A SAMIAN MERCHANTMAN.

11

commit sufficient execution without the assistance of soft words and flattering speeches. As it was, bright eyes would peep through creeks and crannies; songs and laughter would penetrate party walls; and the fluttering of hearts sadly interfered with the embroidering of himations and weaving of chitons.

But amidst the general excitement and festivity, which followed the arrival of the Athenian vessel, the Samian merchantman has been totally forgotten. The night is fast coming on. The anxious colloquies between the magistrates and the envoys are nearly concluded. The groups of politicians who have been discussing the news of the war and the probable objects of the mission of the Athenian embassy, have left the corners of the streets and colonnades of the temples, and sought their quiet homes. Patriotic citizens are carefully preparing their speeches for the morrow;-speeches that are intended not only to sway the assembly at the pnyx, but to strike the more critical and experienced Athenians with admiring wonder. The symposia are over. Maidens are dreaming of crests and swords; and even the warriors have faint visions of beautiful forms in gracefully falling chitons, of white arms and braided tresses. Sailors who have drowned too many of their cares in Thurian wine, are imagining themselves in the Piræus, and tumbling over their own lanterns in vain attempts to reach their ship. Leaving these several scenes, we proceed to the outskirts of the town. small house, very pleasantly situated, are two men sitting in the open court of the andronitis. One of them, an old man bordering on sixty, with a long beard and white flowing hair, is Herodotus, the old historian, from Halicarnassus. The other is the captain of the Samian merchantman. Their conversation has been long and interesting. The Samian skipper, a dry, hardy salt, with a merry twinkle in his eye, has been drinking a cup of unmixed wine, and telling the story of his mishaps. His

In a

narrative was short and abrupt; he cared not for danger, and seemed to chuckle over his own misfortunes. He had carried a cargo of wine to Egypt, and bartered it for fine linen. He had then coasted to Cyrene to purchase silphium, and from thence had endeavoured to run across to Crete. A Levanter, however, carried him far away to the west. At one time he thought of trying to reach Carthage, and taking his chance of being sacrificed to Moloch or sold for a slave; at another of keeping out at sea, and suffering himself to be driven to the pillars of Heracles or Elysian fields. The tempest, however, had lulled a breeze sprung up from the south, which filled his eyes with sand from the Sahara, but bore him safely into the Tarentine Gulf; and he anchored at Thurium just as he and his crew were on the point of starving, having eaten nothing for two days but some rats and a few odd pieces of tackling. Thus far, all had turned out for the best. The physicians at Crotona, close by, would be glad to buy some of his silphium*; and he should take on board an extra large stock of provisions and water, and try to make his way round the hostile coasts of the Peloponnesus without encountering a Peloponnesian galley. If he could obtain a cargo of Laconian dye on his way home all the better; and in about a month or six weeks he hoped to arrive safe and sound at Athens. Having finished his relation, he began to talk of things in general:

the war, that was crippling the Corinthian trade; the increased demand for slaves; the riches of Tartessus and Gades; the tin mines and barbarians of Cassiterides; and, above all, of the folly of the struggle between Athens and Sparta, when, by uniting their forces, they might achieve the conquest of Carthage, establish a free trade over the whole world, and let the boldest captain get the best cargo

*

Silphium was a valuable kind of assafoetida, which was used as an aperient medicine, and sometimes employed for fattening cattle and making their flesh tender.

without he and his crew running the risk of being sacrificed like sheep or sold like dogs by the Phoenician psalmsingers.* Herodotus did not deny the propriety of the haughty Spartan fighting in the cause of free trade, but tried to lead his guest to tell of his travels on sea and land. The Samian had been at sea since his early childhood. He knew every port in the Ægean, the Propontis, and the Euxine. He now told stories of strange nations and mysterious cities, to which the old historian listened with sparkling eyes and tingling ears. Herodotus heard places described which he had himself visited, scenes which he had himself witnessed, and was therefore fully disposed to believe every marvellous account. Sea-dragons or seanymphs, however, the Samian had never beheld for certain. A captain, under whom he had served, once caught a sea-nymph off Cyprus, but after a week or two she was reported to have swam away. The captain's wife heard of it; but the captain swore by Zeus that she was a real sea-nymph, if ever there was one. As for himself, he could only say that the sea-nymph had a beautiful head and shoulders, for he could not see the fish's tail, as she was dressed in a long chiton, and moved about for all the world like a Paphian damsel. Finishing this delectable story, the Samian began to talk about the glories of Athens, and of the magnificent structures erected by Pericles. He soon found the attention of his listener more enchained than ever. Many years had passed since Herodotus had visited Athens, and every year seemed to increase his desire for undertaking one more voyage to the famous city. Suddenly he determined to go to Athens at once. The vintage was all gathered, and the wheat harvest likewise was nearly all got in; and he could not expect to leave at a better time. Accordingly, he proposed

* The indignant Samian was probably thinking of the hymns sung at Gades to the genius of death. See Philostrat. Vit. Apoll. v. 4.

to the honest skipper to accompany him in his return voyage as far as Athens, and offered to furnish him with a fair stock of provisions in payment for his passage. The Samian immediately and gladly consented. He was by no means anxious to sell his silphium at Crotona, if he could obtain provisions on easy terms at Thurium; and he had discovered that the trireme from Athens was only forty-eight hours in advance of nineteen other war galleys, and that, consequently, salt beef and flour would soon be scarce and high-priced. On the other hand, Herodotus was willing to let him have all that he required beyond the quantity agreed on for the passage, and to wait for payment until they arrived at Athens. Thus the bargain was concluded, and each party made their necessary arrangements. The next morning, amidst the tumultuous uproar and speechifying at the pnyx, the Samian got his rough craft ready for the return voyage; and Herodotus, having obtained a passport from the prytanes, and placed his farm and household in the charge of a near relation, was once more on the salt waves, bound for the favourite city of bright-eyed Athena.

CHAP. II.

HALICARNASSUS, B. c. 484-464.

HERODOTUS BORN B. C. 484, AT HALICARNASSUS, IN ASIA MINOR. ANCIENT HISTORY OF WESTERN ASIA MINOR.

OF INFANTS.

CEREMONIES ATTENDING THE BIRTH EARLY YEARS OF HERODOTUS. -NURSERY STORIES OF EMPUSA, OF THE LAMIÆ, AND OF THE NYMPHS. -STORY OF SCYLLA AND GLAUCUS. -SCHOOL AND GYMNASIUM. WRITING ON TABLETS AND PAPYRUS. FABLES, VERSES, AND WISE SAYINGS. — ARITHMETIC. MUSIC. GYMNASTICS AND GREEK SPORTS. · HERODOTUS AT THE AGE OF TWENTY. — HIS RELIGIOUS BELIEF. GREEK MYTHOLOGY ACCORDING TO THE NATIONAL FAITH.

HERODOTUS was born at Halicarnassus, a maritime city on the south-western coast of Asia Minor, and we invite our readers to embark in our imaginary yacht and pay a visit to the famous site. Leaving the fair foot of Italy we sail round the sister peninsula of Greece, and thread our way through the green islands of the Egean towards the torn and jagged coasts of Asia Minor. We pace the deck at midnight listening to the calm music of the waves. The Etesian winds of summer are flinging the light salt spray around us. In the distance the long fantastic promontories of Asia Minor spread into the Egean like the tangled locks of some fair sea-nymph. Far away to our left are the immortal plains of Troy; close before us is the hill from whence in olden time the haughty city of Halicarnassus serenely gazed upon the crested billows. Steering between two antique piers we enter the once famous harbour. We see around us the precipitous slopes where sat the ancient city. Ascending the green shores we look with wonder on her impregnable acropolis; we taste the waters of that sweet spring of Salmacis where, twenty-three centuries ago, the young Herodotus drank many a cooling