Connected with this reciprocal indulgence of individual diversity, was not only the hospitable reception of all strangers at Athens, which Pericles contrasts with the xenelasia or jealous expulsion practised at Sparta—but also the many-sided activity, bodily and mental, visible in the former, so opposite to that narrow range of thought, exclusive discipline of the body, and never-ending preparation for war, which formed the system of the latter. His assertion that Athens was equal to Sparta even in her own solitary excellence—efficiency on the field of battle—is doubtless untenable. But not the less impressive is his sketch of that multitude of concurrent impulses which at this same time agitated and impelled the Athenian mind—the strength of one not implying the weakness of the remainder: the relish for all pleasures of art and elegance, and the appetite for intellectual expansion, coinciding in the same bosom with energetic promptitude as well as endurance: abundance of recreative spectacles, yet noway abating the cheerfulness of obedience even to the hardest calls of patriotic duty: that combination of reason and courage which encountered danger the more willingly from having discussed and calculated it beforehand: lastly, an anxious interest, as well as a competence of judgment, in public discussion and public action, common to every citizen rich and poor, and combined with every man’s own private industry. So comprehensive an ideal of many-sided social development, bringing out the capacities for action and endurance, as well as those for enjoyment, would be sufficiently remarkable, even if we supposed it only existing in the imagination of a philosopher: but it becomes still more so when we recollect that the main features of it at least were drawn from the fellow citizens of the speaker. It must be taken however as belonging peculiarly to the Athens of Pericles and his contemporaries; nor would it have suited either the period of the Persian War fifty years before, or that of Demosthenes seventy years afterwards.
At the former period, the art, letters, philosophy, adverted to with pride by Pericles, were as yet backward, while even the active energy and democratical stimulus, though very powerful, had not been worked up to the pitch which they afterwards reached: at the latter period, although the intellectual manifestations of Athens subsist in full or even increased vigour, we shall find the personal enterprise and energetic spirit of her citizens materially abated. As the circumstances, which we have already recounted, go far to explain the previous upward movement, so those which fill the coming chapters, containing the disasters of the Peloponnesian War, will be found to explain still more completely the declining tendency shortly about to commence. Athens was brought to the brink of entire ruin, from which it is surprising that she recovered at all—but noway surprising that she recovered at the expense of a considerable loss of personal energy in the character of her citizens.
And thus the season at which Pericles delivered his discourse lends to it an additional and peculiar pathos. It was delivered at a time when Athens was as yet erect and at her maximum: for though her real power was doubtless much diminished compared with the period before the Thirty Years’ Truce, yet the great edifices and works of art, achieved since then, tended to compensate that loss, in so far as the sense of greatness was concerned; and no one, either citizen or enemy, considered Athens as having at all declined. It was delivered at the commencement of the great struggle with the Peloponnesian confederacy, the coming hardships of which Pericles never disguised either to himself or to his fellow citizens, though he fully counted upon eventual success. Attica had been already invaded; it was no longer “the unwasted territory,” as Euripides had designated it in his tragedy Medea, represented three or four months before the march of Archidamus—and a picture of Athens in her social glory was well calculated both to arouse the pride and nerve the courage of those individual citizens, who had been compelled once, and would be compelled again and again, to abandon their country residences and fields for a thin tent or confined hole in the city. Such calamities might indeed be foreseen: but there was one still greater calamity, which, though actually then impending, could not be foreseen.[b]
[430 B.C.]
At the very beginning of the next summer the Peloponnesians and their allies, with two-thirds of their forces, as on the first occasion, invaded Attica, under the command of Archidamus, the son of Zeuxidamus, king of the Lacedæmonians; and after encamping, they laid waste the country. When they had not yet been many days in Attica, the plague first began to show itself among the Athenians; though it was said to have previously lighted on many places, about Lemnos and elsewhere. Such a pestilence, however, and loss of life as this, was nowhere remembered to have happened. For neither were physicians of any avail at first, treating it as they did, in ignorance of its nature,—nay, they themselves died most of all, inasmuch as they most visited the sick,—nor any other art of man. And as to the supplications that they offered in their temples, or the divinations, and similar means, that they had recourse to, they were all unavailing; and at last they ceased from them, being overcome by the pressure of the calamity.
THUCYDIDES’ ACCOUNT OF THE PLAGUE
It is said to have first begun in the part of Ethiopia above Egypt, and then to have come down into Egypt, and Libya, and the greatest part of the king’s territory.[49] On the city of Athens it fell suddenly, and first attacked the men in the Piræus; so that it was even reported by them that the Peloponnesians had thrown poison into the cisterns; for as yet there were no fountains there. Afterwards it reached the upper city also; and then they died much more generally. Now let every one, whether physician or unprofessional man, speak on the subject according to his views; from what source it was likely to have arisen, and the causes which he thinks were sufficient to have produced so great a change from health to universal sickness. I, however, shall only describe what was its character; and explain those symptoms by reference to which one might best be enabled to recognise it through this previous acquaintance, if it should ever break out again; for I was both attacked by it myself, and had personal observation of others who were suffering with it.
That year then, as was generally allowed, happened to be of all years the most free from disease, so far as regards other disorders; and if any one had any previous sickness, all terminated in this. Others, without any ostensible cause, but suddenly, while in the enjoyment of health, were seized at first with violent heats in the head, and redness and inflammation of the eyes; and the internal parts, both the throat and the tongue, immediately assumed a bloody tinge, and emitted an unnatural and fetid breath. Next after these symptoms, sneezing and hoarseness came on; and in a short time the pain descended to the chest, with a violent cough. When it settled in the stomach, it caused vomiting; and all the discharges of bile that have been mentioned by physicians succeeded, and those accompanied with great suffering. An ineffectual retching also followed in most cases, producing a violent spasm, which in some cases ceased soon afterwards, in others not until a long time later.
Externally the body was not very hot to the touch, nor was it pale; but reddish, livid, and broken out in small pimples and sores. But the internal parts were burnt to such a degree that they could not bear clothing or linen of the very lightest kind to be laid upon them, nor to be anything else but stark naked; but would most gladly have thrown themselves into cold water if they could. Indeed many of those who were not taken care of did so, plunging into cisterns in the agony of their unquenchable thirst: and it was all the same whether they drank much or little. Moreover, the misery of restlessness and wakefulness continually oppressed them. The body did not waste away so long as the disease was at its height, but resisted it beyond all expectation: so that they either died in most cases on the ninth or the seventh day, through the internal burning, while they had still some degree of strength; or if they escaped that stage of the disorder, then, after it had further descended into the bowels, and violent ulceration was produced in them, and intense diarrhœa had come on, the greater part were afterwards carried off through the weakness occasioned by it. For the disease, which was originally seated in the head, beginning from above, passed throughout the whole body; and if any one survived its most fatal consequences, yet it marked him by laying hold of his extremities; for it settled on the pudenda, and fingers, and toes, and many escaped with the loss of these, while some also lost their eyes. Others, again, were seized on their first recovery with forgetfulness of everything alike, and did not know either themselves or their friends.
