discovering the body of her husband on the sea-beach; and the story of
Orpheus, who grieved so over the death of his wife Eurydice that he
went to the lower world to bring her up again, but lost her again
because, contrary to his agreement with Pluto and Proserpina, he
looked back to see if she was following, is known to everybody. The
conjugal attachment and grief at the loss of a spouse which these two
legends tell of, are things the existence of which in Greece no one
has ever denied. They are simple phenomena quite apart from the
complex state of mind we call romantic love, and are shared by man
with many of the lower animals. In such attachment and grief there is
no evidence of altruistic affection. Orpheus tried to bring back
Eurydice to please himself, not her, and Alcyone's suicide was of no
possible use to Ceyx.[326]

The story of Panthea and Abradates, to which Professor Ebers refers so
triumphantly, is equally inconclusive as to the existence of
altruistic affection. Abradates, having been urged by his wife Panthea
to show himself worthy of the friendship of Cyrus by doing valorous
deeds, falls in a battle, whereat Panthea is so grieved at the result
of her advice that she commits suicide. From the modern Christian
point of view this was not a rational proof of affection, but a
foolish and criminal act. But it harmonized finely with the Greek
ideal--the notion that patriotism is even a woman's first duty, and
her life not worth living except in subservience to her husband. There
is good reason to believe[327] that this story was a pure invention of
Xenophon and deliberately intended to be an object lesson to women
regarding the ideal they ought to live up to. The whole of the book in
which it appears--[Greek: Kyrou paideia]--is what the Germans call a
_Tendenzroman_--a historic romance with a moral, illustrating the
importance of a correct education and glorifying a certain form of
government.

To a student of Greek love one of the most instructive documents is
the [Greek: erotika pathaemata] of Parthenius, who was a contemporary
of the most famous Roman poets (first century before Christ), and the
teacher of Virgil. It is a collection of thirty-six short love-stories
in prose, made for him by his friend Cornelius Gallus, who was in
quest of subjects which he might turn into elegies. It has been
remarked that these poems are peculiarly sad, but a better word for
them is coarse. Unbridled lust, incest, [Gre