To the house of the mother I bid thee repair—
Thou wilt find, if she’s pleased, what thy heart covets, there.
Upon this, Parmeniscos hastened homeward, hoping soon to enjoy a good laugh as the reward of his industry; but, finding his features remain fixed as cast-iron, he began to suspect the oracle had deceived him. Some time after, being at Delos, he beheld with admiration the several wonders of the island, and, lastly, proceeded to the temple of Leto, expecting to find in the mother of Apollo something worthy of so great a divinity. But, on entering and perceiving, instead, a grotesque and smoky old figure in wood, he burst into an immoderate fit of laughter, whereupon the response of the oracle recurred to his mind, and he understood it; and, being thus delivered from his infirmity, he ever after held the goddess in extremest reverence.[[775]]
Even from this story, therefore, it will be seen how highly “broad grins” were estimated in antiquity, particularly at Athens, where there was a regular “Wits’ Club,” consisting of threescore members, who assembled during the Diomeia,[[776]] in the temple of Heracles. The names of several of these jovial mortals have come down to us; Mandrogenes, for example, and Strato, Callimedon, who, for some particular quality of mind or body, obtained the sobriquet of the Lobster, Deinias, Mnasigeiton, and Menæchmos. The reputation of these gentlemen spread rapidly through the city, and, when a good thing had a run among the small wits, it was remarked, that “the Sixty had said that.” Or, if a man of talent were asked, whence he came, he would answer, “From the Sixty.” This was in the time of Demosthenes, when, unhappily, jesters were in more request in Athens than soldiers; and Philip of Macedon, himself no mean buffoon, learning the excellent quality of their bon mots, sent them a present of a talent of gold, with a request that, as public business prevented his joining the sittings of the club, they would make for his use a collection in writing of all their smart sayings, which was, probably, the first step towards those repositories for stray wit, called “Joe Millers,” that form so indispensable a portion of a bon vivant’s library.[[777]]
But we are all this while detaining the company from their wine, and those other recreations which the fertile genius of the Greeks invented to make the wheels of life move smoothly. Though the tables, according to the fashion of the times, were removed with the solid viands, others were brought in to replace them, on which the censers, the goblets, the silver or golden ladles for filling the smaller cups, were arranged in order.[[778]] The chairman, or, as he was then called, the king of the feast,[[779]] enjoyed absolute power over his subjects, and could determine better than their own palates, how much and how often each man should drink. This important functionary was not always identical with the entertainer, but sometimes his substitute, sometimes a person chosen by lot.[[780]] Capacious bowls of wine,[[781]] mingled with water, were placed on a sideboard, whence cup-bearers, sometimes of one, sometimes of the other sex, but always selected for their youth and beauty, filled, with ladles,[[782]] the goblets of the guests, which, when the froth rose above the brim, were, by an obvious metaphor, said to be crowned.[[783]] Among the Doric Greeks, female cup-bearers seem to have been always preferred; the Ptolemies of Egypt cherished the same taste; and the people of Tarentum, themselves of Doric race, passing successively through every stage of luxury, came, at length, to be served at table by beautiful young women without a vestige of clothing. In most cases, these maidens were slaves, but, in some countries, and everywhere, in remoter ages, the performance of such offices was not regarded as any way derogatory to persons of noble or princely blood. But, whatever might be their birth, beauty of form and countenance constituted their chief recommendation. For there is a language in looks and gestures, there is a fountain of joy and delight concealed deep in the physical structure, and its waters laugh to the eye of intellect, and reflect into the hearts of those who behold it a sunniness and exhilaration greater than we derive from gazing on the summer sea. Hence, Hebe and Ganymede were chosen to minister at the tables of the gods, even Zeus himself[[784]] not disdaining to taste of the pleasures to be derived from basking in the irradiations of beauty.
When the goblets were all crowned with the nectar of earth, the Master of the Feast[[785]] set the example of good-fellowship by drinking to his guests, beginning with the most distinguished.[[786]] Originally, custom required him who drank to the health of another to drain off his cup while his comrade did the same; but, in after ages, they sipped only a portion of the wine, and, as they still do in the East, presented the remainder to their friend. The latter, by the rules of politeness, was bound to finish the goblet, or, where the antique fashion prevailed, to drink one of equal size.[[787]] The Macedonians, who, probably, excelled the Greeks in drinking, if in nothing else, disdained small cups as supplying a very roundabout way to intoxication, and plunged into Lethe at once by the aid of most capacious bowls. It was customary, when the practice of passing round the goblet had been introduced, for the king of the feast to drink to the next man on his right hand, who, in his turn, drank to the next, and so on till the bowl had circulated round the board. But different customs prevailed in the different parts of Greece. At Athens, small cups, like our wine-glasses, were in use; among the Chians, Thracians, and Thessalians, nations more prone to sensual indulgences, the goblets were of larger dimensions; but, at Sparta, where sobriety and frugality long flourished, the practice was to drink from diminutive vessels, which, as often as required, were replenished by the attendants.[[788]]
Isocrates, in his exhortation to Demonicos, marks the distinction between the true and false friend, by observing, that, while the latter thinks only of those around him, the former remembers the absent, and makes his affection triumph over time and distance. And the Greeks generally had this merit. Amid the enjoyments of the festive board, they recalled to mind the friends of other days; and, having first performed libations to the gods, those best and purest of friends, drank to the health and prosperity of former associates, now far removed by circumstances,[[789]] and this they did not in the mixed beverage which formed their habitual potations, but in pure wine.[[790]] There was something extremely delicate in this idea, for tacitly it intimated, that their love placed the objects of it almost on a level with their divinities, in whose honour, also, on these occasions, a small portion of the wine was spilt in libations[[791]] upon the earth. The young, in whose hearts a mistress held the first place,[[792]] drank deeply in honour of their beloved, sometimes equalling the number of cups to that of the letters forming her name,[[793]] which, if the custom prevailed so early, would account for Ægisthos’s being a sot. Sometimes, however, taking the hint from the number of the Graces, they were satisfied with three goblets; but, when an excuse for drinking “pottle deep” was sought, they chose the Muses for their patrons, and honoured their mistresses’ names with three times three.[[794]] This is the number of cheers with which favourite political toasts are received at our public dinners, though every one who fills his bumper, and cries “hip, hip, hip, hurrah!” on these occasions, is, probably, not conscious that he is keeping up an old pagan custom in honour of the Muses.
The number four was in no favour at the drinking-table, not because it was an even number, for they sometimes drank ten, but because some old superstition had brought discredit on it. Our very fox-hunters, however, exhibit an inferior capacity to many of the ancients in affairs of the bottle, though when it is the poets who perform the feat, we may safely consider them to be simply regaling their fancies on “air-drawn” goblets, which cost nothing, and leave no head-aches behind them. On this subject there is a very pretty song in the Anthology, which Potter, following some old edition, completely misrepresents.[[795]] It deserves to be well translated, and I would translate it well if I could. The following at least preserves the meaning:
Pour out ten cups of the purple wine,
To crown Lycidicè’s charms divine;