says, is attributed to the gods, while for disasters the king is always held guilty. Much the same sentiment is expressed by an English writer:—
"Among misfortunes that dissension brings
This not the least is, that belongs to kings:
If wars go well, each to a part lays claim;
If ill, then kings, not subjects, bear the blame."
Only the Englishman says nothing about the gods. However, it is ill-omened to speak of disaster, so Eteocles goes on to pray that all such calamity may be kept from Thebes by Zeus the Averter. We, who are in the poet's secret, know that the ill omen is not to be so lightly put aside. The king calls on all, young and old, to come to the aid of the state, and pay to their native earth the debt due to her for their nurture. This claim of the mother-land is very touchingly urged. "Defend," he says,
"This land, your common parent,
And dearest nurse, who on her fost'ring soil
Upheld with bounteous care your infant steps,
And trained you to this service, that your hands
For her defence might lift the faithful shield."[1]
This childlike attachment to the native soil, the simplest basis of patriotism, has been generally exchanged among civilised nations for love of one's countrymen, or loyalty to the king—or has been supplanted by philosophical theories about nationality; but even now it is curious to notice how, when a nation is strongly and deeply moved, the old simple
