Plutus, 727, 177. Thesmophoria- 
zousae, 68, Wasps, 9, 85 
Aristotle, Const. Ath. onEpimenides, 
123 f. ; 3, j-jo; 13, 129; 15, 
126, 137; 16, 126. Eth.Eud.\.\ 
init. Eth. Nicom. i. 8 fin. , 383. 
Fr. 447, 382. Politics, v. 9, 
129 ; v. 12, 126. Rhetoric, iii. 
1 6, cites Antigone, 911 f., 166. 
irepl 6av^,a.ff nt3v aKova/jidruv, cxxii. 

133- 93- 
Artemidorus, on the Cyclades, 395 f. 



Athenaeus, Deipnos. ii. 40 A, /// ; 
iii. 78, 82 ; 416 B, 57 ; 533 C, 
125 ; 609, 126 ; xiv. 614 B, 382 

Attar, Leonida, unpublished map of 
Cyprus by, 287 

BACCHYLIDES, fr. 64, 62 

Bachut, E., Histoire de la Mtdecine, 

etc., no 

Backofen s Mutterrecht, 168 
Baglione, life of Astorre, 332 
Bahr, on Orpheus, in Pauly, 127 
Barry, F. W. , Report on Census 

of Cyprus, 1884," 272 
Bartolommeo "da li Sonetti," 

rhymed account of Venetian 

islands by, 330 ; on Cythera, 286 ; 

sonnets on " Sdiles, " 356 
Bayle s Dictionary, translated in 

1735, 266 

Bede, Commentary on the Acts, 290 
Benndorf, 795 
Bentley, 775, 262 
Bergeat, Herr Alfred, researches of, 

on Cypriote geology, 275 f. 
Bergk, Griechische Litteratur- 

geschichte, 112, 317 
Bernhardy, G. , Griechische Litter- 

aturgeschichte, 115, 116, 123, 

127, 736, 317. On Philostratus, 

Bibliotheque Nationale, Dante (148 1 ) 

from the Vatican in the, 331 
Bie, Oscar, Die Musen in derAntikcn 

Kunst, 104 
Bikelas, D., on Greek doctors, 267 

ff. ; Loukis Laras by, 389 
Birdwood, Sir George, K.C.I.E. , 

85 ; on Dionysus, 164 f. 
Birmingham Speculative Club, essay 

read before the, 226 
Blaeuw, Atlas Major of John and 

William, 343, 346 f. 
Boccaccio, Teseide, VII. stanza 43, 

Boissier, Gaston, La religion Ro- 

maine," 15 
Bordone, Benedetto, Isolario of, 

328 i. 

Braun, Kmil, Dr. , Kimstvorstellungen 

des gefliigelten Dionysus, 779 
Brenzone, life of Astorre Baglioni 

b y. 332 

Hritannica, Encyclopaedia, article 
"Cyclades," criticised, 394 

British Museum, additional MSS., 
Earl of Guilford, No. 8630. 

Brown, Horatio F. , The Venetian 

Printing Press, 329 
Brucker, James, on Meursius, 

Brunn, Denkmdler der Antiken 

Kunst, by Dr., 795, 249, 270, 

Buck, Carl, on the American find at 

Icaria, 104 
Bursian, 346, 397 
Bustrone s Istoria di Cipro MSS., 

Byzantius, Stephanus, 394 

CALLIMACHUS, Hymn to Apollo, 58- 
63, 384. Hymn to Delos, 1-5, 
370 \ 30 ff. and 92 f. , 359 ; 82 
ff., 78; 206 ff., 356; 260 ff., 
357 ; 300 ff., 359, 393 \ 308 ff., 

Carr, Lucien, Women among the 

Huron-Iroquois, 777 
Casaubon, Meric, on Apollonius, 

Cassel, Verein deutscher Philologen 

und Schulmaenner at, 104 
Cervantes, " Journey to Parnassus," 

2 4 
Chaucer, " Knight s Tale," 1363, 


Christus Fattens, 4, 139 
Cicero, Ad Atticum, vi. i, i8S\ 

v. 15, vi. i, 258. Phil. II. xliii. 

no, XIII. xix. 41, 37 
Cicogna, 331 
Claudian, on Cyprus, 274 
Clement, of Alexandria, Protrept. iii. 

ad fin., 309 ; p. 3. 7 77 
Clement the Roman, Homil. v. 23, 




Colvin, Mr. Sidney, on the Homeric 
Hymn to Demeter, 54 f. , 37 f. , 

Comparetti, on date of Orphic frag 
ments, 181 

Corlieu, " Atude me"dicale sur la 
retraite des 10,000," 225 

Cornhill, vol. xxxiii. June, 1876, 

Coronelli, I solaria of, 343 ; Morea 

of, 288 
Correr Museo, unpublished map in, 

Cudvvorth, 265 f. 

DANTE, Par. xix. 22, 74 ; xxi. 71, 

Daremberg, Charles, Etat de la 
Mtdecine entre Homere et Hippo- 
crate, 226 ; on Hippocrates, irepi 
ei}<r%77/iocn;i>?7S, 2jS ; Histoire des 
Sciences Mtdicales, 223 ; etudes 
d arche"ologie me"dicale sur 
Homere," 227 ; list of Alexand 
rine doctors, 2ig 

Daremberg et Saglio, Dictionnaire 
des Antiquit^s, 66, i8j f . , 363, 
371, 376 f. , J99 

Daures, Gabriel, on " Delos," 373 f. 

Dawkins, Mr. Clinton, 164 

Diehl,Ch. , Excursions archtologiques 
en Grece, 387 

Dilettanti, Society of, Unedited 
Antiquities of Attica, i86\ Anti 
quities of Ionia, 387 

Dindorf, rejects Bacch. 286-297, 767 

Dio Cassius, 37 f. , 261 

Diogenes Laertius,- 125, 382 ; a 
quotation from Aristotle by, 382 

Domenichi, Ludovico, Facezia, 331 

Dorpfeld, Dr. William, i, 186, 194, 
197, 202 

Dryden, Palamon and Arcite, 286 

Duemmler, account of an early 
Semitic occupation of Cyprus, 280 

Duncker, 272 

Dyer, L. , 779 

Epdoft&s, Athenian periodical, 89 

Eckermann, Conversations with 
Gothe, 162, 166 

Edinburgh, Philosophical Institute 
of, 3 

Egger, A. E. , /j 

Emperius places the Satrachus at 
Paphos, 346 

Engel, "Cyprus," j/j f., 323, 
352 f. 

Epiphanies in Cyprus, 278 f. 

E7ri0ew/)tcrts, Ai>aToAt/c77, Athenian 
periodical, 89 

Erasmus, 237, 260 

Ersch and Gruber, Allgemeine En 
cyclopaedic, Attica, 344 

Etymologicum Magmim, 107, 344, 

J59> 39 1 

Eunapius, 188 

Euripides, Alcestis, 360, 777. Bac 
chanals, 136-162 ; lines 274-276, 

f ^5 : 33 ft. 99 I 3 8 5- 46 ff-, 
287 ; 404 ff. , 348, 352 f. ; 877- 
881, 897-901, 184 ; 1344, 4. 
Electra, 71. Frag. 177, 318 ; 
394. 30 I 752, 23. Hecuba, 457 
ff., 363 ; 459, jj-6 ; 1267, 96. 
Helena, 1098, 304. Heraclidae, 
66. Ion, 23, 3s; 713, j- ; 919 
ff., 364 ; 1571-1600, 391 ; 1583, 
393. Iph. in Tauris, 34 f. ; 
264-274, 146 , 1089-1105, 358, 
363; 1193, 210; 1244, 25 > 
1401 f., jjo. Rhesus, 36, 99 ; 
701, 391. Phoen. 205 ff. and 
226 ff., 25 ; 687, 48 
Eusebius of Caesarea, 263, 290 
Eustathius, on Dion. Per., 344. 
On //. i. 18, 327 ; ii. 637, z6j, 
344 \ vi. 132, 132 
Evenus, of Ascalon, Anthol. ix. 75, 

FABRICIUS, note on Dio, 44, 6, 37 f. 
Felix, Quintus Minucius, the Octav- 

ius of, 8 

Fitzgerald s Rubaiyat, 91 
Foerster, R. , Raub der Kara, 70 
Folk-Lore, J. G. Frazer on May 

festival, 8 



Forbiger, quoted by Bursian, j>p7 f. 
Fortnightly, Mr. Pater s articles in 

the, 27 
Foster, B. W., M.D., Essay read 

before Birmingham Speculative 

Club, 226 

Foucart, M. , work at Delphi, 33 
Fourcade, unpublished report of, on 

Cypriote agriculture, 281 
Frazer, ]. G. , the Golden Bough, 27, 

50, /J9 ; on May festivals, 8g 
Friedlaender, Darstellungen aus der 

Sittengeschichte Rom s, etc. , 8 
Furtwaengler, on Alcamenes Aphro 
dite, 270 ; in Roscher s Lexicon, 


GAILLARD S Medical Journal, 241 

Galen, 23 4 f. 

Gardner, Mr. Ernest, Excavations 

in Cyprus, 305 
Gardner, Professor, on sculptures of 

Dionysus and Icarius, 105 
Gaudry, M. Albert, Recherches 

scientifiques dans V Orient, 275- 

277, 280 
Geel places Satrachus at Paphos, 


Gellius, xv. 10, no 

Gennadius, 389 

Geographical Societies, publications 
of, Berlin, 275 ; de I Est, 387 ; 
Munich, 275 ; France, 275 

Gdographie, Revue de, 324 

Geological map of Cyprus, 275 

Ge"ologique, Socie te , 275 

Gildersleeve, Professor B. L. , Essays 
and Studies, 238 f. , 297, 303 

Girard, Paul, L Ascltpieion, etc., 2 

Gladstone, the Right Hon. W. E. 
on Eumaeus, 47 

Gloucester, Warburton, bishop of, 

Goethe, on Aberglaube, 7 ; wished 
Antigone 904 ff. proved spurious, 
166. The Bacchanals, translation 
from, 162 ; Conversations with 
Eckermann, 162, 166 ; on th 
sublime in Euripides, 162 

Grecques, Association des Etudes 

(Monuments), 70 

regory, St., of Narianzum, 4 

rohs, Hugo, on Dio Cassius, j8 
Sronovius, A., 349 f. ; ]. .,347 

uardia, La Mldecine a travers Us 
Siccles, 226 

HARRISON, Miss Jane, and Mrs. 
Verrall, Mythology and Monu 
ments of Athens, 27 , 106, no, 
no, 124, 176, foj 

Hauvette, M. , on strange gods at 
Delos, 401 

Heffter, j/j f. 

Hellenic Studies, Journal of, 2, 33, 
inf., 181, joj 

HelUnique, Bulletin de Corres- 
pondance, 2, 400 f. 

Hermesianax, of Cyprus, 25- 

Herodotus, i. 14, 02 ; 28, 85 ; 30, 
122 ; 35, 02; 59, 120; 105, 
273 ; 131, 208; 169, J02 ; 199, 
208. ii. 48 f., 164 ; 52, 77 ; 81, 
164 I 97. 39 2 < 146, v6j ; 170, 
357 I 7L jr. iii. 90, 85 ; 97, 
6j; 119, 166. iv. 79, 77 ; 94, 
86. v. 4 f. , 84 ; 30, J02 ; 67, 
IZ 5 74 *9S- vi. 64, 75, 198. 
vii. 6, 127 ; 75, 85. viii. 32, 
sj ; 65, 209 f. ; 138, 02 

Herophilus, 237 f. 

Hesiod, Theogony, 347, 355, 08 ; 
406 ff., J57; 455. 9$ \ 502, 
112 \ 769, 08; 912, jo; 
913, 08 ; 969 ff. , 62, 07. 
Works and Days, 298, j/ ; 463- 
466, jrj ; 466, 32 ; 502, 132 ; 504 
ff. , Ji2 ; 700 f. , JJ9 

Hesychius, 82, 120, 132, 344 

Heuzey, M. , on Demeter Graia, 

Hieronymus, note on Eusebius, 200 

Hippocrates, 220, 223, 225, 234, 
238 ; irepl fixrx r ll JLOff v v n*i 2 3& 

Hogarth, Mr. D. G. , on Aphrodite 
of the Hittites, 320-322 ; Dei ia 
Cypria, 282, 200, 343 

Holwerda, 272 

2 E 

4 i8 


Homer, Iliad, ii. 695, 47. iii. 374, 

316; 413 ft., 27 j. v. 125, 47 ; 

131, 312, 371,382, 316 ; 500, 

^7; 820, 316. vi. 135, 77. 

xiii. 322, 46, 32. xiv. 193, 224, 

316 ; 325, 97 ; 326, 48. xvi. 

514 ff., 29. xx. 105, j/A xxi. 

76, ^r6 ; 416, 316. xxiii. 220, 9^. 

Odyssey, i. 93 f . , 285, <lr. ii. 

125, 48 \ 214, 359, 61. iv. 

83, 2c/ ; 702, 61, v. 123 ft"., 

367 ; 125 ff. , 6.2. vi. 162 ff. , 

SSf. viii. 288, 317 ; 308, j/<5 ; 

363, 287. ix. 196-213, 91. xi. 

97- ; 217, 48. xiii. 250, 67. xv. 

409. 367- xviii. 193, j/7. xix. 

171 ff., 61 
Homeric Hymns, i. 372 ; 16 ff. , 

jj6; 30-45, 392; 53 ff., jj7; 

118 f., Jj6; 135, 139, 357. 

iv. 59, 2c?7 ; 247 ff. , 271, 273. 

v. 54-68 ; 4, 46 ; 272, 2/5. vii. 

28, 284. xvi. .243-. xxxiv. 163 f. 
Homolle, M. The"ophile, 2, 33, 389 f. , 

400 ; work at Delphi, 33 ; lecture 

on Delos, 387 ; article Delia " in 

Daremberg and Saglio, 363, 376 

f-. 399 
Horace, Od. iv. 5, 39, 38 ; iv. 14, 

25. 95 

Hutchinson, W., on Northumber 
land, 49 

Hyginus, Fab., 59, 65 ; 130, /-jj- ; 
147, 64 ; 191, 92 ; 225, 119 ; 
276, JW 

Hyperides, fr. 286 (39, 65), J99 

IAMBLICHUS, a quotation from 
Aristotle by, 382 

Imola, Benvenuto da, Commentary 
on Dante, 25 

Im Thurm, testimony on couvade, 

Inscriptions, 43 ; C.I.G. 3525, 14 
C.LL. iii. i, 685, 87 ; found at 
Delos, 274, 373 ; found at Epi- 
daurus, M. Kabbadias and the, 
2 37 ] P- Six on Cypriote coin 
bearing an, 344 

Institut, Memoires de V , 326 
Isaiah, 281 

JACOB, on Ant. 904 ff. , 166 
Jebb, Professor, 3, ii, 133, 166 f. 
Jerusalem, letter to the bishop of, 


Jowett, Dr., 127 
Judaeus, Philo, Legatio ad Caium, 


Justin Martyr, judgment on Apol- 
lonius attributed to, 266 

KABBADIAS, M., 2, 237 

Kalogeropoulos, P. D. , 88 f. 

Kampouroglous, 89 

Keary, C. F., 6, 9, 16, 52, 371 

Kenyon, Mr. F. G., 126, 132, /J7 

Kern, Dr. , 194 f. 

Kiel, Schriften der Universitat zu, 

Kitchener, Major, map of Cyprus, 


Kock, Dr. Theodor, 215 
Krause, 44 

LAMI, edition of Meursius by, 349 f. 

Landor, /jo 

Lang, R. Hamilton, 280, 288 

Largus, Scribonius, 237 

La Roche, edition of Odyssey, 61 . 

Lebegue, Recherches sur Ddlos, 385 

Lehrs, Populare Aufsatze, 10, 20 f. 

Lenormant, M. F. , 66, 70, fSj, 


Leunclavius, 37 

Lloyd, Bishop, letter to Bentley, 262 
Lobeck s Aglaophamus, 127 
Lucan, 24 f. 
Lucian, 107, 239, 261-263, 270, 


Lucretius, 300, 304 
Lumbroso, G., 13 
Lusignan, Estienne de, 275, 285 f. , 

334 ff., 342 
Lyall, Sir Alfred, 12 
Lycophron s Alexandra, 447-452, 


Lyon, Professor D. G., 301 



Macmillaris Magazine, 27, 101 

Macrobius, 30, 93, 96 

Malgaigne, 223 

Mannert, 353 

Mannhardt, William, 27, 53, 97, 
182, 208, 379 

Marcellinus, Ammianus, 308 

Marcian Library, unpublished MSS. 
of Meursius, 274 ; unpublished 
MS. of a speech by Zuanne Po- 
docatharo, 340 ; Portulano No. 
9, 329 f. ; Bessarion s MSS. of 
Strabo, 325 

Marianus, Scotus, 290 

Marquardt, 38, 44, 393 

Martial, 276 

Mas Latrie, Comte de, 278, 326 

Maximus Tyrius, 293 

Medecine, Gazette de, 223 

Medicine, Academy of (N.Y.), 241 ; 
Gaillard s Journal of, 241 

Menander, 151 

Merriam, Dr. A. C., 13-15, 32, 107 
f., in, 115-117, 133, 237, 241 

Meursius, John, 346-354 ; Cerami- 
cus, 349 ; (MSS.) Cyprus, 274 f., 
290, 350-352 ; (Graev s edition) 
Cyprus, 347 ; " De denario 
Pythagorico, " 350 ; on Lycoph- 
ron, 346 , Pisistratus, 347 ; 
" Themis Attica," 350 ; on Theo 
critus, 348 

Middleton, Professor J. H., 33 

Milton, 79, 360 ; Comus, 146, 148, 


Minucius Felix, 20 
Moellendorf, Wilamovitz, 238 
Mommsen, 13, 83 
More, Henry, the Platonist, 19, 264 
Miiller, E., 258 
Miiller, K. O. , map of Salamis by, 


Munro, J. Arthur R., 280 
Musgrave, 346 

Nation, The, of New York, 2, 23, 


Nazianzum, Gregory of, 707 
Newton, Sir Charles, i, 69 f. , 795 

Nipperdey, on Tacitus, 43 
Nonnus, 92, 109, 139 ; Dionysiaca, 

i. 5, 142 \ x. init. 99 ; xiii. 458 

ff-. 345 I xiv- I2 o ff-i 99; xix. 

261 ff. , 95; xxvii. 283-307, 707; 

xlv. 99, 142 ; xlvi. passim 707- 


Northumberland, A view of, etc., 
49 f. 

Nouvelle Revue, 374 

OBERHUMMER, Dr., 275 f., 278 

Olympiodorus, 87 

Omar, the Persian, 97 

Origen, 258, 264, 278 

Orphic .Hymns on Dionysus, 22, 


Orphic fragments, 7<?7 
Ortelius, Abraham, maps of Cyprus, 

324, 326, 343, 135 
Osann, on the Lesser Mysteries, 

104, 124 
Ovid, 64 f. , 375, Fasti, iii. 717, 142 ; 

v. 145, 38. Her. ii. 65 

PAMPHOS, 122, 175 

Pandora, Athenian periodical, 89 

Pape, Diet, of Proper Names, 132, 

Pater, Mr., 26 f., 70, 101, 136, 169, 

235 i., 242 
Pathe, C. von Wulfften, on Philos- 

tratus, 259 
Patzig, H., 27 
Pauly s Real - Encyclopaedic dcr 

Alterthumswissenschaft, 44, 118, 

Pausanias, 32, 218, 247, 285 ; I. ii. 

5, 104 ; ii. 7, 135 ; iv. 5, 92 ; xiv. 

1-4, 776 ; ibid. 3 f., 124 \ xxii. i, 

5, j>99 ; xxxi. 4, 31, 82 ; xxxii. 
i, J99 ; xxxviii. 3, 64, 122, 175; 
ibid. 7, 64. II. ii. 5, 6, 7<?9 ; 
ibid. 14, 65 ; xxiv. 6, 99 ; xxxv. 
4, 776. III. xix. 6, 779 ; xxiii. 
i, j>77. IV. iii. 10, 65. V. x. 
8, 9. VIII. v. 2, 286 ; xxiv. i, 

6, 286 ; xxv. 4, 176 ; xlviii. 3, 
J77 ; liii. 3, 286. IX. xii. j, 



140 ; xx. i, 1 1 9 ; xl. 3, 399 
ibid. 3, 4, 379. X. iv. 3, 132 
xxix. 4, ^oo ; xxxii. 6, 25- 
Peabody Museum, Report of Trus 

tees of, 171 

Penrose, Mr. F. C. , 232, 314 
Perrot and Chipiez, 310 
Perry, Mr. T. S., if 2 
Petelia, Orphic inscriptions found at 


Pfander on Euripides, 157 
Pherecydes, 64 
Philios, Dr., i, 196 f. 
Philo, Judaeus, 14 
Philological Association, Transac 

tions of the American, JTJ, 347 
Philologus, the, j6, 345 
Philostratus, 258-261* 263 \ Epist 

39. ^07 
Phurnutus (Cornutus), quoted b; 

Meursius, 274 
Piccolomini, Aeneas Sylvius de 


Pindar, 71, 130. Olympian Odes, i 
102 ; ii, 71 \ 12, 102. Pythian 
Odes, 3, <?ff., 369; 9, 369 
Pius II. (de 1 Piccolomini), 326 f. 
Plato, 19. Apol. 21 B, 370. Epi- 
nomis, 487 E, 297. Laws, viii. 
init. , 177. Rep. ii. 364 B, 181 ; 
382 -383 B, 370 
Plautus, Mercator, init., 272 
Pliny, 41 f., 253. Nat. Hist. II. 
vi. 12, vii. 18, 19, 42 VII. viii. 
45. 42 ; 59. 107 ; 195, 294 
Plutarch, Alexander, 97 ; Antony, 
24, 79 ; Aristides, 27, 210 ; 
Demetrius, 26, 209 ; Flamininus, 
16, 40 ; Nicias, 3, J79 ; Pericles, 
13, 7-97; Solon, 12, .T2?; 29, z/d, 
7.2<5 ; Theseus, 23, .577 
Plutarch, Pseudo-, De Anima, no ; 
tract on Isis and Osiris, 22 ; De 
Fluviis, 25 ; De primo frigido, 
113 ; on Hesiod, 132 ; Quaest. 
Rom. , 310 ; Sympos. , 103, 106, 

Podocatharo, the family, 330-343 ; 
Alessandro P., 339 ; Hettore P., 

Ritratte del Regno di Cipro, 330- 
33S> 340-342 ; Zuanne P. , his 
appeal to Alvise Mocenigo 
(Marcian MSS. ), 338-340 

Polemon, 218 

Porphyry, 72 

Potli, 88 

Praktika, i 

Preller s Greek Mythology, 48, 98, 
177 ; Plew s revision, 318 \ Ro 
bert s revision, 272, 298 ; Ritter 
and, Hist. Phil., 177 

Procacci, Tommaso, L hole piu 
famose del mondo, 330-333, 337 
f. ; de Funerali Antichi, 331 \ 
Cagione delle Guerre Antiche, 331 

Propertius, 14 

Ptolemy, Bessarion s MS. of, 324 

Pullan, R. P., z 


RAGOZIN, Mme. Zenai de, 302 
Ralli and Potli, Church History, 88 
Rapp, Beziehungen des Dionysos- 

kultes zu Thracien, 83 
Reber, Professor, History of Art, 

Ribbeck, Otto , A nfaenge des Dionysos- 

kults in Attica, 104, 125, 129, 


fitter and Preller, 777 
Robert, Carl, interpretation of vase- 
pictures by, 94 
^onchaud, M. , 371 
Roscher, Dr. W. H. , 402 ; Aus- 
fiihrliches Lexicon der Griechis- 

chen und Roemischen Mythologie, 

120, 139, 270, 292 
Ross, Dr. L. , 290, 352, 389 
oyal Institute, lecture before, 39 
luhnken, 54 


Itinerarii, 290 
andys, Dr., 142, 146, 148 
appho, 274, 304 
assenay, le Marquis de, 324 
cherer, Chr., 176 f., 194 



Schliemann, Dr. H., 106, 286 

Schone on Euripides, 757 

Schramm s Life of Meursius, 348 

Schwalbe, 166 

Seeley, Professor, on Roman Im 
perialism, 39 

Semus of Delos, 382 

Seneca, 290 

Servius, confusions about Parnassus, 
24, 8s, 107 

Sibylline Oracles, 290 

Sidonius Apollinaris, 265 

Six, Dr. J. P. , 344 

Smith, Mr. Cecil, 181 

Smith, Mr. R. Elsey, 252, 305-308 

Sophocles, 133. Antigone, 904-915, 
discussion of interpolation of, 
166 f. ; 1115-1152, 133 f. ; 1119, 
the reading Icaria justified, 133 ; 
1126, 1144 f., 25; 1200, 777. 
Philoctetes, 177, 237. Triptole- 
mus, 77 

Stephanus, Byzantinus, 105, 181, 
274, 344 

Strabo, 183 f. , 325, 3 2 7> 34 f > 395- 
397 \ 37. 358 > 271, 356 \ 371, 
103 ; 375. 237 ; 383, 218 ; 394, 
345 \ 395. l8 9 > 4 12 . **8\ 4 J 7 f -. 
25 ", 4 6 3-474. 94 I 4 6 7. i&4\ 
468, 132, 159 ; 474, 395 ; 479. 
123 f. ; 484, 306 ; 480, 360 ; 

485. 359> Jte. 395 f - J 564. 
^5 ; 633, 122 ; 683, the tradi 
tional punctuation changed accord 
ing to Bessarion s MSS., 325 

Suetonius, 14, 37 f. 

Sybaris, Orphic fragments found at, 

Syncellus, 7/9 

TACITUS, Ann. i. 72, iv. 42, xii. 
4, xiii. ii, 43 ; iv. 20, 42; iv. 
55, 44. Hist. iv. 81, 42 

Themistius, ir6 

Theocritus, 318, 394 

Theognis, 356, 381, 384 

Theopompus, 126 

Thiersch, 130 

Thraemer, 779 

Thucydides, 7J7, 361-363 

Tomaschek, 86 

Tournefort s description of Cyprus, 


Tylor, Dr., 769 f., 289-207 
Tyrius, Maximus, 2OJ 
Tyrrell, Professor, 757, 162, 166 f. 

UNGER, Dr. Robert, 345 
Uspergensis, Abbas, 290 

VERCOUTRE, Dr., 229 

Verrall, Mrs., 27, 124 

Vienna, Reports of Academy, 86 

Virgil, Aeneid, iii. 15, 85 \ 73, 359 \ 

74,jj<?; 85-101, 370. Georgics, 

i. 21-31, 14 
Vitruvius, 797 
Voigt, F. A., 97, 120, 159, 

176 f. 

WARBURTON, The Divine Legation 

of Moses, 1 80 
Wecklein, rejects Bacch. 286-297, 

Wegener, Dr., on the Hymn to 

Demeter, 56 
Wilmans, Dr. , on Dio Cassius, 38 

XENOPHON, his record of military 
medicine, 225. Anab. I. ii. 13, 
92. Mem. III. iii. 12, 376 ; 
IV. ii. 8 ff. , 225 

ZENODOTUS, on Odyssey text, 61 
Ziegler, on Cyprus, 308, 327 
Zonaras, 37 




ABONOTICHUS, serpent impostures of 

Alexander of, 254 
Abraham, statue of, in Lararium of 

Severus, 265 
Academy, Cicero proposes a gate 

for the, 1 88 
Acamantis, Philonides named 

Cyprus, 274 
Acamas, a mountain of Cyprus and 

of Salamis, 187, 344, JS 2 f- 
Acanthus-leaf, on the capitals of the 

Epidaurian Tholos, 252 
Accad, Aphrodite came from un 
known, 303 
Accounts, inscriptions concerning, 

found at Eleusis and Delos, 195, 

207, 387 
Achilles, the Apolline ideal and, 9 ; 

fire-baptism of, 64 ; Chiron s pupil, 

Acropolis (Athenian), chamber on, 

devoted to remains of Aesculapian 

temple, 249 
Acropolis (Eleusinian), 187, 199, 

203 f. 
Acta publica, consulted by Dio 

Cassius, 38 
Actor, inspiration of, by Dionysus, 


Adonis, 291 f. 
Aee tes, 231 
Aegae, Apollonius and Maximus at 

the temple of Aesculapius at, 255, 

Aegean, Archilochus the poet of 

the, 365 ; festivals of the, 389 ; 

Venetians and Greeks in the, 328, 

389 ; Delian centre of the, 387 ; 

Archipelago, a name of the, 397 
Aegina, 187, 223 
Aegipan, 98-100 

Aegyptos, river, Nysa close to, 163 f. 
Aelian, ridiculous credulity of, 230 

Aeneas, virtues of, 39 ; Chiron s 
pupil, 232 

Aeolus, housed on Tenos, 380 

Aeschylus, the record of the cou- 
vade and, 169-171 \ Dionysus the 
tutelary god of, 81 

Aesculapius, 15, 220, 222, 231 f., 
235 f -> 239 f., 242, 245, 255; 
medicine and, 15, 220, 226, 234, 
f. , 237 f. ; myth of, 15, 220 f., 
230 f., 232 f., 234 f., 244-246, 
254, 256 ; other gods and, 15, 
240, 242 f. ; Amphiaraus and, 232 ; 
Aphrodite and, 270 f. ; Apollo 
and, 15, 219 f. , 231, 239-242 ; 
Apollonius of Tyana and, 220, 
2 55< 2 57 attendant divinities 
and, 240 ] Demeter and, 194, 
219 f., 270 f. ; Dionysus and, 
194, 220 f. , 247 ; Persephone 
and, 219 f. ; Serapis and, 254 ; 
Zeus and, is, 21, 219 f. , 239 ; 
worship of, 229 f. , 236, 238 i. , 243, 
247, 249, 254,361 ; at Aegae, 255- 
258 ; at Athens, 2, 5, 242, 248 f. ; 
at Cos, 194 f., 221, 225 ; at Epi- 
daurus, 2, 3, 219 f. , 220, 243-245, 
248-254 among the Lapithae 
and Phlegyae, 194 f. , 221, 233 f. ; 
at and near Rome, 221, 234$, , 243, 
254 ; in Thessaly, 194 f. , 221, 


Agamemnon, 285, 293 
Aganippe, 24 
Agapenor, 285 f. 
Agave, 137, 147, 150, 160-162 
Agelastos petra, the, at Eleusis, 61 , 


Aglaurus, mother of Ceryx, 122 
ayvr], used of Persephone, 48 
Agriculture, in Cyprus, 281 ; know 
ledge of, came from Demeter 
through Triptolemus, 71 ; im- 



plements of, Cinyras invented, 

Agrionia, 103 

Aidoneus, 49 f. , 55 57, Z 7 8 > 94 
Alyafov Trt\ayos, corrupted into 

Archipelago, J97 f. 
Aiorai, 706 

Aithousa, mother of Eleuther, 
daughter of Alcyone and Poseidon, 
etc., 779 
Ajax, 46, 78 
Alaric, 188, 265 
Alban hills, 326 

Albanians, May festivals of, 89 
wasting of Eleusis by the, 188 f. , 

Alcaeus, 702 
Alcamenes, statue of Aphrodite by, 

270, 273 
Alcibiades, 215 
Alcmaeon, dissection of animals by 


Alcmaeonidae, arraignment of, 124 
Aletis, song in memory of Erigone 

106, 115 

Alexander, Bacchanals of the hous 

of, 138 ; Dionysus and, 79 ; th 

empire of, 44 f. ; the Emathia 

conqueror, 79 

Alexander, of Abonotichus, 254 


Alexandria, Caesareum at, 13 f. 

Alexandrine doctors, Daremberg 

list of, 279 ; sailors, worship o 

Caesar eTri/Sar^ptos by, 14 

Ali Pasha, of Janina, 268 

Alliance, the Eleusinian, of divinitie 

77, 776, 277, 276 

Alpheius, 163 

Amadis de Gaule, anatomy of, com 

pared to Homer s, 228 
Amathus, a Phoenician foundatio 

281, 291 f. 
Amathusia, Xenagoras called Cypru 


Amazons, 38, 249 
American excavation at Icaria, 10 

Amphiaraus, a Boeotian Aesculap 

and a pupil of Chiron, shrine at 
Oropus of, 232 

mphictyon, in Dionysus -legend, 

mphipolis, Phyllis on the shore 
near, 65 

mphipolitans, deified Brasidas, 
40 f. 

nacreon, sang under inspiration of 
wine, 102 

natomy, Homer s clear notions of, 
227-230 ; origin of, 234, 237 ; 
heroic interest in, 227 ; influence 
of Homer in, 229 
naxagoras, loftier teachings of, in 
the Bacchanals, 138 
ndania, competition with Celeae 
and Eleusis of, 65 
Androclus, son of Codrus, 122 
Andros, on the way to Delos, 376 ; 

among the Bahamas, J97 
Anemones, on the Tholos of Poly- 

cletus, 251 
\nimism, 27 

Anthesteria, at Athens, 130 f. 
Anthesterion, month of the Lesser 

Mysteries, 208 
\nthropology, scientific method in, 

169 f. 

-\nthroporraistes, dvdpuTroppa.l<TTT]S, 
or man wrecker, Dionysus sur 
name, 100 
Antigone, the, interpolation in, 

Antonines, the age of the, an age of 

valetudinarians, 235 
Antony, Mark, as Caesar s flamen, 
38 ; masquerade of, as Dionysus, 

Anubis and Apollo at Delos, 402 
Apamea, 14 

Aphrodite, 2, 5 ; nature of, 273 , 
powers of, 277 ; came from every 
where, 272 ; a nature goddess, 
271, 273; a jealous power, 273; a 
restraining power, 300 ; bore a 
sword, 46, 270, 273 ; a consoling 
power, 277, 298, 303 ; a goddess 
of the dead, 292, 309 f. ; sur- 



named Sosandra, 271, 298, 303 
ancient influence of, 277, 303 f. 
modern views about the origin of 
315 ; had a strain neither Greek 
nor Phoenician, 282, 324 ; cam< 
from Accad, 303 ; worship of, in 
the East, 273 f., 293, 297 f. 
Greek influences never quite pre 
vailed with, 271-273, 297, 317 
Aphrodite, of the Greeks, 270-273 
284, 297 f. , 303 f. , 315 f. , 319 
of the Hittites, 315, 320 f. ; o 
the Phoenicians, 273 f. , 282, 284 
286, 297 f. , 303, 31 5, 318, 320, 


of the poets. Euripides on, 

298-300 ; Homer on, 298 f. , 
304, 317 f. ; Pindar on, 299 f. 

Aphrodite s associates. Adonis and, 
291 ; Aesculapius and, 270 f. 
Apollo and, 271, 379, 382, 399- 
403; Ariadne and, 400 f. ; Cybele 
and, 21, 303 ; Demeter and, 
21, 69, 303 ; Dionysus and, 148, 
273, 3io 

sanctuaries (Greek). At 

Athens, 270 f. ; at Cythera, 
285 f. , 323 ; at Delos, ^79, 382, 
399, 403 ; towards Eleusis, 218, 
271, 296 f. , 304, 314 ; at Psophis 
and Tegea, 285 f. , 323 

sanctuaries (Cypriote). 

53. 2 74> 2 $S< 287, 296, 317, 
321 f. ; at Old Paphos, 272, 279, 

Zerynthian sanctuary, 345 f. 

Apolline perfection, Apollonius of 

Tyana and, 220 

Apollo, 5, 8, 9, 14 f., 17 f. , 24, 28- 
30, 33 f., 169-171, 219, 242, 264, 
366-369, 371 f. 

Apollo s associates. Aesculapius, 
220, 240-242 ; Aphrodite, 271, 
300 ; Ares, 372 ; Artemis, 355, 
367 ; Athena, 218 ; Augustus, 
14 ; Bacchus, 25 ; Coronis, 245 ; 
Daphne, 368 ; Demeter, 75-9, 
218 ; Diana, 150 ; Dionysus, 21, 
30 f. , 34, 36, Sf, 102, 104, 159, 

162, 368 ; Eleuther, 119 f. ; Har- 
pocrates, 401 f. ; Hecate, 159 ; 
Heracles, 371 f. ; Hermes, 372 ; 
Horus, 401 f. ; Marpessa, 368 ; 
the Muses, 102, 104, 159 ; Nero, 
114 ; Poseidon, 372 ; Proserpina, 
r 59 Pythagoras, 219 ; Zagreus, 
128 ; Zeus, 26, 369 

Apollo s sanctuaries. At Bassae, 
372 ; at Curium, 345 f. ; on Mt. 
Cynortion, 246 ; at Daphne, 
218 ; at Delos, 2, 5, 35, 201, 
360-363, 370, 372, 375, 37^-380, 
382, 384-389, 394, 401 f. ; at 
Delphi, 17, 26, 29, 33-36, 370, 
372 ; at Icaria, 102, 104 ; at 
Marathon, 104 ; on Parnassus, 

story, no, 128, 219, 231, 

239, 294, 356-350, 369, 372, 
379. 382, 391, 393, 399 

Apollonia, celebrated during Delian 
independence, 374, 386-389 

Apollonius means one under Apollo s 
guidance, 219 ; seven Alexandrine 
doctors named, 219 

Apollonius of Tyana, reasons for 
the discredit of, 258 f. , 261 f. ; 
important facts concerning, 220, 
255, 257, 261, 263-266 ; relation 
to Christians and Christianity of, 
258, 260 f., 263 f. 

Appius, Claudius Pulcher, gate of, 
at Eleusis, 188, 190 

Arabian strain of Dionysus, 168 

Araby the blest worships Dionysos, 

Arcadia, temples of Aphrodite in 
285 f. 

Arcadian forms in Cypriote, 280 ; 
legends of Demeter Erinys and 
her daughter Persephone A^o"- 
Troiva, 48 

Arcadians, the, when and whence 
they entered Cyprus, 280 

Archaeological Society, Greek, i f. 

Archaeology, 7 

Archedemus, his Athenian grinders, 



Archelaus, wild religion at the cour 

of, 137 

Archilochus, the poet of the Aegean 
365 ; and Apollo, j66 ; and 
Paros, 365 

Archipelago, a corruption of Aiyaiov 
irtXayos, 397 f. 

Archipelago, Athens in close com 
munion with the islands of, 81 
the carnival of, and the Delia and 
Apollonia, 388 f. ; tales of Diony 
sus in, ii f ; Thracians in earliest 
days controlled the, 80 ; seat of 
Thracian power in, was Naxos, 

Archon, marriage of Dionysus with 
the wife of king, 130 f. 

Arcturus-Icarius, no 

Ares, Apollo boxed with, 372 

Aresthanos found Aesculapius on 
Mt. Titthion, 244 f. 

Argive account of Eubouleus-Diony- 
sus, 176 

Argolis, Polycletus of, his two Epi- 
daurian masterpieces, 246 

Ariadne, 130, 379, 401 ; Aphrodite 
and, 400 f. ; Daedalus and, 399 ; 
Demeter and, 62; Dionysus and, 
130 ; Persephone and, 62 \ Thes 
eus and, at Delos, 382 

Arician Grove, picturesque but com 
paratively unimportant rites of, 

2 7 

Aristaeus, the giver of honey, reared 
Dionysus, 143 

Aristophanes, 68, 212-216 ; Apollo 
and, 28 ; Dionysus and, 81 ; 
Eleusinia and, 212-216 

Aristotle on Dithyrambs and 
Tragedy, 116 ; corroborates the 
Parian Marble, 132 

Art, Delian and Metapontine, 383 

Artemis, 245, jjj f. , 367, 399 ; at 
Delos, 336, 379, 385 ; at Eleusis, 
189 f. ; at Epidaurus, 230 

Arts, Pygmalion and Cinyras origin 
ated the useful, 294 

Ascalon, Evenus of, 108 

Asclepieion at Athens, 2 

Ascoliasmos, at Dionysiac festivals, 
origin of, 108 

Ashdod, Dagon at, and Eastern 
Aphrodite, 297 f. 

Ashtaroth and Cypris - Aphrodite 
differentiated, 320 f. 

Asia, Central, 12 

Asia Minor, i, 2 ; attempt to derive 
Aphrodite from, 271 f., 320, 
322 ; Athenians in, 122, 132 ; 
contributions from, to the myth 
of Cinyras, 293, 295 ; Cnidian 
sanctuary in, 70 ; north Cyprus, 
an extract from, 277 ; Maenads 
followed Dionysus from, 141 ; 
Lenaeon, a month name of, 132 ; 
land of Phrygian flute and Lydian 
airs, 294 ; Sporades lie near, 
392 ; Taurus range and north 
range of Cyprus, 273 ; Thrace of, 

, ten in Asia, 44 
, apxiepevs rrjs, 43 

Aspelia, Xenagoras called Cyprus, 


Assumption, the, and the bringing of 
Semele to Olympus, 777 

Assurbanipal, Sardanapalus, poem 
on Ishtar found in library of, 300 

Assyria, Aphrodite ultimately from, 
272 ; Cinyras, king of, 291 

Assyrian and Greek strains in Aphro 
dite, 298 ; idea of Ishtar, 273, 
303 ; stranger, Phoenician wine 
trade and Dionysus the, 165 , 
rosettes an inheritance from, 2jf 

Astarte - Aschera, and Aphrodite, 

Asteria and Ortygia, barren legend 
of, 358 

Astronomy, of Icarian story, no f. ; 
in a Delian legend, 358 

Astynomus, called Cyprus Crypton 
and Colinia, 274 

Atargatis, worship of, added to that 
of the Syrian goddess at Delos, 


Athena, appeared to Alaric and 
saved Athens, 263 



Athena, frequent mention of, at 
Citium, 322 ; Cynthia, Delian 
temple of, 402 ; and Demeter, 
shared Apollo s temple at Daphne, 

Athene Sotera, Pisistratus and, 126 ; 
and the heart of Zagreus, 181 

Athenian shrine of Rome and 
Augustus on the Acropolis, 40 ; 
temple of Aesculapius next the 
Acropolis (inscription), 241 ; 
and Argive account of Eubouleus- 
Dionysus, 176 ; Confederacy, 12 ; 
religion, became the same with 
Attic, 122 f . 

Athenian worship, at Delos (a) archi 
tecture, 386, (b] festivals, 374-381, 
(c) legends, 382, 399 i. ; at Eleusis, 

122, 124, 207-218 

Athenian worship of Dionysus, 123, 
134 ; derivation of, 81, 130, 
137, 162 \ festivals of, 128-132, 


Athenian theatre of Dionysus, 114, 

Athenians in Asia Minor, 122, 132 ; 
Venetians and, 131, 328 

Athens typically free, n ; the Archi 
pelago and, 81 ; Cecrops at, 64 ; 
commercial jealousy of, 363 ; 
Democedes at, 224 \ Eleusinion 
at, 124, 207 ; Eleusis and, 122, 
208 ; Eleutherae and, 118 f. ; 
Epimenides at, 124 Icarian 
influences at, 114, 117, 129, 132 ; 
religious innovations at, 129 f. ; 
worship of Aphrodite at, 270 ; 
worship of Apollo (Delian) at, 
362 f. , 376 f. , 386 f. ; worship of 
Apollo (Delphian) at, 34; worship 
of Aesculapius at, 219, 222, 241, 
248 f. , 256 ; worship of Demeter 
and the Eleusinian divinities at, 
77, 118, 122, 124, 207-211, 215- 
217 , worship of Dionysus at, 36, 

77, 80 f., 89 f., II7-IIO,, 121 f. , 

123, 129-131, fjj-sjj 

Athens and Venice, religions con 
trasted, 131 

Atlas, father of Aithousa s mother 
Alcyone, 119 

Atthis, Adonis closely connected 
with, 291, 322 

Attic Demeter legend, 60 ; Diony 
sus legend and worship, 34, 104 
f. , 113, 143 ; confederation, 60 ; 
religion, 122 f. , 129 f. , 218 ; sense 
of measure, 34, 104 f. , 113 ; 
tragedy, 117 

Attica, the Bacchanals called the 
Passion Play of, 137 ; song of Bac 
chanals and winter festivals of, 
156 , country demes of, and 
Dionysus, 34 \ Demeter and 
Dionysus came to, 105 ; Euripides 
wrote for Greece as well as for, 
143 ; exclusiveness of local reli 
gions in, 122 f. ; Icaria the Pieria 
of, in ; belief in Pisistratus of 
countrymen of, 126 ; political 
and religious fusion of, 122 ; early 
influence of Thracians on, in \ 
beautiful Triptolemus myth of, 

Atticus, lukewarm about building in 

Academy, 188, 190 

Aufidus, bull-shaped, 95 

Augustales, in Italy, Sicily, Gaul, 
Spain, etc., 43 

Augustalia, local celebrations analo 
gous to, 43 f. 

Augustan poets, imperial religion 
and the, 38 

Augusti, oaths In acta divi, 43 

Augustin, St., commends self-con 
trol of Apollonius, 264 

Augustus, deification of genius of, 
38 ; worshipped as AXe^/ca/cos, 
Zeus, Apollo, Poseidon, 14 ; 
Egyptian style of, 14 ; Julius 
Caesar and, 37 ; masquerading 
scheme of, 37 f . ; Rome and wor 
ship of, 40 ; wished to govern not 
to reign, 37 ; worship of, Rome 
and, 45; worshipped by "circum 
locution," 40 ; and temples for 
imperial worship, 38 , temple at 
Jerusalem and, 8 



Aurelian, vision by, of Apollonius, 

26 S 

Autonoe, on Cithaeron, 75-0 
Autopsy of the Greater Mysteries, 

Axius, Dionysus crosses the, 757 

BABYLON, Aphrodite-Mylitta at, 303 
Bacchanal, Apollo a prophet, 30 
Bacchanalian revels, Euripides 
understanding of, fjo f. ; victory, 
184 1 

Bacchanals of everyday life, 7/2, 
138 ; full of Dionysus, 136 ; com 
parison of, with Pans, 99 f. ; 
in the Thiasos, 100 ; Thebes 
the mother of, 133 ; Thracian 
originals of, 97 

Bacchanals, The, of Euripides, pre 
figures future and sums up the 
past, 138 ; music of, 144 ; called 
the Passion Play of Attica, 7J7 ; 
many aspects of, 136 f. , 7jj ; 
relation of, to Dionysus, (a) its 
scene is full of Dionysus, 7J9 f., 
(b} it presents in full the Bacchic 
cult, 757, (c) a gospel of Dionysus, 
136, (d) fullest presentation of 
Dionysus, 727, (e) contains proto- 
Thracian Dionysus and teachings 
of philosophy, 138 ; all characters 
in, are prophets of Dionysus, 156 
f. ; stand for Dionysus, 7J9 ; 
Dionysus not the sole representa 
tive of the god in, 7j>9, i^S 
analysis of the action of, 140- 
143, 145-160, 162 ; details of, 

(a) written in Macedonia, 137, 

(b) lines of, preserved in Christus 
Pattens, 139 ; (c) Milton s emen 
dation of, 146, (d) interpolation 
in, 766 f. ; (e) Cadmus in, 140, 
145-147 f. , (/) Tiresias in, 145 

Baccheios, Dionysus, at Corinth, 759 
Bacchic power, wine represented the 
sterner as well as the more charm 
ing side of, 97 

cult, presented in full by the 
Bacchanals, 757 

Bacchic worship, stage of, investi 
gated by Americans, 104 , re 
verence for Cybele in, 7^7; the 
wanton ferule in, 142 ; ivy and 
oak for, 142 

dance, its graceful undulations 

and fitful variations, 707, 146 

images at Corinth of Pentheus 

tree, 150 

instruments, mention of, 143 

madness, the method of, 145 

Bacchus, Homeric notion of, 77 ; 
dance of, 142 ; lover of laurel, 
30 ; torches of, 247 ; religious 
consolation of, 135 

Bactrian forts, Dionysus worshipped 
at, 140 

Baetylus, on Mt. Cynthus, 386 

Daffo olim Paphos, 324 

Balkan Peninsula, 85, 89 

Bank, the Delian shrine a, 387 

Baptism, analogy of, to Lesser Mys 
teries, 209 

/3dp/3apoj, Meursius makes a river of 
adjective, 353 f. 

Barnabas, St. , in Cyprus, 290 

fo, the dpxuv, with four ^TTI- 
administered cult of 
Athens and Eleusis, 208 

Basilissa, marriage of Dionysus with, 
130 f. 

Basque country, persistence of cou- 
vade in the, 770 

Bas-relief of Dionysus and Icarius, 

Bassae, temple of Apollo at, 204, 
206, 372 

Bassarids of Dionysus, 79, 97. See 

Bavarian killing of Pfingstl, 159 

Beans, Cyamites the giver of, and 
the Mystae, 277 ; excluded from 
Demeter s sanctuary at Eleusis, 
277 f. ; horror of, felt by Pytha 
goreans, 218 

Bentley, abandoned edition of Apol 
lonius, 262 

Bermius, rose gardens on flanks of, 
9 2 



Birth, forbidden on Delos, 360 \ 
principle of second, justifies 
Orestes, 169 f. 

Birth-legend of Aesculapius, 75-, 
233, 245 ; of Aphrodite, 271, 
284, 2 9 6,3T 7 f.,Js6-3S9> 399 > 
of Dionysus, 128, 149, 165, 168- 


Birthday -festival of Apollo and 
Dionysus flower feast, 372 

Bishop, functions of, analogous to 
those of Ao-tdpx^s, 44 

Bi0wid/>x?7S, 44 

Blizzard, the most ancient record of 
a, 113 

Bocalia, an alternative name for 
Bocarus, 345 f. 

Bocarus, a Salaminian river -name 
wrongly connected with Cyprus, 
324 f. , 344 347> 352-354 

Body, mind cured through, 235 

Boedromion, month of the Greater 
Mysteries, 208 

Boeotia, Amphiaraus the Aescula 
pius of, 232 ; Eleutherae on Attic 
borders of, 118 ; Lenaeon in, 112, 
132 ; early Thracians in various 
parts of, 80 

Boeotian festival of Agrionia, con 
nection of Dionysus and Muses 
in, 103 

Boeotians organised a Delian festi 
val, 363 

Bondholders, the Turkish, and 
modern Cyprus, 278 

Bootes-Icarius as vindemiator, ITT ; 
Icarius and his wain become, 

Bordone, identifies Troodos and 
Olympus, 329 

Botticelli and spirit of mystery at 
Eleusis, 182 ; illustrations of 
Dante by, 331 

Brasidas, deified by Amphipolitans, 
40 f. 

Brenzone, account of sack of Nicosia 
by, 332 i. ; reproduces Procacci on 
Troodos-Olympus, 334 

Bricks, devised by Cinyras, 2()4 ; 

transport of, from Athens to 

Eleusis, 207 
Bridge, jibes at, in procession of 

Mystae, 214, 217 
Brightness, elements of Dionysus 

coupled with swift, 102 
British Museum, Demotic stelae in, 14 
Bromius, wine gift of, 109 ; mystic 

maids sealed for service of, 87 
Brotherhood of Dionysus and Apollo, 

Brumalia, Roman and Thracian 

festival of, 86-88, 112. See 

Bucolion, scene of marriage of 

Dionysus, 13 T 
Bull, represents water, 95 ; Dionysus 

shaped as a, 95 
Bulls, the Delian Hall of, 400 
Bumna, a modern name for the 

Bocarus, 347 
Bustrone, calls Troodos Lambadista 

or Chionodes, 341 
Butes, leader of the early Thracian 

migration to the Aegean, 80 
Byblus, Aphrodite worshipped at, 

as a cone, 293 ; Cinyras, a founder 

priest and king at, 293 
Byzantium, Cyprus under rule of, 

278 f. 

CABIRION, the Delian, and the The- 
ban, 402 

Cadmus, the Bacchanals of Euri 
pides and, 140, 145-147 ; the 
Dionysus-legend and, y<5z f., 164 

Caesar, Julius, 14, 37 

Caesarea-by-the sea, 14 

Caesareum at Alexandria, the, 13-15 

Calamis, statue of Aphrodite Sosan- 
dra by, 299 

Calendar, juggle with, at Athens for 
initiation of Demetrius, 209 

Callias at the Delia, 376 

Callichorus, the well where Demeter 
sorrowed, 207 

Canicula-Maera, no 

Capitoline Museum, bust of Virgil 
in, K)5 



Cappadocian, Apollonius the, sneered 

at by Dio Cassius, 261 
Caracalla, coins of, 44 ; son of 

Julia Domna, 264 ; partiality for 

Apollonius of Tyana, 261, 263 
Caramania, anciently invaded by 

Thracians, 280 ; mountains of, 

Caratheodori, two cousins, both 

fathers of, were doctors, 268 
Carinondas and Apollonius, magi 

cians, 262 
Carnival - time in the Archipelago 

and the Delia and Apollonia, 

Carthage, Aphrodite-Ashtaroth at, 


Castalia, streams of, 23, 35, 133 
Caste, ii 

Castor, a pupil of Chiron, 232 
Cavafy, Dr., at St. George s Hos 

pital, 269 
Cavaliere di San Marco, gift of 

Meursius MS. Cyprus gained his 

son the title of, jjo 
Cave at Icaria, 709 
Cave-like arches at Eleusis, 797 
Cave -temple of Apollo on Delos, 


Caves, frequency of, in Cyprus, 289 
Cecrops, Cychreus as, 345 ; Eleusis 

as, 64 \ Pandion, the fifth since, 

Celeae, Eleusinian Demeter-legend 

and, 64 f., 7 05 
Celeus and Eleusin, 61, 64 f. ; a 

hero at Celeae, 63 ; an interloper 

at Eleusis, 6j ; Demeter s visit to, 

6j, 68, 105 ; discrowned by Ovid, 

77 ; Icarius contrasted with, loj ; 

the sons of, 62 f. ; the daughters 

of, <5j, 122, 175 
Centaurs, 138, 231, 249 
Central Museum at Athens, Epidaur- 

ian victories in, 249 
Ceos, on the way from Athens to 

Delos, 376 
Cephissus, jibes at bridge over, 214, 


Cerastis, Xenagoras, called Cyprus, 


Ceres, the Roman, jo 
Cerynia, the only centre of life in 

North Cyprus, 277 
Ceryx, son of Hermes, successor to 

Eumolpus, 122 
Cestus of Aphrodite, borrowed by 

Hera, .299 
Chalcidice, Greeks of, deified Fla- 

mininus, 40 

Chastity and Cypris, 149-153 
Children, growth of, linked to growth 

in the field, jj ; surviving Europ 
ean customs about, jj 
Chinese, use of play-actors masks 

by, 172 
Chios, not of Cyclades or Sporades, 


Chiotes, for 

Chiron, the character of, 231 ; Aes 
culapius, reared by, 246 ; loves 
of Apollo and, 369 ; pupils of, 

Chiti (Citium), Podocatharo estate 
of, 337 f. ; Procacci s account of, 


Chittim, Cyprus named, 274 ; Tar- 
shish and, in Isaiah, 281 

Chivalry, of Apollo in love, 368 f. ; 
Homeric, scorned Dionysus, 78 

Cholargia, Xenocles of, at Eleusis, 

Choruses, tragic, at Sicyon, 7/j 

Christ, deification of emperors led to 
the imitation of, 265 ; statue of, 
in the Lararium of Severus, 263 

Christian art, spirit of ancient mys 
teries in, 182 

Christian birth-legends, compared 
with the Delian story, jj6 

building at Delos, 379 

opponents took trouble to 

understand Apollonius, 263 

ritual, 4 
Christian, mimic fight between Turk 

and, 90 
Christianity, j, 5, 6, fj f. , 79 ; 

Paganism and, 44 f. , 2jS, 260, 



266 ; in Thrace, 84, 88 ; the 
Dionysus-worship of the Baccha 
nals and, 138 

Christians, Apollonius respected by, 
261 ; ransomed from Turks, 339 

Christopoulos, a lyric poet, studied 
medicine at Buda, 268 

Chrysopator, epithet of Dionysus, 92 

Chrysopolitissa, the holy, and Aphro 
dite Paphia, 304 

Church, the hall at Eleusis a, 189 

Church universal, n, 15 

Churches, ruins of, in Cyprus, 283 

Cicero, his mocking allusion to 
Caesar s divine honours, 37 ; pro 
poses a building like the gate of 
Appius, 188-190 

Cilicia, mountains of, 276 

Cimon, Hall of, at Eleusis, 199, 204 

Cinnamon tree, the, and Nysa, 164 f. 

Cinyradae.the, at Paphos, 291 

Cinyras, legend of, 291-295 ; the 
Paphian south wing is perhaps the 
tomb of, 309, 314 

Circe had knowledge of miraculous 
drugs, 23T 

Cithaeron, Mount, 118 ; Dionysus- 
legend and, 141, 147, -fjo, zjj f. , 
158 \ false connection with 
Cythera of, 286 ; never connected 
with Aphrodite, 286 

Citium, the Roman form for Chit- 
tim, 281 ; Athena, not Aphrodite, 
mentioned at, 322 ; Phoenician 
remains at, 282, 32 1\ Podocathari 
estate at, 337 

Citizenship, political, invented by 
Greece, 12 

Clairvoyance of Apollonius in Dio 
and Philostratus, 261 

Clan and commonwealth, n 

Classicists, romanticists compared 
with, yjo 

Clemency of Augustus, worship of, 

Cleomenes, devastation of Eleusinian 

sanctuary by, 198, 216 
Clisthenes, effect of Sicyonian 
choruses on, 115 

Clodones, the, are Thracian originals 

of Bacchants, 97 

Clytemnestra, murder of, and the 
couvade, 169, 170 ; struggle of, for 

Iphigenia and the couvade, 171 
Cnidus, i, j, 59 f., 70, 194, 195 
Cnossus, Epimenides from district 

of, 124 
oan practice of medicine, work on, 

attributed to Hippocrates, 225 ; 

school and early medicine, 234 
Cock, debt of Socrates and Crito to 

Aesculapius, 239 
Codrus, father of Androclus, 122 
Coins, head of Apollonius on, 265 
Colettis, the Prime Minister, was a 

doctor, 268 

Colontas, Demeter and, 776 
Colos, Garin du, at Colossi, 288 
Colossi, name and history of, 287 f. 
Colossus of Naxians at Delos, 380 ; 

of Rhodes and the Cypriote 

Colossi, 287 f. 
Columbus of a new world, Thespis 

the, 116 

Comedies, at Athenian festivals, 134 
Comedy, Icaria the cradle of, in, 

113, 117 ; Susarion invited to 

Icaria with the first, 114 f. ; tra 
gedy and, began together, 117 
Commanderia and Madeira wines, 

Commanders, Knights, the, at 

Colossi, 287 

Commandery at Colossi, 288 
Commandment, Demeter s, 72 
Commercial spirit of Delia after 

second revival, 375 
Commonwealth and clan, u 
Concord, of Dionysus and Apollo, 

Cone, worship of Aphrodite as a, at 

Byblus and Paphos, 293, 386 
Confirmation, analogy of, to the 

Greater Mysteries, 209 
Conon and Evagoras used forests of 

Cyprus, 308 
Contradictions, in the pose and look 

of Demeter and Persephone, 73 ; 


inherent in Dionysus, 78 f., 113, 


Coray, a doctor at Montpellier, 268 
Corfu, May festival at, 89 
Corinth, Aphrodite at, 27 f ; Bacchic 

images of Pentheus wood at, 759 
Corinthian capital, the earliest 

known, 252 
Corn, contrasted with wine and the 

vine, 707 ; lady, the, of, jo ; mother 

of, or Kornmutter, 470 
Coroebus, a builder of the temple at 

Eleusis, 797 
Coronelli calls the Troodos Olympus, 


Coronis, daughter of Thessalian 
Phlegyas, 2jj, 244 f. , 367 

Corybantes, at birth of Zeus-Diony 
sus, 99, 142 f. 

Corycian, cave, 133 ; Dionysus on 
the heights, 757 

Cos, inscriptions at, 237 ; coming of 
Aesculapius to, 221 ; date of 
Aesculapian foundation of, 243 ; 
Ptolemy and, likened to Apollo 
and Delos, 394 

temple of Aesculapius at, the 
school of Hippocrates, 225 

Cothonea, given for Metanira, 6j 

Couclia, modern name of Old 
Paphos, 289 ; description of the 
village of, 296 ; Tschiflik at, 
290 ; further excavations at, de 
sirable, 314 

Courage, Homeric conception of, 78 

Couvade, Apollo in the Eumenides 
and, 769 ^ l ^ e anc ^ Clytem- 
nestra s death, 769 f. ; Dionysus 
second birth and, 168-170 ; the, 
and Dionysus love for Semele, 
769 ; Greek transformation of 
problem of, to beauty, 777 ; sur 
vival of, to-day in Spain and 
France, 770 ; struggle for Iphi- 
genia and the, 777 ; Zamacola on 
the, 770 

Couvocles, old French for Couclia, 
modern name of Old Paphos, 296 

Cowardice, the, of Dionysus, per 

sonified by Satyrs, 99 ; grotesque- 
ness as of, attached to Dionysus, 

Crane dance, legend of, at Athens 
and Delos, 400 

Creed, 6 f., 16, 18, fjj 
retan birth of Epimenides, effect 
of, 7^7 ; legends, Dionysus in, 
81, 7J9, 142 

rete, Aphrodite in, 277 ; Ariadne 
came from, 62 ; Curetes from, 97 ; 
Demeter-worship in, 61 f. ; lasion 
in, 62 ; Rhea and Cybele in, 143 ; 
Zeus of, a Dionysus, 142 

Crissaean plain, 23 

Crito, debt of a cock to Aescula 
pius, 2J9 

Croce, Mount St., wrongly identi 
fied with Olympus of Cyprus, J2j ; 
is probably the ancient Aous, 


Cronos, Aphrodite on the Olympian 
hill of, 277 ; Demeter s father, jo 

Cross of the penitent thief, discovery 
of, in Cyprus, 275- ; tempests 
stilled by a nail of the true, 275 

Croton, Aesculapius probably not 
worshipped at, 225 f. ; Alcmaeon 
the Pythagorean of, 223 ; Demo- 
cedes came from, 223 \ renown of 
its school of medicine, 223 ; the 
centre of Pythagoreanism, 223 

Cruelty, in Thracian Dionysus-wor 
ship, 700 

Cruz, Santa, Cal. , and Cape Curias, 

Crypton, Astynomus, called Cyprus, 

Cuneiform, version from the, JO7 

Curetes, are the Satyrs of Crete, 9^, 
97, 142 f. 

Curias, cape, and Santa Cruz, Cal. , 
288 ; Strabo s account of coast 
west of cape, 325 

Curium, Apollo i/XdrTjs at, 345 f. 

Customs, justice done by Euripides 
to, 757 ; variety of local, con 
nected with Eleusinian procession, 



Cyamites, the Mystae and, 2/7 

Cybele, Bacchic worship of, 141 ; 
Corybantes of, 97 ; Demeter and 
Rhea combined with, 401 f. ; one 
of eight Eleusinian gods, 178 ; 
Rhea acts in Crete as, 143 

Cychreus (Salaminian), Cecrops 
Eleusis and, 64, 345 f. 

Cyclades, influence on Athens of, 
8 1 ; Delos and the, 359, j62, 
364 f. , 387 ; history of the name, 
391-398 \ the Holy Islands called, 

Cyclopean sanctuary at Eleusis, 
200 f. 

Cyclops, Apollo s expiation for slay 
ing the, 37 i 

Cycnias, a mountain of Tenos, 380 

Cyllene, seen from Eleusis, 187 

Cylon avenged, 124 

Cy Ion s failure the people s victory, 


Cynortion, mountain sacred to 
Apollo, 246 

Cynthian Cabirion at Delos, 402 ; 
cave-temple of Apollo, 385 f. ; 
precinct of foreign gods became 
foreign soil to Apollo, 402 

Cynthus, j6j ; temple to Zeus 
Cynthius and Athena Cynthia on 
Mount, 402 ; altar of horns 
brought by Artemis from, 384 f. 

Cyprians knew that Aphrodite was 
from the East, 273 

Cypriote agriculture, Lang and 
Fourcade on, 281 ; characters, 
who used them ? 280, 321 ; pea 
santry, Lang s sympathy for, 
280 i. 

Cypris-Aphrodite and Ashtaroth dif 
ferentiated, 320 ; not of Greek 
birth, 318 

Cypris and chastity, ijo f. , 153 ; 
Homer mentions Aphrodite as, 
284, 316 ; Pontia, Phaedra s 
name for Aphrodite, 297 

Cyprogeneia, Aphrodite s epithet, 296 

Cyprus, 2 ; Aphrodite s isle is, 153, 
274, 287 ; in ancient times, 272, 

274, 278, 280, 284, 292, 294, 
32r f. ; description of, 275-277, 
288 f., 308, 328 ; general history 
of, -276-280 ; in medieval times, 
27S> 2 78> 326-328, sjs-jjs, 342 , 
in modern times, 272, 27^, 278 f., 

Cyrene and Apollo, 300, 369 
Cythera, Aphrodite on, 277, 286 f., 
296, 317 ; confused withCithaeron 
and Cythrea, 286 ; Phoenicians 
on, 286, 323 

Cythnos on the way to Delos, 376 
Cythrea of Cyprus, confusion of, 
with Cythera, 286 

DAEDALUS, Delian image of Aphro 
dite by, J79, J99 

Daeira, surname of Persephone at 
Eleusis, 48 

Dagon at Ashdod and Eastern Aph 
rodite, 297 f. 

Daimon, the mystical, of early Eleusis, 
and Dionysus - Zagreus-Iacchos, 


Daisy, the Greek, on capitals of the 
Tholos, 252 

Dalin (Idalium), earthquake at, 290 

Damaschino, Dr., professor in the 
Faculty of Paris, 269 

Damasias, Mr. Kenyon s note on, 

Damigeron and Apollonius, sor 
cerers, 262 

Damis the Ninivite, travellers tales 
of, 257-259 ; notes of, given to 
Philostratus by Julia, 260 

Dance, Apollo and the, 29 ; the 
Archipelago and the, 388 ; Apollo 
and Dionysus, two gods of the, 
104 ; Dionysus and the, 06, loj, 
133, 142, 146 f. , 213 ; of Diony 
sus on Parnassus, 133, 149 ; of 
Silenus, 95 ; represented Eleu 
sinian and Icarian legends, 

Dante, Apollo invoked, 24 f. ; Botti 
celli s illustrations of, 331 ; idea 
of Parnassus in, /// ; Orphic 



ideas in, 25 ; remembers Lucan, 


Daphnae on the Sacred Way, 218 

Daphne and Erigone, myths of, 368 

Dardanus and Apollonius as magi 
cians, 262 

Darius cured by Democedes, 224 

Daulis, 80, in 

Dead, Dionysus translated from the 
world of the, 102 ; streams poured 
by Odysseus for the, 97 

Death, Aesculapius the awakener 
from, 239, 245 ; Apollo the dealer 
of, 366 , of Dionysus, 112 ; re 
presented by Dionysus, 28 ; taint 
of, mentioned in the Old Testa 
ment, j6o ; Thracian idea of, 84 

Decelea, fortification of, by Spartans, 


Deification of emperors led to imita 
tion of Christ, 265 

Delian festivals of Apollo, 104, 363, 
372-381, 386-389 

Delians, exile and restoration of, 

Jtj, 378 

Deliastae, 376 

Delion, the Marathonian, lo.f, 376 

Delium, festival organised at, and 
battle of, 363 

Delos, 2, 9 ; description and general 
history of, 361, 363,372-377, 379, 
383, Sty, J$9. 394< 4<>r I monu 
ments at, 355, 371, 378-380, 384, 
386 f. , 400 ; mythology of, 35, 
350, 356-359, 37 f > 379 3^2-384, 
394, 399 f. i 403 ; ritual and wor 
ship in general at, 255, 355, 360- 
364, 370, 376, 378-382, 387 

Delphi, description of, 22-24; known 
details of monuments and worship 
at, 21 f., 31-33) jfo; history and 
mythology of, 22, 31-35, 119, 
37 f ; oracle at, 26, 34-36, 81, 
122,363, 370 f. ; revellers blocked 
by snow above, 113 ; worship 
and ritual at, 22, 29-33, 35, 364, 

370, 384 

Demaratus inquires about the Eleu- 
sinia, 209 f. 

Demeter, i, 4, j, 8, 17 ; association 
and combination of, with other 
gods, 21, 69, 73 f., 77, 107, 159, 
174, 176, 178 f., 182-185, 208, 
218-220, 273, 303, 401 f. ; char 
acter and meaning of the divinity 
of, 79 f.., 47, 51 L, 67-69, 71-74, 
133, 180, 182, 185, 215, 303; 
leading points in the myth of, 50, 
55, 57 >59 61-63, 66-68, 71 f., 
105, in, 119, 175 f., 185, 206 f. , 
215, 217, 303 ; development of 
the worship and myth of, 46, 48 f. , 
51 f.,54,56, 60 f., 75, 77. 104, 
in, i22i., 125 f., 163, 175 f., 
194, 221, 233 ; monuments of the 
worship of, 70, 72 f., 189-196, 
124, 271 ; processional song in 
honour of, 213 ; Dionysus of the 
Lesser Mysteries with, 125 

Demetrius the Phalerean at Eleusis, 

Demetrius Poliorcetes, violated the 
degrees of Eleusinian initiation, 

Democedes, 223 f. , 226, 234 

Democracy, triumph of Dionysus 
with, 122 

Democratic reform of the greater 
Dionysia, 134 

Demophoon, legends of, 62-66, 94, 

175 22 9 

Demotic stelae from Memphis, 14 
Dendrites, Dionysus as, 106, 159, 176 
Dendrophoria, Thraco - Phrygian 

annual custom, 759 
"Denis, vive notre bon pere," old 

French song, 779 
Denmark, Meursius in, 348 i. 
Deo, the Eleusinian, 133 
Diana and Apollo, 150 
Diaulos, at the Delia and Apollonia, 

3tdw/xa of Eleusinian temple, 

meaning of, 797, 203 
Dicaeus, describes Eleusinia, 209 f. 
Dido-Anna and Aphrodite, 272 
Dili, Megale, the modern name of 

Delos, 361 

2 F 



Dio Cassius, trustworthiness of his 
account of honours voted to Julius 
Caesar, 37 f. ; inconsistently en 
dorses clairvoyance of Apollonius, 
261 f. 

Diocles, summoned by departing 
Demeter, 63 

Diocletian s Insularum provincia in 
cluded 53 islands called Cyclades, 
393 ! Cyclades came to be called 
Dodecanisia, ^97 

Diogenia, daughter of Celeus (Pam- 
phos), 63 

Dione and Aphrodite, 272, 284, 
jyj-f., 318 L 

Dionysia, the City, are the Greater, 
*35 ! foundation of the Greater, 
f 3 2 > I 34 ^ I the Anthesteria con 
trasted with the Greater, 131 ; 
Thucydides calls the Anthesteria 
the older, i 31 ; the Lesser are the 
Rural, 131 ; the Rural took shape 
in Icaria, 113 

Dionysiac customs, persistence in 
Thrace of, 88 

Dionysiaca, the, of Nonnus, JTJQ 

Dionysodotos, Apollo, 31 

Dionysus, i, 4, 5, 9, 15, 17 f. ; the 
god of song and dance and tra 
gedy, 29, 31, 75, 79, 86, 97, 102- 
104, us, i iji *33> sj6, 143 ; the 
god of the nether-world, 29, 31, 
34, 79, 97, 06 f., 112, 127, 132, 

185,310 ; the god of the real world, 
(a) in general, oo, 02, 102 f. , 
130, 140, 144, 217, (b] of trees 
and vegetation, 82 f. , 106, 150, 
(c) of various elements, parts, and 
events in nature, 24, 02-06, 100, 
102, 107, 133, 139 f. , 143, 145, 

140, 152, 156, 158, 178 f. , 212 ; 

attendants and others variously 
possessed by, (a) inspiration and 
possession by (generally con 
sidered), 04, 97 f., 133, 136, j-jo, 

141, 144, 155, 158 i.,(b) Bac 
chanals possessed by, 11 2, 156 f . , 
(c) Bassarids possessed by, 79, 

(d) Corybantes and Curetes at the 
birth of, 142, (e) Graces led by, 
104, 135, (/) Maenads possessed 
by, 112, 141, 184 f. , (g} Midas 
as, 79, 03, (h) the Muses and, 
31, 06, 103 f., 135, (i) nymphs, 
naiads, and waterfolk of, 04, (j) 
Pans of, 99, (k] seasons of, 06, 
(/) Satyrs and, 79, 99, (m) the 
Thyades of, 133 ; the Saviour God 
(of Eleutherae), 22, 34, 79, 118- 
120, 133, 145, 150, 161 f. ; festi 
vals of, and ritual in general, (a) 
characteristics of festivals of, 4, 
85, 89 f. , 106, 112 f. , 132, 134, 
140, 372, (b) Thracian festivals 
of, 86-00, (c) Athenian festivals 
of, 113, 128-132, (d) Boeotian 
festivals of, 103, (e) Icarian 
country festivals of, 108, 112-114, 
(f) Eleusinian rites of, 214, (g) 
observances in honour of, 36, 140, 
155 ; Thracian origin of, 22, 77, 
79, 82, 84, 86-00, 02, 04, 06, 
99 f., 103, 106, 113, 126, 138, 
162, 164, 177 , 180, 104 ; Orphic 
features in the myth of, 112, 125- 
128, 156 L, 168-173, 177, 181 ; 
other gods and, (a) Adonis as, 
201, (b) Aesculapius and, 220 f., 
247, (c) Aphrodite and, 273,- 
(d) Apollo and, 21 f. , 29, 31, 102, 
104, 159, 162, 185, 372, (e) 
Ariadne and, 130, 328, (/) Eleu 
sinian Demeter and, 77, 107, 125, 
174-176, 178 f. , 182-185, 208, 
210, 212, (g) Hades of Eleusis 
and, 176-178, [k] Persephone 
and, 144, 178, (*) Plutus and, 
08, (j) Zeus and, 22, 142 ; lead 
ing points in the myth of, (a] 
general, 34, 77, 101 f., 143, 158, 
318, (b) birth-legends of, 81, in, 
114, 142, 148, 163-165, 318, 
(c) Attic legend of (i. ) early 
Icarian legends of, 80, 105, in, 
(ii. ) Semachidae legends of, 105, 
(iii. ) Eleutheraean legends of, 
118 f., (iv. ) later Attic story of, 



soj, rn, n 7, 779, 128, ij2, 
(d) Eastern myth of, 02, 140 f. , 
W. 57. J6j-j6j, i68,(e) 
Euboean legend of, 143, (/) 
Theban legend of, 140 f. , 148, 
777 ; development of the myth of, 
8 r f., (a) from points outside 
Greece, 34, 79, 81 f. , 83, 140 f. , 
163-165, 1 68 f., 233, (<J) from 
places outside of Athens, 34^ 104, 
IT i, u8i., 121, 123, 139, 773-, 
(c) progress to and in Athens, 34, 
joi, 1 21 -i 23, 125 f., 130-132, 
154, 175, (d] to its latter-day 
shape, 2r f., 36, 79, 106, 
143, 186 , characteristics of, 
(A) violence, extremes, and con 
tradictions in, (i.) contradictions 
in general, 30, 78, 83, 85, 93, 
10 1, 113, 115, 136, 144, 149, 
156, (ii.) the pitiless and out 
rageous god, 22, 79, 99-707-, 770, 

128, 757, 759 f., (iii.) the 
cowardly and crazed god, 77 f. , 
99, 779 ; (B) higher religious and 
moral aspects of, (i. ) the elusive 
mystery and truth of his being, 
22, 20, 80, 05, 101-104, f 33 f-. 
136, 148, 779 f., 183-185, 368, 
(ii. ) Christian aspects of, 34, 79, 
777, 134, 138, 145, 153-157, 
(iii. ) Athenian perfections of, 80 f. , 

702, 70J, 77J, 777, 162, 2l8, 

(iv. ) power of faith in, 20, 76 f., 

97, 1 08, 7JO f. , 133 f., 140 f., 

I 5 2 -i54> i5<> f - 
Diophantus of Sphettus, his prayer 

to Aesculapius, 241 
Dirce, Cadmus sowed dragon s teeth 

near, 7./7 ; Achelous daughter, 

invoked for Dionysus, 756 
Dissection practised by Pythagorean 

Alcmaeon at Croton, 223 
Dithyrambic contests, tripod 

awarded for prize in, 36 
Dithyrambus, contradictions of 

Dionysus mirrored in, 115 ; influ- 

I^nce of, on Thespis and tragedy, 
r/,- f. 

Divine man, ideal of, evolved among 
Greek gods, 20 

Divinity of Aesculapius, Demeter, 
and Dionysus, hardly recognised 
by Homer, 233 

Divus, implications of the use of, 43 

Doctors (Greek), Homeric status of, 
222, 226, 230 ; deference for 
Apollo and Aesculapius of ancient, 
220, 230, 234, 238 ; career of 
Democedes as a public, 223 f. ; 
modern status of, 222, 267-269 

Dodecanisia, a name for many 
Aegean islands, ^97 

Dodona, 70 ; Aphrodite s origin at, 
315 f. ; Dione was the Aphrodite 
of, 318 

Dog-star, Maera became the, 777 

Doge, marriage of, with the Sea, 7J7 

Dogs, the nocturnal touch of, 
brought healing, 235 f. ; forbidden 
at Delos, 360 ; frieze of, on Arte 
mis temple at Epidaurus, 250 

Dolichos, the, at the Delia and 
Apollonia, 388 

Domitian, Apollonius saw from 
Ephesus the murder of, 261 

Doric style, bad example of, in 
Hadrian s gate at Eleusis, 790, 
792 ; last extremity of, at Delos, 
387 ; of the Tholos at Epidaurus, 

Dotian plain, Demeter came south 
from, to Attica and Cnidus, 793- 

Draconus, promontory of Nicaria, 
where Dionysus was born, 163 

Drama, contrast of Greek with 
Chinese and Japanese, 772 

Dreams, circumstances attending, 
and results gained by, in Aescula- 
pian temples, 235 f. ; prayed to, 
as the children of Apollo, 242 ; 
porches in Aesculapian sanctuaries 
for awaiting, 248 

Drugs, Homeric knowledge of, 
228 f. ; miraculous power of cer 
tain, in Homer, 231 ; knowledge 
possessed by Medea and Circe 
from Aeetes of miraculous, 231 ; 



Chiron in relation to knowledge of, 
232 ; Aesculapius and his sons 
associated with miraculous, 231 ; 
Herophilus called the hands of 
the gods, 237 ; the sun -god is the 
source of miraculous knowledge 
of, 231, 237 
Drunkards, Dionysus and brawls of 

leering, 79 

Dryads, the, and Dionysus, 06 
Dyalos, Dionysus surnamed, 97 

EAGLES, golden, at the Delphian 
navel-stone, 31 

Earth, Agave and Maenads are 
angry powers of, 160 ; clung to 
the Telesterion at Eleusis, 206 ; 
Delphi the centre of, 32 ; king 
dom of, in the heavens, 13 ; oracles 
of, supplanted at Delphi, jj- ; Pen- 
theus father s mother, 756, 158, 
160 ; and Poseidon at Delphi, 
372 ; stricken for woes of Dem- 
eter-Cybele and Ishtar, 302 f. 

Earthquake, Dionysus directs the, 
100, 144, 158 ; Maenads as the 
many - handed, 143, 159 f - , 
earthquakes in Cyprus, at Dalin 
(Idalium) and Old Paphos, 290 

East, gods from the, 77 ; Aphrodite 
from the, 273 ; Dionysus en 
tangled with, in Euboea, Nicaria, 
and Naxos, 163 ; second birth of 
Dionysus connected with, 164 

Eastern pedigree of Aphrodite and 
Cinyras, 2O,r ; uncleanliness of 
Aphrodite, 297 ; affinities of 
Adonis can be overstated, 201 

Echion the Earth-sprung, Pentheus 
father, 147, 156, 158 

Egypt, one of Hyginus 1 insulae, 394 ; 
the gods of, 77 unknown to 
early Delos, 402 invasion of 
Delos by, 401 i. influence on 
Aesculapius worship through 
Serapis of, 254 

Egyptians, their knowledge of herbs 
in Homer, 231 

Egyptian poet of Dionysiaca, 92 ; 
doctors and Democedes, 224 ; 
strain of Dionysus, 168 ; use of 
rosettes, 251 

ei/)a0tu>T77S, Dionysus called, 166 

Elagabalus, coins of, 41 ; his reign 
a Nightmare of Religious Refor 
mation, 260 

Elements, Dionysus becomes the in 
carnation of the, 90 ; wine, fire, 
water, gold, and unusual bright 
ness are the Dionysiac, 97, 92, 
102 ; fusion through song and the 
dance of the Dionysiac, 103 

Eleusinion at Athens, the, 124, 207 f. 

Eleusis, 165 , landscape and posi 
tion of, SS> 57, 187 f -> 218; 
Athens and, 60, 122, 208, 376 ; 
account of monuments of, 7, j, 
44, 60 f. , 186, 188-193, 797-207, 
218, 379 ; chief points in the 
legend of, jj, 57, 59-67, 63-63, 
in, 779, 793- ; legend of, com 
pared with others, 33, 50, 243 ; 
compared (i. )with Icarian legends, 
104, 107, 133 ; (ii. ) with Pelepon- 
nesian legends, 65, 105 ; the 
mysteries of, 4 f., 68, 76, 122, 
180-182, 200 f. , 2ij f. , 376, 403 ; 
the Holy Alliance of, 77, 776- 
178, 211, 401 f. ; Aesculapius at, 
2/9 ; Aphrodite near, 277, 273 \ 
Dionysus at, 97, 727, 125, 174- 
777, 202 ; Eubouleus at, 776 ; 
Hades at, 77^, 776 ; Persephone 
Daeira at, 48 

Eleutherae, Dionysus of, 34, 104, 
in, 118-120, 143, 162 ; image 
of Dionysus at Athens from the 
temple at, 779 

Elis, Aphrodite in, 277 

Elysium, 75 f. , 87 f. 

Emanations from Dionysus, Muses, 
Hours, etc., as, 06 

Emathia, the cradle of Philip s 
power, 79 ; north of Olympus, 
where was Mount Bermius and 
the gardens of Midas, 79 ; har 
boured myth of Dionysus, 79 



Emathia and Pieria, 87 

Emathian conqueror, the great, 79 

Emesa, Julia Domna, daughter of 
priest at, 260 

Emperius, places Satrachos at Pa- 
phos, 346 

Emperors of Rome, allegiance to 
Venus-Aphrodite of, joo ; sanct 
ity of Apollonius compared with 
divinity of, 265 ; deification of, 
rooted in previous habits of mind, 
40 ; not work of clever men, 37, 

Engel argues that Aphrodite was 
Greek, 272, 315 f. ; is responsible 
for adoption of Paphian Bocarus, 

35 2 
English occupation of Cyprus, 277, 


Epacria, Plothea, Semachidae, and 
Icaria, confederation of mount 
aineers, 105, ng 

Epacria, Icarian legend of the visit 
of Dionysus to, 105, in 

iTTOuvri, as an epithet of Persephone 
in Iliad and Odyssey, 48 

Ephesus, place for yearly assembly 
of Acndpxcu, 44 ; founded by 
Androcles, 122 ; privileges of 
/3a<nXets at, 122 ; Domitian s 
death witnessed from, by Apollon 
ius, 261 

^TTi/SaTTjpia and eTrt/Scrnjpios, 13 f. 

Epicureanism, a refuge, 41 ; first 
master of Apollonius believed in, 
2 51 I Apollonius rejected, 255 ; 
Lucian biassed against Apollonius 
by, 263 

Epicurios, Apollo, father of Aescu 
lapius, 2/9 

Epidaurus, 2, 5, 243 ; journey to 
Hieron of, 246 ; description of 
Hieron at, 247 ; precinct of Aes 
culapius near, 248-254 ; Tholos 
of Polycletus at, 250-254 ; theatre 
of Polycletus at, 246 f. ; in 
scriptions describing miracles at, 
237, 254 ; statue of Aphrodite 
found at, 270, 273 ; legendary 

claims of, 243 f. ; legend of, 2/9, 

221, 233, 244 f. ; importance in 
history of surgery and medicine of, 

222, 237 

Epimenides prepared Athens for 
Solon s laws, 123, 131, 175 ; from 
Phaestus near Cnossus, 124 ; the 
Eleusinion and Lesser Mysteries 
and, 124, 129 ; statue at Athens 
of, 124, 208 ; Dionysus and, 127, 


Epione, Gentleheart, wife of Aescula 
pius, 243, 249 

Epirus, theatrical features in May 
festivals of, 9 

Episcopia of the Venetian Cornari, 


TTiTV/ji.pla, epithet of Aphrodite, 310 
Epoptical Mysteries, the, time of, 

208 f. 
Eprius Marcellus, the career of, 


Erechtheus killed in war with Eleusis, 

Erichthonius, succeeded Amphictyon, 

Erigone, legends and ritual concern 
ing, 105, 107, 709 f., if 4 f., /JJ, 

Erinys, epithet of Demeter, 176 

Eros, painting of, in the Tholos, 253 \ 
Harpocrates, Apollo and, 401 

Eryx, foundation of Aphrodite-temple 
from, 286, 323 

Euboean legends of Dionysus, 143, 


Eubouleus at Eleusis, 174, 170, 194 
Eucharis, a purely Greek epithet of 

Aphrodite, 298 
Euhemerus, his views applied to 

traditions of Mt. Meroe, 166 
Eumaeus, character of, 47 
I .umcnides, The, protest against 

matriarchy in, 171 
Eumolpidae, the Deliastae chosen 

from the, 174, 176, 376 
Eumolpus from Thrace, 174 ; father 

of Immarados, 122 ; station of 

the Mystae at the tomb of, 218 \ 



cultivation of the vine and trees 
by, 107 ; a son of Celeus, 63 

Eunapius, testimony in favour of 
Apollonius, 264 

Euripides, general account of, as a 
thinker and poet, 18 f. , 29, 71, 
136, 138, 143, 149, 157, 159, 
161 f. , 166 i. , 169-171, 178 ; 
Aphrodite as represented by, 298- 
300, 303 ; Apolline legends in, 
35> 35$> 3^4 ; Dionysus-worship 
and legends of, 81, 136, 142 f. , 
150 f. , i Si , the Tiresias of, 
143 f. ; debt of Milton and Goethe 
to, 146, 148, 150, 162 

Eusebius, tribute to Apollonius, 
263 f. 

Euthydemus, Socrates thinks his 
books are on medicine, 224 

Evagoras and Conon, used forests 
of Cyprus, 308 

Evangel of Apollonius, Philostratus 
called to write the, 259 

Evangelistria, Tenian feast of the 
Holy, 378, 389 

Evariges, letter of Sidonius Apollin- 
aris to, 265 f. 

Evian god, the, Evoe to, 144 

Evoe, 97, 144 

Evolution, natural, of politics and 
religion, 16, 19-21 , 53 

Examples of Odysseus and Pandarus 
an incentive to know medicine, 

^oxcirare, "your excellence," was 
the style of Greek doctors, 268 

FAITH, required by Aesculapius, 


Falsehood, divinities free from, 18; 

Apollo could not touch, 369 f. 
Famagosta-Salamis, history of ruins 

at, 283 
Family, change in, the Dionysus 

birth-legend and, 163 
Family-life, Demeter who sanctified 

the bonds of, 72 
Farmer s god, Dionysus the, 105, 


Fast-day, Icarian observances like, 


Fates, Aphrodite the eldest of the, 

272 ; measure led by the glorious, 

in yearly Eleusinia, 215 
Father-god of Thracians in Cyprus, 

Fatherhood, the duties of Apollo and 

Zeus, 369 

Fathers of the Christian Church, 3 
Fawn skins, symbolise for Dionysus 

the starry sky, 140, 142 
Ferule, the, in Bacchic worship, 142 
Festivals, Aegean and Apolline, 

372-381, 386-388; Dionysiac, 

106, 112-114, 128-130, 134 
Fetichism and primitive religion, far 

below Greek religion, 27 
Fetich -stone or Baetylus, on Mt. 

Cynthos, 386 
Feuilletonist, Philostratus a Parisian, 

Fig-man, Phytalus the, at Lakkia- 

dae, 217 
Fig-tree, in bas-relief of Dionysus 

at the house of Icarius, 106 
Filiiis dei, Aesculapius as, 240 f. 
Finances the, of modern Cyprus, 

Fir-tree, the, of Pentheus at Corinth, 

Thraco - Phrygian dendrophoria, 


Fire, association of Dionysus with, 
1 6, 62, 64, 78, 92 f. , 103, 133, 
145, 149, 156, 158 f., 179 f., 

212, 245 

Flames, personified by Agave and 

Maenads, 137 

Flamininus, deification of, 40 
Flash of the elements of Dionysus, 


Flattery, attributed to Greeks, 14 
Fleet, the clay fleet of Cinyras, 293 
Flesh, Dionysus an eater of raw, 96 
Flowers, festival of, at Athens, 130 

f. ; flowers of Greece inspired 

Polycletus, 251, 253 
Forests abounded in Cyprus, 308 ; 

forests, Scandinavian, 6 



Fortification, Eleusis a, in early 

days, 790, 198 
Frari church in Venice, picture in, 

of Cornari of Episcopia, 289 
Freedmen, part assigned to, in 

imperial services, J9 
Frenzy, inspired by Dionysus, 100 
Frogs, immense success of, due to 

religious causes, 216 

GAIA, j<5, 64 

Galignani, Simone, a Venetian pub 
lisher, 331 

Gamelion and Lenaeon, 132 

Gardens, statue of Aphrodite in the, 
at Athens, 277 

Garin, Nicholas du Colos, at Colossi, 

Gebeleizis, a name for the primitive 
Dionysus, 86 

Genetor, the Cyclades are chosen 
islands of Apollo, 393 ; Delian 
altar of Apollo, j>79, 382 

Genii, of later Emperors, 38 

Genius of Roman people, time- 
honoured worship of, 40 

Genoese, the, in Cyprus, 278 

Geographical use of term Cyclades 
under Rome, jgj 

Geography, astronomy and mytho 
logy and, confused in a Delian 
legend, 358; Meursius idea of 
ancient, 348 

Geologists, on Cyprus, 275 f. 

Gephyrismoi, gibes at Cephissus- 
bridge, 218 

Germans, the Great God of, 6 

Gibes, used by lambe to diver 
Demeter, 68 

Glaucus, prayer of, 29 

Goat, vine - destroying, slain by 
Icarius, 108 

Gold, significance of, in Diony 
sus legends, 92, 97, 102, 

Golgoi, perplexing connection with 
Paphos, 28s 

Gorgon s head, sent forth by drea 
Persephone, 48 

Gospels, Godhead of, 79 ; the life of 
Apollonius and the, 25$ 

joths, overran Thrace and Illyria, 
87 ; letter to the King of the, 
26^ f - 

otterineinanderleben, of the Olym 
pians, 20 

out, appeal of Diophantus for cure 
of, to Aesculapius, 2.ff f. 

}ozzoli, Benozzo, Pausias and, 253 
Jraces, the, Dionysus and, 96, 104, 

IJ5, 303 

pcua, Demeter surnamed, 70 
irasshoppers, invasion of Cyprus 

by, 280 f. 
Jravia, Odysseus danced the Syrtos 

at, 400 
recia (Magna), no proof of early 

worship of Aesculapius in, 225 ; 

Dionysus in, 186 

reek religion, 21, 26, 29, 75 f., 

779, 210 
ryaros, not of the Cyclades, 392 ; an 

anchor of Delos, 361 

HADEPHAGIA, Demeter, 57 
Hades, the Eleusinian legend of, 
58 f. , 69, 73, 7S, 9 8 I the Eleu 

sinian worship of, 77, 176-178, 

797, 218 
Hadrian s gate at Eleusis, a bad 

imitation, 790, 792 
Hagnon deposed, and Brasidas put 

in his place at Amphipolis, 41 
Hair worn for Dionysus, 7JJ 
Halicarnassus, 7 

Hall of Cimon, the, at Eleusis, 799 
Harpocrates, Horus, and Apollo on 

Delos, 402 
Harvest Queen, the, jo 

home, Demeter and, 69 

usages, Dionysus and, 217 

Health (Hygieia), Panacea, Teles- 

phorus (Convalescence), attend on 

Aesculapius, 240 
Heaven, kingdom on earth of, 13 
Hecate sitting in her cave, j6, 759, 


Helena, St. , legend of, in Cyprus, 275 



Helicon, placed on Parnassus by 

Cervantes, 24 ; Thracian worship 

of the Muses on, 103 
Hellas, Eleusinian divinities at the 

great crisis of, 211 
Hellenic genius in religion met 

Semitic in Cyprus, 273 ; ideal, 
Apollo, Dionysus, and the, 162 
Hellenism, effect on Aphrodite of, 


Henry the Eighth, preface of Eras 
mus addressed to, 260 
Hephaestus fought for Greeks, 46 
Hera set Titans on Zagreus, 128, 

149, 167, 181 ; sent Pytho against 

Leto on Delos, j>j<? ; borrowed 

Aphrodite s cestus, 299 
Heracles, 87, 371 f. 
Heraclitus and Dionysus, 777, 779 f. , 


Hermes, 30, 114, 122, 372 
Hermione, Demeter-legend of, 176 
Hero physician, Athenian shrine of 

the, 2j>9 f. 
Herod, 14 
Heroes, the Homeric, fought hard 

that we might think clearly, 229 ; 

misprised Demeter s gifts, 46 
Herophilus on the miraculous nature 

of drugs, 2j>7 
Hierocles set Apollonius up against 

Christ, 264 

Hieron of Aesculapius, the, 244, 246 
Hierophant in the Eleusinia, 209, 

212, 2IJ 

Hieroskipou is Strabo s iepoKrjiria, 


Hill, holy, of Dionysus, 94 
Hipparchus and Onomacritus, 727 
Hippocrene on Parnassus, 24 
History of the worship of Aphro 
dite, 303 f. 

Hittite strain discoverable in Aphro 
dite, 282, 320-323 
Hittites, the, in Cyprus, 280, 321- 


Home, Demeter the goddess of, 69 
Honey in legends of Dionysus, 108, 

Hope, Demeter still had, 77 
Horned Isle (Kerastia), poetic name 

of Cyprus, 274 

Horns, Delian altar of, 384 f. 
Horse, cure at Delos of a, 254 
Horse-racing at Delos, j>77, 380 
Horus, Apollo and Harpocrates, 

Hospitallers, Knights, at Colossi, 

288 ; on Delos, j>79 
Hospitals, the temples of Aescul 
apius were not, 229 f. 
Hostanes and Apollonius, 262 
Hours, the, and Dionysus, 96 
Humanity of Aesculapius, 239 
Humility of Aesculapius, 242 
Huns overran Thrace and Illyria, 87 
Hunter, Dionysus a, 96, 101, 128, 

160, 185 
Huntress, Artemis the, at Epidaurus, 

Huntsman, Dionysus the wild, 96, 

707, 128, 160, 185 
Hygieia, 220, 240 
Hyperboreans at Delos, J79 

IACCHAGOGOS, another name for the 

Hierophant, 2/7 
lacchos, 727 f. , ij 4 f. , ij8 f. , 210, 

lambe, 68 
lano, King of Cyprus, his ransom, 


lasion, father of Plutus, 97 
Icaria, (i) the Attic deme of, 5, 32, 

36, 80, 101, 104-115, 117-119, 

121, 129, 133, 368; (2) (Icaros 

or Nicaria) the Island, in, 163 

(see Italia) 
Icarian legends and customs, 104- 

115, 117-119, 123, 131 f. , 164, 

Icarius, Si, 105, 107-11 i, 114 f. , 

Icaros (Icarus, Icaria, or Nicaria), 

in, 163 
Ictinus at Bassae, 204 ; at Eleusis 

(Hall of Initiation), 191, 199 f., 




Idalian fields, death of Adonis on, 

Idalium, dependent on Chittim of 

the Phoenicians, at, 282, 291, 


Illyrian tribes and Thracians, 86 f. 
Immarados of Eleusis, killed in war 

with Athens, 122 
Immigration, early Greek, into 

Cyprus, 280 
Immortality, ideas in the Mysteries 

about, 176, 181, 211 
Imperialism, Roman, fj-fj, 37-39, 

43 t 
Incubation in temples of Aesculapius, 


India, political state of, 12 
Indian Dionysus, a deification of 

Alexander s conquests, 29 
Indo-Caucasus, wine first cultivated 

on, i6j 
Initiation and the initiated at Eleusis, 

176, 181, 189, 208 i., 218 i. 
Ino, a reveller ofCithaeron, 147, 150 
Inopus, Leto s travail on the banks 

of the, 356 

Inquisition, the Spanish, 8 
Inscriptions, early Cypriote, Aphro 
dite does not occur on, j2r f. 
Inspiration of Dionysus, 29, 96 f. , 

102, 117, zjj, 220 
Instruments used by doctors in days 

of Democedes, 223 
Insula, Hyginus 1 idea of, includes 

Mauritania and Egypt, 394 

Insularum provincia of Diocletian 

called tirapxLa- vrjffuv KvK\d5uv 


Intensity of Dionysus lacking in 

Aesculapius, 220 
Intolerance, Mohammedan, in 

Thrace, 85 
Ion colonised Cyclades as Apollo s 

son, 391 

Ionian festival at Delos, 372-374 
Islands, May festivals of, 89 

British rule of, 277 
race, Apollo the father of, J79 

382, 393 

ophon, Antigone, 904 ff., interpo 
lated by, 166 

phigenia, love of, for Orestes, /jo ; 
struggle for, and the couvade, 

ris, her fruitless message to Demeter, 

shtar, Aphrodite and, 273, joo ; 

and Demeter, 303 ; descent to 

Urugal of, 30 f ; lament for Tam- 

muz of, joo f. 

[sis and Apollo at Delos, 402 
Islands and peninsulas, confusion of, 

in Homer, 392 

tsmenus, the softly gliding, 133 
Isolarii, Venetian books bearing title 

of, 328-331 
[srael, j, 18, 274 
ttalia, read Icaria for, in Ant. 1119, 


Ithaca, no wheat land, 47 , 377 
Ivy-god, Apollo, 30 f. 
Ivy and parsley, Mystae crowned 

with, 217 ; branches for Bacchic 

worship, 142 

JACK-IN-THE-GREEN, Dionysus at 
tached to himself the attributes 
of a, 83 

Japanese and Chinese drama, masks 
in, 172 

Jason, a pupil of Chiron, 232 

jealousy of Aphrodite s Assyrian 
nature, 298 ; prayer to Aphrodite 
for deliverance from, joo 

Jerusalem, Augustus offerings at, S ; 
buildings at Paphos and buildings 
at, jo6 

Jews, religion of, 19 ; Moeragenes 
maintains Dionysus is the god of 
the, 106 ; Delos and the, J7J 

Jordan, modern Delian legend of 
the, jj6 

Journalism, Apollonius the victim of, 

Joy, mixture of, with sorrow, in 
Demeter, 73 

Julii, oaths In acta divi, 43 

Julius, Jupiter, 37 



JuliaDomna, Philostratus, Romancer- 

in-ordinary to, 258-260 
Jupiter, philosophical supreme god, 

15, 20, 26 ; Julius, 37 

, 44 
Kadapot, on Sybarite inscription, 


Kerastia, a name of Cyprus, 345 f. 
Kerykes, the Deliastae chosen from, 

Kittim, the Phoenician Larnaca- 

Citium, 28r 

Kolossi, Garin de, at Colossi, 288 
Kore in Orphic story, 181 
Ki/JcXddwi tirapxla vyvuv, Diocle 

tian s Insularum provincia, called 

the, 303 

LABYRINTH below the Epidaurian 

Tholos, 253 f. ; Theseus in the 

Cretan, 400 
Lakkiadae, station of the Mystae at, 

Lapethus, importance of, in North 

Cyprus, 277 
Lapithae, Aesculapius the tribal god 

of, 221, 233 ; on the Epidaurian 

temple of Aesculapius, 249 
Lararium of Severus, Christ, Abra 

ham, Orpheus, -Apollonius, and 

emperors in the, 265 
Lares Compitales and genius 

Augusti, 38 
Larnaca, early fcmndation at, by 

Phoenicians, 281 ; fortified by 

Knights Templars, 288 
Lasus of Hermione detected Onoma- 

critus, 727 

Laughless stone at Eleusis, 60 f. 
Laurel tree, Lord Bacchus, lover of 

the, jo f. ; Leto and the, jj6, 

j6j ; connection of Apollo through 

Daphne with, 368 
Layard, Sir Henry, de Mas Latrie s 

dedication to, 278 
Lazarus found a cross in Cyprus, 

Lemnos, destruction of, predicted, 127 

Lenae, biennial procession of, 132 
Lenaea, the, and mid-winter festival 

of Icaria, 132 ; first tragedy at 

Athenian, 132 
Lenaean Dionysus earlier than 

Dionysus Eleuthereus, 118, 132 
Lenaeon in Boeotia and Icaria, 

112 f. , 132 ; Gamelion and, 132 ; 

Brumalia in the season of, 112 
Lenides, or Lenae, 132 
Lepanto, the battle of, 331 
Lepidus and the favour of Tiberius, 


Lesbos, 14 
Leto, traditions and character of, 

355-358, 363, 370, 383 f. 
Lightning, Apollo sent the, for sig 
nal to Theoris, j>77 
Ligyon, Achilles, so named for not 

taking mother s milk, 64 
Liknites, lacchos surnamed, 128 
Limassol, land at, for old Paphos, 

2?5> 2 $7 
Limestone in Cyprus is friable, 288 

Lions, frieze of, on Aesculapius 

Temple at Epidaurus, 248 ; on 

cornice of the Epidaurian Tholos, 


Little-in-the-fields, Mr. Browning s 
name for the rural Dionysia, 131 

Lotus blossom, miraculous effect 
of, 231 

Lusignan, Hugues I. of, gave Col 
ossi to Hospitallers, 288 

Lusignans, feudalism of, in Cyprus, 

Lusios, Dionysus called, f^o, 162 

Lustrations of Delos, 362 f. 

Lycian Patara, oracles of Apollo at, 

Lycians in Cyprus, 279 f. 

Lycorea, peak of Parnassus, 25 

Lycurgus and Dionysus, story of, 
77 ; a Thracian, 77 ; his hatchet, 


Lydian airs, and the musical es 
capade of Cinyras, 294 

Lydias, Dionysus and the, 757 



Lyre, Apollo s, lent to Dionysus, 31 ; 
Apollo and Hermes invented the, 
372 ; seven strings of Apollo s, 

Lysander, deification of, 41 

MACEDONIA, 79, 86 f. , 737, 22r, 

379, 386 f. 
Machaon, son of Aesculapius, 222, 

Macris, Mysa, daughter of Aris- 

taeus, nurse of Dionysus, 143 
Madeira, restocked with vines from 

Cyprus, 288 
Madness, Dionysus - worship and, 

no, 120, 141, 145, 147, i6r f. 
Maenads, in legends and worship of 

Dionysus, 31 , 79, 100, 112, 128, 

I 37< f 39< *4 f > f J5> T 50< 138-160 

181, 184 f. 
Maera, in the Old Attic Icarian 

legend, 709-7/7, 77,/ 
Magdalene, St. Mary, in Cyprus, 


Magicians, Apollonius among the, 

Magnes of Icaria, 777 

Maidenswell at Eleusis, 60 f. 

Malta, ruins on, and Paphian ruins, 

Mandra, a sheepfold in Cyprus, 
often a cave, 289 

Manwrecker, Dionysus, surnamed, 

Maps of Cyprus, modern, 274 

Maps, neglect by Meursius of avail 
able, Jj-7 

Marathon, mountains near, early 
Thracians settled on, 77 f. , 80, 
soj ; journey from, to Icaria over 
comes Dionysus, 106 ; the wilder 
ness of, if 4 ; the Deliastae at, 
376 ; Delion at, 376 ; daisies grow 
on the field of, 252 

Marathonian tetrapolis, the worship 
of Apollo from, 104 

Marathus of Phoenicia, the Snail s 
Tower at, and the south wing at 
Paphos, 308, 314 

Marco (San), title of Cavaliere di, 

Mardonius, devastated the Hall of 

Pisistratus, 79^ 
Maron, wine given by, 97 
Marpessa and Apollo, 368 
Marriage of Dionysus and Ariadne, 

130 ; of Dionysus and Basilissa, 

130 f. ; of Dionysus and Perse 
phone, ij8 ; of the doge and the 

sea, 7j7. 
Masks, Japanese and Chinese, use of, 

in plays, 172 ; use of, in tragedy, 

a barbaric survival, 172 
MacrroeiS^s.Strabo s epithet of, proves 

his Olympus was Troodos, j2j 
Plater dolorosa, Demeter as, 77 
Matriarchy, protest of Apollo 

against, 777 
Mauritania, one of Hyginus" insu- 

lae, 394 
Mavrocordato, Alex., was a doctor 

of Padua, 268 
Maximus of Aegae wrote of, and 

shared, ascetic life of Apollonius, 

*S7 I 

May-day festival, ancient, at Icaria, 
772 ; at modern Corfu, 89 

Mayor of Thebes, a doctor, 267 

Measure, Attic sense of, in Diony 
sus-worship, /Of, 77j> 

Medea had knowledge of miracu 
lous drugs, 231 ; Aphrodite as 
represented in the, 300 

Media worships Dionysus, 140 

Mediaeval church, laws of purifica 
tion in, 360 ; churches, ruins of, 
in Cyprus, 283 

Mediation, final requirement of, by 
Aesculapius, 254, 256 

Medicine (Greek) early (i.) begin 
nings of, 223-225 (ii.) practical 
bearings of Homeric, 228 f. (Hi. ) 
positive and mythical aspects of, 
232-234; later perfection of, (i.) 
sacred, 222, 226, 230, 232, 237 
f. (ii.) secular, 223-22^, 229 f., 
234 f. , 238 f. ; modern Greek, 
study of, 222, 268 



Meeting-house at Eleusis, and in 

Thrace, for Dionysus -worship, 

Megara, and Icaria, relations of, to 

early comedy, 115 
Meilichius, Dionysus surnamed, 101 
Melanaigis, Dionysus, seen by 

daughters of Eleuther, 120 ; 

Dionysus, madness sent by, 120, 


Meleager, a pupil of Chiron, 232 

Mell supper, 5 

Melpomene, an emanation from 
Dionysus Melpomenos of Eleu- 
therae, 104 

Melpomenos, surname of Dionysus, 
the god of song and dance, 104 

Memphis, 14 

Meroe, thigh mountain, and second 
birth of Dionysus, 765" 

/j.r)poTpa(pris, Dionysus called, 166 

Mesorea, or mid-mountain of Cy 
prus, 275-277 ; devastation of, 

1 33 9 

Messianic vision of Euripides in 

The Bacchanals, 138 
Metagenes of Xypeta, builder of 

Eleusinian temple, 191, 204 
Metanira, legends of, 62, 65, 68, 

Metapontum, story of Parmeniscus 

of, 383 
Methe, painted by Pausias in the 

Tholos, 253 
Meursius, John, his life and work, 

324, 344, 353, 347-351 
Midas, Dionysus, and the legends 

of, 79, 87, 92 f., 204 
Milton s debt to Euripides, 148, 

Mimallones, the Thracian originals 

of Bacchanals, 97 
Mining invented by Cinyras, 294 
Miracles inscribed at Epidaurus, 254; 

wrought by Aesculapius, 234, 237 

f. , 245 ; of Apollonius, sanctioned 

by Aesculapius, .257 

wine a perpetual source of, 97 
of Dionysus, 143, 149, 153 

Miraculous drugs in Homer, moly, 
nepenthe, lotus-blossom, 231 

Mnesicles, Propylaea of, imitated at 
Eleusis, 790 

Mocenigo, Isolario of Benedetto 
dedicated to, 330 

Moeragenes, maintained that Diony 
sus was the god of the Jews, 186 ; 
a bandit of the Taurus, 258 ; the 
Athenian ? told of Apollonius 
life, 258 

Moesa, and her two daughters, of 
Julia Domna s clique, 259 

Moliere, farce made of Democedes 
story, 224 

Moly, Herophilus on drugs com 
pared with Homer s account of, 
237 : 238 

Monastery of St. Nicholas, on Cape 
Curias, 288 

Monks, the destroyers of Eleusis 
were, 188 

Monotheism, of Greek religion, 10 

Morality, the Bacchanals, 7J7 

Mortality of Aesculapius, his mortal 
schooling, 231, 232 

Moscow MSS. of hymns to Demeter 
and Dionysus, 163 

Moses and Apollonius as magicians, 

Mother Rye, Demeter as, 51 

Motion, of the elements of Diony 
sus, 92 

Mountaineer-festivals, two Icarian, 

772 f. 

Mourning for Dionysus, especially 

in Icaria, 96 f. , 772 t. 
Musaeus, Onomacritus falsified, 727 
Musagetes, surname of Apollo, the 

god of song and dance, 104 
Muses, the worship of, with Apollo 

and Dionysus, 25, 31, 78, 96, 

102-104, SJ5 *59 
Music, relation of instruments of, to 

Dionysus, 143 f. 
at the Delia, 380 

Musical contest of Apollo and Ciny 
ras, 29^ 
Mustafa, at the sack of Nicosia, 332 



Mycenae vases, rosettes on, 231 
Myconos and Delos, 330, 363, 376, 

Mylitta and Aphrodite - Urania, 

Myron, arraignment of Alcmaeonidae 
by, 124 

Mystae, yearly procession from 
Athens to Eleusis of, 212-218 

Mysteries, the Eleusinian or Greater, 
122, 123, 14 f, 173 f., 180-180, 
207 - 210, 218 f. ; the Lesser at 
the Athenian Eleusinion, 124 f., 
127 ; the Samothracian, 403 

Mystery, ancient and modern mean 
ing of, 178 

Mystes and Epoptes, degrees of, 

Mythology, j, 4, 7; era of conscious 
analysis ; in, 78; (Greek) con 
trasted with philosophy and 
theology, 32 ; the critic of, must 
not offend the poet, 28 

Myths (Greek), their relation to 
fetichism, 27 ; lives of Christian 
saints and late pagan, 263 ; the 
beautiful, of early Attica, 71, 104- 

NAIADS, give not wine but water, 
108 ; torch-led dance of, 88 (see 
Fire and Maenads) 

Narcissus, the, in myth of Perse 
phone, 36 

Nature - worship in Greece, 73, 
136 f. ; personifications of, 7^ , 
97 ; theory of, at the bottom of 
Eleusinian and Dionysiac worship, 
140, 178-180, 182-183 ; Aescula 
pius and, 220 ; Aphrodite and, 
271, 273 

Nauplia, road from, to the Hieron of 
Aesculapius, 244 

Nausicaa, compared to the Delian 
palm-tree, 333 

Naxia, Tintoretto painted Acropolis 
of, in his Bacchus and Ariadne, 

Naxos, Delian Apollo and, 363, 376, 

380, 400 ; Dionysus, legends of, 

Si, in, ijo, 163 
veuKopia, competition for, .// 
Neocorion at Eleusis, the, 797 
vfUKopos, finally removed from 

meaning temple-sweeper, 44 
Nepenthe, Helen s, stands for curing 

mind through body, 234 f. 
Nero, the foe of mankind, 42 \ 

manner of his birth, 42 ; probably 

gave the Icarian sculptures to the 

Athenian stage, //./ ; as Apollo 

in the flesh, 114 
Nestor, high esteem of doctors felt 

by, 222 ; a pupil of Chiron, 232 ; 

wounding and fall of horse of, 

Netherworld-god, Aesculapius like 
Dionysus a, 220 

New York, Varoschia, Famagosta, 
Salamis, and, 283 

Nicaria (Icaros or Icaria), an 
Aegean island .where Dionysus 
was born, 163 \ Draconus, a pro 
montory on, 163 

Nicholas, St.. a monastery on Cape 
Curias, 288 

Nicias at Delos,. 378-381 ; endow 
ment of prayers by, 380 

Nicosia, cathedral of, built by 
Knights Templars, 288; Venetians 
banished to, 326 ; siege and sack 

of, 332-334 
Nile, connected with the Delian 

Inopus, 336 ; the. Cypriote Pedi- 

aeus and the, 276 
I Niniveh, Aphrodite-Ishtar at, 303 ; 

poem on Ishtar found at, 301 ; 

Adonis of Amathus and the Tam- 

muz-Adonis of, 20.2 
Ninivite, Damis the, told credulous 

tales of Apollonius travels, 

237 f- 
Niobids, Apollo and Artemis pursue, 

North Cyprus, an elegant extract 

from Asia Minor, 277 
North range of Cyprus, age of, 



Northern origin of Aesculapius and 
gods at Eleusis, 220 f. 

Northumberland, Demeter s coun 
terpart in, 49 f. 

Notables, connection with imperial 
worship of provincial meetings of, 


Notre Dame de Bon Secours, Aphro 
dite Sosandra as, 298 
Novices, the Eleusinian, 182, 208 
Nymphs and naiads, 78, 94 
Nysa, curious legends of, 78, 134, 
143, 163-166, 168 

OAK, branches for Bacchic worship, 

Oath, doctors , by Apollo, Aescula 
pius, etc., 220 

Oaths, " In acta divi Augusti " and 
" divi Julii," 43 

Oceanus, Persephone seized near, 


Oceanus, Eleusis son of, 64 
Octavius, an, of the Emperor s Gens, 


Odysseus, the domain of, no wheat- 
land, 47 ; streams poured for the 
dead by, 97, 94 ; anatomical 
knowledge of, 228 ; Chiron s in 
struction of, 232 ; the ship 
wrecked, 273 

Odysseus of Gravia, a modern 
Leonidas, 400 

Oil contrasted with wine, 108 

Oliveto, Pius II. describes Monte, 

Olympia, 9 f. ; 271, 372 

Olympian Zeus, capitals of Athenian 
temple of, 252 ; mildness of, in 
Aesculapius, 220 

Olympus of the gods, jj, 20, 26, 28, 
57, 777, 240,371 ; of Thrace and 
Macedonia, 20, 87 , ijj ; of 
Cyprus, an investigation of its 
whereabouts, 324-343 

Omadios, Dionysus surnamed, 101 

Omestes, Dionysus surnamed, 101 

Omnipotence, not chiefly repre 
hended by Greeks in Christian 

ideal, 20 ; Greek gods had local, 

Onomacritus, 125-127, 174 f., 


oiraiov of Eleusinian temple, 797 
Opposites, Demeter a curious ming 
ling of, 73 

Oracles, 34-36, 06, 238, 255 
Oreads, Dionysus and the, 06 
Orestes, Iphigenia s love for, 750 ; 

justified by the principle of Diony 
sus second birth, 169 f. 
Orgies of Dionysus, 34, 154 ; of 

Demeter, 63 
Orientation of temples, facts about 

the, 192 
Origen, read four books of Moera- 

genes on Apollonius, 238, 264 
Oropus, discoveries about Amphi- 

araus at, 232 
Orpheotelestae, the, iSr 
Orpheus, Thracian tradition of, 9, 

IO J> *57> 2 ^2 ; in the Lararium 

of Severus, 263 
Orphic doctrines and myths, 25, 87, 

125, 127, 178, 181 
Ortygia and Asteria, barren legend 

f . 350, 35S 

Ostrogoths at Eleusis, 188 
Otherness, equivalent to reality in 

Thracian conception of Dionysus 

and his world, 90 
Otherworlds of Iliad and Odyssey, 


Ovid, his lowly setting of the stay of 
Demeter with Celeus, 71 

PACTOLUS, Dionysus bade Midas 
wash in floods of, 92, 178 

Paean Apollo, the sun-god, father 
of Aesculapius, 231, 241 f. 

Pagans, it is best to make tolerable 
sense of the affairs of, 19 ; criti 
cism of the solitary Christian 
god by, 20 ; testimony for Apol 
lonius of, 264 f. 

Paganism, 3, 7 ; last days of, 21, 
45, 258, 261, 266 

Palaia, a town between Larnaca and 



Limassol not next to Olympus, 

3 2 5 
Palm tree and laurel of Leto at 

Delos, 356, 363, 380 
Palm tree in bas-relief of Dionysus 

at the house of Icarius, 106 
Pammerope, daughter of Celeus, 63 
Pan, distinguished from Satyr, 99 ; 

personifies cruelty of Dionysus, 99 
Panacea named in doctors oath, 

220 ; attends on Aesculapius, 240 
Panas, Dr., of the Paris faculty, 

Pandarus, ignorance of anatomy 

punished in, 228 
Pandemos, Aphrodite, shrine of, 

near Asclepieium at Athens, 270 ; 

Mylitta represented by, 298 
Pandion, dealings with Thracians of 

king, in ; the fifth king since 

Cecrops is, 705 ; Demeter came 

to Eleusis under king, 7/9 ; Attic 

Dionysus-legends and king, 779 
Panic terrors inspired of Dionysus 

and his Pans, 99 
Pans, or Aegipans, 98-100 
Papticapaeum, men of, at Delos, 


IId0i/a, i], later Aphrodite, repre 
sented by, 321 

Paphian Aphrodite, distinguished 
from the Syrian Goddess on Delos, 
403 , cone of, and Delian Bae- 
tylus, 386 ; Aphrodite at Tegea 
and, 285 

Paphos (new), 283 

(old), 2, 5 ; history of the 

temple and worship of Aphrodite 
at, 2J2, 279, 281 f. , 284 f. , 
289-291, 293, 295-297. 304-308, 
ji 2 f. , 324, 345 f. 

Parian Marble, Susarion and the, 
777 ; Aristotle s Constitution of 
Athens and the, 132 ; fixes the 
date of the first tragedy at Athens, 

I3 2 
Parisian feuilletonist, Philostratus a, 

Parmeniscus at Delos, story of, 382 

Parnassus, description of, 23-25, 
33< 3. f 33 . Dionysus and 
winter festivals on the, 77.2 f. , 
132 f. , 149, 156 f. ; Apollo and 
Dionysus on the, 104 ; Daulis on 
the, 777 

Paros, Archilochus and, 365 ; Delos 
and, 365, 376 

Parsley and ivy, Mystae crowned 
with, .277 

Paspati, Dr., a well-known author, 

Passion, the, 4 ; in the Dionysus- 
legend, 153-157, 181 

Passion- Play of Attica, The Baccha 
nals called, 7J7 

Patara, winter oracles of Apollo at, 


Patriarchy, in the primitive family, 

Patrician worship of Eleusis, Icarian 

Dionysus added to the, 208 
Patroos, Apollo, altar at Delos of, 

379> 3& 2 I tne Cyclacles are 

chosen isles of Apollo, 393 
Paul, St., Simon Magus, Apollonius 

and, 258, 260 
Pausias, paintings of, in the Tholos, 

252 L 
Pauson, compared unfavourably with 

Polygnotus, 252 
Peasant, the Greek, of to-day and 

his taste in wine, 706 ; the 

Cypriote, 335, 341 ; admiration 

for doctors of the Greek, 222 
Pediaeus, the, a Cypriote river Nile, 

275. 35 f 
Pegasus, of Eleutherae, j>./, i2O\ on 

Parnassus, 24 
Pelasgians, Thracians identified 

with, 220 
Peleus, the fire-baptism of Achilles 

and, 64; a pupil of Chiron, 

Peloponnesian \V;ir, Greek religion 

stood intact until time of, 136 ; 

state of Greece after the, ir 
Peninsulas and islands, confusion of, 

in Homer s day, 392 



Pentelicus, home of Dionysus near, 
104 f. 

Pentheus, Dionysus flies to Icarius 
from, 107 ; the frenzy of Zagreus- 
Dionysus and, 139 ; in The Bac 
chanals of Euripides, 145-160 

Pericles, and the temple at Eleusis, 

Persephone, earliest and forbidding 
conception of, 47-49, 128 ; later 
myth of (post-Homeric), 50, 54 
f-, 57-59 > t>9< 75 *" ; general 
religious and moral aspects of the 
divinity of, 48, 69, 73-75, 213 ; 
significance at Eleusis of, 73 f., 
77, 144, 176, 178, 218 ; lacchos 
and, 174 ; Kore, a name of 
(Orphic), 181 ; Adonis plays the 
part of, 297 ; tie between Aescu 
lapius and, 219 f. ; Erigone con 
fused with, 107 ; Zagreus the son 
of, 128 ; monuments and rites 
concerning, 59 f. , 70, 194-196, 

Persia, Democedes led captive to, 

Persian order, the, 12, 17 

Persians, destruction of the Eleu- 
sinian Hall by the, 198 ; inter 
ference with Eleusinian procession 
from Athens by the, 211 

Personification, implications in pri 
mitive mind of, 78 

Pfingstl, killing of the, compared to 
Pentheus death, 759 

Phaedra calls Aphrodite Cypris 
Pontia, 297 

Phaedrus, stage built by, at Athens, 

Phaedryades, rocks at Delphi, 23 

Phaestus, near Cnossus, Epimenides 
of, 124 

Pharsalia, watchword of, 300 ; 
Dante remembered Lucan s, 24 

Phidias, Plutarch would leave super 
vision of Eleusis-buildings to, 191 

Philip, Dionysus and the house of, 

79. J 3$ 
Philip, portico at Delos of, 379 

Philippi, inscription found near, 87 \ 
Dionysus hill near, 92 

Philo, porch of, at Eleusis, 790 f. 

Philonides named CyprusAcamantis, 

Philosophers, Apollonius among the 
illustrious, 263 f. 

Philosophy, mythology and theology 
contrasted with, 32 

Philostratus, Apollonius not the play 
acting personage of, 261 f. , 264 

Phlegyae and Lapithae, Aesculapius 
tribal god of, 221 , 233 

Phlegyas, visit of, to Epidaurus, 243 

Phoebus, 35 f. ; leader in the dance, 

Phoenicians, name of Dionysus from, 
85 ; Dionysus as a child of the 
thigh came with the, 163-165, 
168 ; Moesa, Julia Domna, and 
Ulpian were by descent, 25-9 ; 
Aphrodite a goddess of the, 277, 
286, 323 ; Atargatis on Delos 
worshipped by the, 403 ; Cabiri 
brought by the, 402 ; Delos and 
the, 374 ; Cyprus and the, 279, 
281-284, 319, 321 ; Old Paphos 
of Cyprus and the, 281, 284 f., 
306, 308 ; Hittites confused with 
the, 322 f. ; Selinus and the, 306 

Phrygians, cousins of Thracians, 85, 
90, 103 ; Dionysus and the, 77 , 
90, 95, 103, 140, 164, 178; 
Adonis and the, 291 ; Cinyras and 
the, 294 ; Cybele and the, 97, 
143 ; Rhea of Crete and Cybele 
of the, 143 

Phye, Thracian girl named, 126 

Phyllis betrayed by Demophoon, 65 

Phytalus entertained Demeter at 
Lakkiadae, 217 

Pieria, a centre of Dionysus -wor 
ship, 87, 137, 153 ; spirits of 
waters the nurses of Dionysus in, 
94 ; Icaria an Attic, in 

Pieris, a centre of Dionysus-worship, 
87, 92, 94 

Pindar remoulds story of Tantalus, 
18 ; transcends idea of a resistless 


and unrelenting God, 79 ; 
in nobility of religious thought, 
29 ; solemn aspect of Aphrodite s 
charm seen by, 299 f. ; his ac 
count of Cinyras as Apollo s and 
Aphrodite s friend, 292, 29.;, 
299 f. ; account of Parnassus and 
deluge by, 25 ; birth legend of 
Aesculapius keeps him in Thes- 
saly, 245 f. ; his pious preludes, 
102 ; praises of Delos by, 364 

Pine-tree dedicated to Dionysus, 
rob ; Pentheus, perched in a, 150, 
138 f. 

Pirates carried off Dionysus, 168 

Pirithous or Apollo, in the Olym 
pian pediment, 9 

Piscopia of the Venetian Cornari, 

Pisistratidae, 727 

Pisistratus, Solon s censure and 
acting of, if 6, 126; Dionysus- 
legend and worship developed 
by, 125-132, 137, 175 ; second 
exile of, 126, 137 ; lustration of 
Delos by, 362 ; tillers of the soil 
befriended by, 126 ; Eleusinian 
Hall of, igS f. , 204 

Pissouri, brighter landscape near, 


Pius II. translates Strabo on 
Cyprus, 326 

Planets, Dionysus and the, 133 

Plataea, 77 

Plato, arguments about Gods of, iS 
f . ; on the "Streamers," 779; 
Aphrodite Urania of, 298 ; pro 
test against the poets of, 26 ; 
leader in nobility of religious 
thought, 29 

Pleiades, Alcyone of, 779 

Plothea of Epacria, 105, 779 

Pluto, Dionysus brought the epithet 
to Hades at Eleusis, 174, 777 f. ; 
precinct of, in Eleusinian sanc 
tuary, 103-105 ; of eight Eleu 
sinian divinities, 178 

Pluto, daughter of Oceanus and 
Tethys, 08 

Pluto, or Plutus, 97 

Plutus, nature of his divinity like 
Dionysus , 97 f. 

Plutus, Demeter s son, 97 

Podalirius, son of Aesculapius, in 
fallible in Homer, 230 

Podocathari, fortunes of the family 
of, 331 f. , 336-340 

Podocatharo, Giouanni, his loyalty 
to king lano, 336 \ Hettore, 330- 

333< 33S-34 2 
Cardinal Ludovico, collections 

of, jji 

Pietro, under the re bas- 

tardo," reward of, 336 f. 

Poetic inspiration, 702 

Poet, Plato s prohibition to the, 18; 
Apollo as conceived by the, 25, 
33 ; inconsistency demanded in 
any treatment of Dionysus by the, 
136 ; critics of Greek mythology 
must not offend the, 28 ; Dante 
the poet s, 33 ; Eleusis and the, 
182 ; religion and the, 38, 136 

Poetry, Greek mythology and tilt- 
abstract spirit of, 28 ; Greek re 
ligion is the poetry of, 33 ; Icaria 
influenced the history of, /// ; 
Apollo and Dionysus, the two 
gods of dancing, song, and, 104 

Politics, ancient and modern, 10, 

Pollux, a pupil of Chiron, 2j2 

Polycletus, the elder and the 
younger, 246 f. ; the Tholos of, 
at Epidaurus, 250-254 ; theatre 
built by, at Epidaurus, 276 

Polycrates, called Democedes, from 
Athens, 22^ ; gave Rhenea to 
Apollo, 361 f. , 376 

Polygnotus, Pauson, compared un 
favourably with, 252 

Polyphemus, clever wounding of, 

Polytheism, 3, 70, 20 

Polyxenus, a son of Celeus, 63 

Pomegranate-seed, in myth of Per 
sephone, 58 

\\ovr apxn^ // 

2 G 



Pontia, Cypris, Phaedra s name for 
Aphrodite, 207 

Porch, used for stoa or porticus, 
2j6, 248, 310 

Porches, for the sick in Aesculapian 
sanctuaries, 247 f. ; need of, at 
Paphos, jio 

Portulani, in the Marcian library, 
and the Museo Correr, j2q 

Poseidon, Delos and Delphi be 
longed tO, J2, 37 f. , JjS 

father of Aithousa, the mother 
of Eleuther, ng 
and Apollo walled Troy, 

37 2 

father of Persephone, 48 

Possession, by Dionysus, o, no, 
133 ; the whole play of The Bac 
chanals a case of, ij6 

Prayer to Dionysus, 133 

Prayers, endowment of, at Delos, 
j8o ; to Aesculapius, Apollo 
named first in, 220 

Preceptorery, older name for com- 
mandery, 288 

Prehistoric man in Greek art, 173 ; 
tribe changes, and second birth 
of Dionysus, 163 (see Primitive) 

Prescriptions of Aesculapius given 
in dreams, 2jj 

Priests, of Aesculapius, 2jo, 234 f. , 
241 ; cleverness of Delphian, 30 ; 
Delphian, sanctioned brotherhood 
of Apollo and Dionysus, 31 ; of 
old Paphos descend from Cinyras, 

Primitive belief, in personification, 
78 ; custom, survives in tragic 
masks, 172 ; Dionysus, confusion 
about, oo ; family, 160-171 ; man, 
12 ; medicine, Chiron and, 232 ; 
worship, 106, 13?, 105, 203 

Probation, Dionysus before he came 
to Athens underwent a triple, 

Procession to Eleusis, many local 
customs connected with, 218 ; of 
the Mystae from Aristophanes 
Frogs, 212-216 

Processional ways at Athens, Delos, 

and Eleusis, 103, jyg 
Proclus, an Athenian friend of Aes 
culapius, 256 

Prophecy, coupled with wine, 03 
Prophet, divine, Dionysus a, 78 
Prophets of Dionysus, the Baccha 
nals are, ij6 f. 
Propitiation of Dionysus, 134 

of Eleusinian gods, desire for, 

at Athens in 405 B.C., 215 f. 
Propylaea, Athenian, 307 ; Eleusin 
ian, 186 
Proserpina, rape of, localised in 

Sicily, 62 (see Persephone) 
Provindemiator, star in the Icarian 

legend, in 
Prudentilla, the heiress, wife of 

Apuleius, 262 
Prussia, East and West, 6 
Psophis, Phoenician foundations at, 

285 i. t 323 
Ptolemy, Cos and, likened to Apollo 

and Delos, 304 ; Theocritus 

praises, 318 

(the geographer), place of 

Cypriote Olympus according to, 


Public doctors and ancient hospitals, 

Punch and Judy show, Greek 
counterpart of, go 

Purification, days of, at Athens before 
the Eleusinia, 209 f. ; at Delos, 
jjj ; Milton s lines upon, 360 

Purifying powers of Dionysus, 133 

Purity, requirement of, by Aescu 
lapius, 23 j, 2jj ; ideal of Apollo 
and Delos, jjj, 360-363, 370 

Pygmalion and Cinyras, kinship of, 
204 ; sculpture invented by, 

Pyrasus of Demeter, 47, 221 

Pythagoras and the Pythagoreans, 
72, 21 Si., 223, 257, 382 

Pythian monster slain, j>j ; Apollo s 
expiation for slaying the, 371 ; 
sent by Hera against Leto, 358 

Pythoness, description of the, 36 


QUAKER-MEETING, and first tragic 
actor of Thespis, 7/7 

Quintilian, Tacitus, and Pliny, rever 
ence for the imperial idea felt by, 
4 ri. 

Quiver, votive gift at Delos of a 
leaden, 384 

RANSOM of Christians from Turkish 

captivity, jjjf., 339 
Rapendosa, the valley of, at Icaria, 

705, 109, 114 
Rarian plain, the, 55 f., 66, 187, 

Reality of Thracian Dionysus-world, 


Reason, inapplicable to the gods, 
146 ; difficulties of, in Dionysus- 
legend, 148 

Religion, primitive, relation to Greek 
myths of, 27 ; Cyprus a meeting- 
ground of many a, 27 7 

(Greek) relentlessness of early 

phases of, 35 ; is the poetry of 
poetry, jj ; was unshaken until 
the Peloponnesian war, 136 ; 
Athenian innovations in, 729 f. ; 
harmony of Greek medicine and, 
226, 230 

Resurrection, and the offering of a 
cock to Aesculapius, 239 

Retzinato, Dionysus overcome by, 

Revels, the night-long, of Dionysus, 

Rhea, Demeter s mother, jo, 57 ; of 
the eight Eleusinian divinities, 
/7<?, 401 ; a Cretan Cybele, 143 

Rhenea, Delos and, 360-362, 376, 

Rhodes, Telchines of, 97 ; Colossus 

of, 287 f. ; neither of Cyclades 

nor of Sporades, 303 
Ribaldry of Eleusinia, connected 

with lacchos-worship, 214 
Right living, Pythagorean rules of, 

72 ; Demeter s rules of, 71 f. 
Roman Brumalia and Rosalia, 86- 

8S (see Rosalia) 

Roman Church, 15, 21 

hall at Eleusis, 20 f, 203 

- Aesculapia, distinction be 
tween Greek and, 221, 254 

Romanticists compared with classi 
cists, /jo 

Rome, 3, j, 7 f. , 10, 13 ; and 
Augustus, worship of, 40, 45 ; 
temples to the emperor discouraged 
at, 38 ; Cyprus under, 278 

Rosalia, Roman and Thracian festi 
val of, 86-88 ; centres of, in 
Macedonia and Thrace, 87 ; sur 
vival of, 87-90 ; and Brumalia 
compared with Icarian festivals, 

Rose-gardens of Midas in Thrace, 

Rosettes, history of, as ornaments, 25-7 

Rotunda (Tholos) of Polycletus at 
Epidaurus, 246 f. , 250-254 

Rustica work at Old Paphos, 308 

SABAE, of Thrace and Phrygia, 06 
Sabazius, a name for the primitive 

Dionysus, 86 ; and the Sabae, 

06 ; Thracian and Phrygian idea 

of, 77, 103 
Sacred lake, the, in the Delian 

legend of Leto, 356 
Sacred and secular medicine, dis 

tinction between, 232, 237 
Sahara, mountains of Cyprus and of 

the, 276 
Sailors, votive inscription to Apollo 

of, 384 
Saints, lives of Christian, and late 

Pagan myths, 21, 265 
Saisara, daughter of Celeus (Pam- 

phos), 6j 
Salamis, 12 ; Mount Acamas on, 

187,344; Blaeuw s description of, 

346 f. ; Cychreus and, 64, j./t 

f. ; Bocarus, a river on, 324, 

j/./; of Cyprus, 283, J.//-J-/6. 

Samos, not of Cyclades or Sporades, 
303 ; Democedes called by Poly- 
crates to, 224 ; sack of, by IVrs- 



ians, 224 ; Prince Carathe odori 
of, 268 

Samosata, Lucian of, a Voltaire, 262 
Sanctuaries, Greek, 2 f. , j", 7 ; Chris 
tian, 2, 4 i. ; Aphrodite at all 
Greek, 271 
Sappho, invocation of, to Aphrodite, 

Sardanapalus (Assurbanipal), poem 

on Ishtar found in palace of, joo 
Sarmatians, the, overran Thrace and 

Illyria, 87 

Sathalia, tempestuous gulf of, 275 
Satrachus and Bocarus, 345 f. 
Satrae, the indomitable, 84 
Satyr -friend of mystic maids, 88 

(see Maenads) 
Satyr- play, the Icarian, 132 
Satyrs, half beasts and half men, 78 
and Sileni, companions of 

Dionysus, 94, 99, 106, 128 
Saviour-god, Dionysus the, 134 
Savoy, Democedes career paralleled 

at the court of, 224 
Science has its place in nature of 

Chiron, 232 
compatible with superstition in 

worship of Aesculapius, 234 
and religion, harmony of, in 

Greek medicine, 226, 238 
debt to Homeric fighting of, 


Sculpture, skill of Pygmalion in, 294 
Scythian superstition, Hippocrates 

on a gross, 238 
Sea, the sound of, in forests, 6 ; part 

in Greek worship played by, 210 ; 

power of, to purify, 210 ; Diony 
sus leaps into, 77 
Seasons attend Dionysus, 78, 96 
Secular and sacred medicine, dis 
tinction between, 232, 237 
Seefeld, library of, looted by Charles 

X. of Sweden, 350 
o"/7/cos, 6 /j.vffTiK6s, fSg 
Selinus, pierced stones at, and 

piercings at Old Paphos, 306 
Semachidae, Dionysus - legend of, 

105, 119 

Semachus, legend of Dionysus 

coming to visit, 105, 119 
Semele, Theban place of death of, 

140 ; Dionysus and, 140-142, 

163, 7-77, 181 ; Pentheus and, 

148, 154 ; Dione and, 318 
Semitic, Aphrodite s decisive traits 

are, 272 f. , 280 

Senate decrees honours to Julius 
Caesar, 37, 40 
Serapis, 3 ; priests of Aesculapius 

and, 254 ; Delian Apollo and, 


Seriphos on the way to Delos, 376 
Serpent impostures of Alexander of 

Abonotichus, 254 ; Zeus in form 

of, 181 
Serpents, part played by, in miracles 

of Aesculapius, 235, 253 f. 
Sestrachus or Satrachus, a river at 

Old Paphos, 346 
Severus, Alexander, Julia Domna s 

great-nephew, 265 
Sheep-folds are often in Cypriote 

caves, 289 
Sicilian life, Aphrodite at centres of, 


Sicily, Greeks in, worshipped De- 
meter, 51 ; myth of Proserpina 

localised in, 62 
Sicyon, connection of, with tragedy 

overstated, 115 
Sidon, Cadmus of, and Pentheus, 

147 ; Aphrodite Ashtaroth at, 

303 ; Cadmus of, brings eastern 

tinge into Theban Dionysus 

story, 164 ; sent gifts to Delian 

Apollo, 387 ; early intercourse of, 

with Cyprus, 281 
Sight, use of terms of, to describe 

the Mysteries, 209 
Silence, at Eleusis, 180 - 182 ; 

Pausanias warned to keep, about 

Eleusinia, 218 
Sileni, innumerable, and Satyrs the 

mates of Dionysus, 94, 97 
Silenus, old, the type of things that 

flow, 78, 93-93> 9 8 
Silvius, Aeneas, 326 f. 



Simon Magus, Apollonius ami Paul 

from the same quarter, 260 
Sisyphus, shadowy punishment of, 


Slave-market, Delos a, 375, 401 
Snow, revellers above Delphi blocked 

by, nj 

Socrates, loftier teachings of, in The 
Bacchanals, 138 ; meaning of his 
dying words, 239 ; might not die 
while Athens was consecrate to 
Delian Apollo, 362 
Solomon s temple and the Paphian 

ruin, 306, 313 f. 

Solon and Epimenides, 122 f., 175 
and the tragedy of Thespis, 
116, 123, 126 
Son of God, Aesculapius described 

as the, 240 

Song and dance in Dionysus-wor 
ship, 102-104 

Sophism, the, of Sophocles, 166 f. ; 
the, of Tiresias in The Baccha 
nals, 149 

Sophocles, the Tiresias of, 145, 

Dionysus the tutelary god 

of, 81 

sophism of, 166 f. ; Icarian 
notion of Dionysus simpler 
than his, in 

Sorcery, Apuleius in his own de 
fence on the charge of, 262 
Soroe, Meursius at, 348 f. 
Sosandra Aphrodite at Athens, 

271, 208, 300 
Sotera, Athene, and Pisistratus, 

Soudan, Nysa in the Troglodytic 

country beyond the, 165 
Soumali-country, is the country of 

the cinnamon, 165 
Sparta, interference at Eleusis under 

Cleomenes, 216 
Spenser, anatomy of, compared 

with Homer s, 228 
Sphekia, a name of Cyprus, j./j f. 
Sphettus, prayer of Diophantus of 
Sphettus, 241 

Spintharus, of Corinth, built Ivl- 
phian temple, 31 

Sporades, the, 30 1 -398 

Spring, celebration of, return of 
Dionysus in, 112 f. ; gibes in 
celebration of, 213 

Stadion at the Apollonia and Delia, 

Stage, Athenian, built by Nero and 
by Phaedrus, //./ 

Stars, fawn - skins symbolise the 
heaven flecked with, 140 

Statius, linked Icaria and Eleusis, 
707 ; tells of Erigone s wander 
ings, TI4 

Stavrovuni, Mount, Santa Croce, or 
Delia Croce, 325 

Stockholm, MSS. of Meursius used 
by Graevius, j>j/ 

Stoicism, a refuge, 41 

Stoics, practically believed in many 
gods, 20 

Strabo, antiquity of Meineke s mis- 
punctuation of, xiv. p. 683, 325- 


Strymon, of Orphic fame, and 
1 ieris, 87 ; Pisistratus in exile 
near the, 13 j 

Styx, mother of Persephone, 79 

Sublime, in Euripides, Gothe on the, 

Suicide, epidemic - mania for, of 
Icarian maidens, no ; epidemics 
of, in modern times, no 

Sultan, Colossi, appropriated by the, 

Sun-god, the source of knowledge of 
miraculous drugs is the, 231 

Sunium, on way to Delos from 
Athens, 376 

Surgeon, Democedes qualified at 
Croton as a, 225 

Surgery, Homeric skill in, came 
down to professional doctors, 
224 ; necessity of warfare tin- 
mother of invention of, 226 ; at 
Epidaurus, 237 ; knowing- of. 
upon which Hippocrates dn-w. 
223 ; sprang from positive practi- 

2 G 2 



cal tendency in early medicine, 
2JS, 237 

Surgical operations inspired by 
Aesculapius, 226, 237 

Susarion, comedy, his great in 
vention, ii 4 f. , 7/7 

Suttee, Thracian, custom analogous 
to, 84 

Swans, song of, at Apollo s birth, 


Sybaris, inscription from a tomb at, 

Syra has one part of ancient Delian 

glory, j><?9 

Aphrodite drifted to Paphos 

from, 296 

Syrian traits in Aphrodite, 297 
goddess, worship on Delos, 

of the, 403 
Syriote peasant dances in carnival, 


Syros and Delos, 365, 376 
Syrtos, the modern peasant -dance 

called the, 400 

TABLE mountains, of Cyprus and 

the Sahara, 276 
Taboos, account of, in the Golden 

Bough, 360 
Tacitus, reverence of, for the imperial 

idea, 41 f. 
Tammuz- Adonis, plays part of 

Dionysus and Persephone, 291 ; 

lament for, 300 f. ; temple at 

Amathus of, 292 
Tantalus, Pindar remoulds the storv 

of, r8 ; punishment of, 76 
Tar in Cypriote wine, 288 
Tarsus, Apollonius removed from 

Aegae to, 257 
Taurus mountains of Asia Minor, 

northern range of Cyprus parallel 

to, 258, 275 
Taxes, the, levied to-day in Cyprus, 

Tegea, temple of Paphian goddess 

at, 28s f - 

Telamon, a pupil of Chiron, 232 
Telchines, 97 

Telesphorus (Convalescence) attends 

on Aesculapius, 240 
Telesterion, Hall of Initiation at 

Eleusis, iSg 
Tellus the Athenian, death and 

burial of, at Eleusis, 122 
Tempests, stilled by a nail of the 

True Cross, 275 
Templars, Knights, in Cyprus, 288, 


Tenedos, 101 
Teniote festivals and modern shrine, 

375, 389 

Ten os, Aeolus housed on, 380 ; of 
Poseidon, 358 ; Delos and, j6j, 


Tetrapolis, Marathonian, worship of 
Apollo from, 104 

Theatres, Aesculapian shrines built 
near, 247 

Theban Maenads, ministers of earth 
quake, i4S 

legend of Dionysus and Eastern 
stories, 164 

Thebes to be decked as a Maenad, 
142 ; the mother of Bacchanals, 
133 ; Dionysus-driven women of, in 
The Bacchanals, 139 ; Dionysus 
connection with, 76, 139, 141, 144 

Thelpusa, Demeter legend of, 176 

Themistocles, // 

Theocracy of Roman Empire, 8, 26 

Theologians, Homer and Hesiod the 
first of Greece, 26 

Theology, mythology and philo 
sophy contrasted with, 20, 52 

Theoris, the Delian boat of Athens, 

376 f. 

Theory sent by Deliastae from 

Athens, 376 

Thera and the Cyclades, 397 
Theseum and temple of Delian 

Apollo, 387 
Theseus, Demophoon the son of, 

6j ; the altar of Zeus and, 217 ; 

Chiron s pupil, 232 ; Theoris and, 

377 ; Ariadne at Delos and, 382 ; 
Athenian and Delian legends of, 



I hcsinoi of Deineter, 51 
Thesmophoria, the, 51 , 6S 
Thesmos, the self-imposed, of 

Apollo, 370 f. 
Thespis, 115-117, 126, ij2, 137, 

f 39 

Thcssaly, myth of Persephone wan 
dering from, J9 ; Demeter from, 
194, 221 ; Aesculapian legends of, 

22 f, 234, 2.fS f- 

Thetis, her attempted fire-baptism of 
Achilles, 64 ; proteeted the fleeing 
Dionysus, 77 

Thiasos, 100 ; blessings of belonging 
to, 141 

Thief, discovery of the cross of the 
penitent, 275 

Thigh-mountain, second birth of 
Dionysus and, 165 

Tholos, the, of Polycletus at Epi- 
daurus, 250-254 

Thornton, Dr., competed for build 
ing the Capitol, 267 

Thrace, Dionysus from, 77, 86, 90, 
103, 119, 121, 174, 189, 218 ; 
Dionysus in, 85 f. , 88, go, 92-04, 
06, 174 ; Phrygia included in the 
larger, 84, oo ; chronic disturb 
ances of, <$j ; Valerius found three 
silver statues and strange rites in, 
87 ; Eumolpus from, 174, 218 ; 
Pisistratus exiled to, 126, 137 ; 
Zerynthian Aphrodite in, 345 f. 

Thracian elements in the legend 
and worship of Dionysus, So, 82- 

85, 94, 96 f., / 00-104, 106, 135, 
138, 162, 177 ; Brumalia and 
Rosalia, 86-88 ; oracle on Mt. 
Zilmissus, 93 ; places of assembly, 
94 ; history in early days, So, 

III f. , 221 

Thracians, history of the, So, 84, 

86, 103, Iff, 220 f., 280, 322 ; 

character of the, 84-90 ; religion 
of the, So f., 83-87, oo, os, 103, 
106, 322 ; the Delian Hyperbor 
eans were, 379 
Thraco-Eleusinian, Eumolpus the, 


Thraco - Phrygian features in all 
Dionysus-legends from the East, 

Thrasymedes, statue of Aesculapius 
by, 249 

Thriasian plain, 55 f. , 187 

Thucydides, unknown sense of the 
term Cyclades \n, 392,394 ; semi- 
Thracian parentage of, 84 

Thyades, with Dionysus on Delphian 
pediment, 31, 133 ; Thyone- 
Semele and Dione, 318 

Thyone-Semele and Dione, 318 

Tiber, temple of Aesculapius on the 
island in, 2.// 

Tiberius, 42 f. 

Tintoretto painted Naxia-acropolis, 

Tiresias, 145-148, 166 f. 

Titans, Zagreus and the, 128, 131, 

Tithorea, peak of Parnassus, 25 

Titian, a masterpiece of, 289 

Titthion, Aesculapius exposed on 
mount, 243, 245 f. 

Tityi, 94 

Tmolus, Dionysus born on, 154 

Tolerance, Apollo s sense of, 8, 29, 33 

Tragedy, Icarian legends and, ///, 
115-117 ; rise of Athenian, 132, 
134-136, 159, 172; Dionysus and, 

Tree-worship, 78, 82 f., 106 f., no, 
143, 159, 164 

Triaconter, the Theoris a, ^77 

Tricca, Inscriptions at, 237 

Trinity, mystery of, compared with 
Eleusinian mystery, 178 

Triopian promontory, Cnidian sanct 
uary on, 70 

Tripod, 371 ; a symbol of unison of 
Apollo and Dionysus, 35 f. 

Tripoli, the country of, in the sack 
of Nicosia, 332 

Triptolemus, a son of Celeus, 63 ; a 
son of Icarius, 707 ; Icarius and, 
707 ; an EU-usiniun demigod, 6j 
f. ; suppression of, in Eleusinian 
legend, 64-66, 175, 194 , Rarian 



plain and, 66, 71, 201 ; Demeter s 
representative, 67, 124, 206 ; one 
of the gods at Eleusis, 178 f. 

Troezen, meaning of Bocarus in 
dialect of, 344 

Troglodytic country, Nysa in the, 


Trohodos, used by the villani for 
Olympus, 341 

Troodos, 276, 324 ; tradition iden 
tifying Olympus with, 327-343 
Strabo s epithet for Olympus 
exactly suits, 323 

Trophonius, Parmeniscus and the 
oracle of, 382 

Trullo, council of, order against the 
Rosalia at the, 89 

Truthfulness of Apollo conspicuous 
at Delphi, 370 

Trygaeus, had to be initiated before 
he died, 181 

TVfjij3opvxos, epithet of Aphrodite, 310 

Turk, mimic fight of, with a Chris 
tian, 90 

Turkish bondholders and modern 
Cyprus, 278 

Turks besiege and sack Nicosia, 
332-334 ; Brenzone s hatred of, 
332 ; ransoms of Christians from, 
jjj f. , 339 ; their laws and taxes 
in Cyprus, 277 ; population of, 
in modern Cyprus, 272 ; special 
causes for prominence of Greek 
doctors under the, 267 

Tyana, saved from destruction by 
Apollonius, 265 

Tyre, Aphrodite-Ashtaroth at, 303 

Tyre and Sidon, early intercourse 
of, with Cyprus, 281 ; sent gifts 
to Delos, 381 

uXdrr;?, epithet of Apollo at Curium, 

345 * 

Ulpian, of Phoenician descent and 
of Julia Domna s clique, 259 

Ulrichs, Professor, votive inscription 
found at Delos by, 384 

Unction (extreme), initiation into 
the Mysteries compared to, 181 

Unity, of Demeter and Persephone 
is unity of growth at large, 74 ; 
of god -doctrine of Xenophanes 
and of the Mysteries, 180 

Urania, transformation in meaning 
of epithet, 297 f. 

Urugal, Ishtar s descent to, 301 

VALERIUS, in Thrace, 87 
Varoschia, Salamis-Famagosta and, 


Vegetation, Dionysus god of abun 
dant, 78 

Venetian rule in Cyprus, 278, 289 
Venetians and marriage of doge 

with the sea, 131 
Venice and Greeks, religions of, 

131, 135, 328, 389 
Venus, 87, 300, 304 
Vespasian, reported miracle of, 41 f. ; 

the greatest latter-day guide, 42 
Viaticum, 181 
Victory, statues of, on Epidaurian 

temple, 249 
Vilaras of Janina, a poet and a 

doctor, 268 

Vindemiator, Bootes-Icarius as, in 
Vine, the he-goat and the, 108 ; 

cultivation of the, and Dionysus, 

Vintage, autumn Dionysus festivals 

of the, 129 f. 
Virgil, Messianic vision of, 138 ; 

supposed bust of, 193 ; the mother 

Venus of his song, 304 
Virgin Mary, the, 4, 71 
Virgo, bright star e near wrist of, is 

frovindemiator, in ; Erigone 

and the, no 
Volcanic origin of Delos, jjg 

WARFARE in Homer, debt of 
modern science to, 228 f. 

Water, given with barley to Deme 
ter, 68 ; wine tempered with, at 
Eleutherae, 34, 120 ; in Hera- 
clitus doctrine and Dionysus - 
worship, 179 f. ; in legend and 
worship of Dionysus and his 



creatures, 78, 94 f. , 102 f., 108, 

f37 5 6 > J J9 

\\ ine, regarded as an element, 97 
f. , 103 ; first culture of, /6jr ; 
Phoenician trade in, and Diony 
sus, j6j ; brought by Dionysus 
to Icaria, 78, 107-109, 152 f. ; 
power over the dead of, 97 ; pro 
phetic power of, oj ; represents 
the power of Dionysus, 97 ; 
Eleutherae and the use of, 34, 
1 20 ; power over poets of, 102 ; 
the story of Midas and the, oj ; 
Cypriote, 288 ; Pramnian given 
by Maron, 97 

Winged Dionysus, the, 779 

Winter, death of Dionysus, grief 
of Demeter in, iSj ; Icarian 
observances in, 112 f. ; other 
Dionysiac festivals in, 132, 156 

Winter-oracles of Apollo at Patara, 


Wodin, 6 
Wood, Pentheus, like a king of the, 

XANTHIAS and Dionysus, witness 

the march of the Mystae, 212 
Xenagoras, named Cyprus Cerastis, 

Aspelia, and Amathusia, 274 
Xenocles of Cholargia, builder of 

Eleusinian oiralov, 797 
Xenophanes, Demeter stands for the 

idea of divinity of, 779 f. 
Xenophon nearly contemporary 

with Hippocrates, 225 ; military 

medicine and, 225 ; Philostratus 

imitated passages from, 259 
Xerxes, Onomacritus and Pisistra- 

tidae at the court of, 127 
6ava, attributed to Daedalus, J99 
Xypeta, Metagenes of, at Eleusis, 


ZAGREUS, the myth of, jo, 127 f. ; 
at the Anthesteria, 7j7 ; the 
mystical Sal/uaov of Eleusis and, 
77^ ; the doctrine of immortality 
and, 181 ; the pitiless huntsman, 

Zamacola, on the couvade, 770 

Zamolxis, a name for the primitive 
Dionysus, 86 

Zerynthian, epithet of Aphrodite 
from Thrace, j/j f. 

Zeus, character of, 12-14, 2 > 2 #> 
2f<? f., 2j6, 264, 277, j6g ; 
monuments connected with the 
worship of, 9 f. , 14-17, 277, 252, 
402 ; Aphrodite-legend and, 277 
f. , 284, J7J f. ; Asterinand, 358; 
Aesculapius and, 2fo, 239 ; 
Demeter-legend and, 48, jo, 36 
f. ; Delphi and the eagles of, 31 ; 
Dionysus legend and, 22, 142 f. , 
163 , Zagreus-Dionysus and, 128 

Zilmissus, oracle on Mount, oj 

Zoroaster and Apollonius as magi 
cians, 262 

Zoster, birth-legend of Apollo and 
Artemis transferred to, 399 


Printed by R. & R. CI.ARK, 




Being a Translation of a portion of the " Attica " of Pausanias. P.y 
MARGARET DE G. VKRKALL. With Introductory Kssay and 
Archaeological Commentary by JANE E. HARRISON, Author of 
" Myths of the Odyssey," " Introductory Studies in Greek Art." 
*** A translation, by Mrs. Verrall, of the account of Athens and Attira in 
Pausanias description of Greece. In a certain sense Miss Harrison supplies a Com 
mentary on Pausanias ; but her primary object is to elucidate the mythology of 
Athens, and with this intent she has examined the monuments, taking Pausanias as 
her guide. It is hoped that the book will be found useful by students at home as 
well as by those who have opportunities of seeing the monuments for themselves. 

OBSERVER. 11 Miss Harrison is an indefatigable worker, and her volume is a 
monument of laborious and wary investigation. It really Consists of two distiiH t 
portions, though united by a common object, namely, the elucidation of the mythology 
of Athens. One of these divisions may be briefly characterised as a comparison of 
the city of the violet crown as it now is, with the city as described in Pausani.i-. 
... To the scholar who visits, or has visited, or is about to visit Athens, tins part of 
her work is specially delightful ; but her essay on Athenian local cults is perhaps her 
most valuable contribution to the general science of Mythology." 

SPECTA TOR. "A delightful commentary dealing with all the main points of 
Athenian topography, and explaining with admirable clearness the results of the 
Excavations made, and still being made, by the Greek Government. . . . There is 
no English book which can be compared with the present as summarising the latest 
facts and views of Athenian Archaeology." 

CAMBRIDGE REVIEW. " In every way satisfactory^ the style clear and 
concise ; the wording accurately representing the original text." 

ACADEMY. "Throughout the volume there is abundant evidence of care ami 
skill, as well as of wide reading. Miss Harrison has secured much valuable help, 
and has duly acknowledged it. She knows her subject thoroughly, and also knows 
how to place it before the reader clearly and well." 

SPEAKER. " Every page is well worth careful study. It puts for the first time 

within reach of English readers the Classical Guide, improved, corrected, and illus 
trated by a flood of modern excavation and research." 

CLASSICAL REVIEW, November." For some time to come this book will 
be indispensable to every English-speaking student of Athenian Antiquities." 


MYCENsE, ORCHOMENOS, ITHACA, presented in the light 
of recent knowledge. By Dr. CARL SHUCHHARDT. Authorised 
Translation by Miss EUGENIE SELLERS. With Appendix on latest 
Researches by Drs. SCHLIEMANN and DoRPFELU, and Introduction 
by WALTER LEAF, Litt. D. Illustrated with Two Portraits, Maps, 
Plans, and 290 Woodcuts. 

* * A popular but strictly accurate account of the whole series of Dr. Schlier 
Excavations and their results. It is believed that the book will be of great value and 
interest even to those who already possess Dr. Schliemann s larger works, not 
bringing them up to date, but also in showing the connecting links 1 


Plates of Illustrations. 3 os.-Vol. II. 3 os. With Plates of 
Illustrations. Or in 2 Parts, i 5 s. each.-Vol. Ill 2 I 
With Plates of Illustrations. 155. each. Vol. IV. 2 Parts With 
Plates. Part I. 155. Part II. 2is. Or complete, 3 os.\ ol. \ . 
With Plates. 3 os.-Vol. VI. With Plates. Parti. 155. Pjjt 
II. i 5 s. Or complete, 3 os. Vol. VII. Parti. i 5 s. 


153. Or complete, 305. Vol. VIII. Parti. 155. Part II. 155. 

Vol. IX. 2 Parts. 155. each. Vol. X. 305. Vol. XI. Part 

I. 153. Net. 

*** The Journal will be sold at a reduced price to Libraries wishing to subscribe, 
but official application must in each case be made to the Council. Information on 
this point, and upon the conditions of Membership, may be obtained on application 
to the Hon. Sec., Mr. George Macmillan, 29 Bedford Street, Covent Garden. 



M.A. IQS. 6d. 

THE RHETORIC. By the same. 7 s. 6d. 
THE ETHICS. . By the same. [In preparation. 

CICERO SELECT LETTERS. Translated from Watson s 

Edition. By Rev. G. E. Jeans, M.A. IDS. 6d. 
ACADEMICS. Translated by J. S. REID, M.L. ss. 6d. 

HOMER ODYSSEY. By Professor S. H. BUTCHER, M.A., and 

A. LANG, M.A. 6s. 


HORACE. By J. LONSDALE, M.A., and S. LEE, M.A. 35. 6d. 

1 8s. 


LIVY. BOOKS XXI.-XXV. By Rev. A. J. CHURCH, M.A., and 

W. J. BRODRIBB, M.A. 7 s. 6d. 

HAVELL, B.A. With Introduction by ANDREW LANG. Crown 8vo. 43. 6d. 

HEADLAM. Fcap. 410. 75. 6d. 
PINDAR ODES. By ERNEST MYERS, M.A. Second Edition. 5s. 


VAUGHAN, M.A. 45. 6d. 

45. 6d. 


2 VOls. 24S. 


B.A. 6s. The Catiline, 35. 


History, 6s. Annals, 75. 6d. Agricola and Germania. 45. 6d. 


4 s. 6d. 

VIRGIL. By J. LONSDALE, M.A., and S. LEE, M.A. 35. 6d. 

THE ^ENEID. By J. W. MACKAIL, M.A. 7 s. 6d. 


With Introduction and Essays. 4 vols. Vol. I., containing "The Anabasis" 
and "The Hellenica." xos. 6d. 

[Vol. II. in the Press. 



>ECT - JUl ? 01980 



Dyer, Louis 

Studies of the Gods 
in Greece.