Abbott's Greece

PROFESSOR ABBOTT’S book deserves a hearty welcome. It has a character and value of its own as an original work. If it be attempted to indicate in a single sentence the merits of the new history, it may be said to combine the clearness, the wise caution, and the fairness of Grote with all Curtius’ grace of style, while through every page are felt an exquisite delicacy, and a scholar’s love of literature, of the Divine Philosophy, of the contemplative life, — characteristics which are the author’s own, except as we are wont to associate them with the best Oxford culture. This first installment is nearly as large, and covers almost the same ground, as the first of Curtius’ three volumes. Of Grote’s edition in twelve volumes, three and a half are consumed in reaching the same point. It is evident at once that Mr. Abbott has no expectation of supplanting that historical masterpiece of the last generation. Indeed, the Greek history of Mr. Grote (though greatly in need of a considerable mass of notes, made necessary by the excavations and investigations of the last decades) is probably still unequaled in any language as a general picture of Hellenic political life.

Professor Abbott has made a faithful effort to record all the important results of that indefatigable special research which has its chief seat in Germany. Of the Teutonic literary — or far more properly, unliterary — spirit he has imbibed (may we not say, “Thank God”?) little or nothing. The works of German specialists in any field are usually not intended to be read, in any proper sense of the word, at all. Even in outward form, they resemble more than anything else Merlin’s magic book, as described in Tennyson : the little square of text, almost lost in a tangled wilderness of cross-references, notes, citations, etc. Busolt’s Greek History, to take a brilliant example, is exhaustive in all senses, a marvel of learning and patience. The author has undoubtedly cited and given due credit to every one of his predecessors and co-workers, great and small. A student finds here all his materials accumulated and laid before him. But to speak of reading such a book is as incongruous as to propose a pleasure-walk through a swampy tropical jungle.

There is, perhaps, some ground for a suspicion that the Oxford don set about his own history, or at least jotted down the brief and modest preface, after a prolonged struggle with some such Chalkenteros as Busolt. There is a gentle weariness suggested in the sentence, “ It has been written in the belief that an intelligible sketch of Greek civilization may be given within a brief compass, — not with the hope of throwing light on old obscurities, or quoting fresh evidence where all the evidence has long ago been collected.”

It may be remarked in passing that the phrase in the book most likely to provoke just criticism is, curiously enough, the first line of the preface : “ Though we can add nothing to the existing records of Greek history.” A disappointing remark printed a few years ago by Mr. Abbott’s great Balliol colleague, Professor Jowett, on the trifling value of inscriptions as historical evidence, will recur to many readers’ minds. Yet Mr. Abbott probably did not intend to belittle, he certainly does not ignore, the new light constantly thrown by numismatics, epigraphy, and archæology generally on many dark corners of Greek history. His appreciation of all these sister studies is clearly indicated in the preface written by him for the interesting volume of Humanistic essays, from the hands of various English scholars, issued a few years ago under the title Hellenika. The same appreciation is revealed yet more adequately by numberless passages throughout the present volume.

Mr. Abbott is courteous in the extreme to all his predecessors, though he of course quotes them most frequently when not in full agreement with them. Grote’s history has been satirically described as “ an attempt to fight the battles of English liberalism under the guise of a defense of the Athenian democracy.” There is a large grain of truth in the remark, as Mr. Grote himself would have been the first to admit. In the work before us such disapproval is conveyed only by a hint, if it be indeed even a hint, in a passing phrase : “ If we cannot apply the lessons which Greek history offers directly to modern politics,” etc. Our author’s curtest word of disapproval is reserved for the audacious conjectures of writers like Duncker, when treating of matters where no evidence at all is at present attainable. Indeed, a cautious conservatism is one of the most prominent and comfortable traits of the book. In regard to a long succession of problems much fought over, Professor Abbott briefly sums up the evidence, mentions the opposing views, refers to works like Busolt’s for the full bibliography of the subject, but hardly ever suggests any hypothesis of his own ; preferring rather to intimate that the question is insoluble without more evidence, which may probably never be obtained. The student, for instance, will be struck with his fair treatment of the mysterious much-discussed Pelasgians, — who were the aboriginal predecessors, or the ancestors, or the neighbors, or all three, of the historic Greeks, — and also of the doughty king Pheidon of Argos, who certainly played a very aggressive part in his day in Peloponnesian politics, but whose tall, dim figure lies strangely extended by the various chroniclers through several successive centuries of semi-mythical Hellenic annals. Though he does not give up so unequivocally as Grote all attempt at connecting “ legendary Greece ” with the historical period proper, yet Mr. Abbott is fully aware that very little, if any, trustworthy data can be sifted out from the heroic epics of the Hellenes, or from their traditionary legends. The latter are related, somewhat apologetically, because there is usually nothing else to offer; but almost every conclusion as to actual events indicated by them is suggested hesitatingly and doubtfully.

There are some indications that Mr. Abbott had expected to bring his work within much smaller compass, and that his mould has, as it were, broken in his hands. To this change of scale may perhaps be attributed the most serious fault of his opening volume, namely, the curious unevenness in the references to classical authorities. In some portions our author is almost as conscientious as Grote himself ; in others, he apparently takes for granted that every word in certain writers, notably Homer, Herodotus, Pausanias, and Strabo, is too well known to the reader to need citation. This omission is most striking in the very interesting and succinct sketch of Homeric society. Here, by the way, the reader is surprised at the omission of all reference to Professor Jebb’s excellent little monograph on Homer, which must have appeared earlier than several of the books given in the index of Works Quoted or Consulted. In this list, at the close of the volume, which is unusually well up to date, we miss Baumeister’s Monuments of Classical Antiquity (which will certainly be for many years indispensable to every earnest student of Greek or Roman life), the History of Ancient Sculpture by the lamented Mrs. Mitchell, the revision of Preller’s Mythology by Professor Robert, and the recent new edition, in greatly altered form, of Hermann’s Greek Antiquities. (It is here intended to mention merely a few such works as are needed by, and accessible to, all general students of Greek history at the present day.)

In the first volume of any history of Greece, there is an inevitable lack of unity and distinctness, inherent in the nature of the subject and in our sources of information. The latter may be mainly divided into epic poetry, traditional legends recorded in much later times, and the precious bits of historical fact preserved by Herodotus. We have nothing like adequate material for the early history of any Greek clan or city; and even if this lack were by some miracle supplied, the narrative would still be inevitably composed of many loosely connected threads, especially down to the period of the Persian wars.

American scholars will look forward with pleasant anticipations to Mr. Abbott’s next volume, in which he hopes to cover the entire fifth century, from the Ionic revolt to the downfall of Athens, — another indication that his work is upon the same scale as Professor Curtius’ history.

The query with which a patriotic American will lay aside this book is, Why do we not produce any such work ? The standard of American scholarship has risen, and is rising steadily, — there is no doubt about that, — and the present reviewer certainly wishes to be counted with the optimists. A prominent American professor, who has by no means yet outgrown the enthusiasms of youth, well remembers the exasperated silence with which, in his student days, he was compelled to receive the condescending dictum of Wilhelm Dindorf : “ You have one scholar in America, — Charles Anthon ” ! An American student in Germany to-day could hardly let that remark pass unchallenged. Nay, even a Dindorf would no longer utter it. There are Americans eminent in many departments of special research, and in this particular one of classical philology, there are even a few centres for organized original investigation in our country,— not unknown nor unhonored even in Germany. The last important essay of Hermann Grimm contains a word of warm admiration for the enthusiastic young scholarship of America.

We seem to be in a fair way to set on foot a respectable imitation, at least, of the great German centres of learned research. Are we in danger of losing the more pervasive and more beautiful English culture, which is part of our birthright ?

The readers of The Atlantic will not have forgotten the remarkably clear, incisive, and somewhat aggressive article of President Hyde upon The Future of the country College. His distinction between the functions of university and college was especially lucid. TIis enthusiastic confidence in the unclouded future of the “country college,” at any rate, was encouraging and infectious. With his essential distinction most of us will heartily agree. The university should be the place where specialists can become learned. The college is, or should be, the fountain-head of a widespread and humanizing culture. We are ready to agree with Mr. Hyde, also, that Harvard, for instance, is wrestling with a difficult and dangerous if not an insoluble problem, in so far as she continues to admit the same immature school-boys as of old at the one end of the machine, and attempts to turn out at the other, after only four years’ shaping, the finished product of both college and university at once.

It is not even just to the instructors to expect a permanent continuation of the two functions. A university specialist should have reached the frontier line of human knowledge in his chosen department, and should be able to show his disciples, by example as well as by precept, how to pass that limit and explore new fields. Such work is quite beyond the powers of unformed college boys, engaged upon simultaneous studies in several diverse directions : nor can it reasonably be demanded even of their instructors.

Mr. Hyde would, however, doubtless admit that college chairs can be worthily filled only by men possessing a broad, well-matured education, not too narrowly specialized, for the best models of which we may still turn profitably to the great English centres of study. Thus the question arises, Do our colleges uphold in the community, as boldly and aggressively as they should, the standard of true humanizing, refining culture? In particular, do they, and should they not, appear adequately represented in the forum of literature, to show the value of that culture by its permanent, unmistakable, and beautiful fruits?

A meeting of the association of colleges and preparatory schools gave anxious consideration to the question, Why does the attendance at our colleges grow more slowly than our general population ? Many answers were suggested. Perhaps still another line of inquiry may be hazarded.

The accumulation of surplus wealth in our own country is probably beyond all example in history. In the race for money, however, especially in the years since the civil war, even our native population has largely forgotten the more important uses, the higher happiness, of life. But conditions are now, perhaps, growing more stable and less feverish ; at any rate, the situation is getting to be fairly well defined. The new type of man developed by our peculiar environment, or we may almost say lack of environment, is a somewhat unsentimental, thrifty, possibly even selfish, business man. But at least he wants the best, the very best of everything, for his children rather than for himself.

In his judgment of the scholar, this average American citizen has usually only one definite idea, — that he is a dreamer, quite out of contact with actual life. Consider for a moment the genuine amazement and dismay with which the average citizen regards a serious attempt on the part of educated men to exert their due influence in the solution of a great political or economic problem. He seems to look upon them somewhat as he might watch a group of monkeys escaped from their cage, and engaged in some mischief, the effects of which they cannot be made to comprehend ; or, to substitute a simile somewhat more complimentary, that a throng of excited passengers had attempted to dictate the management of a great ocean steamer.

Of course no such view of scholarly activity in the political field will be submitted to. The men who devote their lives to the study of the records of human experience as transmitted in history and literature have not less, but infinitely more, claim to be heard on any important subject than those engaged only in the vulgar scramble for wealth. Emerson’s brief essay on Politics outweighs, and will outlast, all the floods of campaign literature and selfish demagogic eloquence which have so often since then deluged the land.

But is there one of the older civilized countries where the organs of the horde of money-getters would dare to stigmatize the whole class of liberally educated men as visionary theorists ? Imagine a university education regarded in England as a disqualification for high public office! Even in Germany, where political leaders and great scholars seem more nearly the representative men of two distinct castes, the illustrious double career of a Mommsen shows that the gap is not yet impassable. The condition of things among ourselves is an alarming symptom, indicating how far the most highly educated and wisest men have lost their proper leadership in the national councils and the national life.

Now, do the colleges, and the limited body of cultivated, reflective, and earnest scholars generally, appeal as directly and sensibly to the average American as they could and should ? Among the philosophic few it is an axiom which one rarely thinks of even stating, that wider knowledge, closer contact with the wise and good of all ages, the assimilation of their best thoughts, the contemplation of their glorious deeds, are the employments which ennoble young and old, and make men truly happy.

But the typical American, as Professor Shaler has very clearly set forth in a recent essay, is only dimly conscious that he ever even had any ancestry at all. That the achievements of other races and peoples in the past or present have any lessons of overwhelming value to teach us, he certainly does not believe. That the poetry, the philosophy, the architecture, the plastic arts, can be used to make life more beautiful, more happy, better worth living, he understands at best very imperfectly. Perhaps he is open to conviction. Is a proper effort being exerted to make him realize all this ? American men read to a moderate extent. The women of America have large leisure, a liberal share of influence in home and social life, and surely also a lofty consciousness of their duty as mothers of the race that is to be. To them, it may be chiefly, we may hopefully appeal.

Again, there is a widespread feeling that American literature is not holding the height attained in the last generation. The subject is quite too large for a reviewer, possibly rather too serious for a professed optimist. But if our literature is losing, or in danger of losing, its vital power, its hold on the national life, may we not find a partial explanation in the fact that a great body of men, claiming, no doubt justly, that they have accumulated knowledge worthy to be widely disseminated, nevertheless disdain to learn and practice the art of adequate and graceful expression ?