PHILOTHEA:

A Grecian Romance. 

BY L. MARIA CHILD. 

AUTHOR OF LETTERS FROM NEW YORK, FLOWERS FOR CHILDREN, ETC

 The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The Power, the Beauty, and the Majesty, That had their haunts in dale or piny mountain. Or forest by slow stream, or pabbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths, all these have vanished-- They live no longer in the faith of Reason! But still, the heart doth need a language--still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names. COLERIDGE. 

 A Spirit hung, Beautiful region! o'er thy towns and farms, Statues, and temples, and memorial tombs, And _emanations_ were perceived. WORDSWORTH. 

A NEW AND CORRECTED EDITION. 

To

MY BELOVED BROTHER, Dr. Francis, OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY, To whose Early Influence I owe my Love of Literature

THIS VOLUME

IS RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 

PREFACE

This volume is purely romance; and most readers will consider it romanceof the wildest kind. A few kindred spirits, prone to people space "withlife and mystical predominance, " will perceive a light _within_ theGrecian Temple. 

For such I have written it. To minds of different mould, who may thinkan apology necessary for what they will deem so utterly useless, I havenothing better to offer than the simple fact that I found delight indoing it. 

CHAPTER I. 

 Here let us seek Athenæ's towers, The cradle of old Cecrops' race, The world's chief ornament and grace; Here mystic fanes and rites divine, And lamps in sacred splendour shine; Here the gods dwell in marble domes, Feasted with costly hecatombs, That round their votive statues blaze, Whilst crowded temples ring with praise; And pompous sacrifices here Make holidays throughout the year. ARISTOPHANES. 

The moon was moving through the heavens in silent glory; and Athens, with all her beautiful variety of villas, altars, statues, and temples, rejoiced in the hallowed light. 

The white columns of the lofty Parthenon stood in distinct reliefagainst the clear blue sky; the crest and spear of Pallas Promachosglittered in the refulgent atmosphere, a beacon to the distant mariner;the line of brazen tripods, leading from the Theatre of Dionysus, glowedlike urns of fire; and the waters of the Illyssus glanced rightjoyfully, as they moved onward to the ocean. The earth was like aslumbering babe, smiling in its sleep, because it dreams of Heaven. 

In the most ancient and quiet part of the city, not far from the gateDiocharis, was the modest mansion of Anaxagoras; and at this tranquilhour, the grand-daughter of the philosopher, with her beloved companionEudora, stood on the roof, enjoying the radiant landscape, and the balmyair. 

Philothea's tall figure was a lovely union of majesty and grace. Thegolden hair, which she inherited from a Laconian mother, was tastefullyarranged on the top of her head, in a braided crown, over the sides ofwhich the bright curls fell, like tendrils of grapes from the edge of abasket. The mild brilliancy of her large dark eyes formed a beautifulcontrast to a complexion fair even to transparency. Her expression hadthe innocence of infancy; but it was tinged with something elevated andholy, which made it seem like infancy in Heaven. 

Eudora had more sparkling eyes, lips more richly coloured, and a formmore slender and flexile. Her complexion might have seemed dark, had itnot been relieved by a profusion of glossy black hair, a portion ofwhich was fastened with a silver arrow, while the remainder shaded herforehead, and fell over her shoulders. 

As they stood side by side, with their arms twined around each other, they were as lovely a sight as the moon ever shone upon. Totally unlikeeach other, but both excellent in beauty. One might have been a modelfor the seraphs of Christian faith, the other an Olympian deity. 

For a few moments, Philothea stood in earnest silence, gazing upon thebright planet of evening--then, in a tone of deep enthusiasm, sheexclaimed:

"It is a night to feel the presence of the gods! Virgin sister ofPhoebus, how calm thou art in thy glorious beauty! Thou art filling theworld with music--silent to the ear, but audible to the heart! Phidiashas embodied the unbreathing harmony in stone, and we worship the fairproportions, as an emanation from the gods. The birds feel it--andwonder at the tune that makes no noise. The whole earth is lulled by itsinfluence. All is motionless; save the Naiades of the stream, moving inwreathed dance to the voiceless melody. See how their shining hairsparkles on the surface of the waters! Surely there is music in thislight! Eudora, what is it within us, that listens where there is nosound? Is it thus we shall hear in Elysium?"

In a subdued and troubled voice, her companion answered, "Oh, Philothea, when you talk thus, my spirit is in fear--and now, too, all is so stilland bright, that it seems as if the gods themselves were listening toour speech. "

"The same mysterious influence impresses me with awe, " replied thecontemplative maiden: "In such an hour as this, Plato must have receivedthe sublime thought, 'God is truth--and light is his shadow. '"

Eudora drew more closely to her friend, and said, timidly: "Oh, Philothea, do not talk of the gods. Such discourse has a strange andfearful power, when the radiant daughter of Zeus is looking down upon usin all her heavenly majesty. Even the midnight procession of thePanathenæa affected me less deeply. "

After a few moments of serious silence, she continued: "I saw it lastnight, for the first time since my childhood; for you know I was veryill when the festival was last celebrated. It was truly a beautiful andmajestic scene! The virgins all clothed in white; the heifers decoratedwith garlands; the venerable old men bearing branches of olive; theglittering chariots; the noble white horses, obeying the curb with suchproud impatience; the consecrated image of Pallas carried aloft on itsbed of flowers; the sacred ship blazing with gems and gold; all movingin the light of a thousand torches! Then the music, so loud andharmonious! It seemed as if all Athens joined in the mighty sound. Idistinguished you in the procession; and I almost envied you theprivilege of embroidering the sacred peplus, and being six long monthsin the service of Pallas Athenæ. I have had so much to say since youreturned, and Phidias has so many guests, that I have found little timeto ask concerning the magnificent sights you saw within the Acropolis. "

"The night would wear away, ere I could describe all I witnessed withinthe walls of the Parthenon alone, " rejoined her companion: "There is thesilver-footed throne, on which Xerxes sat, while he watched the battleof Salamis; the scimitar of Mardonius, captured at Platææ; a beautifulivory Persephone, on a pedestal of pure gold; and a Methymnean lyre, said to have belonged to Terpander himself, who you know was the firstthat used seven strings. Victorious wreaths, coins, rings, and gobletsof shining gold, are there without number; and Persian couches, andEgyptian sphynxes, and--", "What do you find so interesting beyond the walls?" asked Eudora, smiling at the earnestness with which her friend gazed in the distance:"Do the slaves, bringing water from the Fountain of Callirhöe, look sovery beautiful in the moonlight?"

"I marvel that you can speak so lightly, " replied Philothea: "We have asyet heard no tidings concerning the decision in the Court of Cynosarges, on which the fate of Philæmon depends; and you know how severely hishigh spirit will suffer, if an unfavourable sentence is awarded. Neitherof us have alluded to this painful topic. But why have we thus lingeredon the house-top, if it were not to watch for the group which, if Imistake not, are now approaching, on their return from Cynosarges?"

"Then it is for Philæmon's sake, that you have so long been lookingwistfully toward the Illyssus?" said Eudora, playfully. 

"I will not deny that Paralus has had the largest share of my thoughts, "replied the simple-hearted maiden; "but for Philæmon, as your betrothedlover, and the favourite pupil of my grandfather, I feel an intereststrong enough to keep me on the watch during a less delightful eveningthan this. I think it must be Paralus who walks in the centre of thegroup; we have been separated many months; and courtesy to the numerousstrangers under his father's roof has prevented our having muchdiscourse to-day. For his sake, I am glad once more to be in my ownhappy home. He is none the less dear to me because I know that he cannever be my husband. "

"And why should he not?" exclaimed Eudora: "The blood of princes flowedin the veins of your ancestors. If Anaxagoras is poor, it is because hehas preferred wisdom to gold. "

With a faint sigh, Philothea answered, "Had the good old man preferredgold to wisdom, I should have loved him less; nor would his instructionshave made me such a wife as Paralus deserves; yet Pericles would havebetter liked the union. He has obtained from his son a solemn promisenever to speak to me of marriage. The precaution was unnecessary; forsince this new law has passed, I would not marry Paralus, even with hisfather's consent. I would never be the means of bringing degradation andlosses upon him. "

"If you still love Paralus, I wonder you can be so quiet and cheerful, "said Eudora. 

"I wished him to make the required promise, because obedience to parentsis our first duty, " replied Philothea; "and had I thought otherwise, thelaws compel it. But the liberty of loving Paralus, no power can takefrom me; and in that I find sufficient happiness. I am bound to him byties stronger than usually bind the hearts of women. My kind grandfatherhas given me an education seldom bestowed on daughters; and from ourchildhood, Paralus and I have shared the same books, the same music, andthe same thoughts, until our souls seem to be one. When I am very happy, I always see a peculiar brightness on his countenance; and when I ampowerfully impressed by any of the fair sights of this beautiful world, or by those radiant deities who live among the stars, often, before Ican speak my thoughts, he utters my very words. I sometimes think thegods have united human beings by some mysterious principle, like theaccording notes of music. Or is it as Plato has supposed, that soulsoriginally one have been divided, and each seeks the half it has lost?Eudora, if you consider how generally maidens are bestowed in marriagewithout consulting their affections, you must confess that you havereason to feel deeply grateful for your own lot. "

"Yet this new law against those of foreign parentage, renders marriagewith me as dishonourable as with you, " rejoined the maiden: "Nay, it ismuch more so; for I am a slave, though, by courtesy, they do not call meone. "

"But Philæmon has no parents to forbid his choice, " said Philothea;"and if the court decide against him, he will incur no fine by amarriage with you; for he himself will then be a sojourner in Athens. The loss of his paternal estates will indeed leave him poor; but he hasfriends to assist his own energies, and in all probability, your unionwill not be long delayed. Ah, now I am certain that Anaxagorasapproaches, with Paralus and Philæmon. They perceive us; but Paralusdoes not wave his hand, as he promised to do, if they brought goodtidings. "

Without appearing to share her anxiety, Eudora carelessly inquired, "Didyou witness the Festival of Torches, while you were within theAcropolis? The swiftness of the runners, moving in the light of theirown torches, making statues and temples ruddy with the glow as theypassed, was truly a beautiful sight. I suppose you heard that Alcibiadesgained the prize? With what graceful celerity he darted through thecourse! I was at Aspasia's house that evening. It is so near the goal, that we could plainly see his countenance flushed with excitement andexercise, as he stood waving his unextinguished torch in triumph. "

"I am sorry Phidias considers improvement in music of sufficientconsequence to encourage your visits to that dangerous woman, " answeredPhilothea: "It was an unpropitious day for Athens when she came here toinvest vice with all the allurements of beauty and eloquence. "

"I think women should judge kindly of Aspasia's faults, and rememberthat they are greatly exaggerated by her enemies, " rejoined Eudora; "forshe proves that they are fit for something better than mere domesticslaves. Her house is the only one in all Greece where women are allowedto be present at entertainments. What is the use of a beautiful face, ifone must be shut up in her own apartment for ever? And what avails skillin music, if there is no chance to display it? I confess that I like thecustoms Aspasia is trying to introduce. "

"And I should like them, if I believed they would make the Grecian womensomething _better_ than mere domestic slaves, " said Philothea; "but suchas Aspasia will never raise women out of the bondage in which they areplaced by the impurity and selfishness of man. Your own confessions, Eudora, do not speak well for her instructions. Why should atrue-hearted woman wish to display her beautiful face, or her skill inmusic, to any but those on whom her affections are bestowed?"

"It is natural to wish for admiration, " replied the handsome maiden:"The goddesses themselves contended for it. You, at least, ought not tojudge Aspasia harshly; for she has the idea that you are some deity indisguise; and she has the most extravagant desire to see you. "

"Flattery to ourselves does not change the nature of what is wrong, "answered Philothea. "Pericles has more than once mentioned Aspasia'swish that I should visit her; but nothing short of my grandfather'sexpress command will ever induce me to do it. Our friends are nowentering the gate. Let us go to welcome them. "

Eudora hastily excused herself under the plea of duties at home; andPhilothea, supposing it might be painful to meet her unfortunate loverin the presence of others, forebore to urge it. 

A paternal blessing beamed from the countenance of Anaxagoras, themoment Philothea appeared. Paralus greeted her as a brother welcomes acherished sister; but in the earnest kindness of his glance wasexpressed something more deep and heart-stirring than his words implied. 

Philæmon, though more thoughtful than usual, received his own andEudora's friend, with cheerful cordiality. His countenance had the frankand smiling expression of one who truly wishes well to all men, andtherefore sees everything reflected in forms of joy. His figure wasathletic, while his step and bearing indicated the promptitude anddecision of a man who acts spontaneously from his own convictions. 

Paralus, far from being effeminate, was distinguished for his dexterityand skill in all the manly sports of the gymnasium; but the purity ofhis complexion, and the peculiarly spiritual expression of his face, would have been deemed beautiful, even in a woman. The first he probablyderived from his mode of life; for, being a strict Pythagorean, he neverpartook of animal food. The last was the transparent medium ofinnocence, through which thoughts and affections continually showedtheir changing forms of life. 

In answer to her eager questions, Philothea soon learned that her fearshad prophesied aright concerning the decision of the court. Philæmonhad been unsuccessful; but the buoyant energy of his character did notyield even to temporary despondency. He spoke of his enemies withoutbitterness, and of his own prospects with confidence and hope. 

Philothea would have immediately gone to convey the tidings to herfriend, had not Philæmon early taken his leave, and passed through thegarden into the house of Phidias. 

Paralus remained until a late hour, alternately talking with thevenerable philosopher, and playing upon his flute, while Philothea sungthe songs they had learned together. 

In the course of conversation, Anaxagoras informed his child thatPericles particularly urged her attendance at Aspasia's next symposium. "I obey my grandfather, without a question, " she replied; "but I wouldmuch rather avoid this visit, if it were possible. "

"Such is likewise my wish, " rejoined the philosopher; "but Pericles hasplainly implied that he should be offended by refusal; it is thereforenecessary to comply with his request. "

The maiden looked doubtingly at her lover, as if she deemed hissanction necessary; and the inquiring glance was answered by anaffectionate smile. "I need not repeat my thoughts and feelings withregard to Aspasia, " said Paralus, "for you know them well; but for manyreasons it is not desirable that an estrangement should take placebetween my father and Anaxagoras. Since, therefore, it has pleasedPericles to insist upon it, I think the visit had better be made. Youneed not fear any very alarming innovation upon the purity of ancientmanners. Even Aspasia will reverence you, "

Philothea meekly yielded to the opinion of her friends; and it wasdecided that, on the evening after the morrow, she should accompany hergrandfather to Aspasia's dwelling. 

Before proceeding farther, it is necessary to relate the situation ofthe several characters introduced in this chapter. 

Anaxagoras had been the tutor of Pericles, and still retainedconsiderable influence over him; but there were times when thestraightforward sincerity, and uncompromising integrity of the old manwere somewhat offensive and troublesome to his ambitious pupil. For thegreat Athenian statesman, like modern politicians, deemed honestyexcellent in theory, and policy safe in practice. Thus admitting theabsurd proposition that principles entirely false and corrupt in theabstract are more salutary, in their practical manifestation, thanprinciples essentially good and true. 

While Pericles was determined to profit by diseases of the state, thephilosopher was anxious to cure them; therefore, independently ofpersonal affection and gratitude, he was willing to make slightconcessions, in order to retain some influence over his illustriouspupil. 

The celebrated Aspasia was an elegant and voluptuous Ionian, whosucceeded admirably in pleasing the good taste of the Athenians, whileshe ministered to their vanity and their vices. The wise and goodlamented the universal depravity of manners, sanctioned by herinfluence; but a people so gay, so ardent, so intensely enamoured of thebeautiful, readily acknowledged the sway of an eloquent and fascinatingwoman, who carefully preserved the appearance of decorum. Like theGabrielles and Pompadours of modern times, Aspasia obtained presentadmiration and future fame, while hundreds of better women wereneglected and forgotten. The crowds of wealthy and distinguished men whogathered around her, were profuse in their flattery, and munificent intheir gifts; and Pericles so far yielded to her influence, that hedivorced his wife and married her. 

Philæmon was at that time on terms of intimacy with the illustriousorator; and he earnestly remonstrated against this union, as alikedisgraceful to Pericles and injurious to public morals. By this advicehe incurred the inveterate dislike of Aspasia; who never rested from herefforts until she had persuaded her husband to procure the revival of anancient law, by which all citizens who married foreigners, weresubjected to a heavy fine; and all persons, whose parents were not bothAthenians, were declared incapable of voting in the public assemblies, or of inheriting the estates of their fathers. Pericles the morereadily consented to this, because such a law at once deprived manypolitical enemies of power. Philæmon was the son of Chærilaüs, awealthy Athenian; but his mother had been born in Corinth, thoughbrought to Athens during childhood. It was supposed that this lattercircumstance, added to the patriotism of his family and his own moralexcellence, would prevent the application of the law in his individualcase. But Alcibiades, for reasons unknown to the public, united hisinfluence with that of Aspasia; and their partizans were active andpowerful. When the case was tried in the court of illegitimacy atCynosarges, Philæmon was declared a sojourner in Athens, incapable ofholding any office, and dispossessed of his paternal inheritance. 

Eudora was a mere infant when Phidias bought her of a poor goatherd inPhelle. The child was sitting upon a rock, caressing a kid, when thesculptor first saw her, and the gracefulness of her attitude attractedhis attention, while her innocent beauty touched his heart. She and hernurse had been stolen from the Ionian coast, by Greek pirates. The nursewas sold into slavery, and the babe delivered by one of the pirates tothe care of his mother. The little creature, in her lisping way, calledherself baby Minta; and this appellation she retained, until Phidiasgave her the name of Eudora. 

Philothea, the orphan daughter of Alcimenes, son of Anaxagoras, was ayear or two older than Eudora. She was brought to Athens, at about thesame period; and as they resided very near each other, the habitualintercourse of childhood naturally ripened into mature friendship. Nointerruption of this constant intimacy occurred, until Philothea wasappointed one of the Canephoræ, whose duty it was to embroider thesacred peplus, and to carry baskets in the grand procession of thePanathenæa. Six months of complete seclusion within the walls of theAcropolis, were required of the Canephoræ. During this protractedabsence, Aspasia persuaded Phidias to bring Eudora frequently to herhouse; and her influence insensibly produced a great change in thatyoung person, whose character was even more flexile than her form. 

CHAPTER II. 

 "With grace divine her soul is blest, And heavenly Pallas breathes within her breast; In wonderous arts than woman more renowned, And more than woman with deep wisdom crowned. HOMER. 

It was the last market hour of Athens, when Anaxagoras, Philothea, andEudora, accompanied by Geta, the favourite slave of Phidias, steppedforth into the street, on their way to Aspasia's residence. 

Loud shouts of laughter came from the agoras, and the whole air wasfilled with the hum of a busy multitude. Groups of citizens lingeredabout the porticos; Egyptians, Medians, Sicilians, and strangers fromall the neighbouring States of Greece, thronged the broad avenue of thePiræus; women, carrying upon their heads olive jars, baskets of grapes, and vases of water, glided among the crowd, with that majestic motion sopeculiar to the peasantry in countries where this custom prevails. 

Philothea drew the folds of her veil more closely, and clung timidly toher venerable protector. But neither this, nor increasing twilight, could screen the graceful maidens from observation. Athenians lookedback as they passed, and foreigners paused to inquire their name andparentage. 

In a few moments they were under the walls of the Acropolis, walking inthe shadow of the olive groves, among god-like statues, to which thegathering obscurity of evening gave an impressive distinctness--as ifthe light departing from the world, stood petrified in marble. 

Thence they entered the inner Ceramicus, where Aspasia resided. Thebuilding, like all the private houses of Athens, had a plain exterior, strongly contrasted by the magnificence of surrounding temples, andporticos. At the gate, an image of Hermes looked toward the harbour, while Phoebus, leaning on his lyre, appeared to gaze earnestly at thedwelling. 

A slave, stationed near the door, lighted the way to the apartment whereAspasia was reclining, with a Doric harp by her side, on which she hadjust been playing. The first emotion she excited was surprise at theradiant and lucid expression, which mantled her whole face, and made thevery blood seem eloquent. In her large dark eye the proud consciousnessof intellect was softened only by melting voluptuousness; but somethingof sadness about her beautiful mouth gave indication that the heavenlypart of her nature still struggled with earth-born passions. 

A garland of golden leaves, with large drops of pearl, was interwovenamong the glossy braids of her hair, and rested on her forehead. 

She wore a robe of rich Milesian purple, the folds of which wereconfined on one shoulder within a broad ring of gold, curiously wrought;on the other they were fastened by a beautiful cameo, representing thehead of Pericles. The crimson couch gave a soft flush to the cheek andsnowy arm that rested on it; and, for a moment, even Philothea yieldedto the enchantment of her beauty. 

Full of smiles, Aspasia rose and greeted Eudora, with the ease andgracefulness of one long accustomed to homage; but when the venerablephilosopher introduced his child, she felt the simple purity emanatingfrom their characters, and something of embarrassment mingled with herrespectful salutation. 

Her own face was uncovered, contrary to the custom of Grecian women; andafter a few of those casual remarks which everywhere serve to fill upthe pauses in conversation, she playfully seized Eudora's veil, andthrew it back over her shoulders. She would have done the same toPhilothea; but the maiden placed her hand on the half transparentcovering, and said, "With your leave, lady, I remain veiled. "

"But I cannot give my leave, " rejoined Aspasia, playfully, still keepingher hold upon the veil: "I must see this tyrannical custom done away inthe free commonwealth of Athens. All the matrons who visit my houseagree with me in this point; all are willing to renounce the absurdfashion. "

"But in a maiden it would be less seemly, " answered Philothea. 

Thus resisted, Aspasia appealed to Anaxagoras to exert his authority;adding, in an audible whisper, "Phidias has told me that she is aslovely as the immortals. "

With a quiet smile, the aged philosopher replied, "My child must beguided by her own heart. The gods have there placed an oracle, whichnever misleads or perplexes those who listen to it. "

Aspasia continued, "From what I had heard of you, Philothea, I expectedto find you above the narrow prejudices of Grecian women. In _you_ I wassure of a mind strong enough to break the fetters of habit. Tell me, mybashful maiden, why is beauty given us, unless it be like sunlight tobless and gladden the world?"

"Lady, " replied the gentle recluse, "beauty is given to remind us thatthe soul should be kept as fair and perfect in its proportions, as thetemple in which it dwells. "

"You are above ordinary women, " said Aspasia; "for you hear me allude toyour beauty without affecting to contradict me, and apparently withoutpleasure. "

The sound of voices in earnest conversation announced the approach ofPericles with visiters. "Come to my room for a few moments, " saidAspasia, addressing the maidens: "I have just received a magnificentpresent, which I am sure Eudora will admire. As she spoke, she led theway to an upper apartment. When they opened the door, a soft light shoneupon them from a lamp, which a marble Psyche shaded with her hand, asshe bent over the couch of Eros. 

"Now that we are quite sure of being uninterrupted, you cannot refuse toraise your veil, " said Aspasia. 

Simply and naturally, the maiden did as she was desired; without anyemotion of displeasure or exultation at the eager curiosity of herhostess. 

For an instant, Aspasia stood rebuked and silent, in the presence ofthat serene and holy beauty. 

With deep feeling she exclaimed, "Maiden, Phidias spoke truly. Eventhus do we imagine the immortals!"

A faint blush gleamed on Philothea's face; for her meek spirit waspained by a comparison with things divine; but it passed rapidly; andher whole soul became absorbed in the lovely statues before her. 

Eudora's speaking glance seemed to say, "I knew her beauty wouldsurprise you!" and then, with the eager gayety of a little child, shebegan to examine the gorgeous decorations of the room. 

The couch rested on two sphinxes of gold and ivory, over which thepurple drapery fell in rich and massive folds. In one corner, a pedestalof Egyptian marble supported an alabaster vase, on the edge of whichwere two doves, exquisitely carved, one just raising his head, the otherstooping to drink. On a similar stand, at the other side, stood apeacock, glittering with many coloured gems. The head lowered upon thebreast formed the handle; while here and there, among the brilliant tailfeathers, appeared a languid flame slowly burning away the perfumed oil, with which the bird was filled. 

Eudora clapped her hands, with an exclamation of delight. "That is thepresent of which I spoke, " said Aspasia, smiling: "It was sent byArtaphernes, the Persian, who has lately come to Athens to buy picturesand statues for the great king. "

As Philothea turned towards her companion, she met Aspasia's earnestgaze. "Had you forgotten where you were?" she asked. 

"No, lady, I could not forget that, " replied the maiden. As she spoke, she hastily withdrew her eyes from an immodest picture, on which theyhad accidentally rested; and, blushing deeply, she added, "But there issomething so life-like in that slumbering marble, that for a moment Ialmost feared Eudora would waken it. "

"You will not look upon the picture, " rejoined Aspasia; "yet it relatesa story of one of the gods you reverence so highly. I am told you are adevout believer in these fables?"

"When fiction is the robe of truth, I worship it for what it covers, "replied Philothea; "but I love not the degrading fables which poets havemade concerning divine beings. Such were not the gods of Solon; for suchthe wise and good can never be, in this world or another. "

"Then you believe in a future existence?" said Aspasia, with anincredulous smile. 

With quiet earnestness, Philothea answered:--"Lady, the simple fact thatthe human soul has ever _thought_ of another world, is sufficient proofthat there is one; for how can an idea be formed by mortals, unless ithas first existed in the divine mind?"

"A reader of Plato, I perceive!" exclaimed Aspasia: "They told me Ishould find you pure and child-like; with a soul from which poetrysparkled, like moonlight on the waters. I did not know that wisdom andphilosophy lay concealed in its depths. "

"Is there any other wisdom, than true simplicity and innocence?" askedthe maiden. 

With a look of delighted interest, Aspasia took her arm familiarly;saying, "You and I must be friends. I shall not grow weary of you, as Ido of other women. Not of you, dearest, " she added in an under tone, tapping Eudora's cheek. "You must come here constantly, Philothea. Though I am aware, " continued she, smiling, "that it is bad policy forme to seek a guest who will be sure to eclipse me. "

"Pardon me, lady, " said Philothea, gently disengaging herself:"Friendship cannot be without sympathy. "

A sudden flush of anger suffused Aspasia's countenance; and Eudoralooked imploringly at her friend, as she said, "You love _me_, Philothea; and I am sure we are very different. "

"I crave pardon, " interrupted Aspasia, with haughty impatience. "Ishould have remembered that the conversation prized by Pericles andPlato, might appear contemptible, to this youthful Pallas, who soproudly seeks to conceal her precious wisdom from ears profane. "

"Lady, you mistake me, " answered Philothea, mildly: "Your intellect, your knowledge, are as far above mine, as the radiant stars are abovethe flowers of the field. Besides, I never felt contempt for anything towhich the gods had given life. It is impossible for me to despise you;but I pity you. "

"Pity!" exclaimed Aspasia, in a piercing tone, which made both themaidens start. "Am I not the wife of Pericles, and the friend of Plato?Has not Phidias modelled his Aphrodite from my form? Is there in allGreece a poet who has not sung my praises? Is there an artist who hasnot paid me tribute? Phoenicia sends me her most splendid manufacturesand her choicest slaves; Egypt brings her finest linen and her metals ofcurious workmanship; while Persia unrolls her silks, and pours out hergems at my feet. To the remotest period of time, the world, --aye, the_world_, --maiden, will hear of Aspasia, the beautiful and the gifted!"

For a moment, Philothea looked on her, silently and meekly, as she stoodwith folded arms, flushed brow, and proudly arched neck. Then, in asoft, sad voice, she answered: "Aye, lady--but will your spirit _hear_the echo of your fame, as it rolls back from the now silent shores ofdistant ages?"

"You utter nonsense!" said Aspasia, abruptly: "There is no immortalitybut fame. In history, the star of my existence will never set--but shinebrilliantly and forever in the midst of its most gloriousconstellation!"

After a brief pause, Philothea resumed: "But when men talk of Aspasiathe beautiful and the gifted, will they add, Aspasia the good--thehappy--the innocent?"

The last word was spoken in a low, emphatic tone. A slight quiveringabout Aspasia's lips betrayed emotion crowded back upon the heart; whileEudora bowed her head, in silent confusion, at the bold admonition ofher friend. 

With impressive kindness, the maiden continued: "Daughter of Axiochus, do you never suspect that the homage you receive is half made up ofselfishness and impurity? This boasted power of intellect--this giddytriumph of beauty--what do they do for you? Do they make you happy inthe communion of your own heart? Do they bring you nearer to the gods?Do they make the memory of your childhood a gladness, or a sorrow?"

Aspasia sank on the couch, and bowed her head upon her hands. For a fewmoments, the tears might be seen stealing through her fingers; whileEudora, with the ready sympathy of a warm heart, sobbed aloud. 

Aspasia soon recovered her composure. "Philothea, " she said, "you havespoken to me as no one ever dared to speak; but my own heart hassometimes uttered the truth less mildly. Yesterday I learned the samelesson from a harsher voice. A Corinthian sailor pointed at this house, and said, 'There dwells Aspasia, the courtezan, who makes her wealth bythe corruption of Athens!' My very blood boiled in my veins, that suchan one as he could give me pain. It is true the illustrious Pericles hasmade me his wife; but there are things which even his power, and my ownallurements, fail to procure. Ambitious women do indeed come here tolearn how to be distinguished; and the vain come to study the fashion ofmy garments, and the newest braid of my hair. But the purest and bestmatrons of Greece refuse to be my guests. You, Philothea, camereluctantly--and because Pericles would have it so. Yes, " she added, thetears again starting to her eyes--"I know the price at which I purchasecelebrity. Poets will sing of me at feasts, and orators describe me atthe games; but what will that be to me, when I have gone into the silenttomb? Like the lifeless guest at Egyptian tables, Aspasia will be allunconscious of the garlands she wears. 

"Philothea, you think me vain, and heartless, and wicked; and so I am. But there are moments when I am willing that this tongue, so praised forits eloquence, should be dumb forever--that this beauty, which menworship, should be hidden in the deepest recesses of barbarianforests--so that I might again be as I was, when the sky was clothed inperpetual glory, and the earth wore not so sad a smile as now. Oh, Philothea! would to the gods, I had your purity and goodness! But youdespise me;--for you are innocent. "

Soothingly, and almost tearfully, the maiden replied: "No, lady; suchwere not the feelings which made me say we could not be friends. It isbecause we have chosen different paths; and paths that never approacheach other. What to you seem idle dreams, are to me sublime realities, for which I would gladly exchange all that you prize in existence. Youlive for immortality in this world; I live for immortality in another. The public voice is your oracle; I listen to the whisperings of the godsin the stillness of my own heart; and never yet, dear lady, have thosetwo oracles spoken the same language. "

Then falling on her knees, and looking up earnestly, she exclaimed, "Beautiful and gifted one! Listen to the voice that tries to win youback to innocence and truth! Give your heart up to it, as a little childled by its mother's hand! Then shall the flowers again breathe poetry, and the stars move in music. "

"It is too late, " murmured Aspasia: "The flowers are scorched--the starsare clouded. I cannot again be as I have been. "

"Lady, it is _never_ too late, " replied Philothea: "You have unboundedinfluence--use it nobly! No longer seek popularity by flattering thevanity, or ministering to the passions of the Athenians. Let young menhear the praise of virtue from the lips of beauty. Let them see religionmarried to immortal genius. Tell them it is ignoble to barter theheart's wealth for heaps of coin--that love weaves a simple wreath ofhis own bright hopes, stronger than massive chains of gold. UrgePericles to prize the good of Athens more than the applause of itspopulace--to value the permanence of her free institutions more than thesplendour of her edifices. Oh, lady, never, never, had any mortal suchpower to do good!"

Aspasia sat gazing intently on the beautiful speaker, whose tones grewmore and more earnest as she proceeded. 

"Philothea, " she replied, "you have moved me strangely. There is aboutyou an influence that cannot be resisted. It is like what Pindar says ofmusic; if it does not give delight, it is sure to agitate and oppressthe heart. From the first moment you spoke, I have felt this mysteriouspower. It is as if some superior being led me back, even against mywill, to the days of my childhood, when I gathered acorns from theancient oak that shadows the fountain of Byblis, or ran about on thebanks of my own beloved Meander, filling my robe with flowers. "

There was silence for a moment. Eudora smiled through her tears, as shewhispered, "Now, Philothea, sing that sweet song Anaxagoras taught you. He too is of Ionia; and Aspasia will love to hear it. "

The maiden answered with a gentle smile, and began to warble the firstnotes of a simple bird-like song. 

"Hush!" said Aspasia, putting her hand on Philothea's mouth, andbursting into tears--"It was the first tune I ever learned; and I havenot heard it since my mother sung it to me. "

"Then let me sing it, lady, " rejoined Philothea: "It is good for us tokeep near our childhood. In leaving it, we wander from the gods. "

A slight tap at the door made Aspasia start up suddenly; and stoopingover the alabaster vase of water, she hastened to remove all traces ofher tears. 

As Eudora opened the door, a Byzantian slave bowed low, and waitedpermission to speak. 

"Your message?" said Aspasia, with queenly brevity. 

"If it please you, lady, my master bids me say he desires yourpresence. "

"We come directly, " she replied; and with another low bow, the Byzantianclosed the door. Before a mirror of polished steel, supported by ivoryGraces, Aspasia paused to adjust the folds of her robe, and replace acurl that had strayed from its golden fillet. 

As she passed, she continued to look back at the reflection of her ownfair form, with a proud glance, which seemed to say, "Aspasia is herselfagain!"

Philothea took Eudora's arm, and folding her veil about her, with a deepsigh followed to the room below. 

CHAPTER III. 

 All is prepared--the table and the feast-- With due appurtenance of clothes and cushions. Chaplets and dainties of all kinds abound: Here rich perfumes are seen--there cakes and cates Of every fashion; cakes of honey, cakes Of sesamum, and cakes of unground corn. What more? A troop of dancing women fair, And minstrels who may chaunt us sweet Harmodius. ARISTOPHANES. 

The room in which the guests were assembled, was furnished with less ofAsiatic splendour than the private apartment of Aspasia; but in itsmagnificent simplicity there was a more perfect manifestation of idealbeauty. It was divided in the middle by eight Ionic columns, alternatelyof Phrygian and Pentelic marble. Between the central pillars stood asuperb statue from the hand of Phidias, representing Aphrodite guided byLove, and crowned by Peitho, goddess of Persuasion. Around the wallswere Phoebus and Hermes in Parian marble, and the nine Muses in ivory. Afountain of perfumed water, from the adjoining room, diffused coolnessand fragrance, as it passed through a number of concealed pipes, andfinally flowed into a magnificent vase, supported by a troop of Naiades. 

In a recess stood the famous lion of Myron, surrounded by infant Loves, playing with his paws, climbing his back, and decorating his neck withgarlands. This beautiful group seemed actually to live and move in theclear light and deep shadows derived from a silver lamp suspended above. 

The walls were enriched with some of the choicest paintings ofApollodorus, Zeuxis, and Polygnotus. Near a fine likeness of Pericles, by Aristolaus, was Aspasia, represented as Chloris scattering flowersover the earth, and attended by winged Hours. 

It chanced that Pericles himself reclined beneath his portrait, andthough political anxiety had taken from his countenance something of thecheerful freshness which characterized the picture, he still retainedthe same elevated beauty--the same deep, quiet expression ofintellectual power. At a short distance, with his arm resting on thecouch, stood his nephew Alcibiades, deservedly called the handsomest manin Athens. He was laughing with Hermippus, the comic writer, whoseshrewd, sarcastic and mischievous face was expressive of his calling. Phidias slowly paced the room, talking of the current news with thePersian Artaphernes. Anaxagoras reclined near the statue of Aphrodite, listening and occasionally speaking to Plato, who leaned against one ofthe marble pillars, in earnest conversation with a learned Ethiopian. 

The gorgeous apparel of the Asiatic and African guests, contrastedstrongly with the graceful simplicity of Grecian costume. Asaffron-coloured mantle and a richly embroidered Median vest glitteredon the person of the venerable Artaphernes. Tithonus, the Ethiopian, wore a skirt of ample folds, which scarcely fell below the knee. It wasof the glorious Tyrian hue, resembling a crimson light shining throughtransparent purple. The edge of the garment was curiously wrought withgolden palm leaves. It terminated at the waist in a large roll, twinedwith massive chains of gold, and fastened by a clasp of the far-famedEthiopian topaz. The upper part of his person was uncovered andunornamented, save by broad bracelets of gold, which formed amagnificent contrast with the sable colour of his vigorous andfinely-proportioned limbs. 

As the ladies entered, the various groups came forward to meet them; andall were welcomed by Aspasia with earnest cordiality and gracefulself-possession. While the brief salutations were passing, Hipparete, the wife of Alcibiades came from an inner apartment, where she had beenwaiting for her hostess. She was a fair, amiable young matron, evidentlyconscious of her high rank. The short blue tunic, which she wore over alemon-coloured robe, was embroidered with golden grasshoppers; and onher forehead sparkled a jewelled insect of the same species. It was theemblem of unmixed Athenian blood; and Hipparete alone, of all the ladiespresent, had a right to wear it. Her manners were an elaborate copy ofAspasia; but deprived of the powerful charm of unconsciousness, whichflowed like a principle of life into every motion of that beautifulenchantress. 

The momentary silence, so apt to follow introductions, was interruptedby an Ethiopian boy, who, at a signal from Tithonus, emerged from behindthe columns, and kneeling, presented to Aspasia a beautiful box ofivory, inlaid with gold, filled with the choicest perfumes. The ladyacknowledged the costly offering by a gracious smile, and a low bend ofthe head toward the giver. 

The ivory was wrought with exquisite skill, representing the imaginaryforms of the constellations, studded with golden stars. The whole restedon a golden image of Atlas, bending beneath the weight. The box waspassed from hand to hand, and excited universal admiration. 

"Were these figures carved by an artist of your own country?" askedPhidias. 

With a smile, Tithonus replied, "You ask the question because you see aGrecian spirit in those forms. They were indeed fashioned by anEthiopian; but one who had long resided in Athens. "

"There is truly a freedom and variety in these figures, which I haverarely seen even in Greece, " rejoined Phidias; "and I have never metwith those characteristics in Ethiopian or Egyptian workmanship. "

"They belong not to the genius of those countries, " answered Tithonus:"Philosophy and the arts are but a manifestation of the intelligibleideas that move the public mind; and thus they become visible images ofthe nations whence they emanate. The philosophy of the East is misty andvast--with a gleam of truth here and there, resting like sunlight on theedge of a dark and mighty cloud. Hence, our architecture and statuary ismassive and of immense proportions. Greece is free--therefore she has aphilosopher, who sees that every idea must have a form, and in everyform discovers its appropriate life. And because philosophy hasperceived that the principle of vitality and beauty flows from thedivine mind into each and every earthly thing, therefore Greece has asculptor, who can mould his thoughts into marble forms, from which thefree grandeur of the soul emanates like a perpetual presence. " As hespoke, he bowed low to Plato and Phidias. 

"The gigantic statues of Sicily have fair proportions, " said Plato; "andthey have life; but it is life in deep repose. There is the vastness ofeternity, without the activity of time. "

"The most ancient statuary of all nations is an image of death; not ofsleeping energy, " observed Aspasia. "The arms adhere rigidly to thesides, the feet form one block; and even in the face, the divine idealseems struggling hard to enter the reluctant form. But thanks toPygmalion of Cyprus, we now have the visible impress of every passioncarved in stone. The spirit of beauty now flows freely into theharmonious proportions, even as the oracle is filled by the inspirationof the god. Now the foot bounds from the pedestal, the finger points tothe stars, and life breathes from every limb. But in good time theLybian pipe warns us that the feast is ready. We must not soar too farabove the earth, while she offers us the rich treasures of herfruit-trees and vines. "

"Yet it is ever thus, when Plato is with us, " exclaimed Pericles. "Hewalks with his head among the stars--and, by a magic influence, we riseto his elevation, until we perceive the shadows of majestic worlds, known in their reality only to the gods. As the approach of Phoebusfills the priestess with prophecy, so does this son of Phoebus impartsomething of his own eloquence to all who come within its power. "

"You speak truly, O Pericles, " replied Tithonus; "but it is a truth feltonly by those who are in some measure worthy to receive it. Aspasiasaid wisely, that the spirit of beauty flows in, only where theproportions are harmonious. The gods are ever with us, but few feel thepresence of the gods. "

Philothea, speaking in a low tone to Eudora, added, "And Plato rejoicesin their glorious presence, not only because he walks with his headamong the stars, but because he carries in his heart a blessing forevery little child. "

These words, though spoken almost in a whisper, reached the ear of thephilosopher himself; and he turned toward the lovely speaker with abeaming glance, which distinctly told that his choicest blessings werebestowed upon spirits pure and gentle as her own. 

Thus conversing, the guests passed between the marble columns, andentered that part of the room where the banquet was prepared. Aspasiafilled a golden basket with Athenian olives, Phoenician dates, andalmonds of Naxos, and whispering a brief invocation, placed it on asmall altar, before an ivory image of Demeter, which stood in the midstof the table. Seats covered with crimson cloth were arranged at the endof the couches, for the accommodation of women; but the men reclined inAsiatic fashion, while beautiful damsels sprinkled perfumes on theirheads, and offered water for their hands in vases of silver. 

In choosing one to preside over the festivities of the evening, the lotfell upon Tithonus; but he gracefully declined the office, saying itproperly belonged to an Athenian. 

"Then I must insist that you appoint your successor, " said Aspasia. 

"Your command partakes little of the democracy of Athenianinstitutions, " answered he, smiling; "but I obey it cheerfully; andwill, as most fitting, crown the wisest. " He arose, as he spoke, andreverently placed the chaplet on the head of Plato. 

"I will transfer it to the most beautiful, " rejoined the philosopher;and he attempted to place the garland on the brow of Alcibiades. But theyoung man prevented him, and exclaimed, "Nay--according to your owndoctrines, O admirable Plato, wisdom should wear the crown; since beautyis but its outward form. "

Thus urged, Plato accepted the honours of the banquet; and taking ahandful of garlands from the golden urn on which they were suspended, heproceeded to crown the guests. He first placed upon Aspasia's head awreath of bright and variegated flowers, among which the rose and themyrtle were most conspicuous. Upon Hipparete he bestowed a coronal ofviolets, regarded by the proud Athenians as their own peculiar flower. Philothea received a crown of pure white lilies. 

Aspasia, observing this, exclaimed, "Tell me, O Plato, how you knew thatwreath, above all the others, was woven for the grand-daughter ofAnaxagoras?"

"When I hear a note of music, can I not at once strike its chord?"answered the philosopher: "Even as surely is there an everlastingharmony between the soul of man and the visible forms of creation. Ifthere were no innocent hearts, there would be no white lilies. "

A shadow passed over Aspasia's expressive countenance; for she was awarethat her own brilliant wreath contained not one purely white blossom. But her features had been well-trained to conceal her sentiments; andher usual vivacity instantly returned. 

The remainder of the garlands were bestowed so rapidly, that thereseemed scarcely time for deliberate choice; yet Pericles wore the oakleaves sacred to Zeus; and the laurel and olive of Phoebus rested on thebrow of Phidias. 

A half mischievous smile played round Aspasia's lips, when she saw thewreath of ivy and grape leaves placed on the head of Alcibiades. "Son ofAristo, " she exclaimed, "the Phoenician Magii have given you good skillin divination. You have bestowed every garland appropriately. "

"It needed little magic, " replied Plato, "to know that the oaken leavesbelonged to one whose eloquence is so often called Olympian; or that thelaurel was due to him who fashioned Pallas Parthenia; and Alcibiadeswould no doubt contend boldly with any man who professed to worship thegod of vineyards with more zeal than himself. "

The gay Athenian answered this challenge by singing part of anAnacreontic ode, often repeated during the festivities of the Dionysia:

 "To-day I'll haste to quaff my wine, As if to-morrow ne'er should shine; But if to-morrow comes, why then-- I'll haste to quaff my wine again. 

 For death may come with brow unpleasant-- May come when least we wish him present, And beckon to the sable shore, And grimly bid us--drink no more!"

This profane song was sung in a voice so clear and melodious, thatTithonus exclaimed, "You err, O Plato, in saying the tuneful soul ofMarsyas has passed into the nightingale; for surely it remains with thisyoung Athenian. Son of Clinias, you must be well skilled in playing uponthe flute the divine airs of Mysian Olympus?"

"Not I, so help me Dionysus!" lisped Alcibiades. "My music master willtell you that I ever went to my pipes reluctantly. I make ten sacrificesto equestrian Poseidon, where I offer one gift to the Parnassianchorus. "

"Stranger, thou hast not yet learned the fashions of Athens, " saidAnaxagoras, gravely. "Our young equestrians now busy themselves withcarved chariots, and Persian mantles of the newest mode. They vie witheach other in costly wines; train doves to shower luxuriant perfumesfrom their wings; and upon the issue of a contest between fightingquails, they stake sums large enough to endow a princess. To play uponthe silver-voiced flute is Theban-like and vulgar. They leave that totheir slaves. "

"And why not leave laughter to the slaves?" asked Hermippus; "sinceanything more than a graceful smile distorts the beauty of the features?I suppose bright eyes would weep in Athens, should the cheeks ofAlcibiades be seen puffed out with vulgar wind-instruments. "

"And can you expect the youth of Athens to be wiser than their gods?"rejoined Aspasia. "Pallas threw away her favourite flute, because Heraand Aphrodite laughed at her distorted countenance while she played uponit. It was but a womanly trick in the virgin daughter of Zeus. "

Tithonus looked at the speaker with a slight expression of surprise;which Hermippus perceiving, he thus addressed him, in a cool, ironicaltone: "O Ethiopian stranger, it is evident you know little of Athens; oryou would have perceived that a belief in the gods is more vulgar thanflute-playing. Such trash is deemed fit for the imbecility of the aged, and the ignorance of the populace. With equestrians and philosophers, itis out of date. You must seek for it among those who sell fish at thegates; or with the sailors at Piræus and Phalerum. "

"I have visited the Temple of Poseidon, in the Piræus, " observedAspasia; "and I saw there a multitude of offerings from those who hadescaped shipwreck. " She paused slightly, and added, with a significantsmile, "But I perceived no paintings of those who had been wrecked, notwithstanding their supplications to the god. "

As she spoke, she observed that Pericles withdrew a rose from thegarland wherewith his cup was crowned; and though the action was soslight as to pass unobserved by others, she instantly understood thecaution he intended to convey by that emblem sacred to the god ofsilence. 

At a signal from Plato, slaves filled the goblets with wine, and he roseto propose the usual libation to the gods. Every Grecian guest joined inthe ceremony, singing in a recitative tone:

 Dionysus, this to thee, God of warm festivity! Giver of the fruitful vine, To thee we pour the rosy wine!

Music, from the adjoining room, struck in with the chorus, and continuedfor some moments after it had ceased. 

For a short time, the conversation was confined to the courtesies of thetable, as the guests partook of the delicious viands before them. Platoate olives and bread only; and the water he drank was scarcely tingedwith Lesbian wine. Alcibiades rallied him upon this abstemiousness; andPericles reminded him that even his great pattern, Socrates, gaveDionysus his dues, while he worshipped the heaven-born Pallas. 

The philosopher quietly replied, "I can worship the fiery God of Vintageonly when married with Nymphs of the Fountain. "

"But tell me, O Anaxagoras and Plato, " exclaimed Tithonus, "if, asHermippus hath said, the Grecian philosophers discard the theology ofthe poets? Do ye not believe in the Gods?"

Plato would have smiled, had he not reverenced the simplicity thatexpected a frank and honest answer to a question so dangerous. Anaxagoras briefly replied, that the mind which did not believe indivine beings, must be cold and dark indeed. 

"Even so, " replied Artiphernes, devoutly; "blessed be Oromasdes, whosends Mithras to warm and enlighten the world! But what surprises memost is, that you Grecians import new divinities from other countries, as freely as slaves, or papyrus, or marble. The sculptor of the godswill scarcely be able to fashion half their images. "

"If the custom continues, " rejoined Phidias, "it will indeed require alife-time as long as that conferred upon the namesake of Tithonus. "

"Thanks to the munificence of artists, every deity has a representativein my dwelling, " observed Aspasia. 

"I have heard strangers express their surprise that the Athenians havenever erected a statue to the principle of _Modesty_" said Hermippus. 

"So much the more need that we enshrine her image in our own hearts, "rejoined Plato. 

The sarcastic comedian made no reply to this quiet rebuke. Lookingtoward Artaphernes, he continued: "Tell me, O servant of the great king, wherein the people of your country are more wise in worshipping the sun, than we who represent the same divinity in marble!"

"The principles of the Persian religion are simple, steady, anduniform, " replied Artaphernes; "but the Athenian are always changing. You not only adopt foreign gods, but sometimes create new ones, andadmit them into your theology by solemn act of the great council. Thesecircumstances have led me to suppose that you worship them as mereforms. The Persian Magii do indeed prostrate themselves before therising Sun; but they do it in the name of Oromasdes, the universalPrinciple of Good, of whom that great luminary is the visible symbol. Inour solemn processions, the chariot sacred to Oromasdes precedes thehorse dedicated to Mithras; and there is deep meaning in thearrangement. The Sun and Zodiac, the Balance and the Rule, are butemblems of truths, mysterious and eternal. As the garlands we throw onthe sacred fire feed the flame, rather than extinguish it, so thesublime symbols of our religion are intended to preserve, not toconceal, the truths within them. "

"Though you disclaim all images of divinity, " rejoined Aspasia, "yet wehear of your Mithras pictured like a Persian King, trampling on aprostrate ox. "

With a smile, Artaphernes replied, "I see, lady, that you would faingain admittance to the Mithraic cave; but its secrets, like those ofyour own Eleusis, are concealed from all save the initiated. "

"They tell us, " said Aspasia, "that those who are admitted to theEleusinian mysteries die in peace, and go directly to the Elysianfields; while the uninitiated wander about in the infernal abyss. "

"Of course, " said Anaxagoras, "Alcibiades will go directly to Elysium, though Solon groped his way in darkness. "

The old philosopher uttered this with imperturbable gravity, as ifunconscious of satirical meaning; but some of the guests could scarcelyrepress a smile, as they recollected the dissolute life of the youngAthenian. 

"If Alcibiades spoke his real sentiments, " said Aspasia, "I venture tosay he would tell us that the mystic baskets of Demeter, covered withlong purple veils, contain nothing half so much worth seeing, as thebeautiful maidens who carry them. "

She looked at Pericles, and saw that he again cautioned her, by raisingthe rose toward his face, as if inhaling its fragrance. 

There was a brief pause, which Anaxagoras interrupted, by saying, "Thewise can never reverence images merely as images. There is a mysticalmeaning in the Athenian manner of supplicating the gods with garlands ontheir heads, and bearing in their hands boughs of olive twined withwool. Pallas, at whose birth we are told gold rained upon the earth, wasunquestionably a personification of wisdom. It is not to be supposedthat the philosophers of our country consider the sun itself as anythingmore than a huge ball of fire; but the sight of that glorious orb leadsthe contemplative soul to the belief in one Pure Intelligence, oneUniversal Mind, which in manifesting itself produces order in thematerial world, and preserves the unconfused distinction of infinitevarieties. "

"Such, no doubt, is the tendency of all reflecting minds, " said Phidias;"but in general, the mere forms are worshipped, apart from the sacredtruths they represent. The gods we have introduced from Egypt areregarded by the priests of that learned land as emblems of certaindivine truths brought down from ancient times. They are like the Hermaeat our doors, which outwardly appear to rest on inexpressive blocks ofstone; but when opened, they are found to contain beautiful statues ofthe gods within them. It is not so with the new fables which the Greeksare continually mixing with their mythology. Pygmalion, as we all know, first departed from the rigid outline of ancient sculpture, andimpressed life and motion upon marble. The poets, in praise of him, have told us that his ardent wishes warmed a statue into a lovely andbreathing woman. The fable is fanciful and pleasing in itself; but willit not hereafter be believed as reality? Might not the same history betold of much that is believed? It is true, " added he, smiling, "that Imight be excused for favouring a belief in images, since mortals areever willing to have their own works adored. "

"What! does Plato respond to the inquiries of Phidias?" askedArtaphernes. 

The philosopher replied: "Within the holy mysteries of our religion ispreserved a pure and deep meaning, as the waters of Arethusa flowuncontaminated beneath the earth and the sea. I do not presume to decidewhether all that is believed has the inward significancy. I have everdeemed such speculations unwise. If the chaste daughter of Latona alwaysappears to my thoughts veiled in heavenly purity, it is comparativelyunimportant whether I can prove that Acteon was torn by his dogs, forlooking on the goddess with wanton eyes. Anaxagoras, said wisely thatmaterial forms lead the contemplative mind to the worship of ideal good, which is in its nature immortal and divine. Homer tells us that thegolden chain resting upon Olympus reaches even to the earth. Here we seebut a few of the last links, and those imperfectly. We are like men in asubterranean cave, so chained that they can look only forward to theentrance. Far above and behind us is a glowing fire: and beautifulbeings, of every form, are moving between the light and us poor fetteredmortals. Some of these bright beings are speaking, and others aresilent. We see only the shadows cast on the opposite wall of thecavern, by the reflection of the fire above; and if we hear the echo ofvoices, we suppose it belongs to those passing shadows. The soul, in itspresent condition, is an exile from the orb of light; its ignorance isforgetfulness; and whatever we can perceive of truth, or imagine ofbeauty, is but a reminiscence of our former more glorious state ofbeing. He who reverences the gods, and subdues his own passions, returnsat last to the blest condition from which he fell. But to talk, orthink, about these things with proud impatience, or polluted morals, islike pouring pure water into a miry trench; he who does it disturbs themud, and thus causes the clear water to become defiled. When Odysseusremoved his armour from the walls, and carried it to an inner apartment, invisible Pallas moved before him with her golden lamp, and filled theplace with radiance divine. Telemachus, seeing the light, exclaimed, 'Surely, my father, some of the celestial gods are present. ' With deepwisdom, the king of Ithaca replied, 'Be silent. Restrain your intellect, and speak not. '"

"I am rebuked, O Plato, " answered Phidias; "and from henceforth, when mymind is dark and doubtful, I will remember that transparent drops mayfall into a turbid well. Nor will I forget that sometimes, when I haveworked on my statues by torch-light, I could not perceive their realexpression, because I was carving in the shadow of my own hand. "

"Little can be learned of the human soul, and its connection with theUniversal Mind, " said Anaxagoras: "These sublime truths seem vague andremote, as Phoeacia appeared to Odysseus like a vast shield floating onthe surface of the distant ocean. 

"The glimmering uncertainty attending all such speculations, has led meto attach myself to the Ionic sect, who devote themselves entirely tothe study of outward nature. "

"And this is useful, " rejoined Plato: "The man who is to be led from acave will more easily see what the heavens contain by looking to thelight of the moon and the stars, than by gazing on the sun at noon-day. "

Here Hermippus interrupted the discourse, by saying, "The son of Cliniasdoes not inform us what _he_ thinks of the gods. While others havetalked, he has eaten. "

"I am a citizen and a soldier--neither priest nor philosopher, " repliedAlcibiades: "With a strong arm and a willing heart to fight for mycountry, I leave others to settle the attributes of her gods. Enough forme, that I regularly offer sacrifices in their temples, and pourlibations upon their altars. I care very little whether there be Elysianfields, or not. I will make an Elysium for myself, as long as Aspasiapermits me to be surrounded by forms so beautiful, and gives me nectarlike this to drink. " He replaced the goblet, from which he had drunkdeeply, and exclaimed, "By Dionysus! they quaff nothing better than thisin voluptuous Ionia!"

"Methinks a citizen and a soldier might find a more worthy model inSpartan, than in Ionian manners, " said Anaxagoras; "but the latter trulysuits better with the present condition of Athens. "

"A condition more glorious than that of any other people upon earth, "exclaimed Pericles, somewhat warmly: "The story of Athens, enthroned inher beauty and power, will thrill through generous hearts, long afterother nations are forgotten. "

"She is like a torch sending forth its last bright blaze, before it isextinguished forever, " replied Anaxagoras, calmly: "Where idledemagogues control the revenues of industrious citizens, the governmentcannot long stand. It is a pyramid with the base uppermost. "

"You certainly would not blame the wisdom of Aristides, in allowing thepoor as well as the rich, the privilege of voting?" said Pericles. 

"A moderate supply of wealth is usually the result of virtuous andindustrious habits; and it should be respected merely for what itindicates, " rejoined Anaxagoras. "Aristides, and other wise men, intheir efforts to satisfy the requirements of a restless people, haveopened a sluice, without calculating how it would be enlarged by therushing waters, until the very walls of the city are undermined by itspower. "

"But can the safety of the state be secured by merely excluding thevicious poor?" said Plato. "Are there not among us vicious rich men, whowould rashly vote for measures destructive of public good, if they couldthereby increase their own wealth? He who exports figs to maintainpersonal splendour, when there is famine in Attica, has perhaps lesspublic virtue than the beggar, who steals them to avoid starvation. "

"But the vicious rich man will bribe the beggar to vote as hedictates, " replied Anaxagoras; "and thus his power of doing evil becomestwo fold. "

"Your respect for permanent institutions makes you blind to the love ofchange, inherent and active in the human mind, " said Pericles. "Ifsociety be like the heaving ocean, those who would guide their vesselsin safety, must obey the winds and the tides. "

"Nay, Pericles, " replied the old man, earnestly; "if society be atumultuous ocean, government should be its everlasting shores. If thestatesman watches wind and tide only that his own bark may ride throughthe storm in safety, while every fresh wave sweeps a landmark away, itis evident that, sooner or later, the deluge must come. "

The discourse was growing too serious to be agreeable to Pericles, whowell knew that some of his best friends deemed he had injured the state, by availing himself too freely of the democratic tendencies of thepeople. Plato, perceiving this, said, "If it please you, Anaxagoras, wewill leave these subjects to be discussed in the Prytaneum and theAgoras. Fair and glorious is the violet-crowned city, and let us trustthe gods will long preserve it so. "

"Thou hast well spoken, son of Aristo, " replied Artaphernes: "Much as Ihad heard of the glory and beauty of Athens, it far surpasses my hopes. Perhaps I find myself lingering to gaze on the Odeum more frequentlythan on any other of your magnificent edifices; not for its moreimpressive beauty; but because it is in imitation of our Great King'sPavilion. "

Hermippus looked up, and smiled with ill-natured significance; forCratinus, the ribald, had openly declared in the theatre, that Periclesneeded only to look in his mirror, to discover a model for the slopingroof of the Odeum. Athenian guests were indignant at being thus remindedof the gross allusion to a deformity conspicuous in the head of theirillustrious statesman; but Artaphernes, quite unconscious of hismeaning, continued: "The noble structure is worthy of him who plannedit. Yet the unpretending beauty of some of your small temples makes mefeel more as if I were in the presence of a god. I have often marvelledwhat it is in those fair white columns, that charms me so much more thanthe palaces of the East, refulgent with gems and gold. "

"The beauty that lies _within_ has ever a mysterious power, " answeredPlato. "An amethyst may beam in the eye of a statue; but what, save thesoul itself, can give the expression of soul? The very spirit of harmonyis embodied in the proportions of the Parthenon. It is marble music. Isometimes think the whole visible beauty of creation is formed from themusic of the Infinite; and that the various joys we feel are but theunion of accordant notes in the great chorus of the universe. There ismusic in the airy dance; music in poetry; music in the glance of abeautiful woman; music in the involutions and inflexions of numbers;above all, there is music in light! And what _Light_ is in this world, _Truth_ is in that glorious world to which the mind of man returns afterits long exile. Yes, there is music in light! Hence, Phoebus is god ofthe Sun and of the Lyre, and Memnon yields sweet sounds to welcomeapproaching day. For this reason, the disciples of Zoroaster andPythagoras hail the rising sun with the melody of harps; and the birdspour forth their love of light in song. Perchance the order of theuniverse is revealed in the story of Thebes rising to the lyre ofAmphion; and Ibycus might have spoken sublime truth, when he told ofmusic in the motion of the everlasting stars. "

Philothea had listened so earnestly, that for a moment all otherthoughts were expelled from her mind. She threw back her veil, and withher whole soul beaming from her face, she exclaimed, "O Plato, I once_heard_ the music of the stars! Ibycus"----

The ardent gaze of Alcibiades restored her to painful consciousness;and, blushing deeply, she replaced her veil. Aspasia smiled; but Plato, with gentle reverence, asked, "What would Philothea say of the divineIbycus?"

The timid maiden gave no reply; and the tears of innocent shame wereseen falling fast upon her trembling arm. 

With that ready skill, which ever knows how to adapt itself to thecircumstances of the moment, Aspasia gave a signal to her attendants, and at once the mingled melody of voices and instruments burst upon theear. It was one of the enchanting strains of Olympus the Mysian; andevery heart yielded to its influence. A female slave noiselessly broughtAspasia's silver harp, and placed before her guests citharas and lyres, of ivory inlaid with gold. One by one, new voices and instruments joinedin the song; and when the music ceased, there was a pause of deep andsilent joy. 

"Shame to the feast, where the praises of Harmodius are not sung, " saidPericles, smiling, as he looked toward Eudora. With rapid fingers themaiden touched her lyre, and sung the patriotic song of Callistratus:

 "I'll wreathe my sword with myrtle, as brave Harmodius did, And as Aristogeiton his avenging weapon hid; When they slew the haughty tyrant and regained our liberty, And, breaking down oppression, made the men of Athens free. 

 "Thou art not, loved Harmodius, thou art not surely dead, But to some secluded sanctuary far away art fled; With the swift-footed Achilleus, unmolested there to rest, And to rove with Diomedes through the islands of the blest. 

 "I'll wreathe my sword with myrtle, as Aristogeiton did, And as the brave Harmodius his avenging weapon hid; When on Athenæ's festival they aimed the glorious blow, And calling on fair freedom, laid the proud Hipparchus low. 

 "Thy fame, beloved Harmodius, through ages still shall brighten, Nor ever shall thy glory fade, beloved Aristogeiton; Because your country's champions ye nobly dared to be, And striking down the tyrant, made the men of Athens free. "

The exhilarating notes stirred every Grecian heart. Some waved theirgarlands in triumph, while others joined in the music, and kept timewith branches of myrtle. 

"By Phoebus! a glorious song and divinely sung, " exclaimed Alcibiades:"But the lovely minstrel brings danger to our hearts in those sweetsounds, as Harmodius concealed his sword among myrtle leaves. "

Hipparete blushed, and with a quick and nervous motion touched hercithara. With a nod and a smile, Aspasia said, "Continue the music, Ipray you. " The tune being left to her own choice, the young matron sangAnacreon's Ode to the Grasshopper. Her voice was not unpleasing; but itcontrasted disadvantageously with the rich intonations of Eudora; and ifthe truth must be told, that dark-haired damsel was quite too consciousof the fact. 

Tithonus expressed an earnest desire to hear one of Pindar's odes; andPhilothea, urged by Aspasia, began with a quivering hand to accompanyherself on the harp. Her voice was at first weak and trembling; andPlato, to relieve her timidity, joined in the music, which soon gushedforth, clear, deep, and melodious:

 "Hail, celestial Poesy! Fair enchantress of mankind! Veiled in whose sweet majesty Fables please the human mind. But, as year rolls after year, These fictitious charms decline; Then, O man, with holy fear, Write and speak of things divine. Of the heavenly natures say Nought unseemly, or profane-- Hearts that worship and obey, Are preserved from guilty stain. "

Oppressed with the grandeur of the music, and willing to evade the tacitreproach conveyed in the words, Aspasia touched her lyre, and, withmournful tenderness, sung Danæ's Hymn to her Sleeping Infant. Then, suddenly changing to a gayer measure, she sang, with remarkablesweetness and flexibility of voice:

 "While our rosy fillets shed Blushes o'er each fervid head, With many a cup, and many a smile, The festal moments we beguile. And while the harp impassioned flings Tuneful rapture from the strings, Some airy nymph, with fluent limbs, Through the dance luxuriant swims, Waving in her snowy hand, The leafy Dionysian wand, Which, as the tripping wanton flies, Shakes its tresses to her sighs. 

At these words, a troop of graceful maidens, representing the Zephyrsand the Hours, glided in and out, between the marble columns, peltingeach other with roses, as they flew through the mazes of the dance. 

Presently, the music, more slow and measured in its cadence, announcedthe dance of Ariadne guiding her lover from the Labyrinth. In obedienceto a signal from Aspasia, Eudora sprang forward to hold the silken cord, and Alcibiades darted forward to perform the part of Theseus. Slowly, but gracefully as birds balancing themselves on the air, the maidenswent through the difficult involutions of the dance. They smiled on eachother, as they passed and repassed; and though Eudora's veil concealedthe expression of her features, Philothea observed, with an undefinedfeeling of apprehension, that she showed no tokens of displeasure at thebrief whispers and frequent glances of Alcibiades. 

At last, Pericles bade the attendants bring forth the goblet of the GoodGenius. A large golden bowl, around which a silver grape-vine twined itsluxuriant clusters, was immediately placed before him, filled with therich juices of the Chian grape. Then Plato, as king of the feast, exclaimed, "The cup of the Good Genius is filled. Pledge him in unmixedwine. "

The massive goblet passed among all the guests; some taking a deepdraught, and others scarcely moistening their lips with the wine. Whenthe ceremony was finished, Pericles said, "Now, if it pleases Hermippus, we should like to see him in the comic dance, for which he is socelebrated. "

Philothea looked earnestly at her grandfather. He instantly understoodher wishes, and bade farewell to Aspasia; urging the plea that his childwas unused to late hours, and too timid to be in the streets of Athenswithout his protection. Phidias requested that Eudora might accompanythem; and Hipparete likewise asked leave to depart. Aspasia bestowedgifts on her visiters, according to the munificent custom of thecountry. To Hipparete she gave a bracelet of pearls; to Philothea, alyre of ivory and gold; and to Eudora, a broad clasp for her mantle, onwhich the car of Aphrodite, drawn by swans, was painted in enamel, byPolygnotus, the inventor of the art. 

Alcibiades chose to remain at his wine; but slaves with torches were inreadiness at the gates, and Hipparete lived in the Ceramicus, withinsight of Aspasia's dwelling. 

A rapid walk soon restored the maidens to their own peaceful homes. Philothea, with the consent of Anaxagoras, went to share the apartmentof her friend; which, separated only by a small garden, was almostwithin hearing of her own. 

CHAPTER IV. 

 Much I dislike the beamless mind, Whose earthly vision, unrefined, Nature has never formed to see The beauties of simplicity! Simplicity, the flower of Heaven, To souls elect by nature given. " ANACREON. 

As the maidens entered their apartment, Eudora rather abruptly dismissedDione, the aged nurse, who had been waiting their arrival. Her favouritedog was sleeping on the couch; and she gave the little creature a hastybox on the ear, which made him spring suddenly to the floor, and look upin her face, as if astonished at such ungentle treatment. 

Philothea stooped down and caressed the animal, with a slightlyreproachful glance at her friend. 

"He was sleeping on my mantle, " said the petulant damsel. 

"His soft, white fur could not have harmed it, " rejoined her companion;"and you know that Hylax himself, as well as the mantle, was a gift fromPhilæmon. "

Eudora carelesssly tossed the mantle over her embroidery frame, fromwhich it trailed along the dusty floor. Philothea looked earnestly inher face, unable to comprehend such wayward conduct. "It is evident youdo not want my company to-night, " she said; "I will therefore return tomy own apartment. "

The peevish maiden slowly untied her sandal, without making any reply. Philothea's voice trembled slightly, as she added, "Good night, Eudora, To-morrow I hope you will tell me how I have offended you. "

"Stay! Stay!" exclaimed the capricious damsel; and she laid her handcoaxingly on her friend's arm. Philothea smiled a ready forgiveness. 

"I know I am very petulant to-night, " said Eudora; "but I do not believeyou yourself could listen to Hipparete without being vexed. She is sostupid, and so haughty. I don't think she spoke ten words to-nightwithout having a grasshopper for one of them. She is so proud of herpure Athenian blood! Do you know she has resolved to employ a skilfulartificer from Corinth, to make her an ivory box just like the oneTithonus gave Aspasia; but she took care to inform me that it should beinlaid with golden grasshoppers, instead of stars. A wise and wittydevice, is't not? to put grasshoppers in the paws of transformedCalisto, and fasten them in the belt of Orion. The sky will be so purelyAthenian, that Hipparete herself might condescend to be aconstellation. "

The talkative maiden laughed at her own conceit; and even her moreserious companion could not refrain from a smile, as with untiringvolubility she continued: "Then she told me that she herself embroideredher grasshopper robe, and bade me admire the excellence of the pattern. She said Plato could not possibly have mistaken the wreath intended forher; knowing, as he did, that her father and mother were both descendedfrom the most ancient families in Athens; and she repeated a list ofancestors with names all ending in _ippus_ and _ippides_. When, inanswer to her question, I acknowledged that the ornament in her hairwas beautiful, she told me she would gladly give me one like it, if itwere proper for me to wear it. I do so detest the sight of that Athenianemblem! I would walk to the fields of Acharnae, on purpose to crush agrasshopper. "

"You put yourself in a singular passion for such a harmless insect, "replied Philothea, smiling. "I hope there are none of them withinhearing. You know the poets say they rose from the ashes of men, who, when the Muses first had existence, pined away for the love of song; andthat after death they go to Parnassus, and inform the most ancientCalliope, the heavenly Urania, and the amorous Erato, concerning theconversation of their votaries. If they are truly the children of song, they will indeed forget their own resentments; but your conversationwould be so unlikely to make a favourable impression on the tunefulsisters, that it may be well for you the insects are now sleeping. "

"If the tattling tribe were all awake and listening, " replied Eudora, "Iwould freely give them leave to report all I say against Astronomy, orPoetry, or Music. If this be the test, I am willing to be tried withHipparete at the court of the Muses. If she were less stupid, I think Icould tolerate her pride. But I thought she would never have done with along story about a wine-stain that nearly spoiled her new dove-colouredrobe; the finest from the looms of Ecbatana; the pattern not to bematched in all Greece; and Aspasia half wild to obtain one like it. Shedid not fail to inform me that the slave who had spilled the wine, wastied to the olive-tree in the garden, and whipped six days insuccession. I never saw her in my life that she did not remind me ofbeing a slave. "

"Dearest Eudora, " said Philothea, "how can you make yourself so unhappyon this subject? Has not Phidias, from the first hour he bought you, allowed you all the privileges of a daughter?"

"Yes, " replied Eudora; "but the very circumstance that I was bought withhis money embitters it all. I do not thank him that I have been taughtall which becomes an Athenian maiden; for I can never be an Athenian. The spirit and the gifts of freedom ill assort with the condition of aslave. I wish he had left me to tend goats and bear burdens, as otherslaves do; to be beaten as they are beaten; starved as they are starved;and die as they die. I should not then have known my degradation. Iwould have made friends with the birds and the flowers, and never had aheart-wound from a proud Athenian fool. "

Philothea laid her hand gently on her friend's arm, and gazing on herexcited countenance, she said, "Eudora, some evil demon vexes youstrangely to-night. Did I not know the whole tenor of your blamelesslife, I should fear you were not at peace with your own conscience. "

Eudora blushed deeply, and busily caressed the dog with her foot. 

In a mild, clear voice, Philothea continued: "What _now_ prevents youfrom making friendship with the birds and the flowers! And why do youcherish a pride so easily wounded? Yes, it is pride, Eudora. It isuseless disguise to call it by another name. The haughtiness of otherscan never make us angry, if we ourselves are humble. Besides, it isvery possible that you are unjust to Hipparete. She might very naturallyhave spoken of her slave's carelessness, without meaning to remind youof bondage. "

"She _did_ mean it, " replied Eudora, with angry emphasis. "She is alwaysdescribing her pompous sacrifices to Demeter; because she knows I amexcluded from the temple. I hope I shall live to see her proud hearthumbled. "

"Nay, Eudora, " said Philothea, turning mournfully away: "Your feelingsare strangely embittered; the calm light of reason is totally obscuredby the wild torch-dance of your passions. Methinks hatred itself needwish Hipparete no worse fate than to be the wife of so bold and bad aman as Alcibiades. "

"Oh, Philothea! I wonder you can call him bold, " rejoined Eudora. "Helooks steadily at no one; his eyelashes ever rest on his face, likethose of a modest maiden. "

"Aye, Eudora--but it is not the expression of a sinless heart, timidlyretiring within the shrine of its own purity; it is the shrinking of aconscience that has something to conceal. Little as we know about theevils of the world, we have heard enough of Alcibiades, to be aware thatHipparete has much need to seek the protection of her patron goddess. "

"She had better worship in the temple of Helen, at Therapne, " answeredEudora, sharply: "The journey might not prove altogether hopeless; forthat temple is said to confer beauty on the ugliest woman that everentered it. " As the peevish damsel said this, she gave a proud glanceat her own lovely person, in the mirror, before which a lamp wasburning. 

Philothea had often seen her friend in petulant moods; but she had neverbefore known her to evince so much bitterness, or so long resist thesoothing influence of kindness. Unwilling to contend with passions shecould not subdue, and would not flatter, she remained for some momentsin serious silence. 

The expression of her countenance touched Eudora's quick feelings; andshe said, in an humble tone, "I know I am doing wrong, Philothea, but Icannot help it. "

Her friend calmly replied, "If you believe you cannot help it, youdeceive yourself; and if you do not believe it, you had better not havesaid it. "

"Now you are angry with me, " exclaimed the sensitive maiden; and sheburst into tears. 

Philothea passed her arm affectionately round her waist, saying, "I amnot angry with you, Eudora; but while I love you, I cannot and ought notto love the bad feelings you cherish. Believe me, my dear friend, theinsults of others can never make us wretched, or resentful, if all isright within our own hearts. The viper that stings us is alwaysnourished within us. Moreover, I believe, dearest Eudora, that half yourwrongs are in your own imagination. I too am a foreigner; but I havebeen very happy within the walls of Athens. "

"Because you have never been a slave, " retorted her companion; "and youhave shared privileges that strangers are seldom allowed to share. Youhave been one of the Canephoræ; you have walked in the grandprocession of the Panathenæa: and your statue in pure Pentelic marble, upholds the canopy over the sacred olive-tree. I know that your skilfulfingers, and your surpassing beauty have deserved these honours; but youmust pardon me, if I do not like the proud Athenians quite so well asyou do. "

"I gratefully acknowledge the part I have been allowed to take in thesacred service of Pallas, " replied the maiden; "but I owe it neither tomy beauty, nor my skill in embroidery. It was a tribute to that wise andgood old man, my grandfather. "

"And I, " said Eudora, in a tone of deep melancholy, "have neithergrandfather, parent, or brother to care for me. "

"Who could have proved a better protector than Phidias has been?"inquired her gentle friend. 

"Philothea, I cannot forget that I am his slave. What I said just now inanger, I repeat in sober sadness; it would be better for me to have aslave's mind with a slave's destiny. "

"I have no doubt, " replied Philothea, "that Phidias continues to be yourmaster merely that he may retain lawful power to protect you, until youare the wife of Philæmon. "

"Some slaves have been publicly registered as adopted children, " saidEudora. 

"But in order to do that, " rejoined her friend, "it is necessary toswear to their parentage; and yours is unknown. If it were not for thiscircumstance, I believe Phidias would be most willing to adopt you. "

"No, Philothea--Phidias would do no such thing. He is good and kind. Iknow that I have spoken of him as I ought not to have spoken. But he isa proud man. He would not adopt a nameless orphan, found with a poorgoatherd of Phelle. Had I descended from any of the princes conquered byGrecian valour, or were I even remotely allied with any of theillustrious men that Athens has ostracised, then indeed I might be theadopted daughter of Phidias, " After a short pause, she added, "If heenfranchised me without adoption, I think I should have no difficulty infinding a protector;" and again the maiden gave a triumphant glance ather mirror. 

"I am aware that your marriage with Philæmon has only awaited thetermination of these unfortunate law-suits, " replied Philothea: "Thoughhe is not rich, it cannot be very long before he is able to take youunder his protection; and as soon as he has the power, he will have thedisposition. "

"Will he, indeed!" exclaimed Eudora; and she trotted her little footimpatiently. 

"You are altogether mysterious to-night, " said Philothea: "Has anydisagreement arisen between you and Philæmon, during my absence?"

"He is proud, and jealous; and wishes me to be influenced by every whimof his, " answered the offended beauty. 

"The fetters of love are a flowery bondage, " rejoined Philothea:"Blossoms do not more easily unfold themselves to the sunshine, thanwoman obeys the object of her affections. Don't you remember the littleboy we found piping so sweetly, under the great plane-tree by thefountain of Callirhöe? When my grandfather asked him where he learned toplay so well, he answered; with a look of wondering simplicity, that it'piped itself. ' Methinks this would be the reply of a loving woman, toone who inquired how her heart had learned submission. But what hasPhilæmon required, that you consider so unreasonable?"

"He dislikes to have me visit Aspasia; and was angry because I dancedwith Alcibiades. "

"And did you tell him that you went to Aspasia's house, in conformitywith the express directions of Phidias?" inquired Philothea. 

"Why don't you say of my _master_?" interrupted Eudora, contemptuously. 

Without noticing the peevishness of this remark, her friend continued:"Are you quite sure that you have not been more frequently than youwould have been, if you had acted merely in reluctant obedience to thewill of Phidias. I am not surprised that Philæmon is offended at yourdancing with Alcibiades; assuredly a practice, so boldly at variancewith the customs of the country, is somewhat unmaidenly. "

"It is enough to be one man's slave, " replied Eudora. "I will dance withwhom I please. Alcibiades is the handsomest, and the most graceful, andthe most agreeable man in Athens--at least every body says so. I don'tknow why I should offend him to please Philæmon. "

"I thought there was a very satisfactory reason, " observed Philothea, quietly: "Alcibiades is the husband of Hipparete, and you are thepromised wife of Philæmon. I would not have believed the person whotold me that Eudora seriously called Alcibiades the handsomest and mostagreeable man in Athens. "

"The sculptors think him pre-eminently beautiful, " answered Eudora; "orthey would not so often copy his statue in the sacred images of Hermes. Socrates applied Anacreon's eloquent praise of Bathyllus to him, andsaid he saw in his lips 'Persuasion sleeping upon roses. '"

"That must have been in the days of youthful innocence, " repliedPhilothea: "Surely his countenance has now nothing divine in itsexpression; though I grant the colouring rich, and the features regular. He reminds me of the Alexandrian coin; outwardly pleasing to the eye butinwardly made of base metal. Urania alone confers the beauty-givingzone. The temple of Aphrodite in the Piræus is a fitting place for theportrait of Alcibiades; and no doubt he is well pleased that the peoplego there in throngs to see him represented leaning on the shoulder ofthe shameless Nemea. "

"If Aristophon chose to paint him side by side with the beautiful Nemea, it is no fault of his, " said Eudora. 

"The artist would not have dared so to represent Plato, or Philæmon, orParalus, " rejoined Philothea; "nor would Alcibiades allow his picturethus to minister to the corruption of the Athenians, if he had anyperception of what is really beautiful. I confess, Eudora, it pained meto see you listen to his idle flattery. He worships every handsomewoman, who will allow herself to be polluted by his incense. LikeAnacreon, his heart is a nest for wanton loves. He is never without abrood of them--some trying their wings, some in the egg, and some justbreaking the shell. "

With slight resentment in her manner, Eudora answered: "Anacreon is themost beautiful of poets; and I think you speak too harshly of the son ofClinias. "

"I am sorry for you, if you can perceive the beautiful where the pure iswanting, " rejoined Philothea; "You have changed, since my residence inthe Acropolis. The cherub Innocence, that was once the ever-presentdeity in your soul, has already retired deeper within the shrine, andveils his face in presence of the vain thoughts you have introducedthere. I fear Aspasia has made you believe that a passion fordistinction is but another name for love of the good, the true, and thebeautiful. Eudora, if this false man has flattered you, believe me, heis always ready to bestow the same upon others. He has told me that Iwas the loveliest of earthly objects; no doubt he has told you the same;but both cannot be true. "

"You!" exclaimed her companion: "Where could he find opportunity toaddress such language to you?"

"Where a better man would have had better thoughts, " replied Philothea:"It was during the sacred festival of the Panathenæa. A short timebefore midnight, it was my duty to receive the sacred basket from thehands of the priestess, and deposit it in the cave, beneath the Templeof Urania, in the gardens. Eucoline, the daughter of Agatho, attendedme, carrying a lighted torch. Having entered the cave, I held the torchwhile she took up the other sacred basket, which was there in readinessto be conveyed to the Parthenon; and we again stepped forth into thegardens. A flood of light streamed from the Temple, so clear andstrong, that I could distinctly see the sacred doves, among themultitude of fragrant roses--some sleeping in the shaded nooks, othersfluttering from bush to bush, or wheeling round in giddy circles, frightened by the glare. Near a small lake in the centre of the gardens, stood Myron's statue of the heavenly Urania, guiding a dove to hertemple by a garland of flowers. It had the pure and placid expression ofthe human soul, when it dwells in love and peace. In this holyatmosphere we paused for a moment in silent reverence. A smiling band ofinfant hours came clustering round my memory, and softly foldedthemselves about my heart. I thought of those early days, when, hand inhand with Paralus, I walked forth in the spring-time, welcoming theswallows to our shores, and gathering fragrant thyme to feed my bees. Wedid not then know that bees and young hearts need none to take thoughtfor their joy, but best gather their own sweet nourishment in sunlightand freedom. I remembered the helpless kid that Paralus confided to mycare. When we dressed the little creature in wreaths, we mourned thatflowers would not _grow_ in garlands; for it grieved our childish heartsto see them wither. Once we found, in the crevice of a moss-coveredrock, a small nest with three eggs. Paralus took one of them in hishand; and when we had admired its beauty, he kissed it reverently, andreturned it to its hiding-place. It was the natural outpouring of aheart brimful of love for all things pure and simple. Paralus ever livedin affectionate communion with the birds and the flowers. Firm inprinciple, but gentle in affection, he himself is like the rock, inwhose bosom the loving bird found a sheltered nook, so motherly andsafe, where she might brood over her young hopes in quiet joy. "

The maiden's heart had unconsciously followed her own innocentrecollections, like the dove led by a garland; and for a few moments sheremained silent in thoughtful tenderness. 

Eudora's changeful and perturbed spirit had been soothed by the sereneinfluence of her friend; and she too was silent for awhile. But thegiddy images that had of late been reeling their wild dance through herbrain, soon came back in glittering fantasy. 

"Philothea!" she exclaimed, abruptly, "you have not told me where youmet Alcibiades?"

The maiden looked up suddenly, like an infant startled from sweet dreamsby some rude noise. Recovering from her surprise, she smiled, and said, "Eudora, your question came upon me like his unexpected and unwelcomepresence in the sacred gardens. I told you that we stood by that quietlake in meek reverence; worshipping, --not the marble image beforeus, --but the Spirit of Beauty, that glides through the universe, breathing the invisible through visible forms, in such mysteriousharmony. Suddenly Eucoline touched my arm with a quick and timid motion. I turned and saw a young man gazing earnestly upon us. Our veils, whichhad been thrown back while we looked at the statue, were instantlydropped, and we hastily retraced our steps. The stranger followed us, until we passed under the shade of the olive grove, within sight of thePropylæa. He then knelt, and attempting to hold me by the robe, pouredforth the wildest protestations of love. I called aloud for protection;and my voice was heard by the priests, who were passing in and out ofthe Acropolis, in busy preparation for the festival. The young mansuddenly disappeared; but he was one of the equestrians that shared inthe solemnities of the night, and I again saw him as I took my place inthe procession. I had then never seen Alcibiades; but when I met himto-night, I immediately recognized the stranger who spoke so rudely inthe olive-grove. "

"You must forgive me, " said Eudora, "if I am not much disposed to blamemortal man for wishing to look upon your face a second time. Even Platodoes homage to woman's beauty. "

"True, Eudora; but there is reverence mingled with his homage. The veryatmosphere around Alcibiades seemed unholy. I never before met such aglance; and the gods grant I may never meet such another. I should nothave mentioned the occurrence, even to you, had I not wished to warn youhow lightly this volatile Athenian can make love. "

"I heard something of this before, " rejoined Eudora; "but I did not knowthe particulars. "

"How could you have heard of it?" inquired Philothea, with an accent ofstrong surprise. 

"Alcibiades had a more eager curiosity than yourself, " replied Eudora. "He soon ascertained the name of the lovely Canephoræ that he saw inthe Gardens of Urania; and he has never ceased importuning Aspasia, until you were persuaded to visit her house. "

The face, neck, and arms of the modest maiden were flushed withindignant crimson. "Was it for this purpose, " she said, "that I wasinduced to yield my own sense of propriety to the solicitations ofPericles? It is ever thus, when we disobey the gods, to please mortals. How could I believe that any motive so harmless as idle curiosityinduced that seductive and dangerous woman to urge me into herunhallowed presence?"

"I marvelled at your courage in talking to her as you did, " said Eudora. 

"Something within impelled me, " replied Philothea, reverently;--"I didnot speak from myself. "

Eudora remained in serious silence for a moment; and then said, "Can youtell me, Philothea, what you meant by saying you once heard the starssing? Or is that one of those things concerning which you do not love tohave me inquire?"

The maiden replied: "As I sat at my grandfather's feet, near the statueof Phoebus in the portico, at early dawn, I heard music, of soft andvarious sounds, floating in the air; and I thought perchance it was thefarewell hymn of the stars, or the harps of the Pleiades, mourning fortheir lost sister. --I had never spoken of it; but to-night I forgot thepresence of all save Plato, when I heard him discourse so eloquently ofmusic. "

"And were you as unhappy as you expected to be during this visit?"inquired her friend. 

"Some portions of the evening I enjoyed exceedingly, " replied Philothea. "I could have listened to Plato and Tithonus, until I grew old in theirpresence. Their souls seem to move in glowing moonlight, as ifsurrounded by bright beings from a better world. "

Eudora looked thoughtfully in her friend's face. "It is strange, " shesaid, "how closely you associate all earthly objects with things divine. I have heard Anaxagoras say that when you were a little child, youchased the fleeting sunshine through the fields, and called it theglittering wings of Phoebus Apollo, as he flew over the verdant earth. And still, dearest Philothea, your heart speaks the same language. Wherever you look, you see the shining of god-like wings. Just so youtalked of the moonlight, the other evening. To Hipparete, that solemnradiance would have suggested no thought except that lamp-light was morefavourable to the complexion; and Hermippus would merely have rejoicedin it, because it saved him the expense of an attendant and a torch, ashe reeled home from his midnight revels. I seldom think of sacredsubjects, except when I am listening to you; but they then seem sobright, so golden, so divine, that I marvel they ever appear to me likecold, dim shadows. "

"The flowers of the field are unlike, but each has a beauty of its own;and thus it is with human souls, " replied Philothea. 

For a brief space there was silence. But Eudora, true to the restlessvivacity of her character, soon seized her lyre, and carelessly touchingthe strings, she hummed one of Sappho's ardent songs:

 "More happy than the gods is he, Who soft reclining sits by thee; His ears thy pleasing talk beguiles, His eyes thy sweetly dimpled smiles. This, this, alas! alarmed my breast, And robbed me of my golden rest. "

Philothea interrupted her, by saying, "I should much rather hearsomething from the pure and tender-hearted Simonides. "

But the giddy damsel, instead of heeding her request, abruptlyexclaimed, "Did you observe the sandals of Artaphernes sparkle as hewalked? How richly Tithonus was dressed! Was it not a magnificentcostume?"

Philothea, smiling at her childish prattle, replied, "It was gorgeous, and well fancied; but I preferred Plato's simple robe, distinguishedonly by the fineness of its materials, and the tasteful adjustment ofits folds. "

"I never saw a philosopher that dressed so well as Plato, " said Eudora. 

"It is because he loves the beautiful, even in its minutest forms, "rejoined Philothea; "in that respect he is unlike the great master hereverences so highly. "

"Yes--men say it is a rare thing to meet either Socrates or his robelately returned from the bath, " observed Eudora; "yet, in those threebeautiful statues, which Pericles has caused to be placed in thePropylæa, the philosopher has carved admirable drapery. He has clothedthe Graces, though the Graces never clothed him. I wonder Aristophanesnever thought of that jest. Notwithstanding his willingness to pleasethe populace with the coarse wit current in the Agoras, I think itgratifies his equestrian pride to sneer at those who are too frugal tobuy coloured robes, and fill the air with delicious perfumes as theypass. I know you seldom like the comic writers. What did you think ofHermippus?"

"His countenance and his voice troubled me, like the presence ofevil, " answered Philothea. "I rejoiced that my grandfather withdrew withus, as soon as the goblet of the Good Genius passed round, and before hebegan to dance the indecent cordax. "

"He has a sarcastic, suspicious glance, that might sour the ripestgrapes in Chios, " rejoined Eudora. "The comic writers are over-jealous ofAspasia's preference to the tragic poets; and I suppose she permittedthis visit to bribe his enmity; as ghosts are said to pacify Cerberuswith a cake. But hark! I hear Geta unlocking the outer gate. Phidias hasreturned; and he likes to have no lamp burn later than his own. We mustquickly prepare for rest; though I am as wakeful as the bird of Pallas. "

She began to unclasp her girdle, as she spoke, and something droppedupon the floor. 

Philothea was stooping to unlace her sandal, and she immediately pickedit up. 

It was a beautiful cameo of Alcibiades, with the quiver and bow of Eros. 

Eudora took it with a deep blush, saying, "Aspasia gave it to me. "

Her friend looked very earnestly in her face for a moment, and sighed asshe turned away. It was the first time she had ever doubted Eudora'struth. 

CHAPTER V. 

 "Two several gates Transmit those airy phantoms. One of horn, And of sawn ivory one. Such dreams as pass The gate of ivory, prove empty sounds; While others, through the polished horn effused, Whose eye soe'er they visit, never fail. " HOMER. 

The dwellings of Anaxagoras and Phidias were separated by a gardenentirely sheltered from public observation. On three sides it wasprotected by the buildings, so as to form a hollow square; the remainderwas screened by a high stone wall. This garden was adorned with statuesand urns, among which bloomed many choice shrubs and flowers. The entireside of Anaxagoras' house was covered with a luxuriant grape-vine, whichstretched itself out on the roof, as if enjoying the sunshine. Thewomen's apartments communicated by a private avenue, which enabled thefriends to see each other as conveniently as if they had formed onehousehold. 

The morning after the conversation we have mentioned, Philothea roseearly, and returned to her own dwelling. As she passed through theavenue, she looked into the garden, and smiled to see, suspended by asmall cord thrown over the wall, a garland, fastened with adelicately-carved arrow, bearing the inscription--"To Eudora, the mostbeautiful, most beloved. "

Glad to assist in the work of reconciliation, she separated the wreathfrom the string, and carried it to her for whom it was intended. "Behold the offering of Philæmon!" she exclaimed, joyfully: "DearestEudora, beware how you estrange so true a heart. "

The handsome maiden received her flowers with evident delight, notunmingled with confusion; for she suspected that they came from agreater flatterer than Philæmon. 

Philothea returned to her usual avocations, with anxiety somewhatlessened by this trifling incident. 

Living in almost complete seclusion, the simple-hearted maiden wasquite unconscious that the new customs, introduced by Aspasia, hadrendered industry and frugality mere vulgar virtues, But the restraintof public opinion was unnecessary to keep her within the privacy ofdomestic life; for it was her own chosen home. She loved to prepare hergrandfather's frugal repast of bread and grapes, and wild honey; to takecare of his garments; to copy his manuscripts; and to direct theoperations of Milza, a little Arcadian peasant girl, who was her onlyattendant. These duties, performed with cheerful alacrity, gave a freshcharm to the music and embroidery with which she employed her leisurehours. 

Anaxagoras was extremely attached to his lovely grandchild; and hergreat intellectual gifts, accompanied as they were by uncommon purity ofcharacter, had procured from him and his friends a degree of respect notusually bestowed upon women of that period. She was a most welcomeauditor to the philosophers, poets, and artists, who were ever fond ofgathering round the good old man; and when it was either necessary orproper to remain in her own apartment, there was the treasured wisdom ofThales, Pythagoras, Hesiod, Homer, Simonides, Ibycus, and Pindar. Morethan one of these precious volumes were transcribed entirely by her ownhand. 

In the midst of such communion, her spirit drank freely from thefountains of sublime knowledge; which, "like the purest waters of theearth, can be obtained only by digging deep, --but when they are found, they rise up to meet us. "

The intense love of the beautiful, thus acquired, far from making thecommon occupations of life distasteful, threw over them a sort of poeticinterest, as a richly painted window casts its own glowing colours onmere boards and stones. The higher regions of her mind were neverobscured by the clouds of daily care; but thence descended perpetualsunshine, to gild the vapour. 

On this day, however, Philothea's mind was less serene than usual. Theunaccountable change in Eudora's character perplexed and troubled her. When she parted from her to go into the Acropolis, she had left her asinnocent and contented as a little child; and so proud and satisfied inPhilæmon's love, that she deemed herself the happiest of all happybeings: at the close of six short months, she found her transformed intoa vain, restless, ambitious woman, wild for distinction, and impatientof restraint. 

All this Philothea was disposed to pity and forgive; for she felt thatfrequent intercourse with Aspasia might have dazzled even a strongermind, and changed a less susceptible heart. Her own diminishedinfluence, she regarded as the inevitable result of her friend's presentviews and feelings; and she only regretted it because it lessened herpower of doing good where she was most desirous to be useful. 

Several times, in the course of the day, her heart yearned toward thefavourite of her childhood; and she was strongly impelled to go to herand confess all her anxieties. But Eudora came not, as she had ever beenwont to do, in the intervals of household occupation; and this obviousneglect drove Philothea's kind impulses back upon her heart. 

Hylax, as he ran round the garden, barking and jumping at the birds inthe air, instantly knew her voice, and came capering in, bounding up ather side, and licking her hand. The tears came to Philothea's eyes, asshe stooped to caress the affectionate animal: "Poor Hylax, " said she, "_you_ have not changed. " She gathered some flowers, and twined themround the dog's neck, thinking this simple artifice might bring a visitfrom her friend. 

But the sun went down, and still she had not caught a glimpse of Eudora, even in the garden. Her affectionate anxiety was almost deepening intosadness, when Anaxagoras returned, accompanied by the Ethiopian boy. 

"I bring an offering from the munificent Tithonus, " said thephilosopher: "He came with my disciples to-day, and we have had muchdiscourse together. To-morrow he departs from Athens; and he bade me saythat he hoped his farewell gift would not be unacceptable to her whosevoice made even Pindar's strains more majestic and divine. "

The boy uncovered an image he carried in his arms, and with lowobeisance presented it to Philothea. It was a small statue of Urania, wrought in ivory and gold. The beautiful face was turned upward, as ifregarding the heavens with quiet contemplation. A crown of goldenplanets encircled the head, and the scarf, enamelled with deep and vividazure, likewise glowed with stars. 

Philothea smiled, as she glanced round the apartment, and said, "It is ahumble shrine for a Muse so heavenly. "

"Honesty and innocence are fitter companions for the gods, than meremarble and gold, " replied the philosopher. 

As a small indication of respect and gratitude, the maiden sent Tithonusa roll of papyrus, on which she had neatly copied Pindar's Odes; and theboy, haying received a few oboli for his trouble, returned charged withthanks and good wishes for his master. 

Philothea, spontaneously yielding to the old habit of enjoyingeverything with her friend, took the statue in her arms, and wentdirectly to her room. Eudora was kind and cheerful, but strangelyfluttered. She praised the beautiful image in the excessive terms of onewho feels little, and is therefore afraid of not saying enough. Her mindwas evidently disturbed with thoughts quite foreign to the subject ofher conversation; but, making an effort at self-possession, she said, "Itoo have had a present: Artaphernes sent it because my voice remindedhim of one he loved in his youth. " She unfolded a roll of perfumedpapyrus, and displayed a Persian veil of gold and silver tissue. Philothea pronounced it fit for the toilette of a queen; but franklyconfessed that it was too gorgeous to suit her taste. 

At parting, she urged Eudora to share her apartment for the night. Themaiden refused, under the pretext of illness; but when her friendoffered to remain with her, she hastily replied that she should be muchbetter alone. 

As Philothea passed through the sheltered avenue, she saw Milzaapparently assisting Geta in cleansing some marbles; and thinkingPhidias would be pleased with the statue, she asked Geta to convey it tohis room. He replied, "My master has gone to visit a friend at Salamis, and will not return until morning. " The maiden was much surprised thather friend had made no allusion to this circumstance; but she forbore toreturn and ask an explanation. 

Another subject attracted her attention and occupied some share of herthoughts. She had observed that Geta and Milza appeared much confusedwhen she spoke to them. When she inquired what Geta had been saying, thepretty Arcadian, with an averted face, replied, "He called me to see amarble dog, barking as if he had life in him; only he did not make anynoise. "

"Was that all Geta talked of?" said Philothea. 

"He asked me if I liked white kids, " answered the blushing peasant. 

"And what did you tell him?" inquired the maiden. 

With a bashful mixture of simplicity and archness, the young damselanswered, "I told him I liked white kids very much. "

Philothea smiled, and asked no more questions. When she repeated thisbrief conversation to Anaxagoras, he heard it with affectionate interestin Milza's welfare, and promised to have a friendly talk withhonest-hearted Geta. 

The wakefulness and excitement of the preceding night had been quite atvariance with the tranquil regularity of Philothea's habits; and theslight repose, which she usually enjoyed in the afternoon, had beendisturbed by her grandfather, who came to say that Paralus was with him, and wished to see her a few moments, before they went out to the Piræustogether. Being therefore unusually weary, both in body and mind, themaiden early retired to her couch; and with mingled thoughts of herlover and her friend, she soon fell into a profound sleep. 

She dreamed of being with Paralus in an olive grove, over the deepverdure of which shining white blossoms were spread, like a silver veil. Her lover played upon his flute, while she leaned against a tree andlistened. Soon, the air was filled with a multitude of doves, flockingfrom every side; and the flapping of their wings kept time to the music. 

Then, suddenly, the scene changed to the garden of Phidias. The statuesseemed to smile upon her, and the flowers looked up bright and cheerful, in an atmosphere more mild than the day, but warmer than the moon. Presently, one of the smiling statues became a living likeness ofEudora, and with delighted expression gazed earnestly on the ground. Philothea looked to see what excited her admiration--and lo! a largeserpent, shining with green and gold, twisted itself among the flowersin manifold involutions; and wheresoever the beautiful viper glided, the blossoms became crisped and blackened, as if fire had passed overthem. With a sudden spring the venomous creature coiled itself aboutEudora's form, and its poisoned tongue seemed just ready to glance intoher heart; yet still the maiden laughed merrily, heedless of her danger. 

Philothea awoke with a thrill of anguish; but thankful to realize thatit was all a dream, she murmured a brief prayer, turned upon her couch, and soon yielded to the influence of extreme drowsiness. 

In her sleep, she seemed to be working at her embroidery; and Hylax cameand tugged at her robe, until she followed him into the garden. ThereEudora stood smiling, and the glittering serpent was again dancingbefore her. 

Disturbed by the recurrence of this unpleasant dream, the maidenremained awake for a considerable time, listening to the voices of hergrandfather and his guests, which still came up with a murmuring soundfrom the room below. Gradually her senses were lulled into slumber; andagain the same dream recurred to distress and waken her. 

Unable longer to resist the strength of her impressions, Philotheaarose, and descending a few of the steps, which led to the lower part ofthe house, she looked into the garden, through one of the apertures thathad been left in the wall for the admission of light. Behind a statue ofErato, she was sure that she saw coloured drapery floating in themoonlight. Moving on to the next aperture, she distinctly perceivedEudora standing by the statue; and instead of the graceful serpent, Alcibiades knelt before her. His attitude and gesture were impassioned;and though the expression of Eudora's countenance could not be seen, she was evidently giving him no ungracious audience. 

Philothea put her hand to her heart, which throbbed violently withpainful emotion. Her first thought was to end this interview at allhazards; but she was of a timid nature; and when she had folded her robeand veil about her, her courage failed. Again she looked through theaperture and saw that the arm of Alcibiades rested on the shoulder ofher misguided friend. 

Without taking time for a second thought, she sprang down the remainingsteps, darted through the private avenue into the garden, and standingdirectly before the deluded girl, she exclaimed, in a tone of earnestexpostulation, "Eudora!"

With a half-suppressed scream, the maiden disappeared. Alcibiades, withcharacteristic boldness, seized Philothea's robe, exclaiming, "What havewe here? So help me Aphrodite! it is the lovely Canephora of thegardens! Now Eros forsake me if I lose this chance to look on herheavenly face again. "

He attempted to raise the veil, which the terrified maiden graspedconvulsively, as she tried to extricate herself from his hold. 

At that instant, a stern voice sounded from the opposite wall; andPhilothea, profiting by the sudden surprise into which Alcibiades wasthrown, darted through the avenue, bolted the door, and in an instantafter was within the sanctuary of her own chamber. 

Here the tumult of mingled emotion subsided in a flood of tears. Shemourned over the shameful infatuation of Eudora, and she acutely feltthe degradation attached to her own accidental share in the scene. Withthese thoughts was mingled deep pity for the pure-minded and excellentPhilæmon. She was sure that it was his voice she had heard from thewall; and she rightly conjectured that, after his prolonged interviewwith Anaxagoras, he had partly ascended the ladder leading to thehouse-top, and looked through the fluttering grape-leaves at thedwelling of his beloved. 

The agitation of her mind prevented all thoughts of sleep. Again andagain she looked out anxiously. All was hushed and motionless. Thegarden reposed in the moonbeams, like truths, which receive no warmthfrom the heart--seen only in the clear, cold light of reason. The plantswere visible, but colourless; and the statues stood immovable in theirsilent, lifeless beauty. 

CHAPTER VI. 

 Persuasive is the voice of Vice, That spreads the insidious snare. ÆSCHYLUS. 

Early the next morning, painful as the task was, Philothea went toEudora's room; for she felt that if she ever hoped to save her, she mustgain influence now. 

The maiden had risen from her couch, and was leaning her head on herhand, in an attitude of deep thought. She raised her eyes as Philotheaentered, and her face was instantly suffused with the crimson flush ofshame. She made no reply to the usual salutations of the morning, butwith evident agitation twisted and untwisted some shreds that had fallenfrom her embroidery. 

For a moment her friend stood irresolute. She felt a strong impulse toput her arm around Eudora's neck and conjure her, even for her own sake, to be frank and confiding; but the scene in the garden returned to hermemory, and she recoiled from her beloved companion, as from somethingpolluted. 

Still ignorant how far the deluded girl was involved, she felt that themanner in which she deported herself toward her, might perhaps fix herdestiny for good or evil. With a kind, but trembling voice, she said, "Eudora, will you tell me whether the interview I witnessed last nightwas an appointed one?"

Eudora persevered in silence, but her agitation obviously increased. 

Her friend looked earnestly in her excited countenance for a moment, and then said, "Eudora, I do entreat you to tell me the whole truth inthis matter. "

"I have not yet learned what right you have to inquire, " replied themisguided maiden. 

Philothea's eyes were filled with tears, as she said, "Does the love wehave felt for each other from our earliest childhood, give me no claimto your confidence? Had we ever a cake, or a bunch of grapes, of whichone did not reserve for the other the largest and best portion? I wellremember the day when you broke the little marble kid Phidias had givenyou. You fairly sobbed yourself to sleep in my lap, while I smoothedback the silky curls all wet with your tears, and sung my childish songsto please you. You came to me with all your infant troubles--and in ourmaturer years, have we not shared all our thoughts? Oh, still trust tothe affection that never deceived you. Believe me, dear Eudora, youwould not wish to conceal your purposes and actions from your earliestand best friend, unless you had an inward consciousness of somethingwrong. Every human being has, like Socrates, an attendant spirit; andwise are they who obey its signals. If it does not always tell us whatto do, it always cautions us what not to do. Have you not of latestruggled against the warnings of this friendly spirit? Is it safe tocontend with him, till his voice recedes, like music in the distance, and is heard no more?"

She looked earnestly in Eudora's face for a moment, and perceiving thather feelings were somewhat softened, she added, "I will not again askwhether the meeting of last night was an appointed one; for you surelywould repel the suspicion, if you could do so with truth. It is tooevident that this insinuating man has fascinated you, as he already hasdone hundreds of others; and for the sake of his transient flattery, youhave thrown away Philæmon's pure and constant love. Yet the passingnotice of Alcibiades is a distinction you will share with half themaidens of Athens. When another new face attracts his fancy, you will beforgotten; but you cannot so easily forget your own folly. The friendsyou cast from you can never be regained; tranquillity of mind willreturn no more; conscious innocence, which makes the human countenance atablet for the gods to write upon, can never be restored. And for whatwill you lose all this? Think for a moment what is the destiny of thosewomen, who, following the steps of Aspasia, seek happiness in the homagepaid to triumphant beauty--youth wasted in restless excitement, and oldage embittered by the consciousness of deserved contempt. For this, areyou willing to relinquish the happiness that attends a quiet dischargeof duty, and the cheerful intercourse of true affection?"

In a tone of offended pride, Eudora answered: "Philothea, if I were whatyou seem to believe me, your words would be appropriate; but I havenever had any other thought than that of being the acknowledged wife ofAlcibiades. "

"Has he then made you believe that he would divorce Hipparete?"

"Yes--he has solemnly sworn it. Such a transaction would have nothingremarkable in it. Each revolving moon sees similar events occur inAthens. The wife of Pericles had a destiny like that of her namesake; ofwhom the poets write that she was beloved for awhile by Olympian Zeus, and afterward changed into a quail. Pericles promised Aspasia that hewould divorce Asteria and marry her; and he has kept his word. Hippareteis not so very beautiful or gifted, as to make it improbable thatAlcibiades might follow his example. "

"It is a relief to my heart, " said Philothea, "to find that you havebeen deluded with hopes, which, however deceitful, render youcomparatively innocent. But believe me, Eudora, Alcibiades will neverdivorce Hipparete. If he should do so, the law would compel him toreturn her magnificent dowry. Her connections have wealth and influence;and her brother Callias has promised that she shall be his heir. Thepaternal fortune of Alcibiades has all been expended, except his estatenear Erchia; and this he knows full well is quite insufficient tosupport his luxury and pride. "

Eudora answered warmly, "If you knew Alcibiades, you would not suspecthim of such sordid motives. He would throw money into the sea like dust, if it stood in the way of his affections. "

"I am well aware of his pompous wastefulness, when he wishes to purchasepopularity by lavish expenditure, " replied Philothea. "But Alcibiadeshas found hearts a cheap commodity, and he will not buy with drachmæ, what he can so easily obtain by flattery. Your own heart, I believe, isnot really touched. Your imagination is dazzled with his splendidchariots of ivory inlaid with silver; his unrivalled stud of Phasianhorses; his harnesses of glittering brass; the golden armour which heloves to display at festivals; his richly-coloured garments, fresh fromthe looms of Sardis, and redolent with the perfumes of the East. You areproud of his notice, because you see that other maidens are flattered byit; because his statue stands among the Olympionicæ, in the sacredgroves of Zeus, and because all Athens rings with the praises of hisbeauty, his gracefulness, his magnificence, and his generosity. "

"I am not so weak as your words imply, " rejoined Eudora. "I believe thatI love Alcibiades better than I ever loved Philæmon; and if the consentof Phidias can be obtained, I cannot see why you should object to ourmarriage. "

For a few moments, Philothea remained in hopeless silence; then, in atone of tender expostulation, she continued: "Eudora, I would the powerwere given me to open your eyes before it is too late! If Hipparete benot beautiful, she certainly is not unpleasing; her connections havehigh rank and great wealth; she is virtuous and affectionate, and themother of his children. If, with all these claims, she can be so lightlyturned away for the sake of a lovelier face, what can you expect, whenyour beauty no longer has the charm of novelty? You, who have neitherwealth nor powerful connections, to serve the purposes of that ambitiousman? And think for yourself, Eudora, if Alcibiades means as he says, whydoes he seek stolen interviews at midnight, in the absence of Phidias?"

"It is because he knows that Phidias has an uncommon regard forPhilæmon, " replied Eudora; "but he thinks he can, in time, persuade himto consult our wishes. I know, better than you possibly can, whatreasons I have to trust the strength of his affection. Aspasia says shehas never seen him so deeply in love as he is now. "

"It is as I feared, " said Philothea; "the voice of that siren is luringyou to destruction. "

Eudora answered, in an angry tone, "I love Aspasia; and it offends me tohear her spoken of in this manner. If you are content to be a slave, like the other Grecian women, who bring water and grind corn for theirmasters, I have no objection. I have a spirit within me that demands awider field of action, and I enjoy the freedom that reigns in Aspasia'shouse. Alcibiades says he does not blame women for not liking to be shutup within four walls all their life-time, ashamed to show their faceslike other mortals. "

Quietly, but sadly, Philothea replied: "Farewell, Eudora. May the powersthat guide our destiny, preserve you from any real cause for shame. Youare now living in Calypso's island; and divine beings alone can save youfrom the power of her enchantments. "

Eudora made no response, and did not even raise her eyes, as hercompanion left the apartment. 

As Philothea passed through the garden, she saw Milza standing in theshadow of the vines, feeding a kid with some flowers she held in herhand, while Geta was fastening a crimson cord about its neck. A gladinfluence passed from this innocent group into the maiden's heart, likethe glance of a sunbeam over a dreary landscape. 

"Is the kid yours, Milza?" she asked, with an affectionate smile. 

The happy little peasant raised her eyes with an arch expression, butinstantly lowered them again, covered with blushes. It was a look thattold all the secrets of her young heart more eloquently than language. 

Philothea had drank freely from those abundant fountains of joy in thehuman soul, which remain hidden till love reveals their existence, assecret springs are said to be discovered by a magic wand. Withaffectionate sympathy she placed her hand gently on Milza's head, andsaid, "Be good--and the gods will ever provide friends for you. "

The humble lovers gazed after her with a blessing in their eyes; and inthe consciousness of this, her meek spirit found a solace for the woundsEudora had given. 

CHAPTER VII. 

 O Zeus! why hast thou given us certain proof To know adulterate gold, but stamped no mark, Where it is needed most, on man's base metal? EURIPIDES. 

When Philothea returned to her grandfather's apartment, she found thegood old man with an open tablet before him, and the remainder of a richcluster of grapes lying on a shell by his side. 

"I have wanted you, my child, " said he, "Have you heard the news allAthens is talking of, that you sought your friend so early in the day?You are not wont to be so eager to carry tidings. "

"I have not heard the rumours whereof you speak, " replied Philothea. "What is it, my father?"

"Hipparete went from Aspasia's house to her brother Callias, instead ofthe dwelling of her husband, " rejoined Anaxagoras: "by his advice sherefused to return; and she yesterday appealed to the archons for adivorce from Alcibiades, on the plea of his notorious profligacy. Alcibiades, hearing of this, rushed into the assembly, with his usualboldness, seized his wife in his arms, carried her through the crowd, and locked her up in her own apartment. No man ventured to interferewith this lawful exercise of his authority. It is rumoured thatHipparete particularly accused him of promising marriage to Electra theCorinthian, and Eudora, of the household of Phidias. "

For the first time in her life, Philothea turned away her face, toconceal its expression, while she inquired in a tremulous tone whetherthese facts had been told to Philæmon, the preceding evening. 

"Some of the guests were speaking of it when he entered, " repliedAnaxagoras; "but no one alluded to it in his presence. Perhaps he hadheard the rumour, for he seemed sad and disquieted, and joined little inthe conversation. "

Embarrassed by the questions which her grandfather was naturallydisposed to ask, Philothea briefly confessed that a singular change hadtaken place in Eudora's character, and begged permission to silent on asubject so painful to her feelings. She felt strongly inclined to returnimmediately to her deluded friend; but the hopelessness induced by herrecent conversation, combined with the necessity of superintending Milzain some of her household occupations, occasioned a few hours' delay. 

As she attempted to cross the garden for that purpose, she saw Eudoraenter hastily by the private gate, and pass to her own apartment. Philothea instantly followed her, and found that she had thrown herselfon the couch, sobbing violently. She put her arms about her neck, andaffectionately inquired the cause of her distress. 

For a long time the poor girl resisted every soothing effort, andcontinued to weep bitterly. At last, in a voice stifled with sobs, shesaid, "I was indeed deceived; and you, Philothea, was my truest friend;as you have always been. "

The tender-hearted maiden imprinted a kiss upon her hand, and askedwhether it was Hipparete's appeal to the archons, that had so suddenlyconvinced her of the falsehood of Alcibiades. 

"I have heard it all, " replied Eudora, with a deep blush; "and I haveheard my name coupled with epithets never to be repeated to your pureears. I was so infatuated that, after you left me this morning, I soughtthe counsels of Aspasia, to strengthen me in the course I had determinedto pursue. As I approached her apartment, the voice of Alcibiades met myear. I stopped and listened. I heard him exult in his triumph overHipparete; I heard my name joined with Electra, the wanton Corinthian. Iheard him boast how easily our affections had been won; I heard--"

She paused for a few moments, with a look of intense shame, and thetears fell fast upon her robe. 

In gentle tones Philothea said, "These are precious tears, Eudora. Theywill prove like spring-showers, bringing forth fragrant blossoms. "

With sudden impulse, the contrite maiden threw her arms around her neck, saying, in a subdued voice, "You must not be so kind to me--it willbreak my heart. "

By degrees the placid influence of her friend calmed her perturbedspirit. "Philothea, " she said, "I promise with solemn earnestness totell you every action of my life, and every thought of my soul; butnever ask me to repeat all I heard at Aspasia's dwelling. The words wentthrough my heart like poisoned arrows. "

"Nay, " replied Philothea, smiling; "they have healed, not poisoned. "

Eudora sighed, as she added, "When I came away, in anger and in shame, Iheard that false man singing in mockery:

 "Count me on the summer trees Every leaf that courts the breeze; Count me on the foamy deep Every wave that sinks to sleep; Then when you have numbered these, Billowy tides and leafy trees, Count me all the flames I prove, All the gentle nymphs I love. "

Philothea, how could you, who are so pure yourself, see so much clearerthan I did the treachery of that bad man?"

The maiden replied, "Mortals, without the aid of experience, wouldalways be aware of the presence of evil, if they sought to put away thelove of it in their own hearts, and in silent obedience listened to thevoice of their guiding spirit. Flowers feel the approach of storms, andbirds need none to teach them the enmity of serpents. This knowledge isgiven to them as perpetually as the sunshine; and they receive it fully, because their little lives are all obedience and love. "

"Then, dearest Philothea, you may well know when evil approaches. Bysome mysterious power you have ever known my heart better than I myselfhave known it. I now perceive that you told me the truth when you said Iwas not blinded by love, but by foolish pride. If it were not so, myfeelings could not so easily have turned to hatred. I have more thanonce tried to deceive you, but you will feel that I am not now speakingfalsely. The interview you witnessed was the first and only one I evergranted to Alcibiades. "

Philothea freely expressed her belief in this assertion, and her joythat the real character of the graceful hypocrite had so soon been mademanifest. Her thoughts turned towards Philæmon; but certainrecollections restrained the utterance of his name. They were bothsilent for a few moments; and Eudora's countenance was troubled. Shelooked up earnestly in her friend's face, but instantly turned away hereyes, and fixing them on the ground, said, in a low and timid voice, "Doyou think Philæmon can ever love me again?"

Philothea felt painfully embarrassed; for when she recollected howdeeply Philæmon was enamoured of purity in women, she dared not answerin the language of hope. 

While she yet hesitated, Dione came to say that her master required theattendance of Eudora alone in his apartment. 

Phidias had always exacted implicit obedience from his household, andEudora's gratitude towards him had ever been mingled with fear. Theconsciousness of recent misconduct filled her with extreme dread. Hercountenance became deadly pale, as she turned toward her friend, andsaid, "Oh, Philothea, go with me. "

The firm-hearted maiden took her arm gently within her own, andwhispered, "Speak the truth, and trust in the Divine Powers. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

 Thus it is; I have made those Averse to me whom nature formed my friends; Those, who from me deserved no ill, to win Thy grace, I gave just cause to be my foes; And thou, most vile of men, thou hast betrayed me. EURIPIDES. 

Phidias was alone, with a large unfinished drawing before him, on awaxen tablet. Various groups of statues were about the room; among whichwas conspicuous the beautiful workmanship of Myron, representing akneeling Paris offering the golden apple to Aphrodite; and by a mode offlattery common with Athenian artists, the graceful youth bore thefeatures of Alcibiades. Near this group was Hera and Pallas, from thehand of Phidias; characterized by a severe majesty of expression, asthey looked toward Paris and his voluptuous goddess in quiet scorn. 

Stern displeasure was visible in the countenance of the great sculptor. As the maidens entered, with their faces covered, he looked up, and saidcoldly, "I bade that daughter of unknown parents come into my presenceunattended. "

Eudora keenly felt the reproach implied by the suppression of her name, which Phidias deemed she had dishonoured; and the tremulous motion ofher veil betrayed her agitation. 

Philothea spoke in a mild, but firm voice: "Son of Charmides, by thefriendship of my father, I conjure you do not require me to forsakeEudora in this hour of great distress. "

In a softened tone, Phidias replied: "The daughter of Alcimenes knowsthat for his sake, and for the sake of her own gentle nature, I canrefuse her nothing. "

"I give thee thanks, " rejoined the maiden, "and relying on thisassurance, I will venture to plead for this helpless orphan, whom thegods committed to thy charge. The counsels of Aspasia have led her intoerror; and is the son of Charmides blameless, for bringing one so youngwithin the influence of that seductive woman?"

After a short pause, Phidias answered: "Philothea, it is true that mypride in her gift of sweet sounds first brought her into the presence ofthat bad and dangerous man; it was contrary to Philæmon's wishes, too;and in this I have erred. If that giddy damsel can tell me the meetingin the garden was not by her own consent, I will again restore her to myconfidence. Eudora, can you with truth give me this assurance?"

Eudora made no reply; but she trembled so violently, that she would havesunk, had she not leaned on the arm of her friend. 

Philothea, pitying her distress, said, "Son of Charmides, I do notbelieve Eudora can truly give the answer you wish to receive; butremember in her favour that she does not seek to excuse herself byfalsehood. Alcibiades has had no other interview than that one, of whichthe divine Phoebus sent a messenger to warn me in my sleep. For thatfault, the deluded maiden has already suffered a bitter portion of shameand grief. "

After a short silence, Phidias spoke: "Eudora, when I called youhither, it was with the determination of sending you to the temple ofCastor and Polydeuces, there to be offered for sale to your paramour, who has already tried, in a secret way, to purchase you, by thenegociation of powerful friends; but Philothea has not pleaded for youin vain. I will not punish your fault so severely as Alcibiades venturedto hope. You shall remain under my protection. But from henceforth youmust never leave your own apartment, without my express permission, which will not soon be granted. I dare not trust your sudden repentance;and shall therefore order a mastiff to be chained to your door. Dionewill bring you bread and water only. If you fail in obedience, the fateI first intended will assuredly be yours, without time given forexpostulation. Now go to the room that opens into the garden; and thereremain, till I send Dione to conduct you to your own apartment. "

Eudora was so completely humbled, that these harsh words aroused nofeeling of offended pride. Her heart was too full for utterance; and hereyes so blinded with tears, that, as she turned to leave the apartment, she frequently stumbled over the scattered fragments of marble. 

It was a day of severe trials for the poor maiden. They had remained buta short time waiting for Dione, when Philæmon entered, conducted byPhidias, who immediately left the apartment. Eudora instantly bowed herhead upon the couch, and covered her face with her hands. 

In a voice tremulous with emotion, the young man said, "Eudora, notwithstanding the bitter recollection of where I last saw you, I haveearnestly wished to see you once more--to hear from your own lipswhether the interview I witnessed in the garden was by your ownappointment. Although many things in your late conduct have surprisedand grieved me, I am slow to believe that you could have taken a step sounmaidenly; particularly at this time, when it has pleased the gods toload me with misfortunes. By the affection I once cherished, I entreatyou to tell me whether that meeting was unexpected. "

He waited in vain for any other answer than audible sobs. After a slightpause, he continued: "Eudora, I wait for a reply more positive thansilence. Let me hear from your own lips the words that must decide mydestiny. Perchance it is the last favour I shall ever ask. "

The repentant maiden, without looking up, answered, in broken accents, "Philæmon, I will not add deceit to other wrongs, I must speak thetruth, if my heart is broken. I did consent to that interview. "

The young man bowed his head in silent anguish against one of thepillars--his breast heaved, and his lips quivered. After a hard strugglewith himself, he said, "Farewell, Eudora. I shall never again intrudeupon your presence. Many will flatter you; but none will love you as Ihave loved. "

With a faint shriek, Eudora sprung forward, and threw herself at hisfeet. She would have clasped his knees, but he involuntarily recoiledfrom her touch, and gathered the folds of his robe about him. 

Then the arrow entered deeply into her heart, She rested her burningforehead against the marble pillar, and said, in tones of agonizedentreaty, "I never met him but once. "

Philothea, who during this scene had wept like an infant, laid her handbeseechingly on his arm, and added, "Son of Chærilaüs, remember thatwas the only interview. "

Philæmon shook his head mournfully, as he replied, "But I cannot forgetthat it was an appointed one. --We can never meet again. "

He turned hastily to leave the room; but lingered on the threshold, andlooked back upon Eudora with an expression of unutterable sadness. 

Philothea perceived the countenance of her unhappy friend grow rigidbeneath his gaze. She hastened to raise her from the ground whereon sheknelt, and received her senseless in her arms. 

CHAPTER IX. 

 Fare thee well, perfidious maid! My soul, --its fondest hopes betrayed, Betrayed, perfidious girl, by thee, -- Is now on wing for liberty. I fly to seek a kindlier sphere, Since thou hast ceased to love me here. ANACREON. 

Not long after the parting interview with Eudora, Philæmon, sad andsolitary, slowly wended his way from Athens. As he passed along thebanks of the Illyssus, he paused for a moment, and stood with foldedarms, before the chaste and beautiful little temple of Agrotera, thehuntress with the unerring bow. 

The temple was shaded by lofty plane trees, and thickly intertwinedwillows, among which transparent rivulets glided in quiet beauty; whilethe marble nymphs, with which the grove was adorned, looked modestlydown upon the sparkling waters, as if awe-stricken by the presence oftheir sylvan goddess. 

A well-known voice said, "Enter Philæmon. It is a beautiful retreat. Thesoft verdant grass tempts to repose; a gentle breeze brings fragrancefrom the blossoms; and the grasshoppers are chirping with a summer-likeand sonorous sound. Enter, my son. "

"Thanks, Anaxagoras, " replied Philæmon, as he moved forward to give andreceive the cordial salutation of his friend: "I have scarcely travelledfar enough to need repose; but the day is sultry, and this balmy air isindeed refreshing. "

"Whither leads your path, my son?" inquired the good old man. "Iperceive that no servant follows you with a seat whereon to rest, whenyou wish to enjoy the prospect, and your garments are girded about you, like one who travels afar. "

"I seek Mount Hymettus, my father, " replied Philæmon: "There I shallstop to-night, to take my last look of Athens. To-morrow, I join acompany on their way to Persia; where they say Athenian learning iseagerly sought by the Great King and his nobles. "

"And would you have left Athens without my blessing?" inquiredAnaxagoras. 

"In truth, my father, I wished to avoid the pain of parting, " rejoinedPhilæmon. "Not even my beloved Paralus is aware that the homelessoutcast of ungrateful Athens has left her walls forever. "

The aged philosopher endeavoured to speak, but his voice was tremulouswith emotion. After a short pause, he put his arm within Philæmon's, andsaid, "My son, we will journey together. I shall easily find my way backto Athens before the lamps of evening are lighted. "

The young man spoke of the wearisome walk; and reminded him that Ibycus, the beloved of the gods, was murdered while returning to the city aftertwilight. But the philosopher replied, "My old limbs are used tofatigue, and everybody knows that the plain robe of Anaxagoras concealsno gold. "

As they passed along through the smiling fields of Agra, thecheerfulness of the scene redoubled the despondency of the exile. Troopsof laughing girls were returning from the vineyards with baskets fullof grapes; women were grinding corn, singing merrily, as they toiled;groups of boys were throwing quoits, or seated on the grass eagerlyplaying at dice, and anon filling the air with their shouts; in oneplace was a rural procession in honour of Dionysus; in another, loads ofpure Pentelic marble were on their way from the quarry, to increase thearchitectural glory of Athens. 

"I could almost envy that senseless stone!" exclaimed Philæmon. "It goeswhere I have spent many a happy hour, and where I shall never entermore. It is destined for the Temple of the Muses, which Plato is causingto be built among the olive-groves of Academus. The model is morebeautifully simple than anything I have ever seen. "

"The grove of Academus is one of the few places now remaining wherevirtue is really taught and encouraged, " rejoined Anaxagoras. "As forthese new teachers, misnamed philosophers, they are rapidly hasteningthe decay of a state whose diseases produced them. "

"A few days since, I heard one of the sophists talking to crowds ofpeople in the old Agora, " said Philæmon; "and truly his doctrinesformed a strange contrast with the severe simplicity of virtue expressedin the countenances of Solon, Aristides, and the other god-like statuesthat stood around him. He told the populace that it was unquestionably agreat blessing to commit an injury with impunity; but as there was moreevil in suffering an injury than there was good in committing one, itwas necessary to have the subject regulated by laws: that justice, correctly defined, meant nothing more than the interest of thestrongest; that a just man always fared worse than the unjust, becausehe neglected to aggrandize himself by dishonest actions, and thus becameunpopular among his acquaintances; while those who were less scrupulous, grew rich and were flattered. He said the weak very naturally consideredjustice as a common right; but he who had power, if he had likewisecourage, would never submit to any such agreement: that they who praisedvirtue, did it because they had some object to gain from those who hadless philosophy than themselves; and these pretended worthies, if theycould act invisibly, would soon be found in the same path with thevillain. He called rhetoric the noblest of the arts, because it enabledan ignorant man to appear to know as much as one who was thoroughlymaster of his subject. Some of the people demanded what he had to say ofthe gods, since he had spoken so ably of men. With an unpleasant mixtureof derision and feigned humility, the sophist replied, that he left suchvast subjects to be discussed by the immortal Socrates. He forthwithleft the Agora, and many a loud laugh and profane jest followed hisdeparture. When such doctrines can be uttered without excitingindignation, it is easy to foresee the destinies of the state. "

"Thucydides speaks truly, " rejoined Anaxagoras: "In the history he iswriting, he says, --The Athenian people are beginning to be more fond ofcalling dishonest men able, than simple men honest; and that statesmenbegin to be ashamed of the more worthy title, while they take pride inthe other: thus sincerity, of which there is much in generous natures, will be laughed down; while wickedness and hypocrisy are everywheretriumphant. "

"But evil grows weary of wearing a mask in reluctant homage to good, "replied Philæmon; "she is ever seeking to push it aside, with the hopethat men may become accustomed to her face, and find more beautytherein, than in the disguise she wears. The hidden thought at laststruggles forth into expression, and cherished passions assume a form inaction. One of the sophists has already given notice that he can teachany young man how to prove that right is wrong, or wrong is right. It issaid that Xanthippus has sent his son to benefit by these instructions, with a request that he may learn the art thoroughly, but be taught touse it only in the right way. "

"Your words are truth, my son, " answered the philosopher; "and the blameshould rest on those who taint the stream at its source, rather thanwith them who thoughtlessly drink of it in its wanderings. The great andthe gifted of Athens, instead of yielding reverent obedience to theunchangeable principle of truth, have sought to make it the servant oftheir own purposes. Forgetful of its eternal nature, they strive tochange it into arbitrary forms of their own creating; and then marvelbecause other minds present it in forms more gross and disgusting thantheir own. They do not ask what is just or unjust, true or untrue, butcontent themselves with recommending virtue, as far as it advancesinterest, or contributes to popularity; and when virtue ceases to befashionable, the multitude can no longer find a satisfactory reason foradhering to it. But when the teachers of the populace hear their vulgarpupils boldly declare that vice is as good as virtue, provided a man canfollow it with success, pride prevents them from seeing that this maximis one of their own doctrines stripped of its equestrian robes, andshown in democratic plainness. They did not venture to deride the gods, or even to assert that they took no cognizance of human affairs; butthey declared that offences against divine beings might be easily atonedfor by a trifling portion of their own gifts--a sheep, a basket offruit, or a few grains of salt, offered at stated seasons, with becomingdecorum; and then when alone together, they smiled that such concessionswere necessary to satisfy the superstitions of the vulgar. But disbeliefin divine beings, and the eternal nature of truth, cannot long beconcealed by pouring the usual libations, or maintaining a cautiousreserve. The whispered opinions of false philosophers will soon beloudly echoed by the popular voice, which is less timid, because it ismore honest. Even thus did Midas laboriously conceal the deformity ofhis head; but his barber, who saw him without disguise, whispered hissecret in the earth, and when the winds arose, the voices of a thousandreeds proclaimed to the world, 'King Midas hath ass's ears. '"

"The secret has already been whispered to the ground, " answeredPhilæmon, smiling: "If it were not so, the comic writers would not beable to give with impunity such grotesque and disgusting representationsof the gods. "

"And yet, " rejoined the old man, "I hear that Hermippus, who has himselfpersonified Hera on the stage, as an angry woman attempting to strikeinfuriated Zeus, is about to arraign me before the public tribunal, because I said the sun was merely a great ball of fire. This heconstrues into blasphemy against the life-giving Phoebus. "

"The accusation may be thus worded, " said Philæmon; "but your real crimeis that you stay away from political assemblies, and are thereforesuspected of being unfriendly to democratic institutions. Demosreluctantly admits that the right to hold such opinions is an inherentpart of liberty. Soothe the vanity of the dicasts by humbleacknowledgments, and gratify their avarice by a plentiful distributionof drachmæ; flatter the self-conceit of the Athenians, by assurancesthat they are the greatest, most glorious, and most consistent peopleupon earth; be careful that Cleon the tanner, and Thearion the baker, and Theophrastus the maker of lyres, are supplicated and praised in dueform--and, take my word for it, the gods will be left to punish you forwhatever offences you commit against them. They will receive noassistance from the violet-crowned city. "

"And you, my son, " replied the philosopher, "would never have beenexiled from Athens, if you had debated in the porticos with youngcitizens, who love to exhibit their own skill in deciding whether thetrue cause of the Trojan war were Helen, or the ship that carried heraway, or the man that built the ship, or the wood whereof it was made;if in your style you had imitated the swelling pomp of Isagoras, whereone solitary idea is rolled over and over in an ocean of words, like asmall pearl tossed about in the Ægean; if you had supped withHyperbolus, or been seen in the agoras, walking arm in arm with Cleon. With such a man as you to head their party, Pericles could not alwaysretain the ascendancy, by a more adroit use of their own weapons. "

"As soon would I league myself with the Odomantians of Thrace!"exclaimed Philæmon, with an expression of strong disgust. "It is suchmen who destroy the innocence of a republic, and cause that sacred nameto become a mockery among tyrants. The mean-souled wretches! Men whotake from the poor daily interest for a drachma, and spend it indebauchery. Citizens who applauded Pericles because he gave them anobolus for a vote, and are now willing to see him superseded by any manthat will give two oboli instead of one! No, my father--I could unitewith none but an honest party--men who love the state and forgetthemselves; and such are not now found in Athens. The few that existdare not form a barrier against the powerful current that wouldinevitably drive them to destruction. "

"You speak truth, Philæmon, " rejoined Anaxagoras: "Pallas Athenæ seemsto have deserted her chosen people. The proud Spartans openly laugh atour approaching downfall, while the smooth Persians watch for afavourable moment to destroy the freedom already rendered so weak by itsown insanity. "

"The fault will be attributed to democratic principles, " said Philæmon;"but the real difficulty exists in that love of power which hides itselfbeneath the mask of Democracy, until a corrupted public can endure itsundisguised features without execration. No one can believe thatPericles lessened the power of the Areopagus from a sincere convictionthat it was for the good of the people. It was done to obtain personalinfluence, by purchasing the favour of those who had sufficient reasonsfor desiring a less equitable tribunal. Nor could he have ever supposedthat the interests of the republic would be advanced by men whom thegift of an obolus could induce to vote. The Athenians have been spoiledby ambitious demagogues, who now try to surfeit them with flattery, asnurses seek to pacify noisy children with sponges dipped in honey. Theystrive to drown the din of domestic discord in boasts of foreignconquests; and seek to hide corruption in a blaze of glory, as theyconcealed their frauds amid the flames of the treasury. "

"Pericles no doubt owes his great popularity to skill in availinghimself of existing circumstances, " replied Anaxagoras; "and I am afraidthat the same motives for corrupting, and the same willingness to becorrupted, will always be found in democratic institutions. "

"It has always been matter of surprise to me, " said Philæmon, "that oneso humble and frugal as yourself, and so zealous for the equal rights ofall men, even the meanest citizens, should yet be so little friendly tothat popular idol which the Athenians call Demos. "

The philosopher rejoined: "When I was young, I heard it said ofLycurgus, that being asked why he, who was such a friend to equality, did not bestow a democratic government upon Sparta, he answered: "Go andtry a democracy in your own house. " The reply pleased me; and a longresidence in Athens has not yet taught me to believe that a man who isgoverned by ten thousand masters has more freedom than he who isgoverned by one. "

"If kings had the same natural affection for their subjects that parentshave for their children, the comparison of Lycurgus would be just, "answered Philæmon. 

"And what think you of the paternal kindness of this republican decreewhereby five thousand citizens have been sold into slavery, because theunjust confiscation of their estates rendered them unable to pay theirdebts?" said Anaxagoras. 

"Such an edict was passed because Athens is _not_ a republic, " repliedPhilæmon. "All things are under the control of Pericles; and Aspasiarules him. When she heard that I remonstrated against his shamefulmarriage, she said she would sooner or later bring a Trojan horse intomy house. She has fulfilled her threat by the same means that enabledPericles to destroy the political power of some of his most influentialenemies. "

"Pericles has indeed obtained unbounded influence, " rejoined Anaxagoras;"but he did it by counterfeiting the very principle that needed to bechecked; and this is so easily counterfeited, that democracy is alwaysin danger of becoming tyranny in disguise. The Athenians are as servileto their popular idol, as the Persians to their hereditary one; but thepopular idol seeks to sustain his power by ministering to that love ofchange, which allows nothing to remain sacred and established. Hence, two opposite evils are combined in action--the reality of despotismwith the form of democracy; the power of a tyrant with theirresponsibility of a multitude. But, in judging of Pericles, you, myson, should strive to guard against political enmity, as I do againstpersonal affection. It cannot be denied that he has often made good useof his influence. When Cimon brought the remains of Theseus to Athens, and a temple was erected over them in obedience to the oracle, it was hewho suggested to the people that a hero celebrated for relieving theoppressed could not be honoured more appropriately than by making histemple a refuge for abused slaves. "

"Friendly as I am to a government truly republican, " answered Philæmon, "it is indeed difficult to forgive the man who seduces a democracy tothe commission of suicide, for his own advancement. His great abilitieswould receive my admiration, if they were not employed in the service ofambition. As for this new edict, it will prove a rebounding arrow, striking him who sent it. He will find ten enemies for one in thekindred of the banished. "

"While we have been talking thus sadly, " said the old philosopher, "thefragrant thyme and murmuring bees give cheerful notice that we areapproaching Mount Hymettus. I see the worthy peasant, Tellus, from whomI have often received refreshment of bread and grapes; and if it pleaseyou we will share his bounty now. "

The peasant respectfully returned their friendly greeting, and readilyfurnished clusters from his luxuriant vineyard. As the travellers seatedthemselves beneath the shelter of the vines, Tellus asked, "What newsfrom Athens?"

"None of importance, " replied Anaxagoras, "excepting rumours ofapproaching war, and this new edict, by which so many citizens aresuddenly reduced to poverty. "

"There are always those in Athens who are like the eel-catchers, thatchoose to have the waters troubled, " observed the peasant. "When the lakeis still, they lose their labour; but when the mud is well stirred, theytake eels in plenty. My son says he gets twelve oboli for a conger-eel, in the Athenian markets; and that is a goodly price. "

The travellers smiled, and contented themselves with praising hisgrapes, without further allusion to the politics of Athens. But Tellusresumed the discourse, by saying, "So, I hear my old neighbour, Philargus, has been tried for idleness. "

"Even so, " rejoined Anaxagoras; "and his condemnation has proved thebest luck he ever had. The severe sentence of death was changed into aheavy fine; and Lysidas, the Spartan, immediately begged to beintroduced to him, as the only gentleman he had seen or heard of inAthens. He has paid the fine for him, and invited him to Lacedæmon;that he may show his proud countrymen one Athenian who does not disgracehimself by industry. "

"That comes of having the Helots among them, " said Tellus. "My boymarried a Spartan wife, and I can assure you she is a woman that lookslightning, and speaks mustard. When my son first told her to take thefish from his basket, she answered angrily, that she was no Helot. "

"I heard this same Lysidas, the other day, " said Philæmon, "boastingthat the Spartans were the only real freemen; and Lacedæmon the onlyplace where courage and virtue always found a sure reward. I asked himwhat reward the Helots had for bravery or virtue. 'They are notscourged; and that is sufficient reward for the base hounds, ' was hiscontemptuous reply. He approves the law forbidding masters to bestowfreedom on their slaves; and likes the custom which permits boys to whipthem, merely to remind them of their bondage. He ridicules the idea thatinjustice will weaken the strength of Sparta, because the gods areenemies to injustice. He says the sun of liberty shines brighter withthe dark atmosphere of slavery around it; as temperance seems morelovely to the Spartan youth, after they have seen the Helots madebeastly drunk for their amusement. He seems to forget that the passionsare the same in every human breast; and that it is never wise in anystate to create natural enemies at her own doors. But the Lacedæmoniansmake it a rule never to speak of danger from their slaves. They remindme of the citizens of Amyclæ, who, having been called from theiroccupations by frequent rumours of war, passed a vote that no man shouldbe allowed, under heavy penalties, to believe any report of intendedinvasion. When the enemy really came, no man dared to speak of theirapproach, and Amyclæ was easily conquered. Lysidas boasted of salutarycruelty; and in the same breath told me the Helots loved their masters. "

"As the Spartan boys love Orthia, at whose altar they yearly receive abloody whipping, " said Tellus, laughing. 

"There is one great mistake in Lacedæmonian institutions, " observedAnaxagoras: "They seek to avoid the degrading love of money, by placingevery citizen above the necessity of laborious occupation; but theyforget that the love of tyranny may prove an evil still more dangerousto the state. "

"You speak justly, my father, " answered Philæmon: "The Athenian law, which condemns any man for speaking disrespectfully of his neighbour'strade, is most wise; and it augurs ill for Athens that some of her youngequestrians begin to think it unbecoming to bring home provisions fortheir own dinner from the agoras. "

"Alcibiades, for instance!" exclaimed the philosopher: "He wouldconsider himself disgraced by any other burthen than his fightingquails, which he carries out to take the air. "

Philæmon started up suddenly--for the name of Alcibiades stung him likea serpent. Immediately recovering his composure, he turned to recompensethe hospitality of the honest peasant, and to bid him a friendlyfarewell. 

But Tellus answered bluntly; "No, young Athenian; I like yoursentiments, and will not touch your coin. The gods bless you. "

The travellers having heartily returned his parting benediction, slowlyascended Mount Hymettus. When they paused to rest upon its summit, aglorious prospect lay stretched out before them. On the north, wereMegara, Eleusis, and the cynosure of Marathon; in the south, numerousislands, like a flock of birds, reposed on the bright bosom of theAegean; to the west, was the broad Piræus with its thousand ships, andAthens in all her magnificence of beauty; while the stately buildings ofdistant Corinth mingled with the cloudless sky. The declining sun threwhis refulgent mantle over the lovely scene, and temples, towers, andvillas glowed in the purple light. 

The travellers stood for a few moments in perfect silence--Philæmonwith folded arms, and Anaxagoras leaning on his staff. At length, intones of deep emotion, the young man exclaimed, "Oh, Athens, how I haveloved thee! Thy glorious existence has been a part of my own being! Forthy prosperity how freely would I have poured out my blood! The godsbless thee, and save thee from thyself!"

"Who could look upon her and not bless her in his heart?" said the oldphilosopher: "There she stands, fair as the heaven-born Pallas, in allher virgin majesty! But alas for Athens, when every man boasts of hisown freedom, and no man respects the freedom of his neighbour. Peaceful, she seems, in her glorious beauty; but the volcano is heaving within, and already begins to throw forth its showers of smoke and stones. "

"Would that the gods had permitted me to share her dangers--to die andmingle with her beloved soil!" exclaimed Philæmon. 

The venerable philosopher looked up, and saw intense wretchedness in thecountenance of his youthful friend. He laid his hand kindly uponPhilæmon's arm; "Nay, my son, " said he; "You must not take this unjustdecree so much to heart. Of Athens nothing can be so certainly predictedas change. Things as trifling as the turning of a shell may restore youto your rights. You can even now return, if you will submit to be a meresojourner in Athens. After all, what vast privileges do you lose withyour citizenship. You must indeed wrestle at Cynosarges, instead of theLyceum or the Academia; but in this, the great Themistocles has givenyou honourable example. You will not be allowed to enter the theatrewhile the Athenians keep the second day of their festival Anthesteria;but to balance this privation, you are forbidden to vote, and are thusfreed from all blame belonging to unjust and capricious laws. "

"My father, playful words cannot cure the wound, " replied the exile, seriously: "The cherished recollections of years cannot be so easilytorn from the heart. Athens, with all her faults, is still my own, mybeautiful, my beloved land. They might have killed me, if they would, ifI had but died an Athenian citizen. "

He spoke with a voice deeply agitated; but after a few moments of forcedcomposure, he continued more cheerfully: "Let us speak of othersubjects. We are standing here, on the self-same spot where Aristo andPerictione laid the infant Plato, while they sacrificed to thelife-giving Phoebus. It was here the bees clustered about his infantmouth, and his mother hailed the omen of his future eloquence. Commendme to that admirable man, and tell him I shall vainly seek throughoutthe world to find another Plato. 

"Commend me likewise to the Persian Artaphernes. To his bounty I am muchindebted. Lest he should hope that I carry away feelings hostile toAthens, and favourable to her enemies, say to the kind old man, thatPhilæmon will never forget his country or his friends. I have left along letter to Paralus, in which my full heart has but feebly expressedits long-cherished friendship. When you return, you will find a triflingtoken of remembrance for yourself and Philothea. May Pallas shower herrichest blessings upon that pure and gifted maiden. "

With some hesitation, Anaxagoras said, "You make no mention of Eudora;and I perceive that both you and Philothea are reserved when her name ismentioned. Do not believe every idle rumour, my son. The gayety of alight-hearted maiden is often unmixed with boldness, or crime. Do notcast her from you too lightly. "

Philæmon averted his face for a moment, and struggled hard with hisfeelings. Then turning abruptly, he pressed the old man's hand, andsaid, "Bid Philothea, guide and cherish her deluded friend, for my sake. And now, farewell, Anaxagoras! Farewell, forever! my kind, my good oldmaster. May the gods bless the wise counsels and virtuous example youhave given me. "

The venerable philosopher stretched forth his arms to embrace him. Theyoung man threw himself upon that friendly bosom, and overcome by avariety of conflicting emotions, sobbed aloud. 

As they parted, Anaxagoras again pressed Philæmon to his heart, andsaid, "May that God, whose numerous attributes the Grecians worship, forever bless thee, my dear son. "

CHAPTER X. 

 Courage, Orestes! if the lots hit right, If the black pebbles don't exceed the white, You're safe. EURIPIDES. 

Pericles sought to please the populace by openly using his influence todiminish the power of the Areopagus; and a decree had been passed thatthose who denied the existence of the gods, or introduced new opinionsabout celestial things, should be tried by the people. This event provedfortunate for some of his personal friends; for Hermippus soon laidbefore the Thesmothetæ Archons an accusation of blasphemy againstAnaxagoras, Phidias, and Aspasia. The case was tried before the fourthAssembly of the people; and the fame of the accused, together with thewell-known friendship of Pericles, attracted an immense crowd; insomuchthat the Prytaneum was crowded to overflowing. The prisoners came in, attended by the Phylarchi of their different wards. Anaxagoras retainedhis usual bland expression and meek dignity. Phidias walked with ahaughtier tread, and carried his head more proudly. Aspasia was veiled;but as she glided along, gracefully as a swan on the bosom of stillwaters, loud murmurs of approbation were heard from the crowd. Periclesseated himself near them, with deep sadness on his brow. The moon hadnot completed its revolution since he had seen Phidias arraigned beforethe Second Assembly of the people, charged by Menon, one of his ownpupils, with having defrauded the state of gold appropriated to thestatue of Pallas. Fortunately, the sculptor had arranged the preciousmetal so that it could be taken off and weighed; and thus his innocencewas easily made manifest. But the great statesman had seen, by manyindications, that the blow was in part aimed at himself through hisfriends; and that his enemies were thus trying to ascertain how far thepeople could be induced to act in opposition to his well-known wishes. The cause had been hurried before the assembly, and he perceived thathis opponents were there in great numbers. As soon as the Epistatesbegan to read the accusation, Pericles leaned forward, and burying hisface in his robe, remained motionless. 

Anaxagoras was charged with not having offered victims to the gods; andwith having blasphemed the divine Phoebus, by saying the sun was only ahuge ball of fire. Being called upon to answer whether he were guilty ofthis offence, he replied: "Living victims I have never sacrificed to thegods; because, like the Pythagoreans, I object to the shedding of blood;but, like the disciples of their sublime philosopher, I have dulyoffered on their altars small goats and rams made of wax. I did say Ibelieved the sun to be a great ball of fire; and deemed not that in sodoing I had blasphemed the divine Phoebus. "

When he had finished, it was proclaimed aloud that any Athenian, notdisqualified by law, might speak. Cleon arose, and said it was wellknown to the disciples of Anaxagoras, that he taught the existence ofbut one God. Euripides, Pericles, and others who had been his pupils, were separately called to bear testimony; and all said he taught OneUniversal Mind, of which all other divinities were the attributes; evenas Homer represented the inferior deities subordinate to Zeus. 

When the philosopher was asked whether he believed in the gods, heanswered, "I do: but I believe in them as the representatives of variousattributes in One Universal Mind. " He was then required to swear by allthe gods, and by the dreaded Erinnys, that he had spoken truly. 

The Prytanes informed the assembly that their vote must decide whetherthis avowed doctrine r endered Anaxagoras of Clazomenæ worthy of death. A brazen urn was carried round, in which every citizen deposited apebble. When counted, the black pebbles predominated over the white, andAnaxagoras was condemned to die. 

The old man heard it very calmly, and replied: "Nature pronounced thatsentence upon me before I was born. Do what you will, Athenians, ye canonly injure the outward case of Anaxagoras; the real, immortalAnaxagoras is beyond your power. "

Phidias was next arraigned, and accused of blasphemy, in having carvedthe likeness of himself and Pericles on the shield of heaven-bornPallas; and of having said that he approved the worship of the gods, merely because he wished to have his own works adored. The sculptorproudly replied, "I never declared that my own likeness, or that ofPericles, was on the shield of heaven-born Pallas; nor can any Athenianprove that I ever intended to place them there. I am not answerable foroffences which have their origin in the eyes of the multitude. If_their_ quick discernment be the test, crimes may be found written evenon the glowing embers of our household altars. I never said I approvedthe worship of the gods because I wished to have my own works adored;for I should have deemed it irreverent thus to speak of divine beings. Some learned and illustrious guests, who were at the symposium inAspasia's house, discoursed concerning the worship of images, apart fromthe idea of any divine attributes, which they represented. I said Iapproved not of this; and playfully added, that if it were otherwise, Imight perchance be excused for sanctioning the worship of mere images, since mortals were ever willing to have their own works adored. " Thetestimony of Pericles, Alcibiades, and Plato, confirmed the truth of hiswords. 

Cleon declared it was commonly believed that Phidias decoyed the maidsand matrons of Athens to his house, under the pretence of seeingsculpture; but in reality to minister to the profligacy of Pericles. Thesculptor denied the charge; and required that proof should be given ofone Athenian woman, who had visited his house, unattended by her husbandor her father. The enemies of Pericles could easily have procured suchevidence with gold; but when Cleon sought again to speak, the Prytanescommanded silence; and briefly reminded the people that the FourthAssembly had power to decide concerning religious matters only. Hermippus, in a speech of considerable length, urged that Phidias seldomsacrificed to the gods; and that he must have intended likenesses on theshield of Pallas, because even Athenian children recognized them. 

The brazen urn was again passed round, and the black pebbles were morenumerous than they had been when the fate of Anaxagoras was decided. When Phidias heard the sentence, he raised himself to his full stature, and waving his right arm over the crowd, said, in a loud voice: "Phidiascan never die! Athens herself will live in the fame of Charmides' son. "His majestic figure and haughty bearing awed the multitude; and some, repenting of the vote they had given, said, "Surely, invisible Phoebusis with him!"

Aspasia was next called to answer the charges brought against her. Shehad dressed herself, in deep mourning, as if appealing to the compassionof the citizens; and her veil was artfully arranged to display an armand shoulder of exquisite whiteness and beauty, contrasted with glossyringlets of dark hair, that carelessly rested on it. She was accused ofsaying that the sacred baskets of Demeter contained nothing of so muchimportance as the beautiful maidens who carried them; and that thetemple of Poseidon was enriched with no offerings from those who hadbeen wrecked, notwithstanding their supplications--thereby implyingirreverent doubts of the power of Ocean's god. To this, Aspasia, inclear and musical tones, replied: "I said not that the sacred baskets ofDemeter contained nothing of so much importance as the beautiful maidenswho carried them. But, in playful allusion to the love of beauty, soconspicuous in Alcibiades, I said that _he_, who was initiated into themysteries of Eleusis, might think, the baskets less attractive than thelovely maidens who carried them. Irreverence was not in my thoughts;but inasmuch as my careless words implied it, I have offered atoningsacrifices to the mother of Persephone, during which I abstained fromall amusements. When I declared that the temple of Poseidon contained noofferings in commemoration of men that had been wrecked, I said it inreproof of those who fail to supplicate the gods for the manes of thedeparted. They who perish on the ocean, may have offended Poseidon, orthe Virgin Sisters of the Deep; and on their altars should offerings belaid by surviving friends. 

"No man can justly accuse me of disbelief in the gods; for it is wellknown that with every changing moon I offer on the altars of Aphrodite, doves and sparrows, with baskets of apples, roses and myrtles: and whoin Athens has not seen the ivory car drawn by golden swans, which thegrateful Aspasia placed in the temple of that love-inspiring deity?"

Phidias could scarcely restrain a smile, as he listened to this defence;and when the fair casuist swore by all the gods, and by the Erinnys, that she had spoken truly, Anaxagoras looked up involuntarily, with anexpression of child-like astonishment. Alcibiades promptly corroboratedher statement. Plato, being called to testify, gravely remarked that shehad uttered those words, and she alone could explain her motives. Thepopulace seemed impressed in her favour; and when it was put to votewhether sentence of death should be passed, an universal murmur arose, of "Exile! Exile!"

The Epistates requested that all who wished to consider it a question ofexile, rather than of death, would signify the same by holding up theirhands. With very few exceptions, the crowd were inclined to mercy. Hermippus gave tokens of displeasure, and hastily rose to accuse Aspasiaof corrupting the youth of Athens, by the introduction of singing anddancing women, and by encouraging the matrons of Greece to appearunveiled. 

A loud laugh followed his remarks; for the comic actor was himself farfrom aiding public morals by an immaculate example. 

The Prytanes again reminded him that charges of this nature must bedecided by the First Assembly of the people; and, whether true oruntrue, ought to have no influence on religious questions brought beforethe Fourth Assembly. 

Hermippus was perfectly aware of this; but he deemed that the vote mightbe affected by his artful suggestion. 

The brazen urn was again carried round; and fifty-one pebbles onlyappeared in disapprobation of exile. 

Then Pericles arose, and looked around him with calm dignity. He wasseldom seen in public, even at entertainments; hence, something ofsacredness was attached to his person, like the Salaminian galleyreserved for great occasions. A murmur like the Distant ocean was heard, as men whispered to each other, "Lo, Pericles is about to speak!" Whenthe tumult subsided, he said, in a loud voice, "If any here can accusePericles of having enriched himself at the expense of the state, let himhold up his right hand!"

Not a hand was raised--for his worst enemies could not deny that he wastemperate and frugal. 

After a slight pause, he again resumed: "If any man can show thatPericles ever asked a public favour for himself or his friends, let himspeak!" No words were uttered; but a murmur of discontent was heard inthe vicinity of Cleon and Hermippus. 

The illustrious statesman folded his arms, and waited in quiet majestyfor the murmur to assume a distinct form. When all was hashed, hecontinued: "If any man believes that Athens has declined in beauty, wealth, or power, since the administration of Pericles, let him give hisopinion freely!"

National enthusiasm was kindled; and many voices exclaimed, "HailPericles! All hail to Athens in her glory!"

The statesman gracefully waved his hand toward the multitude, as hereplied, "Thanks, friends and brother-citizens. Who among you isdisposed to grant to Pericles one favour, not inconsistent with yourlaws, or in opposition to the decrees of this assembly?"

A thousand hands were instantly raised. Pericles again expressed histhanks, and said, "The favour I have to ask is, that the execution ofthese decrees be suspended, until the oracle of Amphiaraus can beconsulted. If it please you, let a vote be taken who shall be themessenger. "

The proposal was accepted; and Antiphon, a celebrated diviner, appointedto consult the oracle. 

As the crowd dispersed, Cleon muttered to Hermippus, "By Circe! Ibelieve he has given the Athenians philtres to make them love him. Nowonder Archidamus of Sparta said, that when he threw Pericles inwrestling, he insisted he was never down, and persuaded the veryspectators to believe him. "

Anaxagoras and Phidias, being under sentence of death, were placed inprison, until the people should finally decide upon their fate. The oldphilosopher cheerfully employed his hours in attempts to square thecircle. The sculptor carved a wooden image, with many hands and feet, and without a head; upon the pedestal of which he inscribed Demos, andsecretly reserved it as a parting gift to the Athenian people. 

Before another moon had waned, Antiphon returned from Oropus, whither hehad been sent to consult the oracle. Being called before the people, hegave the following account of his mission: "I abstained from food untilPhoebus had twice appeared above the hills, in his golden chariot; andfor three days and three nights, I tasted no wine. When I had thuspurified myself, I offered a white ram to Amphiaraus; and spreading theskin on the ground, I invoked the blessing of Phoebus and his propheticson, and laid me down to sleep. Methought I walked in the streets ofAthens. A lurid light shone on the walls of the Piræus, and spread intothe city, until all the Acropolis seemed glowing beneath a fiery sky. Ilooked up--and lo! the heavens were in a blaze! Huge masses of flamewere thrown backward and forward, as if Paridamator and the Cyclops werehurling their forges at each other's heads. Amazed, I turned to ask themeaning of these phenomena; and I saw that all the citizens were clothedin black; and wherever two were walking together, one fell dead by hisside. Then I heard a mighty voice, that seemed to proceed from withinthe Parthenon. Three times it pronounced distinctly, 'Wo! wo! wo untoAthens!

"I awoke, and after a time slept again. I heard a rumbling noise, likethunder; and from the statue of Amphiaraus came a voice, saying, 'Lifeis given by the gods. '

"Then all was still. Presently I again heard a sound like themultitudinous waves of ocean, when it rises in a storm--and Amphiaraussaid, slowly, 'Count the pebbles on the seashore--yea, count themtwice. ' Then I awoke; and having bathed in the fountain, I threw thereinthree pieces of gold and silver, and departed. "

The people demanded of Antiphon the meaning of these visions. Hereplied: "The first portends calamity to Athens, either of war orpestilence. By the response of the oracle, I understand that thecitizens are commanded to vote twice, before they take away life givenby the gods. "

The wish to gain time had chiefly induced Pericles to request thatAmphiaraus might be consulted. In the interval, his emissaries had beenbusy in softening the minds of the people; and it became universallyknown that in case Aspasia's sentence were reversed, she intended tooffer sacrifices to Aphrodite, Poseidon, and Demeter; during thecontinuance of which, the citizens would be publicly feasted at herexpense. 

In these exertions, Pericles was zealously assisted by Clinias, a nobleand wealthy Athenian, the friend of Anaxagoras and Phidias, and amunificent patron of the arts. He openly promised, if the lives of hisfriends were spared, to evince his gratitude to the gods, by offering agolden lamp to Pallas Parthenia, and placing in each of the agoras anystatue or painting the people thought fit to propose. 

Still, Pericles, aware of the bitterness of his enemies, increased bythe late severe edict against those of foreign parentage, feltexceedingly fearful of the result of a second vote. A petition, signedby Pericles, Clinias, Ephialtes, Euripides, Socrates, Plato, Alcibiades, Paralus, and many other distinguished citizens, was sent into the SecondAssembly of the people, begging that the accused might have anothertrial; and this petition was granted. 

When the Fourth Assembly again met, strong efforts were made to fill thePrytaneum at a very early hour with the friends of Pericles. 

The great orator secluded himself for three preceding days, andrefrained from wine. During this time, he poured plentiful libations ofmilk and honey to Hermes, god of Eloquence, and sacrificed the tonguesof nightingales to Peitho, goddess of Persuasion. 

When he entered the Prytaneum, it was remarked that he had never beforebeen seen to look so pale; and this circumstance, trifling as it was, excited the ready sympathies of the people. When the Epistates read theaccusation against Anaxagoras, and proclaimed that any Athenian, notdisqualified by law, might speak, Pericles arose. For a moment he lookedon the venerable countenance of the old philosopher, and seemed tostruggle with his emotions. Then, with sudden impulse, he exclaimed, "Look on him, Athenians! and judge ye if he be one accursed of thegods!--He is charged with having said that the sun is a great ball offire; and therein ye deem that the abstractions of philosophy have ledhim to profane the sacred name of Phoebus. We are told that Zeus assumedthe form of an eagle, a serpent, and a golden shower; yet these forms donot affect our belief in the invisible god. If Phoebus appeared on earthin the disguise of a woman and a shepherd, is it unpardonable for aphilosopher to suppose that the same deity may choose to reside within aball of fire? In the garden of Anaxagoras, you will find a statue ofPallas, carved from an olive-tree. He brought it with him from Ionia;and those disciples who most frequent his house, can testify thatsacrifices were ever duly offered upon her altar. Who among you everreceived an injury from that kind old man? He was the descendant ofprinces, --yet gave up gold for philosophy, and forbore to governmankind, that he might love them more perfectly. Ask the young noble, who has been to him as a father; and his response will be 'Anaxagoras. 'Ask the poor fisherman at the gates, who has been to him as a brother;and he will answer 'Anaxagoras. ' When the merry-hearted boys throng yourdoors to sing their welcome to Ornithæ, inquire from whom they receivethe kindest word and the readiest gift; and they will tell you, 'Anaxagoras. ' The Amphiaraus of Eschylus, says, 'I do not wish to_appear_ to be a good man, but I wish to _be_ one. ' Ask any of thepoets, what living man most resembles Amphiaraus in this sentiment; andhis reply will surely be, 'It is Anaxagoras. '

"Again I say, Athenians, look upon his face; and judge ye if he be oneaccursed of the gods!"

The philosopher had leaned on his staff, and looked downward, while hisillustrious pupil made this defence; and when he had concluded, a tearwas seen slowly trickling down his aged cheek. His accusers again urgedthat he had taught the doctrine of one god, under the name of OneUniversal Mind; but the melodious voice and fluent tongue of Pericleshad so wrought upon the citizens, that when the question was proposed, whether the old man were worthy of death, there arose a clamourous cryof "Exile! Exile!"

The successful orator did not venture to urge the plea of entireinnocence; for he felt that he still had too much depending on thecapricious favour of the populace. 

The aged philosopher received his sentence with thanks; and calmlyadded, "Anaxagoras is not exiled from Athens; but Athens fromAnaxagoras. Evil days are coming on this city; and those who are toodistant to perceive the trophy at Salamis will deem themselves mostblessed. Pythagoras said, 'When the tempest is rising, 'tis wise toworship the echo. '"

After the accusation against Phidias had been read, Pericles again roseand said, "Athenians! I shall speak briefly; for I appeal to what everycitizen values more than his fortune or his name. I plead for the gloryof Athens. When strangers from Ethiopia, Egypt, Phoenicia, and distantTaprobane, come to witness the far-famed beauty of the violet-crownedcity, they will stand in mute worship before the Parthenon; and whentheir wonder finds utterance, they will ask what the Athenians bestowedon an artist so divine. Who among you could look upon the image ofVirgin Pallas, resplendent in her heavenly majesty, and not blush totell the barbarian stranger that death was the boon you bestowed onPhidias?

"Go, gaze on the winged statue of Rhamnusia, where vengeance seems tobreathe from the marble sent by Darius to erect his trophy on the plainsof Marathon! Then turn and tell the proud Persian that the hand whichwrought those fair proportions, lies cold and powerless, by vote of theAthenian people. No--ye could not say it: your hearts would choke yourvoices. Ye could not tell the barbarian that Athens thus destroyed oneof the most gifted of her sons. "

The crowd answered in a thunder of applause; mingled with the cry of"Exile! Exile!" A few voices shouted, "A fine! A fine!" Then Cleon aroseand said: "Miltiades asked for an olive crown; and a citizen answered, 'When Miltiades conquers alone, let him be crowned alone. ' When Phidiascan show that he built the Parthenon without the assistance of Ictinus, Myron, Callicrates, and others, then let him have the whole credit ofthe Parthenon. "

To this, Pericles replied, "We are certainly much indebted to thoseartists for many of the beautiful and graceful details of that sublimecomposition; but with regard to the majestic design of the Parthenon, Phidias conquered alone, and may therefore justly be crowned alone. "

A vote was taken on the question of exile, and the black pebblespredominated. The sculptor heard his sentence with a proud gesture, notunmingled with scorn; and calmly replied, "They can banish Phidias fromAthens, more easily than I can take from them the fame of Phidias. "

When Pericles replied to the charges against Aspasia, his countenancebecame more pale, and his voice was agitated: "You all know, " said he, "That Aspasia is of Miletus. That city which poets call the laughingdaughter of Earth and Heaven: where even the river smiles, as it windsalong in graceful wanderings, eager to kiss every new blossom, and courtthe dalliance of every breeze. Do ye not find it easy to forgive awoman, born under those joyful skies, where beauty rests on the earth ina robe of sunbeams, and inspires the gayety which pours itself forth inplayful words? Can ye judge harshly of one, who from her very childhoodhas received willing homage, as the favourite of Aphrodite, Phoebus, andthe Muses? If she spoke irreverently, it was done in thoughtless mirth;and she has sought to atone for it by sacrifices and tears. 

"Athenians! I have never boasted; and if I seem to do it now, it ishumbly, --as befits one who seeks a precious boon. In your service I havespent many toilsome days and sleepless nights. That I have not enrichedmyself by it, is proved by the well-known fact that my own son blames myfrugality, and reproachfully calls me the slave of the Athenian people. "

He paused for a moment, and held his hand over Aspasia's head, as hecontinued: "In the midst of perplexities and cares, here I have everfound a solace and a guide. Here are treasured up the affections of myheart. It is not for Aspasia, the gifted daughter of Axiochus, that Iplead. It is for Aspasia, the beloved wife of Pericles. "

Tears choked his utterance; but stifling his emotion, he exclaimed, "Athenians! if ye would know what it is that thus unmans a soul capableof meeting death with calmness, behold, and judge for yourselves!"

As he spoke, he raised Aspasia's veil. Her drapery had been studiouslyarranged to display her loveliness to the utmost advantage; and as shestood forth radiant in beauty, the building rung with the acclamationsthat were sent forth, peal after peal, by the multitude. 

Pericles had not in vain calculated on the sympathies of a volatile andardent people, passionately fond of the beautiful, in all its forms. Aspasia remained in Athens, triumphant over the laws of religion andmorality. 

Clinias desired leave to speak in behalf of Philothea, grandchild ofAnaxagoras; and the populace, made good-humoured by their own clemency, expressed a wish to hear. He proceeded as follows: "Philothea, --whom youall know was, not long since, one of the Canephoræ, and embroidered thesplendid peplus exhibited at the last Panathenæa--humbly begs of theAthenians, that Eudora, Dione, and Geta, slaves of Phidias, may remainunder his protection, and not be confiscated with his household goods. Acontribution would have been raised, to buy these individuals of thestate, were it not deemed an insult to that proud and generous people, who fined a citizen for proposing marble as a cheaper material thanivory for the statue of Pallas Parthenia. "

The request, thus aided by flattery, was almost unanimously granted. Oneblack pebble alone appeared in the urn; and that was from the hand ofAlcibiades. 

Clinias expressed his thanks, and holding up the statue of Urania, headded: "In token of gratitude for this boon, and for the life of abeloved grandfather, Philothea consecrates to Pallas Athenæ this imageof the star-worshipping muse; the gift of a munificent Ethiopian. "

The populace, being in gracious mood, forthwith voted that the exileshad permission to carry with them any articles valued as the gift offriendship. 

The Prytanes dismissed the assembly; and as they dispersed, Alcibiadesscattered small coins among them. Aspasia immediately sent to thePrytaneum an ivory statue of Mnemosyne, smiling as she looked back on agroup of Hours; a magnificent token that she would never forget theclemency of the Athenian people. 

Hermippus took an early opportunity to proclaim the exhibition of a newcomedy called Hercules and Omphale; and the volatile citizens throngedthe theatre, to laugh at that infatuated tenderness, which in thePrytaneum had well nigh moved them to tears. The actor openly ridiculedthem for having been so much influenced by their orator'sleast-successful attempt at eloquence; but in the course of the sameplay, Cratinus raised a laugh at his expense, by saying facetiously:"Lo! Hermippus would speak like Pericles! Hear him, Athenians! Is he notas successful as Salmoneus, when he rolled his chariot over a brazenbridge, and hurled torches to imitate the thunder and lightning ofZeus?"

When the day of trial had passed, Pericles slept soundly; for his heartwas relieved from a heavy pressure. But personal enemies and enviousartists were still active; and it was soon buzzed abroad that the peoplerepented of the vote they had given. The exiles had been allowed tendays to sacrifice to the gods, bid farewell to friends, and prepare fordeparture; but on the third day, at evening twilight, Pericles enteredthe dwelling of his revered old master. "My father, " said he, "I amtroubled in spirit. I have just now returned from the Piræus, where Isought an interview with Clinias, who daily visits the Deigma, and has abetter opportunity than I can have to hear the news of Athens. I foundhim crowned with garlands; for he had been offering sacrifices in thehall. He told me he had thus sought to allay the anxiety of his mindwith regard to yourself and Phidias. He fears the capricious Athenianswill reverse their decree. "

"Alas, Pericles, " replied the old man, "what can you expect of a people, when statesmen condescend to buy justice at their hands, by promisedfeasts, and scattered coin?"

"Nay, blame me not, Anaxagoras, " rejoined Pericles; "I cannot govern asI would. I found the people corrupted; and I must humour their disease. Your life must be saved; even if you reprove me for the means. Atmidnight, a boat will be in readiness to conduct you to Salamis, wherelies a galley bound for Ionia. I hasten to warn Phidias to departspeedily for Elis. "

The parting interview between Philothea and her repentant friend wasalmost too painful for endurance. Poor Eudora felt that she was indeedcalled to drink the cup of affliction, to its last bitter drop. Herheart yearned to follow the household of Anaxagoras; but Philotheastrengthened her own conviction that duty and gratitude both demandedshe should remain with Phidias. 

Geta and Milza likewise had their sorrows--the harder to endure, becausethey were the first they had ever encountered. The little peasant was soyoung, and her lover so poor, that their friends thought a union hadbetter be deferred. But Milza was free: and Anaxagoras told her itdepended on her own choice, to go with them, or follow Geta. Thegrateful Arcadian dropped on one knee, and kissing Philothea's hand, while the tears flowed down her cheeks, said: "She has been a mother toorphan Milza, and I will not leave her now. Geta says it would be wrongto leave her when she is in affliction. "

Philothea, with a gentle smile, put back the ringlets from her tearfuleyes, and told her not to weep for her sake; for she should be resignedand cheerful, wheresover the gods might place her; but Milza saw thather smiles were sad. 

At midnight, Pericles came, to accompany Anaxagoras to Salamis. Paralusand Philothea had been conversing much, and singing their favouritesongs together, for the last time. The brow of the ambitious statesmanbecame clouded, when he observed that his son had been in tears; hebegged that preparations for departure might be hastened. The young manfollowed them to the Piræus; but Pericles requested him to go nofurther. The restraint of his presence prevented any parting less formalthan that of friendship. But he stood watching the boat that conveyedthem over the waters; and when the last ripple left in its wake haddisappeared, he slowly returned to Athens. 

The beautiful city stoood before him, mantled in moonlight's silveryveil. Yet all seemed cheerless; for the heart of Paralus was desolate. He looked toward the beloved mansion near the gate Diocharis; drew fromhis bosom a long lock of golden hair; and leaning against the statue ofHermes, bowed down his head and wept. 

CHAPTER XI. 

 "How I love the mellow sage, Smiling through the veil of age! Age is on his temples hung, But his heart--his heart is young!" ANACREON

A few years passed away, and saw Anaxagoras the contented resident of asmall village near Lampsacus, in Ionia. That he still fondly cherishedAthens in his heart was betrayed only by the frequent walks he took to aneighbouring eminence, where he loved to sit and look toward the Ægean;but the feebleness of age gradually increased, until he could no longertake his customary exercise. Philothea watched over him with renewedtenderness; and the bright tranquillity he received from the world hewas fast approaching, shone with reflected light upon her innocent soul. At times, the maiden was so conscious of this holy influence, that allthe earthly objects around her seemed like dreams of some strangeforeign land. 

One morning, after they had partaken their frugal repast, she said, in acheerful tone, "Dear grandfather, I had last night a pleasant dream; andMilza says it is prophetic, because she had filled my pillow with freshlaurel leaves. I dreamed that a galley, with three banks of oars, andadorned with fillets, came to carry us back to Athens. "

With a faint smile, Anaxagoras replied, "Alas for unhappy Athens! Ifhalf we hear be true, her exiled children can hardly wish to be restoredto her bosom. Atropos has decreed that I at least shall never againenter her walls. I am not disposed to murmur. Yet the voice of Platowould be pleasant to my ears, as music on the waters in the night-time. I pray you bring forth the writings of Pythagoras, and read me somethingthat sublime philosopher has said concerning the nature of the soul, andthe eternal principle of life. As my frail body approaches the Place ofSleep, I feel less and less inclined to study the outward images ofthings, the forms whereof perish; and my spirit thirsteth more and moreto know its origin and its destiny. I have thought much of Plato'smysterious ideas of light. Those ideas were doubtless brought from theEast; for as that is the quarter where the sun rises, so we have thencederived many vital truths, which have kept a spark of life within thebeautiful pageantry of Grecian mythology. "

"Paralus often said that the Persian Magii, the Egyptian priests, andthe Pythagoreans imbibed their reverence for light from one commonsource, " rejoined Philothea. 

Anaxagoras was about to speak, when a deep but gentle voice, from someinvisible person near them, said:

"The unchangeable principles of Truth act upon the soul like the sunupon the eye, when it turneth to him. But the _one_ principle, betterthan intellect, from which all things flow, and to which all thingstend, is Good. As the sun not only makes objects visible, but is thecause of their generation, nourishment, and increase, so the Good, through Truth, imparts being, and the power of being known, to everyobject of knowledge. For this cause, the Pythagoreans greet the sun withmusic and with reverence. "

The listeners looked at each other in surprise, and Philothea was thefirst to say, "It is the voice of Plato!"

"Even so, my friends, " replied the philosopher, smiling, as he stoodbefore them. 

The old man, in the sudden joy of his heart, attempted to rise andembrace him; but weakness prevented. The tears started to his eyes, ashe said, "Welcome, most welcome, son of Aristo. You see that I am fastgoing where we hope the spirit is to learn its own mysteries. "

Plato, affected at the obvious change in his aged friend, silentlygrasped his hand, and turned to answer the salutation of Philothea. Shetoo had changed; but she had never been more lovely. The colour on hercheek, which had always been delicate as the reflected hue of a rose, had become paler by frequent watchings; but her large dark eyes weremore soft and serious, and her whole countenance beamed with the brightstillness of a spirit receiving the gift of prophecy. 

The skies were serene; the music of reeds came upon the ear, softened bydistance; while the snowy fleece of sheep and lambs formed a beautifulcontrast with the rich verdure of the landscape. 

"All things around you are tranquil, " said Plato; "and thus I ever foundit, even in corrupted Athens. Not the stillness of souls that sleep, butthe quiet of life drawn from deep fountains. "

"How did you find our peaceful retreat?" inquired Philothea. "Did noneguide you?"

"Euago of Lampsacus told me what course to pursue, " he replied; "and notfar distant I again asked of a shepherd boy--well knowing that all thechildren would find out Anaxagoras as readily as bees are guided to theflowers. As I approached nearer I saw at every step new tokens of myfriends. The clepsydra, in the little brook, dropping its pebbles tomark the hours; the arytæna placed on the rock for thirsty travellers;the door loaded with garlands, placed there by glad-hearted boys; thetablet covered with mathematical lines, lying on the wooden bench, sheltered by grape-vines trained in the Athenian fashion, with a distaffamong the foliage; all these spoke to me of souls that unite the wisdomof age with the innocence of childhood. "

"Though we live in indolent Ionia, we still believe Hesiod's maxim, thatindustry is the guardian of virtue, " rejoined Anaxagoras. "Philotheaplies her distaff as busily as Lachesis spinning the thread of mortallife. " He looked upon his beautiful grandchild, with an expression fullof tenderness, as he added, "And she does indeed spin the thread of theold man's life; for her diligent fingers gain my bread. But what newsbring you from unhappy Athens? Is Pericles yet alive?"

"She is indeed unhappy Athens, " answered Plato. "The pestilence is stillraging; a manifested form of that inward corruption, which, finding ahome in the will of man, clothed itself in thought, and now completesits circle in his corporeal nature. The dream at the cave of Amphiarausis literally fulfilled. Men fall down senseless in the street, and thePiræus has been heaped with unburied dead. All the children of Cliniasare in the Place of Sleep. Hipparete is dead, with two of her littleones. Pericles himself was one of the first sufferers; but he wasrecovered by the skill of Hippocrates, the learned physician from Cos. His former wife is dead, and so is Xanthippus his son. You know thatthat proud young man and his extravagant wife could never forgive thefrugality of Pericles. Even in his dying moments he refused to call himfather, and made no answer to his affectionate inquiries. Pericles hasborne all his misfortunes with the dignity of an immortal. No one hasseen him shed a tear, of heard him utter a complaint. The ungratefulpeople blame him for all their troubles, as if he had omnipotent powerto avert evils. Cleon and Tolmides are triumphant. Pericles is deprivedof office, and fined fifty drachmæ. "

He looked at Philothea, and seeing her eyes fixed earnestly upon him, her lips parted, and an eager flush spread over her whole countenance, he said, in a tone of tender solemnity, "Daughter of Alcimenes, yourheart reproaches me, that I forbear to speak of Paralus. That I havedone so has not been from forgetfulness, but because I have, with vainand self-defeating prudence, sought for cheerful words to convey sadthoughts. Paralus breathes and moves, but is apparently unconscious ofexistence in this world. He is silent and abstracted, like one justreturned from the cave of Trophonius. Yet, beautiful forms are ever withhim, in infinite variety; for his quiescent soul has now undisturbedrecollection of the divine archetypes in the ideal world, of which allearthly beauty is the shadow. "

"He is happy, then, though living in the midst of death, " answeredPhilothea: "But does his memory retain no traces of his friends?"

"One--and one only, " he replied. "The name of Philothea was too deeplyengraven to be washed away by the waters of oblivion. He seldom speaks;but when he does, you are ever in his visions. The sound of a femalevoice accompanying the lyre is the only thing that makes him smile; andnothing moves him to tears save the farewell song of Orpheus toEurydice. In his drawings there is more of majesty and beauty thanPhidias or Myron ever conceived; and one figure is always there--thePythia, the Muse, the Grace, or something combining all these, morespiritual than either. "

As the maiden listened, tears started from fountains long sealed, andrested like dew-drops on her dark eyelashes. 

Farewell to Eurydice! Oh, how many thoughts were wakened by those words!They were the last she heard sung by Paralus, the night Anaxagorasdeparted from Athens. Often had the shepherds of Ionia heard themelancholy notes float on the evening breeze; and as the sounds diedaway, they spoke to each other in whispers, and said, "They come fromthe dwelling of the divinely-inspired one!"

Plato perceived that the contemplative maiden was busy with memories ofthe past. In a tone of gentle reverence, he added, "What I have told youproves that your souls were one, before it wandered from the divinehome; and it gives hope that they will be re-united, when they returnthither after their weary exile in the world of shadows. "

"And has this strange pestilence produced such an effect on Paralusonly?" inquired Anaxagoras. 

"Many in Athens have recovered health without any memory of the imagesof things, " replied Plato; "but I have known no other instance whererecollections of the ideal world remained more bright and unimpaired, than they possibly can be while disturbed by the presence of thevisible. Tithonus formerly told me of similar cases that occurred whenthe plague raged in Ethiopia and Egypt; and Artaphernes says he has seena learned Magus, residing among the mountains that overlook Taoces, whorecovered from the plague with a perpetual oblivion of all outwardforms, while he often had knowledge of the thoughts passing in the mindsof those around him. If an unknown scroll were placed before him, hewould read it, though a brazen shield were interposed between him andthe parchment; and if figures were drawn on the water, he at oncerecognized the forms, of which no visible trace remained. "

"Marvellous, indeed, is the mystery of our being, " exclaimed Anaxagoras. 

"It involves the highest of all mysteries, " rejoined Plato; "for if mandid not contain within himself a type of all that is, --from the highestto the lowest plane of existence, --he could not enter the human form. Attimes, I have thought glimpses of these eternal truths were revealed tome; but I lost them almost as soon as they were perceived, because mysoul dwelt so much with the images of things. Thus have I stood beforethe thick veil which conceals the shrine of Isis, while the narrowstreak of brilliant light around its edges gave indication of unrevealedglories, and inspired the eager but fruitless hope that the massivefolds would float away, like a cloud before the sun. There are indeedtimes when I lose the light entirely, and cannot even perceive the veilthat hides it from me. This is because my soul, like Psyche bending overthe sleeping Eros, is too curious to examine, by its own feeble taper, the lineaments of the divinity whereby it hath been blessed. "

"How is Pericles affected by this visitation of the gods upon the bestbeloved of his children?" inquired Anaxagoras. 

"It has softened and subdued his ambitious soul, " answered Plato; "andhas probably helped him to endure the loss of political honours withcomposure. I have often observed that affliction renders the heart ofman like the heart of a little child; and of this I was reminded when Iparted from Pericles at Salamis, whence the galley sailed for Ionia. Youdoubtless remember the little mound, called Cynos-sema? There lies thefaithful dog, that died in consequence of swimming after the ship whichcarried the father of Pericles, when the Athenians were all leavingtheir beloved city by advice of Themistocles. The illustrious statesmanhas not been known to shed a tear amid the universal wreck of hispopularity, his family, and his friends; but standing by this littlemound, the recollections of childhood came over him, and he wept as aninfant weeps for its lost mother. "

There was a tremulous motion about the lips of the old man, as hereplied, "Perchance he was comparing the constancy of that affectionateanimal with the friendship of men, and the happy unconsciousness of hisboyhood with the anxious cares that wait on greatness. Pericles had asoft heart in his youth; and none knew this better than the forgottenold man, whom he once called his friend. "

Plato perceived his emotion, and answered, in a soothing voice, "He hassince been wedded to political ambition, which never brought any mannearer to his divine home; but Anaxagoras is not forgotten. Pericles hasof late often visited the shades of Academus, where he has talked muchof you and Philothea, and expressed earnest hopes that the gods wouldagain restore you to Athens, to bless him with your wise counsels. "

The aged philosopher shook his head, as he replied, "They who would havea lamp should take care to supply it with oil. Had Philothea's affectionbeen like that of Pericles, this old frame would have perished for wantof food. "

"Nay, Anaxagoras, " rejoined Plato, "you must not forget that thisPeloponessian war, the noisy feuds in Athens, and afflictions in his ownfamily, have involved him in continual distractions. He who gives hismind to politics, sails on a stormy sea, with a giddy pilot. Pericleshas now sent you substantial proofs of his gratitude; and if his powerequalled his wishes, I have no doubt he would make use of the alarmedstate of public feeling to procure your recall. "

"You have as yet given us no tidings of Phidias and his household, " saidPhilothea. 

"The form of Phidias sleeps, " replied Plato: "His soul has returned tothose sacred mysteries, once familiar to him; the recollection of whichenabled him while on earth to mould magnificent images of supernalforms--images that awakened in all who gazed upon them some slumberingmemory of ideal worlds; though few knew whence it came, or why theirsouls were stirred. The best of his works is the Olympian Zeus, made atElis after his exile. It is far more sublime than the Pallas Parthenia. The Eleans consider the possession of it as a great triumph overungrateful Athens. "

"Under whose protection is Eudora placed?" inquired Philothea. 

"I have heard that she remains at the house where Phidias died, "rejoined Plato. "The Eleans have given her the yearly revenues of afarm, in consideration of the affectionate care bestowed on herillustrious benefactor. --Report says that Phidias wished to see herunited to his nephew Pandænus; but I have never heard of the marriage. Philæmon is supposed to be in Persia, instructing the sons of thewealthy satrap Megabyzus. "

"And where is the faithful Geta?" inquired Anaxagoras. 

"Geta is at Lampsacus; and I doubt not will hasten hither, as soon as hehas taken care of certain small articles of merchandize that he broughtwith him. Phidias gave him his freedom the day they left Athens; andafter his death, the people of Elis bestowed upon him fifty drachmæ. Hehas established himself at Phalerum, where he tells me he has doubledthis sum by the sale of anchovies. He was eager to attend upon me forthe sake, as he said, of once more seeing his good old masterAnaxagoras, and that maiden with mild eyes, who always spoke kind wordsto the poor; but I soon discovered there was a stronger reason for hisdesire to visit Lampsacus. From what we had heard, we expected to findyou in the city. Geta looked very sorrowful, when told that you werefifty stadia farther from the sea. "

"When we first landed on the Ionian shore, "'replied Anaxagoras, "I tookup my abode two stadia from Lampsacus, and sometimes went thither tolecture in the porticos. But when I did this, I seemed to breathe animpure air; and idle young men so often followed me home, that themaidens were deprived of the innocent freedom I wished them to enjoy. Here I feel, more than I have ever felt, the immediate presence ofdivinity. "

"I know not whether it be good or bad, " said Plato; "but philosophy haswrought in me a dislike of conversing with many persons. I do notimitate the Pythagoreans, who close their gates; for I perceive thattruth never ought to be a sealed fountain; but I cannot go into thePrytanæum, the agoras, and the workshops, and jest, like Socrates, tocaptivate the attention of young men. When I thus seek to impart hiddentreasures, I lose without receiving; and few perceive the value of whatis offered. I feel the breath of life taken away from me by themultitude. Their praises cause me to fear, lest, according to Ibycus, Ishould offend the gods, but acquire glory among men. For these reasons, I have resolved never to abide in cities. "

"The name of Socrates recalls Alcibiades to my mind, " rejoinedAnaxagoras. "Is he still popular with the Athenians?"

"He is; and will remain so, " replied Plato, "so long as he feasts themat his own expense, and drinks three cotylæ of wine at a draught. Iknow not of what materials he is made; unless it be of Carpasian flax, which above all things burns and consumes not. "

"Has this fearful pestilence no power to restrain the appetites andpassions of the people?" inquired the old man. 

"It has but given them more unbridled license, '" rejoined Plato. "Evenwhen the unburied dead lay heaped in piles, and the best of ourequestrians were gasping in the streets, robbers took possession oftheir dwellings, drinking wine from their golden vessels, and singingimpure songs in the presence of their household gods. Men seek to obtainoblivion of danger by reducing themselves to the condition of beasts, which have no perception above the immediate wants of the senses. Allpursuits that serve to connect the soul with the world whence it cameare rejected. The Odeum is shut; there is no more lecturing in theporticos; the temples are entirely forsaken, and even the Diasia are nolonger observed. Some of the better sort of citizens, weary of fruitlessprayers and sacrifices to Phoebus, Phoebe, Pallas, and the Erinnys. Haveerected an altar to the Unknown God; and this altar only is heaped withgarlands, and branches of olive twined with wool. "

"A short time ago, he who had dared to propose the erection of such analtar would have been put to death, " said Anaxagoras. "The pestilencehas not been sent in vain, if the faith in images is shaken, and theAthenians have been led to reverence One great Principle of Order, eventhough they call it unknown. "

"It is fear, unmingled with reverence, in the minds of many, " repliedthe philosopher of Academus. "As for the multitude, they consider allprinciples of right and wrong as things that may exist, or not exist, according to the vote of the Athenian people. Of ideas eternal in theirnature, and therefore incapable of being created or changed by the willof a majority, they cannot conceive. When health is restored, they willreturn to the old worship of forms, as readily as they changed fromPericles to Cleon, and will again change from him to Pericles. "

The aged philosopher shook his head and smiled, as he said: "Ah, Plato!Plato! where will you find materials for your ideal republic?"

"In an ideal Atlantis, " replied the Athenian, smiling in return; "orperchance in the fabled groves of Argive Hera, where the wild beasts aretamed--the deer and the wolf lie down together--and the weak animalfinds refuge from his powerful pursuer. But the principle of a republicis none the less true, because mortals make themselves unworthy toreceive it. The best doctrines become the worst, when they are used forevil purposes. Where a love of power is the ruling object, the tendencyis corruption; and the only difference between Persia and Athens is, that in one place power is received by birth, in the other obtained bycunning. 

"Thus it will ever be; while men grope in the darkness of their outwardnature; which receives no light from the inward, because they will notopen the doors of the temple, where a shrine is placed, from which itever beams forth with occult and venerable splendour. 

"Philosophers would do well if they ceased to disturb themselves withthe meaning of mythologic fables, and considered whether they have notwithin themselves a serpent possessing more folds than Typhon, and farmore raging and fierce. When the wild beasts within the soul aredestroyed, men will no longer have to contend against their visibleforms. "

"But tell me, O admirable Plato!" said Anaxagoras, "what connection canthere be between the inward allegorical serpent, and the created formthereof?"

"One could not exist without the other, " answered Plato, "because wherethere is no ideal, there can be no image. There are doubtless men inother parts of the universe better than we are, because they stand on ahigher plane of existence, and approach nearer to the _idea_ of man. Thecelestial lion is intellectual, but the sublunary irrational; for theformer is nearer the _idea_ of a lion. The lower planes of existencereceive the influences of the higher, according to the purity andstillness of the will. If this be restless and turbid, the waters from apure fountain become corrupted, and the corruption flows down to lowerplanes of existence, until it at last manifests itself in corporealforms. The sympathy thus produced between things earthly and celestialis the origin of imagination; by which men have power to trace theimages of supernal forms, invisible to mortal eyes. Every man can beelevated to a higher plane by quiescence of the will; and thus maybecome a prophet. But none are perfect ones; because all have a tendencyto look downward to the opinions of men in the same existence withthemselves: and this brings them upon a lower plane, where the propheticlight glimmers and dies. The Pythia at Delphi, and the priestess inDodona, have been the cause of very trifling benefits, when in acautious, prudent state; but when agitated by a divine mania, they haveproduced many advantages, both public and private, to the Greeks. "

The conversation was interrupted by the merry shouts of children; andpresently a troop of boys and girls appeared, leading two lambs deckedwith garlands. They were twin lambs of a ewe that had died; and they hadbeen trained to suck from a pipe placed in a vessel of milk. This day, for the first time, the young ram had placed his budding horns under thethroat of his sister lamb, and pushed away her head that he might takepossession of the pipe himself. The children were greatly delighted withthis exploit, and hastened to exhibit it before their old friendAnaxagoras, who always entered into their sports with a cheerful heart. Philothea replenished the vessel of milk; and the gambols of the younglambs, with the joyful laughter of the children, diffused a universalspirit of gladness. One little girl filled the hands of the oldphilosopher with tender leaves, that the beautiful animals might comeand eat; while another climbed his knees, and put her little fingers onhis venerable head, saying, "Your hair is as white as the lamb's; willPhilothea spin it, father?"

The maiden, who had been gazing at the little group with looks full oftenderness, timidly raised her eyes to Plato, and said, "Son of Aristo, these have not wandered so far from their divine home as we have!"

The philosopher had before observed the peculiar radiance of Philothea'sexpression, when she raised her downcast eyes; but it never beforeappeared to him so much like light suddenly revealed from the innershrine of a temple. 

With a feeling approaching to worship, he replied, "Maiden, your ownspirit has always remained near its early glories. "

When the glad troop of children departed, Plato followed them to seetheir father's flocks, and play quoits with the larger boys. Anaxagoraslooked after him with a pleased expression, as he said, "He will delighttheir minds, as he has elevated ours. Assuredly, his soul is like theHomeric, chain of gold, one end of which rests on earth, and the otherterminates in Heaven. "

Milza was daily employed in fields not far distant, to tend aneighbour's goats, and Philothea, wishing to impart the welcome tidings, took up the shell with which she was accustomed to summon her to herevening labours. She was about to apply the shell to her lips, when sheperceived the young Arcadian standing in the vine-covered arbour, withGeta, who had seized her by each cheek and was kissing her after thefashion of the Grecian peasantry. With a smile and a blush, the maidenturned away hastily, lest the humble lovers should perceive they werediscovered. 

The frugal supper waited long on the table before Plato returned. As heentered, Anaxagoras pointed to the board, which rested on rude stickscut from the trees, and said, "Son of Aristo, all I have to offer youare dried grapes, bread, wild honey, and water from the brook. "

"More I should not taste if I were at the table of Alcibiades, " repliedthe philosopher of Athens. "When I see men bestow much thought on eatingand drinking, I marvel that they will labour so diligently in buildingtheir own prisons. Here, at least, we can restore the Age of Innocence, when no life was taken to gratify the appetite of man, and the altars ofthe gods were unstained with blood. "

Philothea, contrary to the usual custom of Grecian women, remained withher grandfather and his guest during their simple repast, and soon afterretired to her own apartment. 

When they were alone, Plato informed his aged friend that his visit toLampsacus was at the request of Pericles. Hippocrates had expressed ahope that the presence of Philothea might, at least in some degree, restore the health of Paralus; and the heart-stricken father had sent tointreat her consent to a union with his son. 

"Philothea would not leave me, even if I urged it with tears, " repliedAnaxagoras; "and I am forbidden to return to Athens. "

"Pericles has provided an asylum for you, on the borders of Attica, "answered Plato; "and the young people would soon join you, after theirmarriage. He did not suppose that his former proud opposition to theirloves would be forgotten; but he said hearts like yours would forgive itall, the more readily because he was now a man deprived of power, andhis son suffering under a visitation of the gods. Alcibiades laughedaloud when he heard of this proposition; and said his uncle would neverthink of making it to any but a maiden who sees the zephyrs run andhears the stars sing. He spoke truth in his profane merriment. Periclesknows that she who obediently listens to the inward voice will be mostlikely to seek the happiness of others, forgetful of her own wrongs. "

"I do not believe the tender-hearted maiden ever cherished resentmentagainst any living thing, " replied Anaxagoras. "She often reminds me ofHesiod's description of Leto:

 'Placid to men and to immortal gods; Mild from the first beginning of her days; Gentlest of all in Heaven. '

"She has indeed been a precious gift to my old age. Simple and loving asshe is, there are times when her looks and words fill me with awe, as ifI stood in the presence of divinity. "

"It is a most lovely union when the Muses and the Charities inhabit thesame temple, " said Plato. "I think she learned of you to be a constantworshipper of the innocent and graceful nymphs, who preside over kindand gentle actions. But tell me, Anaxagoras, if this marriage isdeclined, who will protect the daughter of Alcimenes when you aregone?"

The philosopher replied, "I have a sister Heliodora, the youngest of myfather's flock; who is Priestess of the Sun, at Ephesus. Of all myfamily, she has least despised me for preferring philosophy to gold; andreport bespeaks her wise and virtuous. I have asked and obtained fromher a promise to protect Philothea when I am gone; but I will tell mychild the wishes of Pericles, and leave her to the guidance of her ownheart. If she enters the home of Paralus, she will be to him, as she hasbeen to me, a blessing like the sunshine. "

CHAPTER XII. 

 Adieu, thou sun, and fields of golden light; For the last time I drink thy radiance bright, And sink to sleep. ARISTOPHANES. 

The galley that brought Plato from Athens was sent on a secret politicalmission, and was not expected to revisit Lampsacus until the return ofanother moon. Anaxagoras, always mindful of the happiness of thosearound him, proposed that the constancy of faithful Geta should berewarded by an union with Milza. The tidings were hailed with joy; notonly by the young couple, but by all the villagers. The superstition ofthe little damsel did indeed suggest numerous obstacles. The sixteenthof the month must on no account be chosen; one day was unlucky for awedding, because as she returned from the fields, an old woman busy atthe distaff had directly crossed her path; and another was equally so, because she had seen a weasel, without remembering to throw three stonesas it passed. But at last there came a day against which no objectionscould be raised. The sky was cloudless, and the moon at its full; bothdeemed propitious omens. A white kid had been sacrificed to Artemis, andbaskets of fruit and poppies been duly placed upon her altar. The longwhite veil woven by Milza and laid by for this occasion, was taken outto be bleached in the sunshine and dew. Philothea presented a zone, embroidered by her own skilful hands; Anaxagoras bestowed a pair ofsandals laced with crimson; and Geta purchased a bridal robe of flamingcolours. 

Plato promised to supply the feast with almonds and figs. The peasant, whose goats Milza had tended, sent six large vases of milk, borne byboys crowned with garlands. And the matrons of the village, with whomthe kind little Arcadian had ever been a favourite, presented a hugecake, carried aloft on a bed of flowers, by twelve girls clothed inwhite. The humble residence of the old philosopher was almost coveredwith the abundant blossoms brought by joyful children. The door postswere crowned with garlands anointed with oil, and bound with fillets ofwool. The bride and bridegroom were carried in procession, on a littermade of the boughs of trees, plentifully adorned with garlands and flagsof various colours; preceded by young men playing on reeds and flutes, and followed by maidens bearing a pestle and sieve. The priest performedthe customary sacrifices at the altar of Hera; the omens werepropitious; libations were poured; and Milza returned to her happy home, the wife of her faithful Geta. Feasting continued till late in theevening, and the voice of music was not hushed until past the hour ofmidnight. 

The old philosopher joined in the festivity, and in the cheerfulness ofhis heart exerted himself beyond his strength. Each succeeding day foundhim more feeble; and Philothea soon perceived that the staff on whichshe had leaned from her childhood was about to be removed forever. Onthe twelfth day after Milza's wedding, he asked to be led into the openportico, that he might enjoy the genial warmth. He gazed on the brightlandscape, as if it had been the countenance of a friend. Then lookingupward, with a placid smile, he said to Plato, "You tell me that Truthacts upon the soul, like the Sun upon the eye, when it turneth to him. Would that I could be as easily and certainly placed in the light oftruth, as I have been in this blessed sunshine! But in vain I seek tocomprehend the mystery of my being. All my thoughts on this subject aredim and shadowy, as the ghosts seen by Odysseus on the Stygian shore. "

Plato answered: "Thus it must ever be, while the outward world lies sonear us, and the images of things crowd perpetually on the mind. Anobolus held close to the eye may prevent our seeing the moon and thestars; and thus does the ever-present earth exclude the glories ofHeaven. But in the midst of uncertainty and fears, one feeling aloneremains; and that is hope, strong as belief, that virtue can never die. In pity to the cravings of the soul, something will surely be given infuture time more bright and fixed than the glimmering truths preservedin poetic fable; even as radiant stars arose from the ashes of Orion'sdaughters, to shine in the heavens an eternal crown. "

The old man replied, "I have, as you well know, been afraid to indulgein your speculations concerning the soul, lest I should spend my life inunsatisfied attempts to embrace beautiful shadows. "

"To me likewise they have sometimes appeared doctrines too high andsolemn to be taught, " rejoined Plato: "Often when I have attempted toclothe them in language, the airy forms have glided from me, mocking mewith their distant beauty. We are told of Tantalus surrounded by waterthat flows away when he attempts to taste it, and with delicious fruitsabove his head, carried off by a sudden wind whenever he tries to seizethem. It was his crime that, being admitted to the assemblies ofOlympus, he brought away the nectar and ambrosia of the gods, and gavethem unto mortals. Sometimes, when I have been led to discourse of idealbeauty, with those who perceive only the images of things, theremembrance of that unhappy son of Zeus has awed me into silence. "

While they were yet speaking, the noise of approaching wheels was heard, and presently a splendid chariot, with four white horses, stopped beforethe humble dwelling. 

A stranger, in purple robes, descended from the chariot, followed byservants carrying a seat of ivory inlaid with silver, a tuft of peacockfeathers to brush away the insects, and a golden box filled withperfumes. It was Chrysippus, prince of Clazomenæ, the nephew ofAnaxagoras. He had neglected and despised the old man in his poverty, but had now come to congratulate him on the rumour of Philothea'sapproaching marriage with the son of Pericles. The aged philosopherreceived him with friendly greeting, and made him known to Plato. Chrysippus gave a glance at the rude furniture of the portico, andgathered his perfumed robes carefully about him. 

"Son of Basileon, it is the dwelling of cleanliness, though it be theabode of poverty, " said the old man, in a tone of mild reproof. 

Geta had officiously brought a wooden bench for the high-born guest;but he waited till his attendants had opened the ivory seat, and coveredit with crimson cloth, before he seated himself, and replied:

"Truly, I had not expected to find the son of Hegesibulus in so mean ahabitation. No man would conjecture that you were the descendant ofprinces. "

With a quiet smile, the old man answered, --"Princes have not wished toproclaim kindred with Anaxagoras; and why should he desire to perpetuatethe remembrance of what they have forgotten?"

Chrysippus looked toward Plato, and with some degree of embarrassmentsought to excuse himself, by saying, "My father often told me that itwas your own choice to withdraw from your family; and if they have notsince offered to share their wealth with you, it is because you haveever been improvident of your estates. "

"What! Do you not take charge of them?" inquired Anaxagoras. "I gave myestates to your father, from the conviction that he would take bettercare of them than I could do; and in this I deemed myself mostprovident. "

"But you went to Athens, and took no care for your country, " rejoinedthe prince. 

The venerable philosopher pointed to the heavens, that smiled serenelyabove them, --and said, "Nay, young man, my greatest care has ever beenfor my country. "

In a more respectful tone, Chrysippus rejoined: "Anaxagoras, all menspeak of your wisdom; but does this fame so far satisfy you, that younever regret you sacrificed riches to philosophy?"

"I am satisfied with the pursuit of wisdom, not with the fame of it, "replied the sage. "In my youth, I greatly preferred wisdom to gold; andas I approach the Stygian shore, gold has less and less value in myeyes. Charon will charge my disembodied spirit but a single obolus forcrossing his dark ferry. Living mortals only need a golden bough toenter the regions of the dead. "

The prince seemed thoughtful for a moment, as he gazed on the benevolentcountenance of his aged relative. 

"If it be as you have said, Anaxagoras is indeed happier than princes, "he replied. "But I came to speak of the daughter of Alcimenes. I haveheard that she is beautiful, and the destined wife of Paralus ofAthens. "

"It is even so, " said the philosopher; "and it would gladden my heart, if I might be permitted to see her placed under the protection ofPericles, before I die. "

"Has a sufficient dowry been provided?" inquired Chrysippus. "No one ofour kindred must enter the family of Pericles as a slave. "

A slight colour mantled in the old man's cheeks, as he answered, "I havefriends in Athens, who will not see my precious child suffer shame forwant of a few drachmæ. "

"I have brought with me a gift, which I deemed in some degree suited tothe dignity of our ancestors, " rejoined the prince; "and I indulged thehope of giving it into the hands of the maiden. "

As he spoke, he made a signal to his attendants, who straightway broughtfrom the chariot a silver tripod lined with gold, and a bag containinga hundred golden staters. At the same moment, Milza entered, and in alow voice informed Anaxagoras that Philothea deemed this prolongedinterview with the stranger dangerous to his feeble health; and beggedthat he would suffer himself to be placed on the couch. The invalidreplied by a message desiring her presence. As she entered, he said toher, "Philothea, behold your kinsman Chrysippus, son of Basileon. "

The illustrious guest was received with the same modest and friendlygreeting, that would have been bestowed on the son of a worthy peasant. The prince felt slightly offended that his splendid dress andmagnificent equipage produced so little effect on the family of thephilosopher; but as the fame of Philothea's beauty had largely mingledwith other inducements to make the visit, he endeavoured to conceal hispride, and as he offered the rich gifts, said in a respectful tone, "Daughter of Alcimenes, the tripod is from Heliodora, Priestess atEphesus. The golden coin is from my own coffers. Accept them for adowry; and allow me to claim one privilege in return. As I cannot be atthe marriage feast, to share the pleasures of other kinsmen, permit theson of Basileon to see you now one moment without your veil. "

He waved his hand for his attendants to withdraw; but the maidenhesitated, until Anaxagoras said mildly, "Chrysippus is of your father'skindred; and it is discreet that his request be granted. "

Philothea timidly removed her veil, and a modest blush suffused herlovely countenance, as she said, "Thanks, Prince of Clazomenæ, forthese munificent gifts. May the gods long preserve you a blessing toyour family and people. "

"The gifts are all unworthy of her who receives them, " repliedChrysippus, gazing so intently that the maiden, with rosy confusion, replaced her veil. 

Anaxagoras invited his royal guest to share a philosopher's repast, towhich he promised should be added a goblet of wine, lately sent fromLampsacus. The prince courteously accepted his invitation; and the kindold man, wearied with the exertions he had made, was borne to his couchin an inner apartment. When Plato had assisted Philothea and Milza inarranging his pillows, and folding the robe about his feet, he returnedto the portico. Philothea supposed the stranger was about to follow him;and without raising her head, as she bent over her grandfather's couch, she said: "He is feeble, and needs repose. In the days of his, strength, he would not have thus left you to the courtesy of our Athenian guest. "

"Would to the gods that I had sought him sooner!" rejoined Chrysippus. "While I have gathered foreign jewels, I have been ignorant of the gemsin my own family. "

Then stooping down, he took Anaxagoras by the hand, and saidaffectionately, "Have you nothing to ask of your brother's son?"

"Nothing but your prayers for us, and a gentle government for yourpeople, " answered the old man. "I thank you for your kindness to thisprecious orphan. For myself, I am fast going where I shall need lessthan ever the gifts of princes. "

"Would you not like to be buried with regal honour, in your nativeClazomenæ?" inquired the prince. 

The philosopher again pointed upward as he replied, "Nay. The road toheaven would be no shorter from Clazomenæ. "

"And what monument would you have reared to mark the spot whereAnaxagoras sleeps?" said Chrysippus. 

"I wish to be buried after the ancient manner, with the least possibletrouble and expense, " rejoined the invalid. "The money you would expendfor a monument may be given to some captive sighing in bondage. Let analmond tree be planted near my grave, that the boys may love to comethere, as to a pleasant home. "

"The citizens of Lampsacus, hearing of your illness, requested me to askwhat they should do in honour of your memory, when it pleased the godsto call you hence. What response do you give to this message?" inquiredthe prince. 

The philosopher answered, "Say to them that I desire all the childrenmay have a holiday on the anniversary of my death. "

Chrysippus remained silent for a few moments; and then continued:"Anaxagoras, I perceive that you are strangely unlike other mortals; andI know not how you will receive the proposal I am about to make. Philothea has glided from the apartment, as if afraid to remain in mypresence. That graceful maiden is too lovely for any destiny meaner thana royal marriage. As a kinsman, I have the best claim to her; and if itbe your will, I will divorce my Phoenician Astarte, and make Philotheaprincess of Clazomenæ. "

"Thanks, son of Basileon, " replied the old man; "but I love the innocentorphan too well to bestow upon her the burden and the dangers ofroyalty. "

"None could dispute your own right to exchange power and wealth forphilosophy and poverty, " said Chrysippus; "but though you are the lawfulguardian of this maiden, I deem it unjust to reject a splendid alliancewithout her knowledge. "

"Philothea gave her affections to Paralus, even in the days of theirchildhood, " replied Anaxagoras; "and she is of a nature too divine toplace much value on the splendour that passes away. "

The prince seemed disturbed and chagrined by this imperturbable spiritof philosophy; and after a few brief remarks retreated to the portico. 

Here he entered into conversation with Plato; and after some generaldiscourse, spoke of his wishes with regard to Philothea. "Anaxagorasrejects the alliance, " said he, smiling; "but take my word for it, themaiden would not dismiss the matter thus lightly. I have never yet seena woman who preferred philosophy to princes. "

"Kings are less fortunate than philosophers, " responded Plato; "I haveknown several women, who preferred wisdom to gold. Could Chrysippus lookinto those divine eyes, and yet believe that Philothea's soul wouldrejoice in the pomp of princes?"

The wealthy son of Basileon still remained incredulous of any exceptionsto woman's vanity; and finally obtained a promise from Plato, that hewould use his influence with his friend to have the matter leftentirely to Philothea's decision. 

When the maiden was asked by her grandfather, whether she would be thewife of Paralus, smitten by the hand of disease, or princess ofClazomenæ, surrounded by more grandeur than Penelope could boast in herproudest days--her innocent countenance expressed surprise, notunmingled with fear, that the mind of Anaxagoras was wandering. But whenassured that Chrysippus seriously proposed to divorce his wife and marryher, a feeling of humiliation came over her, that a man, ignorant of thequalities of her soul, should be thus captivated by her outward beauty, and regard it as a thing to be bought with gold. But the crimson tintsoon subsided from her transparent cheek, and she quietly replied, "Tellthe prince of Clazomenæ that I have never learned to value riches; norcould I do so, without danger of being exiled far from my divine home. "

When these words were repeated to Chrysippus, he exclaimed impatiently, "Curse on the folly which philosophers dignify with the name of wisdom!"

After this, nothing could restore the courtesy he had previouslyassumed. He scarcely tasted the offered fruit and wine; bade a coldfarewell, and soon rolled away in his splendid chariot, followed by histrain of attendants. 

This unexpected interview produced a singular excitement in the mind ofAnaxagoras. All the occurrences of his youth passed vividly before him;and things forgotten for years were remembered like events of the pasthour. Plato sat by his side till the evening twilight deepened, listening as he recounted scenes long since witnessed in Athens. Whenthey entreated him to seek repose, he reluctantly assented, and said tohis friend, with a gentle pressure of the hand, "Farewell, son ofAristo. Pray for me before you retire to your couch. "

Plato parted the silver hairs, and imprinted a kiss on his forehead;then crowning himself with a garland, he knelt before an altar thatstood in the apartment, and prayed aloud: "O thou, who art King ofHeaven, life and death are in thy hand! Grant what is good for us, whether we ask it, or ask it not; and refuse that which would behurtful, even when we ask it most earnestly. "

"That contains the spirit of all prayer, " said the old philosopher. "Andnow, Plato, go to thy rest; and I will go to mine. Very pleasant havethy words been to me. Even like the murmuring of fountains in a parchedand sandy desert. " When left alone with his grandchild and Milza, theinvalid still seemed unusually excited, and his eyes shone with unwontedbrightness. Again he recurred to his early years, and talked fondly ofhis wife and children. He dwelt on the childhood of Philothea withpeculiar pleasure. "Often, very often, " said he, "thy infant smiles andartless speech led my soul to divine things; when, without thee, thelink would have been broken, and the communication lost. "

He held her hand affectionately in his, and often drew her toward him, that he might kiss her cheek. Late in the night, sleep began to stealover him with gentle influence; and Philothea was afraid to move, lestshe should disturb his slumbers. 

Milza reposed on a couch close by her side, ready to obey the slightestsummons; the small earthen lamp that stood on the floor, shaded by anopen tablet, burned dim; and the footsteps of Plato were faintly heardin the stillness of the night, as he softly paced to and fro in the openportico. 

Philothea leaned her head upon the couch, and gradually yielded to thedrowsy influence. 

When she awoke, various objects in the apartment were indistinctlyrevealed by the dawning light. All was deeply quiet. She remainedkneeling by her grandfather's side, and her hand was still clasped inhis; but it was chilled beneath his touch. She arose, gently placed hisarm on the couch, and looked upon his face. A placid smile rested on hisfeatures; and she saw that his spirit had passed in peace. 

She awoke Milza, and desired that the household might be summoned. Asthey stood around the couch of that venerable man, Geta and Milza weptbitterly; but Philothea calmly kissed his cold cheek; and Plato lookedon him with serene affection, as he said, "So sleep the good. "

A lock of grey hair suspended on the door, and a large vase of water atthe threshold, early announced to the villagers that the soul ofAnaxagoras had passed from its earthly tenement. The boys came withgarlands to decorate the funeral couch of the beloved old man; and notribute of respect was wanting; for all that knew him blessed hismemory. 

He was buried, as he had desired, near the clepsydra in the littlebrook; a young almond tree was planted on his grave; and for yearsafter, all the children commemorated the anniversary of his death, by afestival called Anaxagoreia. 

Pericles had sent two discreet matrons, and four more youthfulattendants, to accompany Philothea to Athens, in case she consented tobecome the wife of Paralus. The morning after the decease of Anaxagoras, Plato sent a messenger to Lampsacus, desiring the presence of thesewomen, accompanied by Euago and his household. As soon as the funeralrites were passed, he entreated Philothea to accept the offeredprotection of Euago, the friend of his youth, and connected by marriagewith the house of Pericles. "I urge it the more earnestly, " said he, "because I think you have reason to fear the power and resentment ofChrysippus. Princes do not willingly relinquish a pursuit; and his traincould easily seize you and your attendants, without resistance fromthese simple villagers. "

Aglaonice, wife of Euago, likewise urged the orphan, in the mostaffectionate manner, to return with them to Lampsacus, and there awaitthe departure of the galley. Philothea acknowledged the propriety ofremoval, and felt deeply thankful for the protecting influence of herfriends. The simple household furniture was given to Milza; her ownwardrobe, with many little things that had become dear to her, weredeposited in the chariot of Euago; the weeping villagers had taken anaffectionate farewell; and sacrifices to the gods had been offered onthe altar in front of the dwelling. 

Still Philothea lingered and gazed on the beautiful scenes where shehad passed so many tranquil hours. Tears mingled with her smiles, as shesaid, "O, how hard it is to believe the spirit of Anaxagoras will be asnear me in Athens, as it is here, where his bones lie buried!"

CHAPTER XIII. 

 One day, the muses twined the hands Of infant love with flowery bands, And gave the smiling captive boy To be Celestial Beauty's joy. ANACREON. 

While Philothea remained at Lampsacus, awaiting the arrival of thegalley, news came that Chrysippus, with a company of horsemen, had beento her former residence, under the pretext of paying funeral rites tohis deceased relative. At the same time, several robes, mantles, andveils, were brought from Heliodora at Ephesus; with the request thatthey, as well as the silver tripod, should be considered, not as adowry, but as gifts to be disposed of as she pleased. The priestessmentioned feeble health as a reason for not coming in person to bid theorphan farewell; and promised that sacrifices and prayers for herhappines should be duly offered at the shrine of radiant Phoebus. 

Philothea smiled to remember how long she had lived in Ionia withoutattracting the notice of her princely relatives, until her name becameconnected with the illustrious house of Pericles; but she meeklyreturned thanks and friendly wishes, together with the writings ofSimonides, beautifully copied by her own hand. 

The day of departure at length arrived. All along the shore might beseen smoke rising from the altars of Poseidon, Æolus, Castor andPolydeuces, and the sea-green Sisters of the Deep. To the usual dangerof winds and storms was added the fear of encountering hostile fleets;and every power that presided over the destinies of sailors was invokedby the anxious mariners. But their course seemed more like an excursionin a pleasure barge, than a voyage on the ocean. They rowed alongbeneath a calm and sunny sky, keeping close to the verdant shores where, ever and anon, temples, altars, and statues, peeped forth amid groves ofcypress and cedar; under the shadow of which many a festive train hailedthe soft approach of spring, with pipe, and song, and choral dance. 

The tenth day saw the good ship Halcyone safely moored in the harbour ofPhalerum, chosen in preference to the more crowded and diseased port ofthe Piræus. The galley having been perceived at a distance, Pericles andClinias were waiting, with chariots, in readiness to convey Philotheaand her attendants. The first inquiries of Pericles were concerning thehealth of Anaxagoras; and he seemed deeply affected, when informed thathe would behold his face no more. Philothea's heart was touched by thetender solemnity of his manner when he bade her welcome to Athens. Platoanticipated the anxious question that trembled on her tongue; and abrief answer indicated that no important change had taken place inParalus. Clinias kindly urged the claims of himself and wife to beconsidered the parents of the orphan; and they all accompanied her tohis house, attended by boys burning incense, as a protection against thepestilential atmosphere of the marshy grounds. 

When they alighted, Philothea timidly, but earnestly, asked to seeParalus without delay. Their long-cherished affection, the fullcommunion of soul they had enjoyed together, and the peculiar visitationwhich now rested on him, all combined to make her forgetful of ceremony. 

Pericles went to seek his son, and found him reclining on the couchwhere he had left him. The invalid seemed to be in a state of deepabstraction, and offered no resistance as they led him to the chariot. When they entered the house of Clinias, he looked around with a painfulexpression of weariness, until they tenderly placed him on a couch. Hewas evidently disturbed by the presence of those about him, butunmindful of any familiar faces, until Philothea suddenly knelt by hisside, and throwing back her veil, said, "Paralus! dear Paralus! Do younot know me?" Then his whole face kindled with an expression of joy, sointense that Pericles for a moment thought the faculties of his soulwere completely restored. 

But the first words he uttered showed a total unconsciousness of pastevents. "Oh, Philothea!" he exclaimed, "I have not heard your voicesince last night, when you came to me and sung that beautiful welcome tothe swallows, which all the little children like so well. "

On the preceding evening, Philothea, being urged by her maidens to sing, had actually warbled that little song; thinking all the while of thedays of childhood, when she and Paralus used to sing it, to please theiryoung companions. When she heard this mysterious allusion to the music, she looked at Plato with an expression of surprise; while Milza and theother attendants seemed afraid in the presence of one thus visited bythe gods. 

With looks full of beaming affection, the invalid continued: "And now, Philothea, we will again walk to that pleasant place, where we went whenyou finished the song. "

In low and soothing tones, the maiden inquired, "Where did we go, Paralus?"

"Have you forgotten?" he replied. "We went hand in hand up a highmountain. A path wound round it in spiral flexures, ever ascending, andcommunicating with all above and all below. A stream of water, pure ascrystal, flowed along the path, from the summit to the base. Where westood to rest awhile, the skies were of transparent blue; but higher up, the light was purple and the trees full of doves. We saw little childrenleading lambs to drink at the stream, and they raised their voices inglad shouts, to see the bright waters go glancing and glittering downthe sides of the mountain. "

He remained silent and motionless for several minutes; and thencontinued: "But this path is dreary. I do not like this wide marsh, andthese ruined temples. Who spoke then and told me it was Athens? But nowI see the groves of Academus. There is a green meadow in the midst, onwhich rests a broad belt of sunshine. Above it, are floating littlechildren with wings; and they throw down garlands to little childrenwithout wings, who are looking upward with joyful faces. Oh, howbeautiful they are! Come, Philothea, let us join them. "

The philosopher smiled, and inwardly hailed the words as an omenauspicious to his doctrines. All who listened were deeply impressed bylanguage so mysterious. 

The silence remained unbroken, until Paralus asked for music. A citharabeing brought, Philothea played one of his favourite songs, accompaniedby her voice. The well-remembered sounds seemed to fill him with joybeyond his power to express; and again his anxious parent cherished thehope that reason would be fully restored. 

He put his hand affectionately on Philothea's head, as he said, "Yourpresence evidently has a blessed influence; but oh, my daughter, what asacrifice you are making--young and beautiful as you are!"

"Nay, Pericles, " she replied, "I deem it a privilege once more to hearthe sound of his voice; though it speaks a strange, unearthly language. "

When they attempted to lead the invalid from the apartment, andPhilothea, with a tremulous voice, said, "Farewell, Paralus, "--anexpression of intense gloom came over his countenance, suddenly as asunny field is obscured by passing clouds. "Not farewell to Eurydice!"he said: "It is sad music--sad music. "

The tender-hearted maiden was affected even to tears, and found it hardto submit to a temporary separation. But Pericles assured her that hisson would probably soon fall asleep, and awake without any recollectionof recent events. Before she retired to her couch, a messenger was sentto inform her that Paralus was in deep repose. 

Clinias having removed from the unhealthy Piræus, in search of pureratmosphere, Philothea found him in the house once occupied by Phidias;and the hope that scenes of past happiness might prove salutary to themind of Paralus, induced Pericles to prepare the former dwelling ofAnaxagoras for his bridal home. The friends and relations of the invalidwere extremely desirous to have Philothea's soothing influencecontinually exerted upon him; and the disinterested maiden earnestlywished to devote every moment of her life to the restoration of hisprecious health. Under these circumstances, it was deemed best that themarriage should take place immediately. 

The mother of Paralus had died; and Aspasia, with cautious delicacy, declined being present at the ceremony, under the pretext of ill health;but Phoenarete, the wife of Clinias, gladly consented to act as motherof the orphan bride. 

Propitiatory sacrifices were duly offered to Artemis, Hera, Pallas, Aphrodite, the Fates, and the Graces. On the appointed day, Philotheaappeared in bridal garments, prepared by Phoenarete. The robe of fineMilesian texture, was saffron-coloured, with a purple edge. Over this, was a short tunic of brilliant crimson, confined at the waist by anembroidered zone, fastened with a broad clasp of gold. Glossy braids ofhair were intertwined with the folds of her rose-coloured veil; and bothbride and bridegroom were crowned with garlands of roses and myrtle. Thechariot, in which they were seated, was followed by musicians, and along train of friends and relatives. Arrived at the temple of Hera, thepriest presented a branch, which they held between them as a symbol ofthe ties about to unite them. Victims were sacrificed, and the omensdeclared not unpropitious. When the gall had been cast behind thealtar, Clinias placed Philothea's hand within the hand of Paralus; thebride dedicated a ringlet of her hair to Hera; the customary vows werepronounced by the priest; and the young couple were presented withgolden cups of wine, from which they poured libations. The invalid wasapparently happy; but so unconscious of the scene he was acting, thathis father was obliged to raise his hand and pour forth the wine. 

The ceremonies being finished, the priest reminded Philothea that when agood wife died, Persephone formed a procession of the best women toscatter flowers in her path, and lead her spirit to Elysium. As hespoke, two doves alighted on the altar; but one immediately rose, andfloated above the other, with a tender cooing sound. Its mate lookedupward for a moment; and then both of them rose high in the air, anddisappeared. The spectators hailed this as an auspicious omen; butPhilothea pondered it in her heart, and thought she perceived a deepermeaning than was visible to them. 

As the company returned, with the joyful sound of music, many a friendlyhand threw garlands from the housetops, and many voices pronounced ablessing. 

In consideration of the health of Paralus, the customary eveningprocession was dispensed with. An abundant feast was prepared at thehouse of Clinias. The gentle and serious bride joined with her femalefriends in the apartments of the women; but no bridegroom appeared atthe banquet of the men. 

As the guests seated themselves at table, a boy came in covered withthorn-boughs and acorns, bearing a golden basket filled with bread, andsinging, "I have left the worse and found the better. " As he passedthrough the rooms, musicians began to play on various instruments, andtroops of young dancers moved in airy circles to the sound. 

At an early hour, Philothea went to the apartment prepared for her inthe home of her childhood. Phoenarete preceded her with a lighted torch, and her female attendants followed, accompanied by young Pericles, bearing on his head a vase of water from the Fountain of Callirhöe, withwhich custom required that the bride's feet should be bathed. Music washeard until a late hour, and epithalamia were again resumed with themorning light. 

The next day, a procession of women brought the bridal gifts of friendsand relatives, preceded by a boy clothed in white, carrying a torch inone hand, and a basket of flowers in the other. Philothea, desirous toplease the father of her husband, had particularly requested that thisoffice might be performed by the youthful Pericles--a beautiful boy, theonly son of Aspasia. The gifts were numerous; consisting of embroideredsandals, perfume boxes of ivory inlaid with gold, and various otherarticles, for use or ornament. Pericles sent a small ivory statue ofPersephone gathering flowers in the vale of Enna; and Aspasia a clasp, representing the Naiades floating with the infant Eros, bound ingarlands. The figures were intaglio, in a gem of transparent ceruleanhue, and delicately painted. When viewed from the opposite side, theeffect was extremely beautiful; for the graceful nymphs seemed actuallymoving in their native element Alcibiades presented a Sidonian veil, ofroseate hue and glossy texture. Phoenarete bestowed a ring, on which wascarved a dancing Oread; and Plato a cameo clasp, representing the infantEros crowning a lamb with a garland of lilies. 

On the third day, custom allowed every relative to see the bride withher face unveiled; and the fame of her surpassing beauty induced theremotest connections of the family to avail themselves of the privilege. Philothea meekly complied with these troublesome requisitions; but herheart was weary for quiet hours, that she might hold free communion withParalus, in that beautiful spirit-land, where his soul was wanderingbefore its time. 

Music, and the sound of Philothea's voice, seemed the only links thatconnected him with a world of shadows; but his visions were so blissful, and his repose so full of peace, that restless and ambitious men mightwell have envied a state thus singularly combining the innocence ofchildhood with the rich imagination of maturer years. 

Many weeks passed away in bright tranquillity; and the watchful wifethought she at times perceived faint indication of returning health. Geta and Milza, in compliance with their own urgent entreaties, were herconstant assistants in nursing the invalid; and more than once sheimagined that he looked at them with an earnest expression, as if hissoul were returning to the recollections of former years. 

Spring ripened into summer. The olive-garlands twined with wool, suspended on the doors during the festival of Thargelia, had witheredand fallen; and all men talked of the approaching commemoration of theOlympic games. 

Hippocrates had been informed that Tithonus, the Ethiopian, possessedthe singular power of leading the soul from the body, and againrestoring it to its functions, by means of a soul-directing wand; andthe idea arose in his mind, that this process might produce a salutaryeffect on Paralus. 

The hopes of the anxious father were easily kindled; and he at oncebecame desirous that his son should be conveyed to Olympia; for it wasreported that Tithonus would be present at the games. 

Philothea sighed deeply, as she listened to the proposition; for she hadfaith only in the healing power of perfect quiet, and the free communionof congenial souls. She yielded to the opinion of Pericles withcharacteristic humility; but the despondency of her tones did not passunobserved. 

"It is partly for your sake that I wish it, my poor child, " said he. "Ifit may be avoided, I will not see the whole of your youth consumed inanxious watchings. "

The young wife looked up with a serene and bright expression, as shereplied, "Nay, my father, you have never seen me anxious, or troubled. Ihave known most perfect contentment since my union with your son. "

Pericles answered affectionately, "I believe it, my daughter; and I havemarvelled at your cheerfulness. Assuredly, with more than Helen'sbeauty, you have inherited the magical Egyptian powder, whereby shedrove away all care and melancholy. "

CHAPTER XIV. 

 _Iphegenia_--Absent so long, with joy I look on thee. _Agamemnon_--And I on thee; so this is mutual joy. EURIPIDES. 

In accordance with the advice of Hippocrates, the journey to Olympia wasundertaken. Some time before the commencement of the games, a party, consisting of Pericles, Plato, Paralus, Philothea, and their attendants, made preparations for departure. 

Having kissed the earth of Athens, and sacrificed to Hermes and Hecate, the protectors of travellers, they left the city at the Dipylon Gate, and entered the road leading to Eleusis. The country presented acheerless aspect; for fields and vineyards once fruitful were desolatedby ferocious war. But religious veneration had protected the altars, andtheir chaste simplicity breathed the spirit of peace; while thebeautiful little rustic temples of Demeter, in commemoration of herwanderings in search of the lost Persephone, spoke an ideal language, soothing to the heart amid the visible traces of man's destructivepassions. 

During the solemnization of the Olympic Games, the bitterest animositieswere laid aside. The inhabitants of states carrying on a deadly war witheach other, met in peace and friendship. Even Megara, with all herhatred to Athens, gave the travellers a cordial welcome. In every housethey entered, bread, wine, and salt, were offered to Zeus Xinias, thepatron of hospitality. 

A pleasant grove of cypress trees announced the vicinity of Corinth, famed for its magnificence and beauty. A foot-path from the grove led toa secluded spot, where water was spouted forth by a marble dolphin, atthe foot of a brazen statue of Poseidon. 

The travellers descended from their chariots to rest under the shadow ofthe lofty plane trees, and refresh themselves with a draught from thefountain. The public road was thronged with people on their way toOlympia. Most of them drove with renewed eagerness to enter Corinthbefore the evening twilight; for nearly all travellers made it a pointto visit the remarkable scenes in this splendid and voluptuous city, theParis of the ancient world. A few were attracted by the cool murmuringof the waters, and turned aside to the fountain of Poseidon. Among thesewas Artaphernes the Persian, who greeted Pericles, and made known hisfriend Orsames, lately arrived from Ecbatana. The stranger said he hadwith him a parcel for Anaxagoras; and inquired whether any tidings ofthat philosopher had been lately received in Athens. Pericles informedthem of the death of the good old man, and mentioned that hisgrand-daughter, accompanied by her husband and attendants, was then in aretired part of the grove. The Persian took from his chariot a roll ofparchment and a small box, and placed them in the hands of Geta, to beconveyed to Philothea. The tears came to her eyes, when she discoveredthat it was a friendly epistle from Philæmon to his beloved old master. It appeared to have been written soon after he heard of his exile, andwas accompanied by a gift of four minæ. His own situation was describedas happy as it could be in a foreign land. His time was principallyemployed in instructing the sons of the wealthy satrap, Megabyzus; asituation which he owed to the friendly recommendation of Artaphernes. At the close, after many remarks concerning the politics of Athens, heexpressed a wish to be informed of Eudora's fate, and an earnest hopethat she was not beyond the reach of Philothea's influence. 

This letter awakened busy thoughts. The happy past and a cheerful futurewere opened to her mind, in all the distinctness of memory and thebrightness of hope. At such moments, her heart yearned for the readysympathy she had been wont to receive from Paralus. As she drew asidethe curtains of the litter, and looked upon him in tranquil slumber, shethought of the wonderful gift of Tithonus, with an intense anxiety, towhich her quiet spirit was usually a stranger. Affectionaterecollections of Eudora, and the anticipated joy of meeting, mingledwith this deeper tide of feeling, and increased her desire to arrive atthe end of their journey. Pericles shared her anxiety, and admitted nodelays but such as were necessary for the health of the invalid. 

From Corinth they passed into the pleasant valleys of Arcadia, encircledwith verdant hills. Here nature reigned in simple beauty, unadorned bythe magnificence of art. The rustic temples were generally composed ofintertwined trees, in the recesses of which were placed wooden images ofPan, "the simple shepherd's awe-inspiring god. " Here and there an agedman reposed in the shadow of some venerable oak; and the shepherds, asthey tended their flocks, welcomed this brief interval of peace withthe mingled music of reeds and flutes. 

Thence the travellers passed into the broad and goodly plains of Elis;protected from the spoiler by its sacred character, as the seat of theOlympic Games. In some places, troops of women might be seen in thedistance, washing garments in the river Alpheus, and spreading them outto whiten in the sun. Fertility rewarded the labours of the husbandmen, and the smiling fields yielded pasturage to numerous horses, whichPhoebus himself might have prized for strength, fleetness, and majesticbeauty. 

Paralus passed through all these scenes entirely unconscious whetherthey were sad or cheerful. When he spoke, it was of things unrecognizedby those of earthly mould; yet those who heard him found therein astrange and marvellous beauty, that seemed not altogether new to thesoul, but was seen in a dim and pleasing light, like the recollectionsof infant years. 

The travellers stopped at a small town in the neighbourhood of Olympia, where Paralus, Philothea, and their attendants were to remain during thesolemnization of the games. The place chosen for their retreat was theresidence of Proclus and his wife Melissa; worthy, simple-heartedpeople, at whose house Phidias had died, and under whose protection hehad placed Eudora. 

As the chariots approached the house, the loud barking of Hylaxattracted the attention of Zoila, the merry little daughter of Proclus, who was playing in the fields with her brother Pterilaüs. The moment thechildren espied a sight so unusual in that secluded place, they ranwith all speed to carry tidings to the household. Eudora was busy at theloom; but she went out to look upon the strangers, saying, as she didso, that they were doubtless travellers, who, in passing to the OlympicGames, had missed their way. 

Her heart beat tumultuously when she saw Hylax capering and fawningabout a man who bore a strong resemblance to Geta. The next moment, sherecognized Pericles and Plato speaking with a tall, majestic lookingwoman, closely veiled. She darted forward a few paces, in the eagernessof her joy; but checked herself when she perceived that the strangerlingered; for she said, in her heart, "If it were Philothea, she couldnot be so slow in coming to meet me. "

Thus she reasoned, not knowing that Philothea was the wife of Paralus, and that his enfeebled health required watchful care. In a few momentsher doubts were dispelled, and the friends were locked in each others'arms. 

Proclus gave the travellers a hospitable reception, and cheerfullyconsented that Paralus and his attendants should remain with them. Pericles, having made all necessary arrangements for the belovedinvalid, bade an early farewell, and proceeded with Plato to Olympia. 

When Geta and Milza had received a cordial welcome; and Hylax hadsomewhat abated his boisterous joy; and old Dione, with the tears in hereyes, had brought forward treasures of grapes and wine--Eudora eagerlysought a private interview with the friend of her childhood. 

"Dearest Philothea!" she exclaimed, "I thought you were still in Ionia;and I never expected to see you again; and now you have come, my heartis _so_ full"----

Unable to finish the sentence, she threw herself on that bosom where shehad ever found sympathy in all her trials, and sobbed like a child. 

"My beloved Eudora, " said Philothea, "you still carry with you a hearteasily kindled; affections that heave and blaze like a volcano. "

The maiden looked up affectionately, and smiled through her tears, asshe said, "The love you kindled in infancy has burned none the lessstrongly because there was no one to cherish it. If the volcano nowblazes, it only proves how faithfully it has carried the hidden fire inits bosom. "

She paused, and spoke more sadly, as she added, "There was, indeed, onebrief period, when it was well-nigh smothered. Would to the gods, _that_might pass into oblivion! But it will not. After Phidias came to Elis, he made for Plato a small statue of Mnemosyne, that turned and lookedupward to Heaven, while she held a half-opened scroll toward the earth. It was beautiful beyond description; but there was bitterness in myheart when I looked upon it; I thought Memory should be representedarmed with the scourge of the Furies. "

"And did you not perceive, " said Philothea, "that yourself had armed thebenignant goddess with a scourge? Thus do the best gifts from the DivineFountain become changed by the will of those who receive them. But, dearest Eudora, though your heart retains its fire, a change has passedover your countenance. The cares of this world have driven away thespirit of gladness, that came with you from your divine home. Thatsmiling twin of Innocence is ever present and visible while we areunconscious of its existence; but when in darkness and sorrow the soulasks where it has gone, a hollow voice, like the sound of autumn winds, echoes, 'Gone!'"

Eudora sighed, as she answered, "It is even so. But I know not where youcould have learned it; for you have ever seemed to live in a regionabove darkness and storms. Earth has left no shadow on your countenance. It expresses the same transparent innocence, the same mild love. A lightnot of this world is gleaming there; and it has grown brighter andclearer since we parted. I could almost believe that you accompany Herato the Fountain of Canathus, where it is said she every year bathes torestore her infant purity. "

Philothea smiled, as she playfully laid her hand on Eudora's mouth, andsaid, "Nay, Eudora, you forget that flattery produces effects veryunlike the Fountain of Canathus. We have been gazing in each other'sfaces, as if we fondly hoped there to read the record of all that haspassed since we were separated. Yet, very little of all that we haveknown and felt--of all that has gradually become a portion of ourlife--is inscribed there. Perhaps you already know that Anaxagoras fellasleep in Ionia. The good old man died in peace, as he had lived inlove. If I mistake not, while I talked with Pericles, Milza informed youthat I was the wife of Paralus?"

"Yes, dearest Philothea; but not till she had first told me of her ownmarriage with Geta. "

Philothea smiled, as she replied, "I believe it is the only case inwhich that affectionate creature thinks of herself, before she thinks ofme; but Geta is to her an object of more importance than all the worldbeside. When we were in Ionia, I often found her whispering magicalwords, while she turned the sieve and shears, to ascertain whether herlover were faithful to his vows. I could not find it in my heart toreprove her fond credulity;--for I believe this proneness to wanderbeyond the narrow limits of the visible world is a glimmeringreminiscence of parentage divine; and though in Milza's untutored mindthe mysterious impulse takes an inglorious form, I dare not deride whatthe wisest soul can neither banish nor comprehend. "

As she finished speaking, she glanced toward the curtain, whichseparated them from the room where Paralus reposed, watched by thefaithful Geta. There was a tender solemnity in the expression of hercountenance, whereby Eudora conjectured the nature of her thoughts. Speaking in a subdued voice, she asked whether Paralus would inquire forher, when he awoke. 

"He will look for me, and seem bewildered, as if something were lost, "replied Philothea. "Since I perceived this, I have been careful not toexcite painful sensations by my absence. Geta will give me notice whenslumber seems to be passing away. "

"And do you think Tithonus can restore him?" inquired Eudora. 

Philothea answered, "Fear is stronger than hope. I thought I perceived ahealing influence in the perfect quiet and watchful love that surroundedhim in Athens; and to these I would fain have trusted, had it been thewill of Pericles. But, dearest Eudora, let us not speak on this subject. It seems to me like the sacred groves, into which nothing unconsecratedmay enter. "

After a short pause, Eudora said. "Then I will tell you my own history. After we came to Elis, Phidias treated me with more tenderness andconfidence than he had ever done. Perhaps he observed that my proud, impetuous character was chastened and subdued by affliction andrepentance. Though we were in the habit of talking unreservedly, henever alluded to the foolish conduct that offended him so seriously. Ifelt grateful for this generous forbearance; and by degress I learned tofear him less and love him deeply. "

"We received some tidings of him when Plato came into Ionia, " rejoinedPhilothea; "and we rejoiced to learn that he found in Elis a richrecompense for the shameful ingratitude of Athens. "

"It was a rich recompense, indeed, " replied Eudora. "The peoplereverenced him as if he were something more than mortal. His statuestands in the sacred grove at Olympia, bearing the simple inscription;'Phidias, Son of Charmides, sculptor of the Gods. ' At his death, theElians bestowed gifts on all his servants; endowed me with the yearlyrevenues of a farm; and appointed his nephew Pandænus to the honourableoffice of preserving the statue of Olympian Zeus. "

"Did Phidias express no anxiety concerning your unprotected situation?"inquired Philothea. 

"It was his wish that I should marry Pandænus, " answered Eudora; "buthe urged the subject no farther, when he found that I regarded themarriage with aversion. On his death-bed he charged his nephew toprotect and cherish me as a sister. He left me under the guardianship ofProclus, with strict injunctions that I should have perfect freedom inthe choice of a husband. He felt no anxiety concerning my maintenance;for the Elians had promised that all persons connected with him shouldbe liberally provided at the public expense; and I was universallyconsidered as the adopted daughter of Phidias. "

"And what did Pandænus say to the wishes of his uncle?" askedPhilothea. 

Eudora blushed slightly as she answered, "He tried to convince me thatwe should all be happier, if I would consent to the arrangement. I couldnot believe this; and Pandænus was too proud to repeat hissolicitations to a reluctant listener. I seldom see him; but when thereis opportunity to do me service, he is very kind. "

Her friend looked earnestly upon her, as if seeking to read her heart;and inquired, "Has no other one gained your affections? I had some fearsthat I should find you married. "

"And why did you fear?" said Eudora: "Other friends would consider it ajoyful occasion. "

"But I feared, because I have ever cherished the hope that you would bethe wife of Philæmon, " rejoined her companion. 

The sensitive maiden sighed deeply, and turned away her head, as shesaid, with a tremulous voice, "I have little doubt that Philæmon hastaken a Persian wife, before this time. "

Philothea made no reply; but searched for the epistle she had receivedat Corinth, and placed it in the hands of her friend. Eudora started, when she saw the well-known writing of Philæmon. But when she read thesentence wherein he expressed affectionate solicitude for her welfare, she threw her arms convulsively about Philothea's neck, exclaiming, "Oh, my beloved friend, what a blessed messenger you have ever been to thispoor heart!"

For some moments, her agitation was extreme; but that gentle influence, which had so often soothed her, gradually calmed her perturbed feelings;and they talked freely of the possibility of regaining Philæmon's love. 

As Eudora stood leaning on her shoulder, Philothea, struck with thecontrast in their figures, said: "When you were in Athens, we called youthe Zephyr; and surely you are thinner now than you were then. I fearyour health suffers from the anxiety of your mind. "See!" continued she, turning towards the mirror--"See what a contrast there is between us!"

"There should be a contrast, " rejoined Eudora, smiling: "The pillars ofagoras are always of lighter and less majestic proportions than thepillars of temples. "

As she spoke, Geta lifted the curtain, and Philothea instantly obeyedthe signal. For a few moments after her departure, Eudora heard the lowmurmuring of voices, and then the sound of a cithara, whose tones shewell remembered. The tune was familiar to her in happier days, and shelistened to it with tears. 

Her meditations were suddenly disturbed by little Zoila, who came inwith a jump and a bound, to show a robe full of flowers she had gatheredfor the beautiful Athenian lady. When she perceived that tears hadfallen on the blossoms, she suddenly changed her merry tones, and withartless affection inquired, "What makes Dora cry?"

"I wept for the husband of that beautiful Athenian lady, because he isvery ill, " replied the maiden. 

"See the flowers!" exclaimed Zoila. "It looks as if the dew was on it;but the tears will not make it grow again--will they?"

Eudora involuntarily shuddered at the omen conveyed in her childishwords; but gave permission to carry her offering to the Athenian lady, if she would promise to step very softly, and speak in whispers. Philothea received the flowers thankfully, and placed them in vases nearher husband's couch; for she still fondly hoped to win back thewandering soul by the presence of things peaceful, pure, and beautiful. She caressed the innocent little one, and tried to induce her to remaina few minutes; but the child seemed uneasy, as if in the presence ofsomething that inspired fear. She returned to Eudora with a verythoughtful countenance; and though she often gathered flowers for "thetall infant, " as she called Paralus, she could never after be persuadedto enter his apartment. 

CHAPTER XV. 

 They in me breathed a voice Divine; that I might know, with listening ears, Things past and future; and enjoined me praise The race of blessed ones, that live for aye. HESIOD

PHILOTHEA to PHILÆMON, greeting:

The body of Anaxagoras has gone to the Place of Sleep. If it were notso, his hand would have written in reply to thy kind epistle. I was withhim when he died, but knew not the hour he departed, for he sunk to restlike an infant. 

We lived in peaceful poverty in Ionia; sometimes straitened for themeans whereby this poor existence is preserved, but ever cheerful inspirit. 

I drank daily from the ivory cup thou didst leave for me, with thyfarewell to Athens; and the last lines traced by my grandfather's handstill remain on the tablet thou didst give him. They are preserved forthee, to be sent in to Persia, if thou dost not return to Greece, as Ihope thou wilt. 

I am now the wife of Paralus; and Pericles has brought us into theneighbourhood of Olympia, seeking medical aid for my husband, not yetrecovered from the effects of the plague. Pure and blameless, Paralushas ever been--with a mind richly endowed by the gods; and all this thouwell knowest. Yet he is as one that dies while he lives; though notaltogether as one unbeloved by divine beings. Wonderful are the accountshe brings of that far-off world, where his spirit wanders. Sometimes Ilisten with fear, till all philosophy seems dim, and I shrink from themystery of our being. When they do not disturb him with earthlymedicines, he is quiet and happy. Waking, he speaks of things clothed inheavenly splendour; and in his sleep, he smiles like a child whosedreams are pleasant. I think this blessing comes from the Divine, byreason of the innocence of his life. 

We abide at the house of Proclus, a kind, truth-telling man, whose wife, Melissa, is at once diligent and quiet--a rare combination of goodlyvirtues. These worthy people have been guardians of Eudora, since thedeath of Phidias; and with much affection, they speak of her gentleness, patience, and modest retirement. Melissa told me Aspasia had urgentlyinvited her to Athens, but she refused, without even asking the adviceof her guardian. Thou knowest her great gifts would have been worshippedby the Athenians, and that Eudora herself could not be ignorant of this. 

Sometimes a stream is polluted in the fountain, and its waters aretainted through all its wanderings; and sometimes the traveller throwsinto a pure rivulet some unclean thing, which floats awhile, and is thenrejected from its bosom. Eudora is the pure rivulet. A foreign stainfloated on the surface, but never mingled with its waters. 

Phidias wished her to marry his nephew; and Pandænus would fain havepersuaded her to consent; but they forebore to urge it, when they saw itgave her pain. She is deeply thankful to her benefactor for allowing hera degree of freedom so seldom granted to Grecian maidens. 

The Elians, proud of their magnificent statue of Olympian Zeus, havepaid extraordinary honours to the memory of the great sculptor, andprovided amply for every member of his household. Eudora is industriousfrom choice, and gives liberally to the poor; particularly to orphans, who, like herself, have been brought into bondage by the violence ofwicked men, or the chances of war. For some time past, she has felt allalone in the world;--a condition that marvellously helps to bring usinto meekness and tenderness of spirit. When she read what thou didstwrite of her in thy epistle, she fell upon my neck and wept. 

I return to thee the four minæ. He to whose necessities thou wouldsthave kindly administered, hath gone where gold and silver avail not. Many believe that they who die sleep forever; but this they could not, if they had listened to words I have heard from Paralus. 

Son of Chærilaüs, farewell. May blessings be around thee, wheresoeverthou goest, and no evil shadow cross thy threshold. 

Written in Elis, this thirteenth day of the increasing moon, in themonth Hecatombæon, and the close of the eighty-seventh Olympiad. "

Without naming her intention to Eudora, Philothea laid aside the scrollshe had prepared, resolved to place it in the hands of Pericles, to beentrusted to the care of some Persian present at the games, which wereto commence on the morrow. 

Before the hour of noon, Hylax gave notice of approaching strangers, whoproved to be Pericles and Plato, attended by Tithonus. The young wifereceived them courteously, though a sudden sensation of dread ranthrough her veins with icy coldness. It was agreed that none butherself, Pericles, and Plato, should be present with Tithonus; and thatprofound silence should be observed. Preparation was made by offeringsolemn sacrifices to Phoebus, Hermes, Hecate, and Persephone; andPhilothea inwardly prayed to that Divine Principle, revealed to her onlyby the monitions of his spirit in the stillness of her will. 

Tithonus stood behind the invalid, and remained perfectly quiet for manyminutes. He then gently touched the back part of his head with a smallwand, and leaning over him, whispered in his ear. An unpleasant changeimmediately passed over the countenance of Paralus; he endeavoured toplace his hand on his head, and a cold shivering seized him. Philotheashuddered, and Pericles grew pale, as they watched these symptoms; butthe silence remained unbroken. A second and a third time the Ethiopiantouched him with his wand, and spoke in whispers. The expression of paindeepened; insomuch that his friends could not look upon him withoutanguish of heart. Finally his limbs straightened, and became perfectlyrigid and motionless. 

Tithonus, perceiving the terror he had excited, said soothingly, "Oh, Athenians, be not afraid. I have never seen the soul withdrawn without astruggle with the body. Believe me, it will return. The words Iwhispered, were those I once heard from the lips of Plato: 'The humansoul is guided by two horses; one white, with a flowing mane, earnesteyes, and wings like a swan, whereby he seeks to fly; but the other isblack, heavy and sleepy-eyed--ever prone to lie down upon the earth. '

"The second time, I whispered, 'Lo, the soul seeketh to ascend!' And thethird time I said, 'Behold the winged separates from that which hath nowings. ' When life returns, Paralus will have remembrance of thesewords. "

"Oh, restore him! Restore him!" exclaimed Philothea, in tones ofagonized entreaty. 

Tithonus answered with respectful tenderness, and again stood inprofound silence several minutes, before he raised the wand. At thefirst touch, a feeble shivering gave indication of returning life. As itwas repeated a second and a third time, with a brief interval betweeneach movement, the countenance of the sufferer grew more dark andtroubled, until it became fearful to look upon. But the heavy shadowgradually passed away, and a dreamy smile returned, like a gleam ofsunshine after storms. The moment Philothea perceived an expressionfamiliar to her heart, she knelt by the couch, seized the hand ofParalus, and bathed it with her tears. 

When the first gush of emotion had subsided, she said, in a soft, lowvoice, "Where have you been, dear Paralus?" The invalid answered: "Athick vapour enveloped me, as with a dark cloud; and a stunning noisepained my head with its violence. A voice said to me, 'The human soul isguided by two horses; one white, with a flowing mane, earnest eyes, andwings like a swan, whereby he seeks to fly; but the other is black, heavy, and sleepy-eyed--ever prone to lie down upon the earth. ' Then thedarkness began to clear away. But there was strange confusion. Allthings seemed rapidly to interchange their colours and their forms--thesound of a storm was in mine ears--the elements and the stars seemed tocrowd upon me--and my breath was taken away. Then I heard a voice, saying, 'Lo, the soul seeketh to ascend!' And I looked and saw thechariot and horses, of which the voice had spoken. The beautiful whitehorse gazed upward, and tossed his mane, and spread his wingsimpatiently; but the black horse slept upon the ground. The voice againsaid, 'Behold the winged separates from that which hath no wings!' Andsuddenly the chariot ascended, and I saw the white horse on light fleecyclouds, in a far blue sky. Then I heard a pleasing, silent sound--as ifdew-drops made music as they fell. I breathed freely, and my form seemedto expand itself with buoyant life. All at once, I was floating in theair, above a quiet lake, where reposed seven beautiful islands, full ofthe sound of harps; and Philothea slept at my side, with a garland onher head. I asked, 'Is this the divine home, whence I departed into thebody?' And a voice above my head answered 'It is the divine home. Mannever leaves it. He ceases to perceive. ' Afterward, I looked downward, and saw my dead body lying on a couch. Then again there came strangeconfusion--and a painful clashing of sounds--and all things rushingtogether. But Philothea took my hand, and spoke to me in gentle tones, and the discord ceased. "

Plato had listened with intense interest. He stood apart with Tithonus, and they spoke together in low tones, for several minutes before theyleft the apartment. The philosopher was too deeply impressed to returnto the festivities of Olympia. He hired an apartment at the dwelling ofa poor shepherd, and during the following day remained in completeseclusion, without partaking of food. 

While Paralus revealed his vision, his father's soul was filled withreverence and fear, and he breathed with a continual consciousness ofsupernatural presence. When his feelings became somewhat composed, heleaned over the couch, and spoke a few affectionate words to his son;but the invalid turned away his head, as if disturbed by the presence ofa stranger. The spirit of the strong man was moved, and he trembled likea leaf shaken by the wind. Unable to endure this disappointment of hisexcited hopes, he turned away hastily, and sought to conceal his griefin solitude. 

During the whole of the ensuing day, Paralus continued in a deep sleep. This was followed by silent cheerfulness, which, flowing as it did froma hidden source, had something solemn and impressive in its character. It was sad, yet pleasant, to see his look of utter desolation wheneverhe lost sight of Philothea; and the sudden gleam of joy that illuminedhis whole face the moment she re-appeared. 

The young wife sat by his side, hour after hour, with patient love;often cheering him with her soft, rich voice, or playing upon the lyrehe had fashioned for her in happier days. She found a sweet reward inthe assurance given by all his friends, that her presence had a healingpower they had elsewhere sought in vain. She endeavoured to pour balminto the wounded heart of Pericles, and could she have seen him willingto wait the event with perfect resignation, her contentment would havebeen not unmingled with joy. 

She wept in secret when she heard him express a wish to have Paraluscarried to the games, to try the effect of a sudden excitement; forthere seemed to her something of cruelty in thus disturbing thetranquillity of one so gentle and so helpless. But the idea had beensuggested by a learned physician of Chios, and Pericles seemed reluctantto return to Athens without trying this experiment also. Philothea foundit more difficult to consent to the required sacrifice, because the lawsof the country made it impossible to accompany her beloved husband toOlympia; but she suppressed her feelings; and the painfulness of thestruggle was never fully confessed, even to Eudora. 

While the invalid slept, he was carefully conveyed in a litter, andplaced in the vicinity of the Hippodrome. He awoke in the midst of agorgeous spectacle. Long lines of splendid chariots were ranged oneither side of the barrier; the horses proudly pawed the ground, andneighed impatiently; the bright sun glanced on glittering armour; andthe shouts of the charioteers were heard high above the busy hum of thatvast multitude. 

Paralus instantly closed his eyes, as if dazzled by the glare; and anexpression of painful bewilderment rested on his countenance. 

In the midst of the barrier stood an altar, on the top of which was abrazen eagle. When the lists were in readiness, the majestic bird aroseand spread its wings, with a whirring noise, as a signal for the racersto begin. Then was heard the clattering of hoofs, and the rushing ofwheels, as when armies meet in battle. A young Messenian was, for atime, foremost in the race; but his horse took fright at the altar ofTaraxippus--his chariot was overthrown--and Alcibiades gained the prize. The vanquished youth uttered a loud and piercing shriek, as the horsespassed over him; and Paralus fell senseless in his father's arms. 

It was never known whether this effect was produced by the presence of amultitude, by shrill and discordant sounds, or by returningrecollection, too powerful for his enfeebled frame. He was tenderlycarried from the crowd, and restoratives having been applied, in vain, the melancholy burden was slowly and carefully conveyed to her who soanxiously awaited his arrival. 

During his absence, Philothea had earnestly prayed for the preservationof a life so precious to her; and as the time of return drew near, shewalked in the fields, accompanied by Eudora and Milza, eager to catchthe first glimpse of his father's chariot. She read sad tidings in thegloomy countenance of Pericles, before she beheld the lifeless form ofher husband. 

Cautiously and tenderly as the truth was revealed to her, she becamedizzy and pale, with the suddenness of the shock. Pericles endeavouredto soothe her with all the sympathy of a parental love, mingled withdeep feelings of contrition, that his restless anxiety had thus broughtruin into her paradise of peace: and Plato spoke gentle words ofconsolation; reminding her that every soul, which philosophizedsincerely and loved beautiful forms, was restored to the full vigour ofits wings, and soared to the blest condition from which it fell. 

They laid Paralus upon a couch, with the belief that he slept to wake nomore. But as Philothea bent over him, she perceived a faint pulsation ofthe heart. Her pale features were flushed with joy, as she exclaimed, "He lives! He will speak to me again! Oh, I could die in peace, --if Imight once more hear his voice, as I heard it in former years. "

She bathed his head with cool perfumed waters, and watched him with lovethat knew no weariness. 

Proclus and Telissa deemed he had fallen by the dart of Phoebus Apollo;and fearing the god was angry for some unknown cause, they suspendedbranches of rhamn and laurel on the doors, to keep off evil demons. 

For three days and three nights, Paralus remained in complete oblivion. On the morning of the fourth, a pleasant change was observed in hiscountenance; and he sometimes smiled so sweetly, and so rationally, thathis friends still dared to hope his health might be fully restored. 

At noon, he awoke; and looking at his wife with an expression full oftenderness, said: "Dearest Philothea, you are with me. I saw you nomore, after the gate had closed. I believe it must have been a dream;but it was very distinct. " He glanced around the room, as if hisrecollections were confused; but his eyes no longer retained the fixedand awful expression of one who walked in his sleep. 

Speaking slowly and thoughtfully, he continued: "It could not be adream. I was in the temple of the most ancient god. The roof was ofheaven's pure gold, which seemed to have a ligat within it, like thesplendour of the sun. All around the temple were gardens full of bloom. I heard soft, mumuring sounds, like the cooing of doves; and I saw theimmortal Oreades and the Naiades pouring water from golden urns. Anaxagoras stood beside me; and he said we were living in the age ofinnocence, when mortals could gaze on divine beings unveiled, and yetpreserve their reason. They spoke another language than the Greeks; butwe had no need to learn it; we seemed to breathe it in the air. TheOreades had music written on scrolls, in all the colours of the rainbow. When I asked the meaning of this, they showed me a triangle. At the topwas crimson, at the right hand blue, and at the left hand yellow. Andthey said, 'Know ye not that all life is three-fold!' It was a darksaying; but I then thought I faintly comprehended what Pythagoras haswritten concerning the mysterious signification of One and Three. Manyother things I saw and heard, but was forbidden to relate. The gate ofthe temple was an arch, supported by two figures with heavy drapery, eyes closed, and arms folded. They told me these were Sleep and Death. Over the gate was written in large letters, 'The Entrance of Mortals. 'Beyond it, I saw you standing with outstretched arms, as if you soughtto come to me, but could not. The air was filled with voices, that sung:

 Come! join thy kindred spirit, come! Hail to the mystic two in one! When Sleep hath passed, thy dreams remain-- What he hath brought, Death brings again. Come hither, kindred spirits, come! Hail to the mystic two in one!

I tried to meet you; but as I passed through the gate, a cold air blewupon me, and all beyond was in the glimmering darkness of twilight. Iwould have returned, but the gate had closed; and I heard behind me thesound of harps and of voices, singing:

 Come hither, kindred spirits, come! Hail to the mystic two in one!"

Philothea kissed his hand, and her face beamed with joy. She hadearnestly desired some promise of their future union; and now she feltthe prayer was answered. 

"Could it be a dream?" said Paralus: "Methinks I hear the music now. "

Philothea smiled affectionately, as she replied: "When sleep hathpassed, thy dreams remain. "

As she gazed upon him, she observed that the supernatural expression ofhis eyes had changed; and that his countenence now wore its familiar, household smile. Still she feared to cherish the hope springing in herheart, until he looked toward the place where her attendant sat, motionless and silent, and said, "Milza, will you bring me the lyre?"

The affectionate peasant looked earnestly at Philothea, and wept as sheplaced it in his hand. 

Making an effort to rise, he seemed surprised at his own weakness. Theygently raised him, bolstered him with pillows, and told him he had longbeen ill. 

"I have not known it, " he replied. "It seems to me I have returned froma far country. "

He touched the lyre, and easily recalled the tune which he said he hadlearned in the Land of Dreams. It was a wild, unearthly strain, withsounds of solemn gladness, that deeply affected Philothea's soul. 

Pericles had not visited his son since his return to perfectconsciousness. When he came, Paralus looked upon him with a smile ofrecognition, and said, "My father!"

Milza had been sent to call the heart-stricken parent, and prepare himfor some favourable change; but when he heard those welcome words, hedropped suddenly upon his knees, buried his face in the drapery of thecouch, and his whole frame shook with emotion. 

The invalid continued: "They tell me I have been very ill, dear father;but it appears to me that I have only travelled. I have seen Anaxagorasoften--Plato sometimes--and Philothea almost constantly; but I havenever seen you, since I thought you were dying of the plague at Athens. "

Pericles replied, "You have indeed been ill, my son. You are to me asthe dead restored to life. But you must be quiet now, and seek repose. "

For some time after the interview with his father, Paralus remained verywakeful. His eyes sparkled, and a feverish flush was on his cheek. Philothea took her cithara, and played his favourite tunes. This seemedto tranquilize him; and as the music grew more slow and plaintive, hebecame drowsy, and at length sunk into a gentle slumber. 

After more than two hours of deep repose, he was awakened by the merryshouts of little Zoila, who had run out to meet Plato, as he came fromOlympia. Philothea feared, lest the shrill noise had given him pain;but he smiled; and said, "The voice of childhood is pleasant. "

He expressed a wish to see his favourite philosopher; and their kindredsouls held long and sweet communion together. When Plato retired fromthe couch, he said to Philothea, "I have learned more from this dearwanderer, than philosophers or poets have ever written. I am confirmedin my belief that no impelling truth is ever learned in this world; butthat all is received directly from the Divine Ideal, flowing into thesoul of man when his reason is obedient and still. "

A basket of grapes, tastefully ornamented with flowers, was presented tothe invalid; and in answer to his inquiries, he was informed that theywere prepared by Eudora. He immediately desired that she might becalled; and when she came, he received her with the most cordialaffection. He alluded to past events with great clearness of memory, andasked his father several questions concerning the condition of Athens. When Philothea arranged his pillows and bathed his head, he pressed herhand affectionately, and said, "It almost seems as if you were my wife. "

Pericles, deeply affected, replied, "My dear son, she is your wife. Sheforgot all my pride, and consented to marry you, that she might becomeyour nurse, when we all feared that you would be restored to us nomore. "

Paralus looked up with a bright expression of gratitude, and said, "Ithank you, father. This was very kind. Now you will be her father, whenI am gone. "

Perceiving that Pericles and Eudora wept, he added: "Do not mournbecause I am soon to depart. Why would ye detain my soul in this world?Its best pleasures are like the shallow gardens of Adonis, fresh andfair in the morning, and perishing at noon. "

He then repeated his last vision, and asked for the lyre, that theymight hear the music he had learned from immortal voices. 

There was melancholy beauty in the sight of one so pale and thin, touching the lyre with an inspired countenance, and thus revealing tomortal ears the melodies of Heaven. 

One by one his friends withdrew; being tenderly solicitous that heshould not become exhausted by interviews prolonged beyond his strength. He was left alone with Philothea; and many precious words were spoken, that sunk deep into her heart, never to be forgotten. 

But sleep departed from his eyes; and it soon became evident that thesoul, in returning to its union with the body, brought with it aconsciousness of corporeal suffering. This became more and more intense;and though he uttered no complaint, he said to those who asked him, thatbodily pain seemed at times too powerful for endurance. 

Pericles had for several days remained under the same roof, to watch theprogress of recovery; but at midnight, he was called to witnessconvulsive struggles, that indicated approaching death. 

During intervals of comparative ease, Paralus recognized his afflictedparent, and conjured him to think less of the fleeting honours of thisworld, which often eluded the grasp, and were always worthless in thepossession. 

He held Philothea's hand continually, and often spoke to her in words ofconsolation. Immediately after an acute spasm of pain had subsided, heasked to be turned upon his right side, that he might see her face moredistinctly. As she leaned over him, he smiled faintly, and imprinted akiss upon her lips. He remained tranquil, with his eyes fixed upon hers;and a voice within impelled her to sing:

 Come hither, kindred spirits, come! Hail to the mystic two in one!

He looked upward with a radiant expression, and feebly pressed her hand. Not long after, his eyelids closed, and sleep seemed to cover hisfeatures with her heavy veil. 

Suddenly his countenance shone with a strange and impressive beauty. Thesoul had departed to return to earth no more. 

In all his troubles, Pericles had never shed a tear; but now he rent theair with his groans, and sobbed, like a mother bereft of her child. 

Philothea, though deeply bowed down in spirit, was more composed: forshe heard angelic voices singing:

 When sleep hath passed, thy dreams remain-- What he hath brought, Death brings again. Come hither, kindred spirits, come! Hail to the mystic two in one!

CHAPTER XVI. 

 Thus a poor father, helpless and undone, Mourns o'er the ashes of an only son; Takes a sad pleasure the last bones to burn, And pour in tears, ere yet they close the urn. HOMER

Of the immense concourse collected together at Olympia, each one pursuedhis pleasure, or his interest, in the way best suited to his taste. Alcibiades was proud of giving a feast corresponding in magnificence tothe chariots he had brought into the course. Crowds of parasitesflattered him and the other victors, to receive invitations in return;while a generous few sympathized with the vanquished. Merchants werebusy forming plans for profitable negociation, and statesmen wereeagerly watching every symptom of jealousy between rival states andcontending parties. 

One, amid that mass of human hearts, felt so little interest in all theworld could offer, that she seemed already removed beyond its influence. Philothea had herself closed the eyes of her husband, and imprinted herlast kiss upon his lips. Bathed in pure water, and perfumed withointment, the lifeless form of Paralus lay wrapped in the robe he hadbeen accustomed to wear. A wreath of parsley encircled his head, andflowers were strewn around him in profusion. 

In one hand was placed an obolus, to pay the ferryman that rowed himacross the river of death; and in the other, a cake made of honey andflour, to appease the triple-headed dog, which guarded the entrance tothe world of souls. 

The bereaved wife sat by his side, and occasionally renewed thegarlands, with a quiet and serene expression, as if she still foundhappiness in being occupied for him who had given her his heart in theinnocence and freshness of its childhood. 

The food prepared by Milza's active kindness was scarcely tasted; exceptwhen she observed the tears of her faithful attendant, and sought tosoothe her feelings with characterestic tenderness. 

The event soon became universally known; for the hair of the deceased, consecrated to Persephone, and a vase of water at the threshold, proclaimed tidings of death within the dwelling. 

Many of the assembled multitude chose to remain until the funeralsolemnities were past; some from personal affection for Paralus, othersfrom respect to the son of Pericles. 

Plato sent two large vases, filled with wine and honey; Eudora providedointments and perfumes; Alcibiades presented a white cloak, richlyembroidered with silver; and the young men of Athens, present at thegames, gave a silver urn, on which were sculptured weeping genii, withtheir torches turned downward. 

Enveloped in his glittering mantle, and covered with flowers, the formof Paralus remained until the third day. The procession, which was toattend the body to the funeral pile, formed at morning twilight; forsuch was the custom with regard to those who died in their youth. Philothea followed the bier, dressed in white, with a wreath of rosesand myrtle around her head, and a garland about the waist. She chosethis beautiful manner to express her joy that his pure spirit had passedinto Elysium. 

At the door of the house, the nearest relatives addressed the inanimateform, so soon to be removed from the sight of mortals. In tones ofanguish, almost amounting to despair, Pericles exclaimed: "Oh, my son!my son! Why didst thou leave us? Why wast thou, so richly gifted of thegods, to be taken from us in thy youth? Oh, my son, why was I left tomourn for thee?"

Instead of the usual shrieks and lamentations of Grecian women, Philothea said, in sad, heart-moving accents: "Paralus, farewell!Husband of my youth, beloved of my heart, farewell!"

Then the dead was carried out; and the procession moved forward, to thesound of many voices and many instruments, mingled in a loud and solemndirge. The body of Paralus was reverently laid upon the funeral pile, with the garments he had been accustomed to wear; his lyre and Phrygianflute; and vases filled with oil and perfumes. 

Plentiful libations of wine, honey, and milk were poured upon theground, and the mourners smote the earth with their feet, while theyuttered supplications to Hermes, Hecate, and Pluto. Pericles applied thetorch to the pile, first invoking the aid of Boreas and Zephyrus, thatit might consume quickly. As the flames rose, the procession walkedslowly three times around the pile, moving toward the left hand. Thesolemn dirge was resumed, and continued until the last flickering tongueof fire was extinguished with wine. Then those who had borne the silverurn in front of the hearse, approached. Pericles, with tenderreverence, gathered the whitened bones, sprinkled them with wine andperfumes, placed them within the urn, and covered it with a purple pall, inwrought with gold; which Philothea's prophetic love had prepared forthe occasion. 

The procession again moved forward, with torches turned downward; andthe remains of Paralus were deposited in the Temple of Persephone, untilhis friends returned to Athens. 

In token of gratitude for kind attentions bestowed by the household ofProclus, Pericles invited his family to visit the far-famed wonders ofthe violet-crowned city; and the eager solicitations of young Pterilaüsinduced the father to accept this invitation for himself and son. As aninhabitant of consecrated Elis, without wealth, and unknown to fame, itwas deemed that he might return in safety, even after hostilities wererenewed between the Peloponessian states. Eudora likewise obtainedpermission to accompany her friend; and her sad farewell was cheered byan indefinite hope that future times would restore her to that quiethome. The virtuous Melissa parted from them with many blessings andtears. Zoila was in an agony of childish sorrow; but she wiped her eyeswith the corner of her robe, and listened, well pleased, to Eudora'sparting promise of sending her a flock of marble sheep, with a paintedwooden shepherd. 

The women travelled together in a chariot, in front of which reposed thesilver urn, covered with its purple pall. Thus sadly did Philotheareturn through the same scenes she had lately traversed with hopes, which, in the light of memory, now seemed like positive enjoyment. Pericles indeed treated her with truly parental tenderness; and nosoothing attention, that respect or affection could suggest, was omittedby her friends. But he, of whose mysterious existence her own seemed anecessary portion, had gone to return no more; and had it not been forthe presence of Eudora, she would have felt that every bond of sympathywith this world of forms had ceased forever. 

At Corinth, the travellers again turned aside to the Fountain ofPoseidon, that the curiosity of Pterilaüs might be satisfied with a viewof the statues by which it was surrounded. 

"When we are in Athens, I will show you something more beautiful thanthese, " said Pericles. "You shall see the Pallas Athenæ, carved byPhidias. "

"Men say it is not so grand as the statue of Zeus, that we have atOlympia, " replied the boy. 

"Had you rather witness the sports of the gymnasia than the works ofartists?" inquired Plato. 

The youth answered very promptly, "Ah, no indeed. I would rather gainone prize from the Choragus, than ten from the Gymnasiarch. Anniceris, the Cyrenæan, proudly displayed his skill in chariot-driving, by ridingseveral times around the Academia, each time preserving the exact orbitof his wheels. The spectators applauded loudly; but Plato said, 'He whohas bestowed such diligence to acquire trifling and useless things, musthave neglected those that are truly admirable. ' Of all sights inAthens, I most wish to see the philosophers; and none so much as Plato. "

The company smiled, and the philosopher answered, "I am Plato. "

"You told us that your name was Aristocles, " returned Pterilaüs; "and wealways called you so. Once I heard that Athenian lady call you Plato;and I could not understand why she did so. "

"I was named Aristocles for my grandfather, " answered the philosopher;"and when I grew older, men called me Plato. "

"But you cannot be the Plato that I mean, " said Pterilaüs; "for youcarried my little sister Zoila on your shoulders--and played peep withher among the vines; and when I chased you through the fields, you ranso fast that I could not catch you. " The philosopher smiled, as hereplied, "Nevertheless, I am Plato; and they call me by that name, because my shoulders are broad enough to carry little children. "

The boy still insisted that he alluded to another Plato. "I mean thephilosopher, who teaches in the groves of Academus, " continued he. "Iknew a freedman of his, who said he never allowed himself to be angry, or to speak in a loud voice. He never but once raised his hand to strikehim; and that was because he had mischievously upset a poor old woman'sbasket of figs; feeling that he was in a passion, he suddenly checkedhimself, and stood perfectly still. A friend coming in asked him what hewas doing; and the philosopher replied, 'I am punishing an angry man. '

"Speusippus, his sister's son, was such a careless, indecent, andboisterous youth, that his parents could not control him. They sent himto his uncle Plato, who received him in a friendly manner, and forboreto reproach him. Only in his own example he was always modest andplacid. This so excited the admiration of Speusippus, that a love ofphilosophy was kindled within him. Some of his relatives blamed Plato, because he did not chastise the impertinent youth; but he replied, 'There is no reproof so severe as to show him, by the manner of my ownlife, the contrast between virtue and baseness. '--That is the Plato Iwant you to show me, when we are in Athens. "

Proclus, perceiving a universal smile, modestly added, by way ofexplanation: "My son means him whom men call the divine Plato. Hegreatly desires to see that philosopher, of whom it is said Socratesdreamed, when he first received him as his pupil. In his dream he saw aswan without wings, that came and sat upon his bosom; and soon after, its wings grew, and it flew high up in the air, with melodious notes, alluring all who heard it. "

Pericles laid his hand on the philosopher's shoulder, and smiling, answered, "My unbelieving friend, this is the teacher of Academus; thisis the divine Plato; this is the soaring swan, whose melodious notesallure all that hear him. "

Proclus was covered with confusion, but still seemed half incredulous. "What would Melissa say, " exclaimed he, "if she knew that her frolicsomelittle plaything, Zoila, had been rude enough to throw flowers at thedivine Plato. "

"Nay, my friend, " replied the disciple of Socrates, --what better coulda philosopher desire, than to be pelted with roses by childhood?"

Eudora looked up with an arch expression; and Philothea smiled as shesaid, "This is a new version of unknown Phoebus tending the flocks ofAdmetus. "

Pterilaüs seemed utterly confounded by a discovery so unexpected. It waslong before he regained his usual freedom; and from time to time he wasobserved to fix a scrutinizing gaze on the countenance of Plato, as ifseeking to read the mystery of his hidden greatness. 

As the travellers approached Athens, they were met by a numerousprocession of magistrates, citizens, and young men bearing garlands, which they heaped on the urn in such profusion that it resembled apyramid of flowers. They passed the chariots with their arms and ensignsof office all reversed; then turned and followed to the abode ofPericles, singing dirges as they went, and filling the air with themelancholy music of the Mysian flute. 

The amiable character of the deceased, his genius, the peculiarcircumstances attending his death, and the accumulated afflictions ofhis illustrious parent, all combined to render it an impressive scene. Even the gay selfishness of Alcibiades was subdued into reverence, as hecarefully took the urn from the chariot, and gave it to attendants, whoplaced it beside the household altar. 

Early the next morning, a procession again formed to convey the ashes ofParalus to the sepulchre of his fathers; called, in the beautifullanguage of the Greeks, a Place of Sleep. 

When the urn was again brought forth, Philothea's long golden haircovered it, like a mantle of sunbeams. During his life-time, theseshining tresses had been peculiarly dear to him; and in token of herlove, she placed them on his grave. Her white robe was changed forcoarse black garments; and instead of flowery wreaths, a long black veilcovered the beautiful head, from which its richest ornament had justbeen severed. She had rejoiced for his happy spirit, and now she mournedher own widowed lot. 

At the sepulchre, Pericles pronounced a funeral oration on the mostgifted, and best-beloved of his children. In the evening, kindred andfriends met at his house to partake a feast prepared for the occasion;and every guest had something to relate concerning the genius and thevirtues of him who slept. 

A similar feast was prepared in the apartments of the women, wherePhilothea remained silent and composed; a circumstance that excited nosmall degree of wonder and remark, among those who measured affection bythe vehemence of grief. 

As soon as all ceremonies were completed, she obtained leave to returnto her early home, endeared by many happy scenes; and there, in thestillness of her own heart, she held communion with the dear departed. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

 There await me till I die; prepare A mansion for me, as again with me To dwell; for in thy tomb will I be laid, In the same cedar, by thy side composed: For e'en in death I will not be disjoined. EURIPIDES

It soon became evident that a great change had taken place inPhilothea's health. Some attributed it to the atmosphere of Athens, still infected with the plague; others supposed it had its origin in thedeath of Paralus. The widowed one, far from cherishing her grief, made astrong effort to be cheerful; but her gentle smile, like moonlight in apainting, retained its sweetness when the life was gone. There wassomething in this perfect stillness of resignation more affecting thanthe utmost agony of sorrow. She complained of no illness, but grewthinner and thinner, like a cloud gradually floating away, and retainingits transparent beauty to the last. Eudora lavished the mostaffectionate attentions upon her friend, conscious that she was merelystrewing flowers in her pathway to the tomb. 

A few weeks after their return to Athens, she said, "Dearest Eudora, doyou remember the story of the nymph Erato, who implored the assistanceof Areas, when the swelling torrent threatened to carry away the treeover which she presided, and on whose preservation her life depended?"

"I remember it well, " replied Eudora: "Dione told it to me when I wasquite a child; and I could never after see a tree torn by the lightning, or carried away by the flood, or felled by the woodman, without ashrinking and shivering feeling, lest some gentle, fair-haired Dryad hadperished with it. "

Philothea answered, "Thus was I affected, when my grandfather first readto me Hesiod's account of the Muses:

 'Far round, the dusky earth Rings with their hymning voices; and beneath Their many-rustling feet a pleasant sound Ariseth, as they take their onward way To their own father's presence. '

"I never after could hear the quivering of summer leaves, or the busyhum of insects, without thinking it was the echoed voices of those

 'Thrice three sacred maids, whose minds are knit In harmony; whose only thought is song. '

"There is a deep and hidden reason why the heart loves to invest everyhill, and stream, and tree, with a mysterious principle of life. Allearthly forms are but the clothing of some divine ideal; and this truthwe _feel_, though we _know_ it not. But when I spoke of Arcus and theWood Nymph, I was thinking that Paralus had been the tree, on whoseexistence my own depended; and that now he was removed, I should notlong remain. "

Eudora burst into a passionate flood of tears. "Oh, dearest Philothea, do not speak thus, " she said. "I shall indeed be left alone in theworld. Who will guide me, who will protect me, who will love me when youare gone?"

Her friend endeavoured to calm these agitated feelings, by everysoothing art her kindness could suggest. 

"I would rather suffer much in silence, than to give you unnecessarypain, " she replied, affectionately: "but I ought not to conceal from youthat I am about to follow my beloved husband. In a short time, I shallnot have sufficient strength to impart all I have to say. You will findmy clothing and jewels done up in parcels, bearing the names of thosefor whom they are intended. My dowry returns to Chrysippus, who gave it;but Pericles has kindly given permission that everything else should bedisposed of according to my own wishes. Several of my grandfather'smanuscripts, and a copy of Herodotus, which I transcribed while I was inIonia, are my farewell gifts to him. When the silver tripod, whichParalus gained as a prize for the best tragedy exhibited during theDionysia, is returned to his father's house, let them be placed withinit. The statue of Persephone, (that ominous bridal gift, ) and the ivorylyre bestowed by Aspasia, are placed in his trust for the youthfulPericles; together with all the books and garments that belonged to hisdeparted brother. In token of gratitude for the parental care of Cliniasand his wife, I have bestowed on them the rich tripod received fromHeliodora. In addition to the trifling memorials I have already sent toMelissa, and her artless little Zoila, you will find others prepared foryou to deliver, when restored to your peaceful home in Elis. To myfaithful Milza I have given all the garments and household goods suitedto her condition. My grandfather's books have been divided, as herequested, between Plato and Philæmon; the silver harp and the ivorytablet are likewise designed for them. Everything else belongs to you, dearest Eudora. Among many tokens of my affection, you will not valueleast the ivory cup lined with silver, which Philæmon gave me when hedeparted from Athens. The clasp, representing the Naiades binding Erosin garlands, will, I trust, be worn at your marriage with Philæmon. "

With tearful eyes, Eudora answered, "Oh, Philothea! in the days of mypride and gayety, I little knew what a treasure I threw from me, when Ilost Philæmon's love. Had it not been for my own perverse folly, Ishould at this moment be his happy, honoured wife. The hope of hisforgiveness is now the only gleam of sunshine in a world of gloom; but Ihardly dare to cherish it. "

Philothea kissed her affectionately, and said, "Believe me, you will yetbe united. Of this, there is an impression on my mind too strong toadmit of doubt. If at times you are tempted to despond, remember thesewords were uttered by your friend, when she drew near the confines ofanother world: you will be united to Philæmon. "

As she spoke, Milza, who was occupied in the next apartment, sneezedaloud. The sound was at Eudora's right hand, and she received theauspicious omen with a sudden thrill of joy. 

Philothea observed her emotion with a gentle smile, and added: "When wewere at Elis, I wrote an epistle to Philæmon, in which I spoke of youas my heart dictated; and Artaphernes found opportunity to send itdirectly into Persia. "

The maiden blushed deeply and painfully, as she replied, "Nay, mydearest friend--you know that I must appear contemptible in his eyes;and I would not have insulted him with the offer of a heart, which hehas reason to believe is so capricious and ungrateful. "

"Trust me, I said nothing whereby your modesty might be wounded, "answered Philothea: "I wrote as I was moved; and I felt strong assurancethat my words would waken a response in Philæmon's heart. But there isone subject, on which my mind is filled with foreboding. I hope you willleave Athens as soon as it is safe to return to Elis. "

"Do you then fear that I would again dance over a pit, because it wasartfully covered with garlands?" said Eudora. "Believe me, I have beentried with too many sorrows, and too long been bowed under a load ofshame, to be again endangered by such treacherous snares. "

Philothea looked upon her affectionately, as she replied: "You are goodand pure; but you have ever been like a loving and graceful vine, readyto cling to its nearest support. "

"'Tis you have made me so, " rejoined Eudora, kissing her pale cheek: "Toyou I have always applied for advice and instruction; and when you gaveit, I felt confident and happy, as if led by the gods. "

"Then so much the more need that I should caution the weakness I haveproduced, " responded Philothea. "Should Aspasia gain access to you, whenI am gone, she will try to convince you that happiness consists not inthe duties we perform, but in the distinction we acquire; that my hopesof Elysium are all founded on fable; that my beloved Paralus hasreturned to the elements of which he was composed; that he nourishes theplants, and forms some of the innumerable particles of the atmosphere. I have seen him in my dreams, as distinctly, as I ever saw him; and Ibelieve the same power that enabled me to see him when these poor eyeswere veiled in slumber, will restore him to my vision when they areclosed in eternal sleep. Aspasia will tell you I have been a beautifulbut idle dreamer all my life. If you listen to her syren tongue, thesecret guiding voice will be heard no more. She will make evil appeargood, and good evil, until your soul will walk in perpetual twilight, unable to perceive the real size and character of any object. "

"Never, " exclaimed Eudora. "Never could she induce me to believe you anidle dreamer. Moreover, she will never again have opportunity to exertinfluence over me. The conversation I heard between her and Alcibiadesis too well impressed upon my memory; and while that remainsunforgotten, I shall shun them both, as I would shun a pestilence. "

Philothea answered: "I do indeed believe that no blandishments will nowmake you a willing victim. But I have a secret dread of the characterand power of Alcibiades. It is his boast that he never relinquishes apursuit. I have often heard Pericles speak of his childish obstinacy andperseverance. He was one day playing at dice with other boys, when aloaded wagon came near. In a commanding tone, he ordered the driver tostop; and finding his injunctions disregarded, he laid down before thehorses' feet, and told him to go on if he dared. The same characterremains with him now. He will incur any hazard for the triumph of hisown will. From his youth, he has been a popular idol; a circumstancewhich has doubtless increased the requirements of his passions, withoutdiminishing the stubbornness of his temper. Milza tells me he hasalready inquired of her concerning your present residence and futureintentions. Obstacles will only increase his eagerness and multiply hisartifices. 

"I have asked Clinias, whose dwelling is so closely connected with ourown, to supply the place of your distant guardian, while you remain inAthens. In Pericles you might likewise trust, if he were not so fatallyunder the influence of Aspasia. Men think so lightly of these matters, Isometimes fear they might both regard the persecutions of Alcibiades tootrivial for their interference. For these reasons I wish you to returnto Elis as soon as possible when I am gone. "

Eudora's countenance kindled with indignation, as she listened to whatMilza had told. In broken and contrite tones, she answered; "Philothea, whatever trials I may suffer, my former folly deserves them all. Butrest assured, whenever it pleases the gods to remove your counsel andprotection, I will not abide in Athens a single hour after it ispossible to leave with safety. "

"I find consolation in that assurance, " replied Philothea; "and I havestrong belief that a divine shield will guard you from impending evil. And now I will go to my couch; for I am weary, and would fain be lulledwith music. "

Eudora tenderly arranged the pillows, and played a succession of sweetand plaintive tunes, familiar to their childhood. Her friend listenedwith an expression of tranquil pleasure, slowly keeping time by themotion of her fingers, until she sunk into a peaceful sleep. 

After long and sweet repose, she awoke suddenly, and looking up with abeaming glance, exclaimed, "I shall follow him soon!"

Eudora leaned over the couch, to inquire why she had spoken in suchdelighted accents. 

Philothea answered: "I dreamed that I sat upon a bank of violets, withParalus by my side; and he wove a garland and placed it on my head. Suddenly, golden sounds seemed floating in the air, melting into eachother with liquid melody. It was such a scene as Paralus oftendescribed, when his soul lived apart from the body, and only returned atintervals, to bring strange tidings of its wanderings. I turned to tellhim so; and I saw that we were both clothed in garments that shone likewoven sunbeams. Then voices above us began to sing:

 'Come hither, kindred spirits, come! Hail to the mystic two in one!'

"Even after I awoke, I seemed to hear the chorus distinctly. It soundedlike the voice of Paralus in his youth, when we used to sing together, to please my grandfather, as he sat by the side of that little shelteredbrook, over whose bright waters the trees embrace each other in silentlove. Dearest Eudora, I shall soon follow him. "

The maiden turned away to conceal her tears; for resignation to thisbereavement seemed too hard a lesson for her suffering heart. 

For several weeks, there was no apparent change in Philothea's health orspirits. The same sad serenity remained--perpetually exciting thecompassion it never seemed to ask. Each day the children of theneighbourhood brought their simple offering of flowers, with which shewove fresh garlands for the tomb of Paralus. When no longer able tovisit the sepulchre herself, she intrusted them to the youthfulPericles, who reverently placed them on his brother's urn. 

The elder Pericles seemed to find peculiar solace in the conversation ofhis widowed daughter. Scarcely a day passed without an interview betweenthem, and renewed indications of his affectionate solicitude. 

He came one day, attended by his son, on whom his desolated heart nowbestowed a double portion of paternal love. They remained a long time, in earnest discourse; and when they departed, the boy was in tears. 

Philothea, with feeble steps, followed them to the portico, and gazedafter them, as long as she could see a fold of their garments. As sheturned to lean on Eudora's arm, she said, "It is the last time I shallever see them. It is the last. I have felt a sister's love for that dearboy. His heart is young and innocent. "

For a few hours after, she continued to talk with unusual animation, andher eyes beamed with an expression of inspired earnestness. At herrequest, Geta and Milza were called; and the faithful servants listenedwith mournful gratitude to her parting words of advice and consolation. 

At evening twilight, Eudora gave her a bunch of flowers, sent by theyouthful Pericles. She took them with a smile, and said, "How fragrantis their breath, and how beautiful their colours! I have heard that thePersians write their music in colours; and Paralus spoke the sameconcerning music in the spirit-world. Perchance there was heavenlymelody written on this fair earth in the age of innocence; but mortalshave now forgotten its language. " Perceiving Eudora's thoughtfulcountenance, she said: "Is my gentle friend disturbed, lest infantnymphs closed their brief existence when these stems were broken?"

"Nay;" replied Eudora: "My heart is sad; but not for the perished geniiof the flowers. "

Philothea understood the import of her words; and pressing her handaffectionately, said, "Your love has been as balm to my lonely heart;and let that remembrance comfort you, when I go hence. Listen instillness to the whispered warnings of your attendant spirit, and hewill never leave you. I am weary; and would fain repose on youraffectionate bosom. "

Eudora gently placed her head as she desired; and carefully supportingthe precious burden, she began to sing, in low and soothing tones. 

After some time, the quiet and regular respiration of the breathannounced that the invalid had fallen into tranquil slumber. Milza came, to ask if the lamps were wanted; but receiving a silent signal fromEudora, she crept noiselessly away. 

For more than an hour, there was perfect stillness, as the shades ofevening deepened. All at once, the room was filled with soft, clearlight! Eudora turned her head quickly, to discover whence it came; butcould perceive no apparent cause for the sudden radiance. 

With an undefined feeling of awe, she looked in the countenance of herfriend. It was motionless as marble; but never had she seen anything sobeautiful, and so unearthly. 

As she gazed, doubting whether this could indeed be death, there was asound of music in the air--distinct, yet blended, like the warbling ofbirds in the spring-time. 

It was the tune Paralus had learned from celestial harps; and even afterthe last note floated away, Eudora seemed to hear the well-rememberedwords:

 Come hither, kindred spirit, come! Hail to the mystic two in one!

CHAPTER XVIII. 

 Take courage I no vain dream hast thou beheld, But in thy sleep a truth. HOMER. 

At the time of Philothea's death, Pandænus, the nephew of Phidias, wasin Athens, intending soon to return to Elis, in company with anambassador bound to Lacedæmon; and Eudora resolved to avail herself ofthis opportunity to follow the farewell advice of her friend. As thetime for departure was near at hand, no change was made in householdarrangements; and though the desolate maiden at times experiencedsensations of extreme loneliness, the near vicinity of Clinias andPhoenarete left her no fears concerning adequate protection. 

This confidence seemed well grounded; yet not many days after thefuneral solemnities, Eudora suddenly disappeared. She had gone out, asusual, to gather flowers for the tomb of the beloved sleeper; and notrinding sufficient variety in the garden, had wandered into a smallfield adjoining. Milza was the first to observe that her absence wasunusually protracted. She mentioned her anxiety to Geta, who immediatelywent out in search of his young mistress; but soon returned, saying shewas neither in the house of Clinias, nor in the neighbouring fields, norat the Fountain of Callirhöe. 

The faithful attendants at once suspected treachery in Alcibiades. "Inever rightly understood what was the difficulty, when Eudora was lockedup in her chamber, and Lucos chained to the door, " said Geta; "but fromwhat I could hear, I know that Phidias was very angry with Alcibiades. Many a time I've heard him say that he would always have his own way, either by a straight course or a crooked one. "

"And my good old master used to say he had changed but little since hewas a boy, when he made the wagoner turn back, by lying down in front ofhis horses, " rejoined Milza: "I thought of that, when Alcibiades cameand drank at the Fountain, while I was filling my urn. You remember Itold you that he just tasted of the water, for a pretence, and thenbegan to inquire where Eudora was, and whether she would remain inAthens. "

After some further consultation, it was deemed best for Milza to requesta private interview with Phoenarete, during which she freely expressedher fears. The wife of Clinias, though connected by marriage with thehouse of Alcibiades, was far from resenting the imputation, orpretending that she considered it groundless. Her feelings were at onceexcited for the lonely orphan girl, whose beauty, vivacity, andgentleness, had won upon her heart; and she readily promised assistancein any plan for her relief, provided it met the approbation of herhusband. 

There was in Salamis a large mansion built by Eurysaces, the ancestor ofAlcibiades, by whom it had been lately purchased, and repaired for asummer residence. Report said that many a fair maiden had been decoyedwithin its walls, and retained a prisoner. This place was guarded byseveral powerful dogs, and vigilant servants were always stationed atthe gates. Milza proposed to disguise herself as much as possible, and, with a basket on her head, go thither to offer fish for sale. Geta, being afraid to accompany her, hired an honest boatman to convey her tothe island, and wait till she was ready to return to Athens. 

As she approached the walls of the mansion, the dogs began to growl, butwere soon silenced by the porters. Without answering the indecent jibes, with which they greeted her ears as she passed along, the littlefish-woman balanced her basket on her head, and began carelessly to singsome snatches of a hymn to Amphitrite. It was a tune of which Eudora wasparticularly fond; and often when Milza was humming it over her work, her soft and sonorous voice had been heard responding from the innerapartment. 

She had scarcely finished the first verse, ere the chorus was repeatedby some one within the dwelling; and she recognized the half-suppressedgrowl of Hylax, as if his barking had been checked by some cautioushand. Afraid to attract attention by a prolonged stay, Milza passedalong and entered the servants' apartment. Having sold a portion of herfish, and lingered as long as she dared in conversation with the cooks, she returned slowly in the same direction, singing as she went, andcarefully observing everything around her. She was just beginning tofear the impossibility of obtaining any solution of her doubts, when shesaw a leaf fluttering near the ground, as if its motions were impelledby some other cause than the wind. Approaching nearer, she perceivedthat it was let down from a grated opening in the wall above, by asmall thread, with a little ball of wax attached to it for a weight. Sheexamined the leaf, and discovered certain letters pricked upon it; andwhen the string was pulled gently, it immediately dropped upon her arm. At the same time, a voice, which she distinctly recognized as Eudora's, was heard singing:

 On a rock, amid the roaring water, Lies Cassiopea's gentle daughter. 

Milza had just begun to sing, "Bold Perseus comes, " when she perceived aservant crossing the court, and deemed it prudent to retire in silence. She carefully preserved the leaf, and immediately after her returnhastened to the apartment of Phoenarete, to obtain an explanation. Thatmatron, like most Grecian women, was ignorant of her own writtenlanguage. The leaf was accordingly placed in a vessel of water, topreserve its freshness until Clinias returned from the Prytaneum. Heeasily distinguished the name of Pandænus joined with his own; andhaving heard the particulars of the story, had no difficulty inunderstanding that Milza was directed to apply to them for assistance. He readily promised to intercede with his profligate kinsman, andimmediately sent messengers in search of Pandænus. 

Geta awaited intelligence with extreme impatience. He was grateful formany an act of kindness from Eudora; and he could not forget that shehad been the cherished favourite of his beloved and generous master. 

At night, Clinias returned from a conference with Alcibiades, in whichthe latter denied all knowledge of Eudora; and it seemed hazardous toinstitute legal inquiries into the conduct of a man so powerful and sopopular, without further evidence than had yet been obtained. Pandænuscould not be found. At the house where he usually resided, noinformation could be obtained, except that he went out on the precedingevening, and had not returned as usual. 

During that night, and part of the following day, the two faithfulattendants remained in a state of melancholy indecision. At last, Getasaid, "I will go once more in search of Pandænus; and if he has not yetreturned, I have resolved what to do. To-day I saw one of the slaves ofArtaphernes buying olives; and he said he must have the very best, because his master was to give a feast to-night. Among other guests, hespoke of Alcibiades; and he is one that is always sure to stay late athis wine. While he is feasting, I will go to Salamis. His steward oftenbought anchovies of me at Phalerum. He is a countryman of mine; and Iknow he is as avaricious as an Odomantian. I think money will bribe himto carry a message to Eudora, and to place a ladder near the outer wallfor her escape. He is intrusted with all the keys, and can do it if hewill. And if he can get gold enough by it, I believe he will trustHermes to help him settle with his master, as he has done many a timebefore this. I will be in readiness at the Triton's Cove, and bring herback to Athens as fast as oars can fly. "

"Do so, dear Geta, " replied Milza; "but disguise yourself from the otherservants, and take with you the robe and veil that I wear to market. Then if Eudora could only walk a little more like a fish-woman, shemight pass very well. But be sure you do not pay the steward till youhave her at the boat's edge; for he that will play false games with hismaster, may do the same by you. "

Necessary arrangements were speedily made. Geta resolved to offer theearnings of his whole life as a bribe, rather than intrust the secret ofhis bold expedition to any of the household of Clinias; and Milza, fearful that their own store would not prove a sufficient temptation, brought forth a sum of money found in Eudora's apartment, together witha valuable necklace, which had been a birth-day present from Phidias. 

It was past midnight when three figures emerged from the shadow of thehigh wall surrounding the mansion of Alcibiades, and with cautious hasteproceeded toward the cove. Before they could arrive at the beach, alarge and gaily-trimmed boat was seen approaching the shore, from thedirection of the Piræus. It was flaming with torches; and a band ofmusicians poured out upon the undulating waters a rich flood of melody, rendered more distinct and soft by the liquid element over which itfloated. One of the fugitives immediately turned, and disappeared withinthe walls they had left; the other two concealed themselves in a thickgrove, the darkness of which was deepened by the glare of torches alongits borders. A man richly dressed, with several fillets on his head, andcrowned with a garland of violets, ivy, and myrtle, stepped from theboat, supported by the arm of a slave. His countenance was flushed withwine, and as he reeled along, he sung aloud:

 "Have I told you all my flames, 'Mong the amorous Syrian dames? Have I numbered every one Glowing under Egypt's sun! Or the nymphs, who, blushing sweet, Deck the shrine of Love in Crete-- Where the God, with festal play, Holds eternal holiday?"

"Castor and Polydeuces!" whispered Geta, "there goes Alcibiades. He hasreturned from his wine earlier than usual; but so blinded by the merrygod, that he would not have known us, if we had faced the glare of historches. "

"Oh, hasten! hasten!" said Eudora, weeping and trembling, as she spoke. "I beseech you do not let a moment be lost. "

As Alcibiades and his train disappeared, they left the grove, andhurried toward their boat; keeping as much as possible within the shadowof the trees. They reached the cove in safety, and Geta rowed withunwonted energy; but he was single-handed, and Salamis was many stadiafrom Athens. Long before he arrived at the place were he had beenaccustomed to land, they heard the sound of distant oars plied withfurious rapidity. 

They landed, and with the utmost haste proceeded toward the city. Eudora, fearful of being overtaken, implored Geta to seek refuge behindthe pillars of Poseidon's temple. Carefully concealing themselves in thedense shadow, they remained without speaking, and almost withoutbreathing, until their pursuers had passed by. The moment these were outof hearing, they quitted their hiding-place, and walked swiftly alongthe Piræus. Intense fear imparted a degree of strength, which themaiden, under other circumstances, would have hardly deemed it possibleto exert. She did not for a moment relax her speed, until they camewithin sight of the Areopagus, and heard noisy shouts, apparently notfar distant. Eudora, sinking with fatigue and terror, entreated Geta notto attempt any approach to the house of Clinias, where her enemies wouldcertainly be lying in wait for them. With uncertain steps they proceededtoward the great Gate of the Acropolis, until the helpless maiden, frightened at the approaching noise, stopped suddenly, and burst into aflood of tears. 

"There is one place of safety, if you have courage to try it, " saidGeta: "We are nearly under the Propylæa; and close beside us is thegrotto of Creüsa. Few dare to enter it in the day-time, and no profanesteps will venture to pass the threshold after nightfall; for it is saidthe gods often visit it, and fill it with strange sights and sounds. Shall we enter?"

It was a windy night, and the clouds that occasionally passed over theface of the moon gave the earth a dreary aspect. The high wall underwhich they stood seemed to frown gloomily upon them, and the long flightof white marble steps, leading from the Propylæa, looked cold andcheerless beneath the fitful gleamings of the moon. 

Eudora hesitated, and looked timidly around; but as the sound of riotousvoices came nearer, she seized Geta's arm, and exclaimed, in hurriedaccents, "The gods protect me! Let us enter. "

Within the grotto, all was total darkness. Having groped their way ashort distance from the entrance, they found a large rock, on whichthey seated themselves. The voices approached nearer, and theirdiscordant revelry had an awful sound amid the echoes of the grotto. These gradually died away in the distance, and were heard no more. 

When all was perfectly still, Eudora, in whispered accents, informedGeta that she had been seized, as she stooped to gather flowers withinsight of her own dwelling. Two men suddenly started up from behind awall, and one covered her mouth, while the other bound her hands. Theymade a signal to a third, who came with two attendants and a curtainedchariot, in which she was immediately conveyed to a solitary place onthe seashore, and thence to Salamis. Two men sat beside her, and heldher fast, so as to prevent any possibility of communication with the fewpeople passing at that early hour. 

Arrived at the place of destination, she was shut up in a largeapartment, luxuriously furnished. Alcibiades soon visited her, with anaffectation of the most scrupulous respect, urging the plea of ardentlove as an excuse for his proceedings. 

Aware that she was completely in his power, she concealed herindignation and contempt, and allowed him to indulge the hope that heraffections might be obtained, if she were entirely convinced of his wishto atone for the treachery and violence with which she had been treated. 

Milza's voice had been recognized the moment she began to sing; and sheat once conjectured the object that led her thither. But when hour afterhour passed without any tidings from Pandænus or Clinias, she was in astate of anxiety bordering on distraction; for she soon perceivedsufficient indication that the smooth hypocrisy of Alcibiades wasassumed but for a short period. 

She had already determined on an effort to bribe the servants, when thesteward came stealthily to her room, and offered to convey her to theTriton's Cove, provided she would promise to double the sum alreadyoffered by Geta. To this she eagerly assented, without even inquiringthe amount; and he, fearful of detection, scarcely allowed time to throwMilza's robe and veil over her own. 

Having thus far effected her escape, Eudora was extremely anxious thatPandænus and Clinias should be informed of her place of retreat, as soonas the morning dawned. When Geta told her that Pandænus had disappearedas suddenly as herself, and no one knew whither, she replied, "This, too, is the work of Alcibiades. "

Their whispered conversation was stopped by the barking of a dog, towhich the echoes of the cavern gave a frightful appearance of nearness. Each instinctively touched the other's arm, as a signal for silence. When all was again quiet, Geta whispered, "It is well for us they werenot witty enough to bring Hylax with them; for the poor fellow wouldcertainly have betrayed us. " This circumstance warned them of the dangerof listeners, and few more words were spoken. 

The maiden, completely exhausted by the exertions she had made, laid herhead on the shoulder of her attendant, and slept until the morningtwilight became perceptible through the crevices of the rocks. 

At the first approach of day, she implored Geta to hasten to the houseof Clinias, and ask his protection: for she feared to venture herselfabroad, without the presence of some one whose rank and influence wouldbe respected by Alcibiades. 

"Before I go, " replied Geta, "let me find a secure hiding-place for you;for though I shall soon return, in the meantime those may enter whosepresence may be dangerous. "

"You forget that this is a sacred place, " rejoined Eudora, in tones thatbetrayed fear struggling with her confidence. 

"There are men, with whom nothing is sacred, " answered Geta; "and manysuch are now in Athens. "

The cavern was deep, and wide. As they passed along, the dawning lightindistinctly revealed statues of Phoebus and Pan, with altars of purewhite marble. At the farthest extremity, stood a trophy of shields, helmets, and spears, placed there by Miltiades, in commemoration of hisvictory at Marathon. It was so formed as to be hollow in the centre, andGeta proposed that the timid maiden should creep in at the side, andstand upright. She did so, and it proved an effectual screen from headto foot. Having taken this prudent precaution, the faithful attendantdeparted, with a promise to return as soon as possible. But hour afterhour elapsed, and he came not. As Eudora peeped through the chinks ofthe trophy, she perceived from the entrance of the cave glowing streaksof light, that indicated approaching noon. Yet all remained still, savethe echoed din of noises in the city; and no one came to her relief. 

Not long after the sun had begun to decline from its meridian, two menentered, whom she recognized as among the individuals that had seizedand conveyed her to Salamis. As they looked carefully all around thecave, Eudora held her breath, and her heart throbbed violently. Perceiving no one, they knelt for a moment before the altars, andhastily retreated, with indications of fear; for the accusations ofguilty minds were added to the usual terrors of this subterranean abodeof the gods. 

The day was fading into twilight, when a feeble old man came, with agarland on his head, and invoked the blessing of Phoebus. He wasaccompanied by a boy, who laid his offering of flowers and fruit on thealtar of Pan, with an expression of countenance that showed how much hewas alarmed by the presence of that fear-inspiring deity. 

After they had withdrawn, no other footsteps approached the sacredplace. Anxiety of mind, and bodily weariness, more than once temptedEudora to go out and mingle with the throng continually passing throughthe city. But the idea that Geta might arrive, and be perplexed by herabsence, combined with the fear of lurking spies, kept her motionless, until the obscurity of the grotto gave indication that the shadows oftwilight were deepening. 

During the day, she had observed near the trophy a heap of witheredlaurel branches and wreaths, with which the altar and statue of Phoebushad been at various times adorned. Overcome with fatigue, and desirousto change a position, which from its uniformity had become extremelypainful, she resolved to lie down upon the rugged rock, with the sacredgarlands for a pillow. She shuddered to remember the lizards and otherreptiles she had seen crawling, through the day; but the universal fearof entering Creüsa's grotto after nightfall, promised safety from humanintrusion; and the desolate maiden laid herself down to repose, in sucha state of mind that she would have welcomed a poisonous reptile, if itbrought the slumbers of death. It seemed to her that she was utterlysolitary and friendless; persecuted by men, and forsaken by the gods. 

By degrees, all sounds died away, save the melancholy hooting of owls, mingled occasionally with the distant barking and howling of dogs. Alone, in stillness and total darkness, memory revealed herself withwonderful power. The scenes of her childhood; the chamber in which shehad slept; figures she had embroidered and forgotten; tunes that hadbeen silent for years; thoughts and feelings long buried; Philæmon'ssmile; the serene countenance of Philothea; the death-bed of Phidias;and a thousand other images of the past, came before her with all thevividness of present reality. Exhausted in mind and body, she could notlong endure this tide of recollection. Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed convulsively, as she murmured, "Oh, Philothea! why didst thouleave me? My guide, my only friend! oh, where art thou!"

A gentle strain of music, scarcely audible, seemed to make reply. Eudoraraised her head to listen--and lo! the whole grotto was filled withlight; so brilliant that every feather in the arrow of Phoebus might becounted, and the gilded horns and star of Pan were radiant as the sun. 

Her first thought was that she had slept until noon. She rubbed hereyes, and glanced at the pedestal of a statue, on which she distinctlyread the inscription: "Here Miltiades placed me, Pan, the goat-footedgod of Arcadia, who warred with the Athenians against the Medes. "

Frightened at the possibility of having overslept herself, she startedup, and was about to seek the shelter of the trophy, when Paralus andPhilothea stood before her! They were clothed in bright garments, withgarlands on their heads. His arm was about her waist, and hers rested onhis shoulder. There was a holy beauty in their smile, from which aprotecting influence seemed to emanate, that banished mortal fear. 

In sweet, low tones, they both said, as if with one voice, "SeekArtaphernes, the Persian. "

"Dearest Philothea, I scarcely know his countenance, " replied themaiden. 

Again the bright vision repeated, "Seek Artaphernes, nothing doubting. "

The sounds ceased; the light began to fade; it grew more and more dim, till all was total darkness. For a long time, Eudora remained intenselywakeful, but inspired with a new feeling of confidence and hope, thatrendered her oblivious of all earthly cares. Whence it came, she neitherknew nor asked; for such states preclude all inquiry concerning theirown nature and origin. 

After awhile, she fell into a tranquil slumber, in which she dreamed oftorrents crossed in safety, and of rugged, thorny paths, that ended inblooming gardens. She was awakened by the sound of a troubled, timidvoice, saying, "Eudora! Eudora!"

She listened a moment, and answered, "Is it you, Milza?"

"Oh, blessed be the sound of your voice, " replied the peasant. "Whereare you? Let me take your hand; for I am afraid in this awful place. "

"Don't be frightened, my good Milza. I have had joyful visions here, "rejoined the maiden. She reached out her arms as she spoke, andperceived that her companion trembled exceedingly. "May the gods protectus!" whispered she; "but it is a fearful thing to come here in thenight-time. All the gold of Croesus would not have tempted me, if Getahad not charged me to do it, to save you from starving. "

"You are indeed kind friends, " said Eudora; "and the only ones I haveleft in this world. If ever I get safely back to Elis, you shall be tome as brother and sister. "

"Ah, dear lady, " replied the peasant, "you have ever been a good friendto us;--and there is one that sleeps, who never spoke an ungentle wordto any of us. When her strength was almost gone, she bade me loveEudora, even as I had loved her; and the gods know that for her sakeMilza would have died. Phoebus protect me, but this is an awful place tospeak of those who sleep. It must be near the dawn; but it is fearfullydark here. Where is your hand? I have brought some bread and figs, andthis little arabyllus of water mixed with Lesbian wine. Eat; for youmust be almost famished. "

Eudora took the refreshment, but ere she tasted it, inquired, "Why didnot Geta come, as he promised?" Milza began to weep. 

"Has evil befallen him?" said Eudora, in tones of alarm. 

The afflicted wife sobbed out, "Poor Geta! Poor, dear Geta! I dreaded tocome into this cavern; but then I thought if I died, it would be well, if we could but die together. "

"Do tell me what has happened, " said Eudora: "Am I doomed to bringtrouble upon all who love me? Tell me, I entreat you. "

Milza, weeping as she spoke, then proceeded to say that Alcibiades haddiscovered Eudora's escape immediately after his return from the feastof Artaphernes. He was in a perfect storm of passion, and threatenedevery one of the servants with severe punishment, to extort confession. The steward received a few keen lashes, notwithstanding hisprotestations of innocence. But he threatened to appeal to themagistrates for another master; and Alcibiades, unwilling to lose theservices of this bold and artful slave, restrained his anger, even whenit was at its greatest height. 

To appease his master's displeasure, the treacherous fellow acknowledgedthat Geta had been seen near the walls, and that his boat had been lyingat the Triton's Cove. 

In consequence of this information, men were instantly ordered inpursuit, with orders to lie in wait for the fugitives, if they could notbe overtaken before morning. When Geta left Creüsa's Grotto, he wasseized before he reached the house of Clinias. 

Milza knew nothing of these proceedings, but had remained anxiouslywaiting till the day was half spent. Then she learned that Alcibiadeshad claimed Eudora and Geta as his slaves, by virtue of a debt due tohim from Phidias, for a large quantity of ivory; and notwithstanding theefforts of Clinias in their favour, the Court of Forty Four, in theborough of Alcibiades, decided that he had a right to retain them, untilthe debt was paid, or until the heir appeared to show cause why itshould not be paid. "The gods have blessed Clinias with abundantwealth, " said Eudora; "Did he offer nothing to save the innocent?"

"Dear lady, " replied Milza, "Alcibiades demands such an immense sum forthe ivory, that he says he might as well undertake to build the wall ofHipparchus, as to pay it. But I have not told you the most cruel part ofthe story. Geta has been tied to a ladder, and shockingly whipped, tomake him tell where you were concealed. He said he would not do it, ifhe died. I believe they had the will to kill him; but one of the youngslaves, whose modesty Alcibiades had insulted, was resolved to makecomplaint to the magistrates, and demand another master. She helped Getato escape: they have both taken refuge in the Temple of Theseus. Getadared trust no one but me to carry a message to Clinias. I told him hesupped with Pericles to-night; and he would not suffer me to go there, lest Alcibiades should be among the guests. "

"I am glad he gave you that advice, " said Eudora; "for though Periclesmight be willing to serve me, for Philothea's sake, I fear if he oncelearned the secret, it would soon be in Aspasia's keeping. "

"And that would be all the same as telling Alcibiades himself, " rejoinedMilza. "But I must tell you that I did not know of poor Geta'ssufferings until many hours after they happened. Since he went toSalamis in search of you, I have not seen him until late this evening. He is afraid to leave the altar, lest he should fall into the hands ofhis enemies; and that is the reason he sent me to bring you food. Heexpects to be a slave again; but having been abused by Alcibiades, heclaims the privilege of the law to be transferred to another master. "

Eudora wept bitterly, to think she had no power to rescue her faithfulattendant from a condition he dreaded worse than death. 

Milza endeavoured, in her own artless way, to soothe the distress herwords had excited. "In all Geta's troubles, he thinks more of you thanhe does of himself, " said she. "He bade me convey you to the house of awise woman from Thessalia, who lives near the Sacred Gate; for he saysshe can tell us what it is best to do. She has learned of magicians inforeign lands. They say she can compound potions that will turn hatredinto love; and that the power of her enchantments is so great, she candraw the moon down from the sky. "

"Nevertheless, I shall not seek her counsel, " replied the maiden; "for Ihave heard a better oracle. "

When she had given an account of the vision in the cave, the peasantasked, in a low and trembling voice, "Did it not make you afraid?"

"Not in the least, " answered Eudora; "and therefore I am doubtfulwhether it were a vision or a dream. I spoke to Philothea just as I usedto do; without remembering that she had died. She left me more composedand happy than I have been for many days. Even if it were a vision, Ido not marvel that the spirit of one so pure and peaceful should be lessterrific than the ghost of Medea or Clytemnestra. "

"And the light shone all at once!" exclaimed Milza, eagerly. "Trust toit, dear lady--trust to it. A sudden brightness hath ever been a happyomen. "

Two baskets, filled with Copaic eels and anchovies, had been depositednear the mouth of the cavern; and with the first blush of morning, thefugitives offered prayers to Phoebus and Pan, and went forth with thebaskets on their heads, as if they sought the market. Eudora, in herhaste, would have stepped across the springs that bubbled from therocks; but Milza held her back, saying, "Did you never hear that thesebrooks are Creüsa's tears? When the unhappy daughter of Erectheus lefther infant in this cave to perish, she wept as she departed; andPhoebus, her immortal lover, changed her tears to rills. For thisreason, the water has ever been salt to the taste. It is a bad omen towet the foot in these springs. "

Thus warned, Eudora turned aside, and took a more circuitous path. 

It happened, fortunately, that the residence of Artaphernes stood behindthe temple of Asclepius, at a short distance from Creüsa's Grotto; andthey felt assured that no one would think of searching for them withinthe dwelling of the Persian stranger. They arrived at the gate withoutquestion or hindrance; but found it fastened. To their anxious minds, the time they were obliged to wait seemed like an age; but at last thegate was opened, and they preferred a humble request to seeArtaphernes. Eudora, being weary of her load, stooped to place thebasket of fish on a bench, and her veil accidentally dropped. The portertouched her under the chin, and said, with a rude laugh, "Do yousuppose, my pretty dolphin, that Artaphernes buys his own dinner?"

Eudora's eyes flashed fire at this familiarity; but checking her naturalimpetuosity, she replied, "It was not concerning the fish that I wishedto speak to your master. We have business of importance. "

The servant gave a significant glance, more insulting than his formerfreedom. "Oh, yes, business of importance, no doubt, " said he; "but doyou suppose, my little Nereid, that the servant of the Great King ishimself a vender of fish, that he should leave his couch at an hour soearly as this?"

Eudora slipped a ring from her finger, and putting it in his hand, said, in a confidential tone, "I am not a fish-woman. I am here in disguise. Goto your master, and conjure him, if he ever had a daughter that heloved, to hear the petition of an orphan, who is in great distress. "

The man's deportment immediately changed; and as he walked away, hemuttered to himself, "She don't look nor speak like one brought up atthe gates; that's certain. "

Eudora and Milza remained in the court for a long time, but with farless impatience than they had waited at the gate. At length the servantreturned, saying his master was now ready to see them. Eudora followed, in extreme agitation, with her veil folded closely about her; and whenthey were ushered into the presence of Artaphernes, the embarrassmentof her situation deprived her of the power of utterance. With muchkindness of voice and manner, the venerable stranger said: "My servanttold me that one of you was an orphan, and had somewhat to ask of me. "

Eudora replied: "O Persian stranger, I am indeed a lonely orphan, in thepower of mine enemies; and I have been warned by a vision to come hitherfor assistance. "

Something in her words, or voice, seemed to excite surprise, mingledwith deeper feelings; and the old man's countenance grew more troubled, as she continued: "Perhaps you may recollect a maiden that sung atAspasia's house, to whom you afterwards sent a veil of shining texture?"

"Ah, yes, " he replied, with a deep sigh: "I do recollect it. They toldme she was Eudora, the daughter of Phidias. "

"I am Eudora, the adopted daughter of Phidias, " rejoined the maiden. "Mybenefactor is dead, and I am friendless. "

"Who were your parents?" inquired the Persian. 

"I never knew them, " she replied. "I was stolen from the Ionian coast byGreek pirates. I was a mere infant when Phidias bought me. "

In a voice almost suffocated with emotion, Artaphernes asked, "Were you_then_ named Eudora?"

The maiden's heart began to flutter with a new and strange hope, as shereplied, "No one knew my name. In my childish prattle, I called myselfBaby Minta. "

The old man started from his seat--his colour went and came--and everyjoint trembled. He seemed to make a strong effort to check some suddenimpulse. After collecting himself for a moment, he said, "Maiden, youhave the voice of one I dearly loved; and it has stirred the deepestfountains of my heart. I pray you, let me see your countenance. "

As Eudora threw off the veil, her long glossy hair fell profusely overher neck and shoulders, and her beautiful face was flushed with eagerexpectation. 

The venerable Persian gazed at her for an instant, and then clasped herto his bosom. The tears fell fast, as he exclaimed, "Artaminta! Mydaughter! My daughter! Image of thy blessed mother! I have sought forthee throughout the world, and at last I believed thee dead. My onlychild! My long-lost, my precious one! May the blessing of Oromasdes beupon thee. "

CHAPTER XIX. 

 Whate'er thou givest, generous let it be. EURIPIDES

When it was rumoured that Artaphernes had ransomed Eudora and Geta, byoffering the entire sum demanded for the ivory, many a jest circulatedin the agoras, at the expense of the old man who had given such anenormous price for a handsome slave; but when it became known, that hehad, in some wonderful and mysterious manner, discovered a long-lostdaughter, the tide of public feeling was changed. 

Alcibiades at once remitted his claim, which in fact never had anyfoundation in justice; he having accepted two statues in payment for theivory, previous to the death of Phidias. He likewise formally askedEudora in marriage; humbly apologizing for the outrage he had committed, and urging the vehemence of his love as an extenuation of the fault. 

Artaphernes had power to dispose of his daughter without even making anyinquiry concerning the state of her affections; but the circumstances ofhis past life induced him to forbear the exercise of his power. 

"My dear child, " said he, "it was my own misfortune to suffer by anill-assorted marriage. In early youth, my parents united me withArtaynta, a Persian lady, whose affections had been secretly bestowedupon a near kinsman. Her parents knew of this fact, but mine wereignorant of it. It ended in wretchedness and disgrace. To avoid theawful consequences of guilt, she and her lover eloped to some distantland, where I never attempted to follow them. 

Some time after, the Great King was graciously pleased to appoint meGovernor of the sea-coast in Asia Minor. I removed to Ephesus, where Isaw and loved your blessed mother, the beautiful Antiope, daughter ofDiophanes, priest of Zeus. I saw her accidentally at a fountain, andwatched her unobserved, while she bathed the feet of her little sister. Though younger than myself, she reciprocated the love she had inspired. Her father consented to our union; and for a few years I enjoyed asgreat happiness as Oromasdes ever bestows on mortals. You were our onlychild; named Artaminta, in remembrance of my mother. You were scarcelytwo years old, when you and your nurse suddenly disappeared. As severalother women and children were lost at the same time, we supposed thatyou were stolen by pirates. All efforts to ascertain your fate provedutterly fruitless. As moon after moon passed away, bringing no tidingsof our lost treasure, Antiope grew more and more hopeless. She was agentle, tender-hearted being, that complained little and suffered much. At last, she died broken-hearted. "

After remaining in silent thoughtfulness for a few moments, he added:"Of my two sons by Artaynta, one died in childhood; the other was killedin battle, before I came to Athens. I had never ceased my exertions todiscover you; but after I became childless, it was the cherished objectof existence. Some information received from Phoenician sailors led tothe conclusion that I owed my misfortune to Greek pirates; and when theGreat King informed me that he had need of services in Athens, Icherfully undertook the mission. "

"Having suffered severely in my own marriage, I would not willinglyendanger your happiness by any unreasonable exercise of parentalauthority. Alcibiades is handsome, rich, and of high rank. How do youregard his proposal of marriage?"

The colour mounted high in Eudora's cheek, and she answered hastily, "Aseasily could I consent to be the wife of Tereus, after his brutaloutrage on the helpless Philomela. I have nothing but contempt to bestowon the man who persecuted me when I was friendless, and flatters me whenI have wealthy friends. "

Artaphernes replied, "I knew not how far you might consider violent lovean excuse for base proceedings; but I rejoice to see that you have pridebecoming your noble birth. For another reason, it gives me happiness tofind you ill-disposed toward this match; for duty will soon call me toPersia, and having just recovered you in a manner so miraculous, itwould be a grievous sacrifice to relinquish you so soon. But am I sofortunate as to find you willing to return with me? Are there no strongties that bind your heart to Athens?"

Perceiving that Eudora blushed deeply, he added, in an inquiring tone, "Clinias told me to-day, that Phidias wished to unite you with thatgifted artist, his nephew Pandænus?"

The maiden replied, "I have many reasons to be grateful to Pandænus;and it was painful to refuse compliance with the wishes of mybenefactor; but if Phidias had commanded me to obey him in thisinstance, my happiness would have been sacrificed. Of all countries inthe world, there is none I so much wish to visit as Persia. Of that youmay rest assured, my father. "

The old man looked upon her affectionately, and his eyes filled withtears, as he exclaimed, "Oromasdes be praised, that I am once morepermitted to hear that welcome sound! No music is so pleasant to my earsas that word--father. Zoroaster tells us that children are a bridgejoining this earth to a heavenly paradise, filled with fresh springs andblooming gardens. Blessed indeed is the man who hears many gentle voicescall him father! But, my daughter, why is it that the commands ofPhidias would have made you unhappy? Speak frankly, Artaminta; lesthereafter there should be occasion to mourn that we misunderstood eachother. "

Eudora then told all the particulars of her attachment to Philæmon, andher brief infatuation with regard to Alcibiades. Artaphernes evinced nodispleasure at the disclosure; but spoke of Philæmon with great respectand affection. He dwelt earnestly upon the mischievous effects of suchfree customs as Aspasia sought to introduce, and warmly eulogized thestrictness and complete seclusion of Persian education. When Eudoraexpressed fears that she might never be able to regain Philæmon's love, he gazed on her beautiful countenance with fond admiration, and smiledincredulously as he turned away. 

The proposal of Alcibiades was civilly declined; the promised sum paidto his faithless steward, and the necklace, given by Phidias, redeemed. 

Hylax had been forcibly carried to Salamis with his young mistress, lesthis sagacity should lead to a discovery of her prison. When Eudoraescaped from the island, she had reluctantly left him in her apartment, in order to avoid the danger that might arise from any untimely noise;but as soon as her own safety was secured, her first thoughts were forthe recovery of this favourite animal, the early gift of Philæmon. Thelittle captive had pined and moaned continually, during their briefseparation; and when he returned, it seemed as if his boisterous joycould not sufficiently manifest itself in gambols and caresses. 

When Artaphernes was convinced that he had really found his long-lostchild, the impulse of gratitude led to very early inquiries forPandænus. The artist had not yet re-appeared; and all Athens was filledwith conjectures concerning his fate. Eudora still suspected thatAlcibiades had secreted him, for the same reason that he had claimedGeta as a slave; for it was sufficiently obvious that he had desired, asfar as possible, to deprive her of all assistance and protection. 

The event proved her suspicions well founded. On the fourth day afterher escape from Salamis, Pandænus came to congratulate Artaphernes, andhalf in anger, half in laughter, told the particulars of his story. Hehad been seized as he returned home at night, and had been forciblyconveyed to the mansion of Eurysaces, where he was kept a closeprisoner, with the promise of being released whenever he finished apicture, which Alcibiades had long desired to obtain. This was arepresentation of Europa, just entering the ocean on the back of thebeautiful bull, which she and her unsuspecting companions had crownedwith garlands. 

At first, the artist resisted, and swore by Phoebus Apollo that he wouldnot be thus forced into the service of any man; but an unexpectedcircumstance changed his resolution. 

There was a long, airy gallery, in which he was allowed to take exerciseany hour of the day. In some places, an open-work partition, richly andcuriously wrought by the skilful hand of Callicrates, separated thisgallery from the outer balustrade of the building. During his walks, Pandænus often heard sounds of violent grief from the other side of thescreen. Curiosity induced him to listen, and inquire the cause. A sad, sweet voice answered, "I am Cleonica, daughter of a noble Spartan. Takencaptive in war, and sold to Alcibiades, I weep for my dishonoured lot;for much I fear it will bring the gray hairs of my mother to an untimelygrave. "

This interview led to another, and another; and though the mode ofcommunication was imperfect, the artist was enabled to perceive that thecaptive maiden was a tall, queenly figure, with a rich profusion ofsunny hair, indicating a fair and fresh complexion. The result was apromise to paint the desired picture, provided he might have the Spartanslave as a recompense. 

Alcibiades, equally solicitous to obtain the painting, and to prolongthe seclusion of Pandænus, and being then eager in another pursuit, readily consented to the terms proposed. After Eudora's sudden changeof fortune, being somewhat ashamed of the publicity of his conduct, anddesirous not to lose entirely the good opinion of Artaphernes, he gavethe artist his liberty, simply requiring the fulfilment of his promise. 

"And what are your intentions with regard to this fair captive?"inquired the Persian, with a significant smile. 

With some degree of embarrassment, Pandænus answered, "I came to askyour protection; and that Eudora might for the present consider her as asister, until I can restore her to her family. "

"It shall be so, " replied Artaphernes; "but this is a very small part ofthe debt I owe the nephew of Phidias. Should you hereafter have a favourto ask of Cleonica's noble family, poverty shall be no obstruction toyour wishes. I have already taken measures to purchase for you a largeestate in Elis, and to remit yearly revenues, which will I trust beequal to your wishes. I have another favour to ask, in addition to themany claims you already have upon me. Among the magnificent picturesthat adorn the Poecile, I have not observed the sculptor of your gods. Ipray you exert your utmost skill in a painting of Phidias crowned by theMuses; that I may place it on those walls, a public monument of mygratitude to that illustrious man. "

"Of his statues and drawings I have purchased all that can be bought inAthens. The weeping Panthea, covering the body of Abradates with hermantle, is destined for my royal and munificent master. By the kindnessof Pericles, I have obtained for myself the beautiful group, representing my precious little Artaminta caressing the kid, in thatgraceful attitude which first attracted the attention of her benefactor. For the munificent Eleans, I have reserved the Graceful Three, whichyour countrymen have named the presiding deities over benevolentactions. All the other statues and drawings of your illustrious kinsmanare at your disposal. Nay, do not thank me, young man. Mine is still thedebt, and my heart will be ever grateful. "

The exertions of Clinias, although they proved unavailing, weregratefully acknowledged by the present of a large silver bowl, on whichthe skilful artificer, Mys, had represented, with exquisite delicacy, the infant Dionysus watched by the nymphs of Naxos. 

In the midst of this generosity, the services of Geta and Milza were notforgotten. The bribe given to the steward was doubled in the payment, and an offer made to establish them in any part of Greece or Persia, where they wished to reside. 

A decided preference was given to Elis, as the only place where theycould be secure from the ravages of war. A noble farm, in theneighbourhood of Proclus, was accordingly purchased for them, wellstocked with herds and furnished with all agricultural and householdconveniences. Geta, having thus become an owner of the soil, dropped thebrief name by which he had been known in slavery, and assumed the moresonorous appellation of Philophidias. 

Dione, old as she was, overcame her fear of perils by land and sea, andresolved to follow her young mistress into Persia. 

Before a new moon had begun its course, Pandænus fulfilled hisintention of returning to Olympia, in company with the Lacedæmonianambassador and his train. Cleonica, attended by Geta and Milza, travelled under the same protection. Artaphernes sent to Proclus fournoble horses and a Bactrian camel, together with seven minæ as aportion for Zoila. For Pterilaüs, likewise, was a sum of moneysufficient to maintain him ten years in Athens, that he might gratifyhis ardent desire to become the disciple of Plato. Eudora sent herlittle playmate a living peacock, which proved even more acceptable thanher flock of marble sheep with their painted shepherd. To Melissa wassent a long affectionate epistle, with the dying bequest of Philothea, and many a valuable token of Eudora's gratitude. 

Although a brilliant future was opening before her, the maiden's heartwas very sad, when she bade a last farewell to the honest and faithfulattendants, who had been with her through so many changing scenes, andaided her in the hour of her utmost need. The next day after theirdeparture was spent by the Persian in the worship of Mithras, andprayers to Oromasdes. Eudora, in remembrance of her vision, offeredthanksgiving and sacrifice to Phoebus and Pan; and implored the deitiesof ocean to protect the Phoenician galley, in which they were about todepart from Athens. 

These ceremonies being performed, Artaphernes and his weeping daughtervisited the studio of Myron, who, in compliance with their orders, hadjust finished the design of a beautiful monument to Paralus andPhilothea, on which were represented two doves sleeping upon garlands. 

For the last time, Eudora poured oblations of milk and honey, and placedfragrant flowers, with ringlets of her hair, upon the sepulchre of hergentle friend; then, with many tears, she bade a long farewell to scenesrendered sacred by the remembrance of their mutual love. 

CHAPTER XX. 

 Next arose A well-towered city, by seven golden gates Inclosed, that fitted to their lintels hung. Then burst forth Aloud the marriage song; and far and wide Long splendors flashed from many a quivering torch. HESIOD

When the galley arrived at the opulent city of Tyre, the noble Persianand his retinue joined a caravan of Phoenician merchants bound toEcbatana, honoured at that season of the year with the residence of theroyal family. Eudora travelled in a cedar carriage drawn by camels. Thelatticed windows were richly gilded, and hung with crimson curtains, which her father ordered to be closed at the slightest indication ofapproaching travellers. Dione, with six more youthful attendants, accompanied her, and exerted all their powers to make the time passpleasantly; but all their stories of romantic love, of heroes mortal andimmortal, combined with the charms of music, could not prevent her fromfeeling that the journey was exceedingly long and wearisome. 

She recollected how her lively spirit had sometimes rebelled against therestraints imposed on Grecian women, and sighed to think of all she hadheard concerning the far more rigid customs of Persia. Expressions offatigue sometimes escaped her; and her indulgent parent consented thatshe should ride in the chariot with him, enveloped in a long, thickveil, that descended to her feet, with two small openings of net-workfor the eyes. 

As they passed through Persia, he pointed out to her the sacred groves, inhabited by the Magii: the entrance of the cave where Zoroaster pennedhis divine precepts; and the mountain on whose summit he was wont tohold midnight communication with the heavenly bodies. 

Eudora remarked that she nowhere observed temples or altars; objects towhich her eye had always been accustomed, and which imparted such asacred and peculiar beauty to Grecian scenery. 

Artaphernes replied, "It is because these things are contrary to thespirit of Persian theology. Zoroaster taught us that the temple ofOromasdes was infinite space--his altar, the air, the earth, and theheavens. "

When the travellers arrived within sight of Ecbatana, the setting sunpoured upon the noble city a flood of dazzling light. It was girdled byseven walls of seven different colours; one rising above the other, inall the hues of the rainbow. From the centre of the innermost, arose thelight, graceful towers of the royal palace, glittering with gold. Thecity was surrounded by fertile, spacious plains, bounded on one side byMount Orontes, and on the other by a stately forest, amid whose loftytrees might here and there be seen the magnificent villas of Persiannobles. 

Eudora's heart beat violently, when her father pointed to the residenceof Megabyzus, and told her that the gilded balls on its pinnacles couldbe discovered from their own dwelling; but maiden shame prevented herfrom inquiring whether Philæmon was still the instructor of his sons. 

The morning after his arrival, Artaphernes had a private audience withhis royal master. This conference lasted so long, that many of thecourtiers supposed his mission in Greece related to matters of morepolitical importance than the purchase of pictures and statues; and thisconjecture was afterward confirmed by the favours lavished upon him. 

It was soon known throughout the precincts of the court that thefavourite noble had returned from Athens, bringing with him hislong-lost daughter. The very next day, as Eudora walked round theterraces of her father's princely mansion, she saw the royal carriagesapproach, followed by a long train of attendants, remarkable for age andugliness, and preceded by an armed guard, calling aloud to all men toretire before their presence, on pain of death. In obedience to thesecommands, Artaphernes immediately withdrew to his own apartment, closedthe shutters, and there remained till the royal retinue departed. 

The visiters consisted of Amestris, the mother of Artaxerxes; Arsinöe ofDamascus, his favourite mistress; and Parysatis, his daughter; withtheir innumerable slaves. They examined Eudora with more than childishcuriosity; pulled every article of her dress, to ascertain its colourand its texture; teased to see all her jewels; wanted to know the nameof everything in Greek; requested her to sing Greek songs; wereimpatient to learn Ionian dances; conjured her to paint a black streakfrom the eyes to the ears; and were particularly anxious to ascertainwhat cosmetic the Grecian ladies used to stain the tips of theirfingers. 

When all these important matters were settled, by means of aninterpreter, they began to discuss the merits of Grecian ladies; andloudly expressed their horror at the idea of appearing before brothersunveiled, and at the still grosser indelicacy of sometimes allowing theface to be seen by a betrothed lover. Then followed a repetition of allthe gossip of the harem; particularly, a fresh piece of scandalconcerning Apollonides of Cos, and their royal kinswoman, Amytis, thewife of Megabyzus. Eudora turned away to conceal her blushes; for theindelicacy of their language was such as seldom met the ear of a Grecianmaiden. 

The Queen mother was eloquent in praise of a young Lesbian girl, whomArtaphernes had bought to attend upon his daughter. This was equivalentto asking for the slave; and the captive herself evinced nounwillingness to join the royal household; it having been foretold by anoracle that she would one day be the mother of kings. Amestris acceptedthe beautiful Greek, with many thanks, casting a triumphant glance atArsinöe and Parysatis, who lowered their brows, as if each had reasonsof her own for being displeased with the arrangement. 

The royal guests gave and received a variety of gifts; consistingprincipally of jewels, embroidered mantles, veils, tufts of peacockfeathers with ivory handles, parrots, and golden boxes filled withroseate powder for the fingers, and black paint for the eyebrows. Atlength they departed, and Eudora's attendants showered perfumes on themas they went. 

Eudora recalled to mind the pure and sublime discourse she had so oftenenjoyed with Philothea, and sighed as she compared it with thisspecimen of intercourse with high-born Persian ladies. 

When the sun was setting, she again walked upon the terrace; and, forgetful of the customs of the country, threw back her veil, that shemight enjoy more perfectly the beauty of the landscape. She stoodthoughtfully gazing at the distant pinnacles, which marked the residenceof Megabyzus, when the barking of Hylax attracted her attention, andlooking into the garden, she perceived a richly dressed young man, withhis eyes fixed earnestly upon her. She drew her veil hastily, andretired within the dwelling, indulging the secret hope that none of herattendants had witnessed an action, which Artaphernes would deem soimprudent. 

On the following morning commenced the celebrated festival called, 'TheSalutation of Mithras;' during which, forty days were set apart forthanksgiving and sacrifice. The procession formed long before the risingof the sun. First appeared a long train of the most distinguished Magiifrom all parts of the empire, led by their chief in scarlet robes, carrying the sacred fire upon a silver furnace. Next appeared an emptychariot consecrated to Oromasdes, decorated with garlands, and drawn bywhite steeds harnessed with gold. This was followed by a magnificentlarge horse, his forehead flaming with gems, in honour of Mithras. Thencame the Band of Immortals, and the royal kindred, their Median vestsblazing with embroidery and gold. Artaxerxes rode in an ivory chariot, richly inlaid with precious stones. He was followed by a long line ofnobles, riding on camels splendidly caparisoned; and their countlessattendants closed the train. This gorgeous retinue slowly ascendedMount Orontes. When they arrived upon its summit, the chief of the Magiiassumed his tiara interwoven with myrtle, and hailed the first beams ofthe rising sun with sacrifice. Then each of the Magii in turns sungorisons to Oromasdes, by whose eternal power the radiant Mithras hadbeen sent to gladden the earth, and preserve the principle of life. Finally, they all joined in one universal chorus, while king, princes, and nobles, prostrated themselves, and adored the Fountain of Light. 

At that solemn moment, a tiger leaped from an adjoining thicket, andsprung toward the king. But ere the astonished courtiers had time tobreathe, a javelin from some unknown hand passed through the ferociousanimal, and laid him lifeless in the dust. 

Eudora had watched the procession from the house-top; and at this momentshe thought she perceived hurried and confused movements, of which herattendants could give no explanation. 

The splendid concourse returned toward the palace in the same order thatit had ascended the mountain. But next to the royal chariot there nowappeared a young man on a noble steed, with a golden chain about hisneck, and two heralds by his side, who ever and anon blew theirtrumpets, and proclaimed, "This is Philæmon of Athens, whom the kingdelighteth to honour?"

Eudora understood the proclamation imperfectly; but afar off, sherecognized the person of her lover. As they passed the house, she sawHylax running to and fro on the top of the wall, barking, and jumping, and wagging his tail, as if he too were conscious of the vicinity ofsome familiar friend. The dog evidently arrested Philæmon's attention;for he observed him closely, and long continued to look back and watchhis movements. 

A tide of sweet and bitter recollections oppressed the maiden's heart; adeadly paleness overspread her cheeks; a suffocating feeling choked hervoice; and had it not been for a sudden gush of tears, she would havefallen. 

When her father returned, he informed her that the life of Artaxerxeshad been saved by the promptitude and boldness of Philæmon, whohappened to perceive the tiger sooner than any other person at thefestival. He added, "I saw Philæmon after the rescue, but we had briefopportunity to discourse together. I think his secluded habits haveprevented him from hearing that I found a daughter in Athens. He told mehe intended soon to return to his native country, and promised to be myguest for a few days before he departed. Furthermore, my child, theGreat King, in the fulness of his regal bounty, last night sent amessenger to demand you in marriage for his son Xerxes. "

He watched her countenance, as he spoke; but seemed doubtful how tounderstand the fluctuating colour. Still keeping his scrutinizing gazefixed upon her, he continued, "Artaminta, this is an honour not to belightly rejected; to be princess of Persia now, and hereafter perhapsits queen. "

In some confusion, the maiden answered, "Perhaps the prince may notapprove his father's choice. "

"No, Artaminta; the prince has chosen for himself. He sent his sister toobtain a view of my newly discovered daughter; and he himself saw you, as you stood on the terrace unveiled. "

In an agitated voice, Eudora asked, "And must I be compelled to obey thecommands of the king?"

"Unless it should be his gracious pleasure to dispense with obedience, "replied Artaphernes. "I and all my household are his servants. I prayOromasdes that you may never have greater troubles than the fear ofbecoming a princess. "

"But you forget, my dear father, that Parysatis told me her brotherXerxes was effeminate and capricious, and had a new idol with everychange of the moon. Some fairer face would soon find favour in hissight; and I should perhaps be shut up with hundreds of forgottenfavourites, in the old harem, among silly women and ugly slaves. "

Her father answered, in an excited tone, "Artaminta, if you had beenbrought up with more becoming seclusion, like those silly Persian women, you would perhaps have known, better than you now seem to do, that awoman's whole duty is submission. "

Eudora had never heard him speak so harshly. She perceived that hisparental ambition was roused, and that her indifference to the royalproposal displeased him. The tears fell fast, as she replied, "Dearfather, I will obey you, even if you ask me to sacrifice my life, at thecommand of the king. "

Her tears touched the feelings of the kind old man. He embraced heraffectionately, saying, "Do not weep, daughter of my beloved Antiope. Itwould indeed gratify my heart to see you Queen of Persia; but you shallnot be made wretched, if my interest with the Great King can preventit. All men praise his justice and moderation; and he has pledged hisroyal word to grant anything I ask, in recompense for services renderedin Greece. The man who has just saved his life can no doubt obtain anyfavour. But reflect upon it well, my daughter. Xerxes has no son; andshould you give birth to a boy, no new favourite could exclude you fromthe throne. Perhaps Philæmon was silent from other causes than ignoranceof your arrival in Persia; and if this be the case, you may repent a toohasty rejection of princely love. "

Eudora blushed like crimson, and appeared deeply pained by thissuggestion; but she made no answer. Artaphernes departed, promising toseek a private audience with the king; and she saw him no more thatnight. When she laid her head upon the pillow, a mind troubled with manyanxious thoughts for a long time prevented repose; and when she did sinkto sleep, it was with a confused medley of ideas, in which theremembrance of Philæmon's love was mixed up with floating visions ofregal grandeur, and proud thoughts of a triumphant marriage, now placedwithin her power, should he indeed prove as unforgiving and indifferent, as her father had suggested. 

In her sleep, she saw Philothea; but a swift and turbid stream appearedto roll between them; and her friend said, in melancholy tones, "Youhave left me, Eudora; and I cannot come to you, now. Whence are thesedark and restless waters, which separate our souls?"

Then a variety of strange scenes rapidly succeeded each other--allcheerless, perturbed, and chaotic. At last, she seemed to be standingunder the old grape-vine, that shaded the dwelling of Anaxagoras, andPhilæmon crowned her with a wreath of myrtle. In the morning, soon aftershe had risen from her couch, Artaphernes came to her apartment, andmildly asked if she still wished to decline the royal alliance. Heevinced no displeasure when she answered in the affirmative; but quietlyreplied, "It may be that you have chosen a wise part, my child; for trueit is, that safety and contentment rarely take up their abode withprinces. But now go and adorn yourself with your richest apparel; forthe Great King requires me to present you at the palace, before the hourof noon. Let your Greek costume be laid aside; for I would not have mydaughter appear like a foreigner, in the presence of her king. "

With a palpitating heart, Eudora resigned herself into the hands of herPersian tire-women, who so loaded her with embroidery and gems, that shecould scarcely support their weight. 

She was conveyed to the palace in a cedar carriage, carefully screenedfrom observation. Her father rode by her side, and a numerous train ofattendants followed. Through gates of burnished brass, they entered asmall court with a tesselated pavement of black and white marble. Thencethey passed into a long apartment, with walls of black marble, andcornices heavily gilded. The marble was so highly polished, that Eudorasaw the light of her jewels everywhere reflected like sunbeams. Surprised by the multiplied images of herself and attendants, she didnot at first perceive, through the net-work of her veil, that a youngman stood leaning against the wall, with his arms folded. Thiswell-remembered attitude attracted her attention, and she scarcelyneeded a glance to assure her it was Philæmon. 

It being contrary to Persian etiquette to speak without license withinhearing of the royal apartments, the Athenian merely smiled, and bowedgracefully to Artaphernes; but an audible sigh escaped him, as heglanced at the Greek attendants. Eudora hastily turned away her head, when he looked toward her; but her heart throbbed so violently thatevery fold of her veil trembled. They continued thus in each other'spresence many minutes; one in a state of perfect unconsciousness, theother suffering an intensity of feeling, that seemed like the condensedexcitement of years. At last a herald came to say it was now thepleasure of the Great King to receive them in the private court, openinginto the royal gardens. 

The pavement of this court was of porphyry inlaid with costly marbles, in various hieroglyphics. The side connected with the palace was adornedwith carved open-work, richly painted and gilded, and with jaspertablets, alternately surmounted by a golden ram and a winged lion; onethe royal ensign of Persia, the other emblematic of the Assyrian empireconquered by Cyrus. The throne was placed in the centre, under a canopyof crimson, yellow, and blue silk, tastefully intermingled andembroidered with silver and gold. Above this was an image of the sun, with rays so brilliant, that it dazzled the eyes of those who lookedupon it. 

The monarch seemed scarcely beyond the middle age, with long flowinghair, and a countenance mild and dignified. On his right hand stoodXerxes--on his left, Darius and Sogdianus; and around him were anumerous band of younger sons; all wearing white robes, with jewelledvests of Tyrian purple. 

As they entered, the active buzzing of female voices was heard behindthe gilded open-work of the wall; but this was speedily silenced by asignal from the herald. Artaphernes prostrated himself, till hisforehead touched the pavement; Eudora copied his example; but Philæmonmerely bowed low, after the manner of the Athenians. Artaxerxes badethem arise, and said, in a stern tone, "Artaphernes, has thy daughterprepared herself to obey our royal mandate? Or is she still contemptuousof our kingly bounty?"

Eudora trembled; and her father again prostrated himself, as he replied:"O great and benignant king! mayest thou live forever. May Oromandesbless thee with a prosperous reign, and forever avert from thee themalignant influence of Arimanius. I and my household are among the leastof thy servants. May the hand that offends thee be cut off, and cast tounclean dogs. "

"Arise, Artaphernes!" said the monarch: "Thy daughter has permission tospeak. "

Eudora, awed by the despotic power and august presence of Artaxerxes, spoke to her father, in a low and tremulous voice, and reminded him ofthe royal promise to grant whatever he might ask. "

Philæmon turned eagerly, and a sudden flush mantled his cheeks, when heheard the pure Attic dialect, "with its lovely marriage of sweetsounds. "

"What does the maiden say?" inquired the king. Artaphernes again paidhomage, and answered; "O Light of the World! Look in mercy upon thedaughter of thy servant, and grant that her petition may find favour inthy sight. As yet, she hath not gained a ready utterance of the Persianlanguage--honoured and blessed above all languages, in being themessenger of thy thoughts, O king. Therefore she spoke in the Greektongue, concerning thy gracious promise to grant unto the humblest ofthy servants whatsoever he might ask at thy hands. "

Then the monarch held forth his golden sceptre, and replied, "Be it untothee, as I have said. I have sought thy daughter in marriage for Xerxes, prince of the empire. What other boon does Artaphernes ask of the king?"

The Persian approached, and reverently touching the point of thesceptre, answered: "O King of kings! before whom the nations of theearth do tremble. Thy bounty is like the overflowing Nilus, and thymercy refreshing as dew upon the parched earth. If it be thy pleasure, OKing, forgive Artaminta, my daughter, if she begs that the favour of theprince, like the blessed rays of Mithras, may fall upon some fairerdamsel. I pray thee have her excused. "

Xerxes looked up with an angry frown; but his royal father replied, "Theword of the king is sacred; and his decree changeth not. Be it unto theeeven as thou wilt. "

Then turning to Philæmon, he said: "Athenian stranger, our royal lifepreserved by thy hand deserves a kingly boon. Since our well beloved soncannot find favour in the eyes of this damsel, we bestow her upon thee. Her father is one of the illustrious Pasargadæ, and her ancestors werenot unremotely connected with the princes of Media. We have never lookedupon her countenance--deeming it wise to copy the prudent example of ourcousin Cyrus; but report describes her beautiful as Panthea. "

Eudora shrunk from being thus bestowed upon Philæmon; and she would havesaid this to her father, had he not checked the first half-uttered wordby a private signal. 

With extreme confusion, the Athenian bowed low, and answered, "Pardonme, O King, and deem me not insensible of thy royal munificence. I praythee bestow the daughter of the princely Artaphernes upon one moreworthy than thy servant. "

"Now, by the memory of Cyrus!" exclaimed Artaxerxes, "The king's favoursshall this day be likened unto a beggar, whose petitions are rejected atevery gate. "

Then, turning to his courtiers, he added: "A proud nation are theseGreeks! When the plague ravaged all Persia and Media, Hippocrates of Cosrefused our entreaties, and scorned our royal bounty; saying he was bornto serve his own countrymen, and not foreigners. Themistocles, on whomour mighty father bestowed the revenues of cities, died, rather thanfight for him against Athens; and lo! here is a young Athenian, whorefuses a maiden sought by the Persian prince, with a dowry richer thanPactolus. 

Philæmon bowed himself reverently, and replied: "Deem not, O king, thatI am moved by Grecian pride; for well I know that I am all unworthy ofthis princely alliance. An epistle lately received from Olympia makes itnecessary for me to return to Greece; where, O king, I seek a belovedmaiden, to whom I was betrothed before my exile. "

Eudora had trembled violently, and her convulsive breathing was audible, while Philæmon spoke; but when he uttered the last words, forgetful ofthe reverence required of those who stood in the presence of majesty, she murmured, "Oh, Philothea!" and sunk into the arms of her father. 

The young man started; for now, not only the language, but the toneswere familiar to his heart. As the senseless form was carried into thegarden, he gazed upon it with an excited and bewildered expression. 

Artaxerxes smiled, as he said: "Athenian stranger, the daughter ofArtaphernes, lost on the coast of Ionia, was discovered in the householdof Phidias, and the Greeks called her Eudora. "

Philæmon instantly knelt at the monarch's feet, and said, "Pardon me, Oking. I was ignorant of all this. I ----"

He would have explained more fully; but Artaxerxes interrupted him; "Weknow it all, Athenian stranger--we know it all. You have refusedArtaminta, and now we bestow upon you Eudora, with the revenues ofMagnesia and Lampsacus for her dowry. "

Before the next moon had waned, a magnificent marriage was celebrated inthe court of audience, opening into the royal gardens. On a shiningthrone, in the midst of a stately pavilion, was seated Artaxerxes, surrounded by the princes of the empire. Near the throne stood Philæmonand Eudora. Artaphernes placed the right hand of the bride within theright hand of the bridegroom, saying, "Philæmon of Athens, I bestow uponthee, Artaminta, my daughter, with my estates in Pasagarda, and fivethousand darics as her dowry. "

The chief of the Magii bore sacred fire on a silver censer, and thebridal couple passed slowly around it three times, bowing reverently tothe sacred emblem of Mithras. Then the bridegroom fastened a goldenjewel about the bride's neck, and they repeated certain words, promisingfidelity to each other. The nuptial hymn was sung by six handsomeyouths, and as many maidens, clothed in white garments, with a purpleedge. 

Numerous lamps were lighted in the trees, making the gardens bright asnoon. Women belonging to the royal household, and to the most favouredof the nobility, rode through the groves and lawns, in rich pavilions, on the backs of camels and white elephants. As the huge animals were ledalong, fireworks burst from under their feet, and playing for a momentin the air, with undulating movements, fell in a sparkling shower. 

Artaxerxes gave a luxurious feast, which lasted seven days; during whichtime the Queen entertained her guests with equal splendour, in theapartments of the women. 

The Athenian decree against those of foreign parentage had been repealedin favour of young Pericles; but in that country everything was in atroubled and unsettled state; and Artaphernes pleaded hard to have hisdaughter remain in Persia. 

It was therefore decided that the young couple should reside atPasagarda, situated in a fertile valley, called the Queen's Girdle, because its revenues were appropriated to that costly article of theroyal wardrobe. This pleasant city had once been the favourite residenceof Cyrus the Great, and a plain obelisk in the royal gardens marked hisburial-place. The adjacent promontory of Taoces afforded a convenientharbour for Tyrian merchants, and thus brought in the luxuries ofPhoenicia, while it afforded opportunities for literary communicationbetween the East and the West. Here were celebrated schools under thedirection of the Magii, frequently visited by learned men from Greece, Ethiopia, and Egypt. 

Philæmon devoted himself to the quiet pursuits of literature; andEudora, happy in her father, husband and children, thankfullyacknowledged the blessings of her lot. 

Her only daughter, a gentle maiden, with plaintive voice and earnesteyes, bore the beloved name of Philothea. 

APPENDIX

_Zeus_--The Jupiter of the Romans. 

_Zeus Xenius_--Jupiter the Hospitable. 

_Hera_--Juno. 

_Pallas_--Minerva. 

_Pallas Athena_--An ancient appellation of Minerva, from which Athenstook its name. 

_Pallas Parthenia_--Pallas the Virgin. 

_Pallas Promachos_--Pallas the Defender. 

_Phoebus_--The Apollo of the Romans; the Sun. 

_Phoebus Apollo_--Phoebus the Destroyer, or the Purifier. 

_Phoebe_--Diana; the Moon. 

_Artemis_--Diana. 

_Agrotera_--Diana the Huntress. 

_Orthia_--Name of Diana among the Spartans. 

_Poseidon_--Neptune. 

_Aphrodite_--Venus. 

_Urania_--The Heavenly Venus. The same name was applied to the Muse ofAstronomy. 

_Eros_--Cupid. 

_Hermes_--Mercury. 

_Demeter_--Ceres. 

_Persephone_--Proserpine. 

_Dionysus_--Bacchus. 

_Pandamator_--A name of Vulcan, signifying the All-subduing. 

_Mnemosyne_--Goddess of Memory. 

_Chloris_--Flora. 

_Asclepius_--Esculapius. 

_Rhamnusia_--Name of a statue of Nemesis, goddess of Vengeance; socalled because it was in the town of Rhamnus. 

_Polydeuces_--Pollux. 

_Leto_--Latona. 

_Taraxippus_--A deity whose protection was implored at Elis, that noharm might happen to the horses. 

_Erinnys_--The Eumenides, or Furies. 

_Naiades_--Nymphs of Rivers, Springs, and Fountains. 

_Nereides_--Nymphs of the Sea. 

_Oreades_--Nymphs of the Mountains. 

_Dryades_--Nymphs of the Woods. 

_Oromasdes_--Persian name for the Principle of Good. 

_Mithras_--Persian name for the Sun. 

_Arimanius_--Persian name for the Principle of Evil. 

_Odysseus_--Ulysses. 

_Achilleus_-Achilles. 

_Cordax_--An immodest comic dance. 

_Agora_--A Market House. 

_Prytaneum_--The Town House. 

_Deigma_--A place in the Piræus, corresponding to the modern Exchange. 

_Clepsydra_--A Water-dial. 

_Cotylæ_--A measure. Some writers say one third of a quart; others muchless. 

_Arytana_--A small cup. 

_Arabyllus_--A vase, wide at bottom and narrow at top. 

_Archons_--Chief Magistrates of Athens. 

_Prytanes_--Magistrates who presided over the Senate. 

_Phylarchi_--Sheriffs. 

_Epistates_--Chairman, or speaker. 

_Hippodrome_--The Horse-course. 

_Stadium_--Thirty-six and a half rods. 

_Obulus_, (plural _Oboli_)--A small coin, about the value of a penny. 

_Drachma_, (plural _Drachmæ_)--About ten-pence sterling. 

_Mina_, (plural _Minæ_)--Four pounds, three shillings, four pence. 

_Stater_--A gold coin; estimated at about twelve shillings, three pence. 

_Daric_--A Persian gold coin, valued one pound, twelve shillings, threepence. 

(All the above coins are estimated very differently by different writers. )

 * * * * *

"The midnight procession of the Panathenæa. " p. 11. 

This festival in honour of Pallas was observed early in the summer, every fifth year, with great pomp. 

"The Sacred Peplus. " p. 12. 

This was a white garment consecrated to Pallas, on which the actions ofillustrious men were represented in golden embroidery. 

"Festival of Torches. " p. 15. 

In honour of Prometheus. The prize was bestowed on him who ran thecourse without extinguishing his torch. 

"Six months of seclusion within the walls of the Acropolis, wererequired of the Canephoræ. " p. 22. 

Maidens of the first families were selected to embroider the sacredpeplus. The two principal ones were called Canephoræ, because theycarried baskets in the Panathenaic procession. 

"Fountain of Byblis. " p. 33. 

This name was derived from a young Ionian, passionately fond of herbrother Caunus, for whom she wept till she was changed into a fountain, near Miletus. 

"During the festivities of the Dionysia. " p. 42. 

This festival, in honour of Dionysus, was observed with great splendour. Choragic games are supposed to have been celebrated; in which prizeswere given to the successful competitors in music, and the drama. 

"The tuneful soul of Marsyas. " p. 43. 

Marsyas was a celebrated musician of Phrygia, generally considered theinventor of the flute. 

"Contest between fighting quails. " p. 43. 

In Athens, quails were pitched against each other, in the same manner asgame-cocks among the moderns. 

"Pericles withdrew a rose from the garland. " p. 44. 

This flower was sacred to Silence. The ancients often suspended it abovethe table at feasts, to signify that what was said _sub rosa_ was not tobe repeated. 

"A life-time as long as that conferred upon the namesake of Tithonus. "p. 46. 

It is related of him, that he asked and obtained the gift of immortalityin this world; but unfortunately forgot to ask for youth and vigour. 

"Eleusinian Mysteries. " p. 47. 

Ceremonies at Eleusis, in honour of Demeter, observed with greatsecrecy. Those who were initiated were supposed to be peculiarly underthe protection of the gods. 

"Model for the sloping roof of the Odeum. " p. 54. 

Pericles was usually represented with a helmet, to cover the deformityin his skull. It was jestingly said that the model for the Odeum wasfrom his own head. 

"Patriotic song of Callistratus. " p. 56. 

Translated from the Greek, by the Rt. Rev. G. W. Doane, Bishop of NewJersey. 

"While our rosy fillets shed, " &c. P. 57. 

The 43d Ode of Anacreon. This and other extracts from the same poet aretranslated by Thomas Moore, Esq. 

"All ending in ippus and ippides. " p. 61. 

Ippus is the Greek for horse. Wealthy Athenians generally belonged tothe equestrian order; to which the same ideas of honour were attached asto the knights, or cavaliers, of modern times. Their names oftensignified some quality of a horse; as Leucippus, a white horse, &c. 

"Describing her pompous sacrifices to Demeter. " p. 64. 

None but Greeks were allowed to enter the temples of this goddess. 

"Urania alone confers the beauty-giving zone. " p. 69. 

Urania was the Heavenly Venus, who presided over the pure sentiment oflove, in distinction from Aphrodite, who presided over the sensualpassion. 

"The Pleiades mourning for their lost sister. " p. 74. 

One of the stars in the constellation of the Pleiades is said to havedisappeared. They were fabled as seven sisters, and one lost her placein the sky by marrying a mortal. 

"More happy than the gods is he. " p. 75. 

Second Ode of Sappho, translated by F. Fawkes, Esq. 

"He has clothed the Graces. " p. 76. 

Socrates was originally a sculptor. He carved a beautiful group of theGraces; said to have been the first that were represented with clothing. 

"Too frugal to buy coloured robes. " p. 76. 

The common people in Athens generally bought white garments, for theeconomy of having them dyed when they were defaced. 

"Every human being has, like Socrates, an attendant spirit. " p. 89. 

In the Phoedrus of Plato, Socrates is represented as saying, "When I wasabout to cross the river, a demoniacal and usual sign was given me; andwhenever this takes place, it always prohibits me from accomplishingwhat I was about to do. In the present instance, I seemed to hear avoice, which would not suffer me to depart till I had made an expiation;as if I had offended in some particular a divine nature. "

"His statue stands among the Olympionicæ. " p. 92. 

The victors at the Olympic Games had their statues placed in the groves. These statues were called Olympionicæ. 

"Count me on the summer trees. " p. 98. 

Part of the 14th Ode of Anacreon. 

"As soon would I league myself with Odomantians. " p. 112. 

The Odomantians of Thrace, near the river Strymon, had the samegrasping, avaricious character, attributed to the Jews in modern times. 

"Concealed their frauds amid the flames of the Treasury. " p. 113. 

The Treasury in Athens was burned to the ground, by the Treasurers, whotook that method to avoid being called to account for the money they hadembezzled. 

"That comes of having the Helots among them. " p. 116. 

The freemen of Sparta were forbidden the exercise of any mechanical orlaborious employment. All these duties devolved upon the Helots; whiletheir masters spent their time in dancing, feasting, hunting, andfighting. 

"He approves the law forbidding masters to bestow freedom. " p. 117. 

There was a Spartan law forbidding masters to emancipate their slaves. About two thousand, who were enfranchised by a public decree, for havingbravely defended the country during the Peloponessian war, soon afterdisappeared suddenly, and were supposed to have been secretly murdered. 

"Whip them, merely to remind them of bondage. " p. 117. 

The Helots were originally a brave people; but after they were conqueredby the Spartans, no pains were spared to render them servile anddegraded. Once a year they publicly received a severe flagellation, merely to remind them that they were slaves. They were never allowed tolearn any liberal art, or to sing manly songs. In order to expose themto greater contempt, they were often obliged to perform indecent dances, and to get brutally drunk, that their master's children might learn todespise such uncomely things. 

"Things as trifling as the turning of a shell. " p. 120. 

This was an Athenian proverb, applied to things that were done quickly, or changed easily. 

"You must indeed wrestle at Cynosarges. " p. 120. 

This was a name of Hercules; and because he was illegitimate, it wasapplied to a place near the Lyceum, where those of half Athenian blood, were wont to exercise in gymnastic sports. Themistocles, being partly offoreign extraction, induced the young Athenian nobles to go there andwrestle with him, that the distinction might be done away. 

"Festival Anthesteria. " 120. 

In honour of Dionysus. The best drinker was rewarded with a golden crownand a cask of wine; and none but Athenians were allowed to enter thetheatre. 

"Which he inscribed Demos. " p. 131. 

A phrase signifying the People, or the Democracy. 

"Sing their welcome to Ornithæ. " p. 134, This name was applied to a wind that blew in the spring, at the timewhen the birds began to return. It was a Grecian custom for children togo about with garlands from door to door, singing a welcome to theswallows, and receiving trifling presents in return. 

"The marble sent by Darius. " p. 136. 

The Persians were so confident of victory that they brought with themmarble to erect a trophy on the plains of Marathon. From this marblePhidias sculptured a statue of Vengeance, which was called Rhamnusia. 

"Filled my pillow with fresh laurel leaves. " p. 143. 

Phoebus was supposed to inspire dreams and prophecy; and the laurelwhich was sacred to him, was supposed to be endowed with similarproperties. 

"Like one returned from the cave of Trophonius. " p. 147. 

In this cave was a celebrated oracle. Those who entered it alwaysreturned pale and dejected. 

"Psyche bending over the sleeping Eros. " p. 150. 

This beautiful fable represents the union of the human soul withimmortal love. Pysche was warned that separation would be theconsequence, if she looked on the countenance of her divine lover. Shegazed on his features as he slept; and was left to sorrow alone. 

"Even the Diasia are no longer observed. " p. 154. 

Festivals in honour of Zeus, because he delivered men from misfortunesand dangers. 

"When the Muses and the Charities inhabit the same temple. " p. 160. 

Among the Greeks, the Graces were called the Charities. It was abeautiful idea thus to deify the moral, rather than the outward graces;and to represent innocent and loving nymphs, forever hand in hand, presiding over kind and gentle actions. The Graces were often worshippedin the same temple with the Muses. 

"Olive garlands suspended on the doors. " p. 185. 

This was a common practice during the festival of Thargelia, in honourof Phoebus. 

"Gently touched the back part of his head with a small wand. " p. 202. 

That the phenomena of animal magnetism were not entirely unknown to theancients, appears by what Clearchus relates of an experiment tried inthe presence of Aristotle. He speaks of a man who, by means of "asoul-attracting wand, " let the soul out of a sleeping lad, and left thebody insensible. When the soul was again led into the body, it relatedall that had happened to it. 

"The laws of the country made it impossible to accompany her belovedhusband. " p. 206. 

No woman was allowed to enter Olympia, during the celebration of thegames. 

"Deemed he had fallen by the dart of Phoebus Apollo. " p. 208. 

Those who died very suddenly were supposed to have been struck with thearrows of Phoebus, or his sister. 

"Its best pleasures are like the gardens of Adonis. " p. 213. 

When the annual procession formed to mourn the death of Adonis, earthwas placed in shells, and lettuce planted in it, in commemoration ofAdonis laid out on a bed of lettuces. These shells were called theGardens of Adonis. Their freshness soon withered, on account of theshallowness of the earth. 

"Rather gain one prize from the Choragus than ten from the Gymnasiarch. "p. 219. 

The first presided over musical and literary competition; the last overathletic games. 

"The statue of Persephone, (that ominous bridal gift. )" p. 226. 

While Persephone was gathering flowers, she was seized by Pluto, andcarried to the regions of the dead, over which she presided. Hence thehair of the deceased was consecrated to her, and her name invoked atfunerals. 

"Milza sneezed aloud. " p. 227. 

This was considered a lucky omen; particularly if the sound came fromthe direction of the right hand. 

"He will trust to Hermes to help him. " p. 239. 

Hermes was the god of lies and fraud. 

"Have I told you all my flames. " p. 241. 

Part of the 14th ode of Anacreon. 

"Threatened to appeal to the magistrates for another master. " p. 250. 

The Athenian slave laws were much more mild than modern codes. If aservant complained of being abused, his master had no power to retainhim. 

"Build the wall of Hipparchus. " p. 251. 

A wall built round the Academia by Hipparchus was so expensive that itbecame a proverb applied to all costly undertakings. 

"One of the slaves whose modesty Alcibiades had insulted. " p. 251. 

Slaves that were either personally abused, or insulted, took refuge inthe Temple of Theseus, and could not be compelled to return to those ofwhom they complained. 

"These brooks are Creüsa's tears. " p. 253. 

Ion was the son of Phoebus and Creüsa. His mother, to avoid her father'sdispleasure, concealed the birth of the infant, and hid him in thegrotto, which afterwards bore her name. The child was preserved, andbrought up in the temple of Phoebus. 

"She does not speak like one brought up at the gates. " p. 254. 

The lower classes of tradesmen were generally placed near the gates. 

"One of the illustrious Pasargadæ. " p. 280. 

These were the noblest families in Persia. 

 * * * * *

In some unimportant matters, I have not adhered strictly to dates;deeming this an allowable freedom in a work so purely romantic, relatingto times so ancient. 

I am aware that the Christian spirit is sometimes infused into a Grecianform; and in nothing is this more conspicuous than the representation oflove as a pure sentiment rather than a gross passion. 

Greek names for the deities were used in preference to the Roman, because the latter have become familiarized by common and vulgar use. 

If there be errors in the application of Greek names and phrases, myexcuse must be an entire want of knowledge in the classic languages. But, like the ignoramus in the Old Drama, I can boast, "Though I _speak_no Greek, I love the _sound_ on't. "