notions of olden times. He admits the rule of divine providence in the order of nature,' and equally clearly in the fortunes of men, and especially in punishment, which overtakes the guilty, even though he have acted in the excess of an excusable passion.2 Popular forms of worship are honoured by him,3 knowing as he does that every nation likes its own rites best; only a madman, he says, can treat these with disdain.4 Credulous, too, he is, so far as to relate, in all good faith, divers wonders and prophecies, among them some of the most extraordinary kind. Even his piety is of an antique type, affected with that fear of the divine powers which is so peculiarly suited to natural religion, where the exaltation of Gods above men is not conceived of as an essential difference, but is more physical than moral. Man is not destined to enjoy perfect good fortune; his life is exposed to changes innumerable; before death no one may be called happy; nay it is even a general matter for doubt whether death is not better for a man than life. He who in prosperity or imagination soars above the lot of men, is invariably struck by the envy of the Deity, which, jealous of its privileges, will not brook a mortal rival. All this is quite in agreement with the

1 Her. iii. 108.

2 ii. 120; iv. 205; vi. 84; viii. 129; vii. 133.

3 For this reason he hesitates to utter the names of Egyptian Gods in a context which might desecrate them, ii. 86, or to speak of Egyptian mysteries. 4 iii. 38.

5 vii. 12, 57; viii. 37, 65; ix. 100. Here belong the prophecies of Bakis and Musæus, viii. 77; ix. 43, respecting the genuineness of which he entertains no doubt.

6 ii. 31.

"On the beîov plovepov, conf. i. 32. 34; iii. 40; vii. 10, 5, 46.

CHAP.

I.

СНАР.

I.

spirit, which breathes through the older poetry of Greece.

For all that, Herodotus neither can nor will conceal from us the fact that he is the son of an epoch, in which thought has already begun to shake the foundations of a simple faith. Notwithstanding the naïveté with which he tells many a wonder; there are times when he cannot resist the impulse to explain away the marvels of legend, either referring them to natural causes in the rationalising spirit of the Sophists, or at least mentioning such explanations given by others with approval. Thus the wanderings of Io and the rape of Europa are explained at the very beginning of his work to mean the carrying off by pirates of these two royal daughters. In the story of Gyges the wonderful power of his ring is referred to a very common trick.2 The prophetic doves of Dodona turn into Egyptian priestesses.3 The Egyptian stories respecting Paris and Helena are preferred to those of Homer, and the general tradition of the Greeks, on grounds far removed from ancient poetry. When Poseidon interposes in the Thessalian legend, he sees the working of an earthquake, and remarks not without irony, that those who believe Poseidon wrought the earthquake, may believe he interposed also. Add to this that he occasionally expresses the opinion that all men know equally little about the

Gods,' and it will be patent, how much doubt had CHAP. already taken the place of the ancient faith.

་

I.

In Thucydides, the next great historian, doubt (b) Thuhas gone over into the matter of fact treatment of cydides. history. The high moral tone of his style no one will deny. Even in its unfinished form his history of the Peloponnesian war has all the effect of a touching tragedy. This effect, however, is secured simply by a plain setting forth of historical facts, without introducing the interposition of the Gods to explain events. Thucydides knows how indispensable religion is for the public good. He shows, by his very description, how deeply he deplores the decay, not only moral but religious of his country. Yet the rule of the deity and of moral order in the world is only apparent in his pages by the progress of events. Convinced that human nature is always the same, he exhibits moral laws by showing how in the case before him ruin naturally resulted from the weakness and the passions of men, which he knows so well and can judge so impartially. Nowhere is a belief betrayed in those extraordinary occurrences, in which the hand of God manifests itself in Herodotus. Where his cotemporaries see the fulfilment of a prophecy, he contents himself with sober criticism.1 To depend on oracles instead of using remedies, he calls the folly of the masses; he openly expresses

3

5

CHAP.

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his disapproval of the disastrous superstition of Nicias.1 In the panegyric of the dead,2 which is quite as much a memorial of his own spirit as of the spirit of Pericles, there is not a word of the legendary history of Athens, that hackneyed theme of earlier panegyrists; but instead thereof, there is a statesman's mind dealing with facts, and practical problems. His history is a brilliant evidence of a mature judgment, of high intellectual culture, of a many-sided experience of life, of a calm, unimpassioned, pene、trating, and morally sober view of the world. It is a work which kindles the highest respect not only for the writer, but for the whole period, which could rear up such a genius.

Nor yet does this work conceal the darker sides of that period. Read only the descriptions it gives 3 of the confusion of all moral notions in the factious struggles of the Peloponnesian war, of the desolation of Athens by the plague, of the decline of piety and self-sacrifice, of the running riot of all the selfish passions, to be satisfied of the decay of moral excellence, even in that period of might and culture. Beyond all question, along with this outward change of conduct, universal convictions were shaken also; in proof of which, Thucydides puts in the mouth of several of his speakers, and particularly of those coming from Athens, naked avowals of the most selfish principles, such as could only come from the lips of some one of the younger Sophists. All who have the power seek to rule; no one is restrained by 8 ii. 53; iii. 82.

1 vii. 50.

2 ii. 35.

considerations of right from pursuing his advantage by hook and by crook; the rule of the stronger is the universal law of nature; at bottom every one judges what is right and honourable by his own interests and enjoyments; even the best regulated states act on this idea, at least in their foreign relations. These and such like utterances are put into the mouths of Athenian popular men and ambassadors on every opportunity.' Even those who have to suffer from Athenian self-seeking are in the end hardly able to blame it.2 Have we not here moral and political conditions keeping exact pace with the sophistic character of philosophy?

CHAP.

I.

(4) The

Com

edians.

Nor were other prudent men blind to the dangers which this course of things was bringing upon them, however little they were able to cortrol it, or to run counter to the spirit of their times. Take, for example, Aristophanes. This poet, an enthusiastic Aristophanes. admirer of the good old time, as he paints it with its steady morality, its strict education, its military prowess, its orderly and prudent administration,3 warms to his subject whenever he speaks of the days of Marathon. With implacable satire, now in the form of bantering jest, now in that of bitter earnestness, he lashes the innovations which have taken the place of time-honoured institutions; democracy running riot with its demagogues and sycophants;

1i. 76; iii. 40; v. 89, 105, nians, 676. 111; vi. 85.

2 iv. 61.

Clouds, 882; Knights, 1316. 4 Wasps, 1071; the Achar

5

5 Wasps; Clouds, 568. The Sycophants are taken to task on every opportunity.