he quotes. This is a feature of criticism not to be despised. He is a naturalist, looking off his lecture to point to the real specimens in glass cases. People are mistaken in supposing that Greek cities had no inns. In early times-the heroic ages-private hospitality entertained the wayfarer; but, as intercourse increased, and strangers crowded to Athens and Corinth, ampler accommodation was required. The great festivals were the race-weeks of our county towns. We learn from a speech of Eschines, that the Athenian ambassadors to Philip took up their abode at an hotel; just as the Papal Nuncio might have his apartments at Mivart's. We are reminded of the antiquity of all novelties, in the rage for autographs among Greek collectors. The bibliomaniac of Lucian pleased himself with thinking that he possessed the harangues of Demosthenes, and the history of Thucydides, in the handwriting of the respective authors. Thus the Roxburgh Club had its type in a departed race; and Will Wimble reappears in Athens, with the same accumulating taste that excited the mirth of Sir Roger de Coverley. The shop and the counter have undergone slight changes. At Pompeii is, or was not long ago, the outline of a head with a pen stuck behind the ear, as you may see it every day in London. The Greek banker was a person of importance, and conducted his business on the most approved principle. He allowed a nominal interest on deposits which he lent at a larger rate,-sometimes so high as thirty-six per cent. The circular note of Coutts had its original in the symbolon, or mark, that authenticated the letter of credit. The cheque was unknown; but the leathern token of Carthage promised the future food of speculation and commerce: Blest paper credit! last and best supply, IN-DOOR LIFE AT ATHENS. 147 In-door life was extremely curious. An Oxford fellow, arriving on a short visit to Alcibiades, would have been surprised at his bed-room. The four-post sinks into contempt. The Athenian bedstead was sometimes made of precious wood, with ivory feet. The mattrass was stuffed with wool, and covered with linen or leathern sheets. The white pillow-case was not yet; but the coverlets were splendid-sometimes composed of variegated feathers, perhaps like the Mexican cloaks. The table was usually round, veneered with maple, and supported by feet of bronze. An elegant tripod contained the fire which heated the chamber in cold weather. But the dinner-hour would have drawn forth all the wonder of the visitor. In the most fashionable establishment there was no table-cloth. A towel was handed round at the conclusion of the repast, but crumb of bread fulfilled the duty of the serviette. A particular kind of dough was set apart for the purpose. The custom, oddly enough, seems to correspond with one in Abyssinia, minutely recorded by Bruce, and confirmed by later travellers. In the absence of knives and forks, spoons of gold were distributed among the guests. The bread was handed in small baskets, woven of slips of ivory. The wine was cooled by lumps of snow, and the first toast was, To the Good Genius! Becker vindicates the medical profession in Greece from the ridicule which has often been cast on it. The Romans, prejudiced against physicians, contented themselves with the healing wisdom of a domestic slave; or, like Cato, entrusted their health to the guardianship of a Latin Buchan. The Athenian, more nervous, was always calling in the Doctor. A sort of diploma, in the form of a permission from the State, together with a certificate of attendance on medical lectures, was necessary to admit a candidate into practice. There were also physicians paid by the Government, and answering in some measure to our hospital or dispensary doctors. The Athenian physician was the general practitioner of modern times, and compounded his own medicines. Some patients came to the surgery; others he attended at their own homes. His manners and speech appear to have been sufficiently rough and unflattering. The saying of a consulting-surgeon in remote years-"Patroclus is dead, who was a much better man than you"-reads like an anticipatory reminiscence of Mr. Abernethy. But medical science was of the lowest order. It is a question whether dissection was permitted. Becker alludes to a passage in Plutarch, describing an operation upon the larynx of a man who had swallowed a fish-bone; and he notices the opening of the body of Aristomenes by the Lacedæmonians, "to see whether it contained anything extraordinary." The late John Bell admitted that Hippocrates dissected apes. Haydon's first lecture on painting may be consulted for the anatomical knowledge of Greek artists. He appeals to Burke, who said—“The author of Laocoon was as deeply skilled as Halle or Gaubius, and hence has been able to give that consistency of expression which prevails through the whole body, from the face, through every muscle, to the ends of the toes and fingers." It is remarkable that Hippocrates speaks of acquaintance with the physical constitution of man, as belonging less to the art of medicine than of design. Winckleman thought that ancient painters studied the forms of animals with reference to the human figure; and he discovered in the heads of Jupiter and Hercules the characteristics of the lion and bull. Mr. Eastlake sees in the study of comparative anatomy the "knowledge which would best enable them to define, and, therefore, to exaggerate, when necessary, the human characteristics." It should, however, be remembered, that Sir Charles Bell, who bestowed much thought ANCIENT HISTORY NOT ADAPTED TO FICTION. 149 on the anatomy and philosophy of expression, dissented from this view. But I must not prolong my stay in old Athens, although these glimpses of life, two or three thousand years old, cannot fail to be entertaining. After all, Cheapside is only a Greek street under another name. Even the toyshop was there, with every variety of playthings, from the ivory bed to the clay doll painted. Nursery rhymes were widely circulated; and the veritable English "BOGY" enjoyed its reign of terror, as "Akko," or "Alphito." Perhaps a "Parent's Assistant," by a popular Greek Edgeworth, may yet reward some educational unroller of manuscripts. Meanwhile, the question naturally arises, why ancient life and history are so rarely adapted to the purposes of instructive fiction. A tale of manners should refer to antiquity so remote as to become venerable, or present a vivid reflection of scenes passing round us. The novel accordingly has a twofold aspect, as it portrays the past, or present-our ancestors, or ourselves. And with regard to the former, it may be historical or domestic; or both may be blended and interwoven; the historical being the pattern, and the domestic the thread in which it is worked. Perhaps the Quentin Durward of Scott affords the happiest example of the united, as the Vicar of Wakefield of the separated, elements. Few travellers, however, have penetrated into the country of the rich ancients. Greek and Latin life, with one or two exceptions, remains unpainted. People know it chiefly from languid epics. The Anacharsis of Barthelemy is not free from the defects of Glover. Becker compares his characters to antique statues, in French costume and lace ruffles. "Telemachus" still stands alone. |