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most insolent to God in the very devotion by which it most thought to honour him , bore them all through it . Loving men and women , who in their other life could be most kind , most just , most sensible in their dealings with the God of truth and justice , could become most wicked . Priests and wise men , teachers of real wisdom , pioneers of early knowledge , men who made law , who mapped out the verb bend into mood
Heavens and moulded language , bidding the flexible , and tense , and person , and express out the innermost emotions of the spirit , could here forget their wisdom and lead their people into folly . And he , Phaon himself , could be warmed with the same madness . A wild , a hideous dream could raise in him the true emotions of genuine heroism ; and he moved to his death as bravely , with as deep a sacrifice of self , as if he were going to shed his blood in turning back an invader ' s army from the hearths
of his country . The people passed down upon the sands . The Curetes , like statues inspired with a sudden life , joining with the other priests , formed a circle about him , and began to move round , first with slow , measured steps , then faster , and even faster , chanting their wild hymn , and waving their arms now towards Heaven , and now towards the victim , as if every evil influence which was descending they would intercept with their incantations and turn them all into a single stream , while the High Priest of Apollo stood with his arms
folded on a raised throne by the side of the altar , watching for the first flush of sunlight on the mountains of Eubcea . So beautiful it was , that stillflowing , soft , rippling sea , crisping its tiny waves at their feet , the sea birds waking on its surface , crooning their feathers , or trying their wings in short flights after their night sleep . The last star had gone out . It had waned away before its hour , in haste to escape from a sight so unlovely ; and the pale , wan moon was hurrying down like a ghost behind the hills , as if heartsick at the ghastly follies of unhappy men .
Ah ! madmen , was this fair world cursed , then ? and were such deeds as yours to wash it clean ? Ah ! could ye but know that it is ye who curse it ; ye , with your own dark frenzy ! That sea may wash those shores for a thousand thousand years , but the stained memory of your accursed rites shall brood over them , and shall never be washed away ; and men in after ages shall shudder as they pass by , and look to Heaven and offer silent thanksgiving that ye could do this and yet God could forbear you , and the polluted earth was yet left remaining .
A shout rose out of the crowd ; the rising clouds were lighting ; a few more moments and the rays would be on the mountain peaks . The dance ceased , two of the inferior priests left the circle and approached Phaon to bind him . He pressed them disdainfully back ; a free Athenian was giving himself as a free sacrifice , he said ; he was not to be offered by them like a slave or an animal . He was moving proudly towards the altar , when a confused cry rose among the chorus of girls as a maiden broke through the
circle and rushed towards him . She gained the moment of surprise . An instant after a hundred hands were stretched out to hold her back ; but it was too late . Phaon vainly trying to push her from him only hastened the fatal touch which would give her to share his fate . Her arms were round him , and to touch Phaon was deadly as to touch one struck with the plague . Lycoris too must die ; by the holy law of Apollo Lycoris must die . Phaon was devoted to the gods , and after their solemn choice no living creature except ' the priests might touch him . Whatever did so the gods had chosen
too . A silent horror fell over the people . They were too shocked to speak or move ; only old Aratus staggered blindly forward . Miserable man ! He too would have gone to his death in the vain effort to save his child ; but his steps , like his heart , were more feeble than hers ; a single hand held him back , and he sank helplessly on the ground . Where was now the pride of the blood of Theseus , which might not mingle with the stream which flowed in lower veins ? It must i \ o \ v now in the same bowl with Phaon ' s , to mingle with it in death if not in life . Where was the fair talk of the high choice of
the gods , and the glory of a noble death ? His words had been as wind upon his lips . The cant of race , the cant of creed , the prating hollowness of fair-sounding talk ; how does every mask fall off when the deep spirit of the heart is truly stirred ! Lycoris still clung to Phaon . He turned away ; he could not look on her . " Oh , Phaon ! " she said , " my Phaon ! will you not speak to me ?" " Speak to you , Lycoris ! Oh ! what , what have you done ?" " What have I done , Phaon ? Do you think I could live without you ? I might not be yours for the short life of earth ; I am going with you , then , where I shall be yours for ever in the happy islands of the blessed . "
He turned slowly towards her ; the deadly hand of the minister of the sacrifice was resting on her shoulder . Easy , natural , even sainted , as his own sacrifice had seemed to him , it showed in all its horrors when this fair lily was to be broken . " Never , never ! " he cried ; " this dreadful death ; it shall not be . You , Lycoris you !"
" What ! " he cried to the crowd , who were staring terror-struck at the scene , " shall this thing be ? and you , free born Athenians ! will you look on and witness it ? See this beautiful form . Shall this be mangled with that ghastly knife ? Look on that old man there . Look on his grey hairs . Save her ! save her ! If there is guilt , I am the victim ; let it fall on me . " His words swept over the people like the breeze over the rolling corn . Aratus saw it , and rose up from the ground , and ran passionately among
them , calling them by their names , and adjuring them with frenzied eagerness to have mercy on his age . " Cruel Phaon I" said Lycoris , as he caught her in his arms y" jrpu * ill send me away to die by my own hands .. My spirit will wander by the dart river , and I shall never see you more . " ; The crowd was heaving like the sea before a coming storm .. The priests looked anxiously at one another . They were few and unarmed , -except with
the instruments of the sacrifice , and it seemed to be trembling in the balance whether , in the strength of the human appeal , the gods and their bloody rites would not be violated and defied . The mass of the people still hung back , hesitating and uncertain , but Aratus , with a few of the boldest of them , was approaching the victims , when the high priest , who had stood motionless through it all with his eyes fixed upon the sky , started suddenly and , waving his hand , in a voice which made the fiercest warrior
shrink" Madmen , " he cried , " two victims so few , then , that ye will have Tartarus split before our feet , and swallow down a myriad . Back , back , there is a sign from the gods . Mark it . " He pointed upwards , and an eagle was seen soaring in from the sea , and hovering over them . He had caught the moment and the feeling . He himself , they all , the crowd , the wretched father , Phaon himself believed that the gods were speaking , and every eye was fixed upon the bird , as in silent awe they waited
for the celestial messenger to deliver the command of Heaven . For several minutes it swept screaming round over them , and then , with wings set and motionless , swooped down upon a neighbouring grove . A wood dove was sitting on a brood there . Its mate was cooing among the branches of the same tree . The eagle struck the male bird , and was rising with it when he saw the other , which , frightened from its nest yet unwilling to leave it , fluttered out upon a bough . Turning again , he struck her too , and then rose swiftly up -and soared away , bearing his two victims in his talons .
No inspired prophet was needed to interpret so clear a sign . It was enough . The gods had spoken , and their awful message fell down over the troubled spirit of the people and stilled them into calm . Phaon set His beautiful burden on the ground , and bowed his head in resignation . The sacrifice must be completed . - " Thefather is calling his children . He will have them both , his beautiful ones ; he bids us send them , " cried the high priest . " Bless him on your knees , ye foolish people . For your madness he multiplies his mercies . When ye murmur against him he but accepts a second offering ; he will wash you doubly clean . " ' . -
The slaves of Aratus bore him away . He might go now and lay his head in the dust with old Glaucus . He might not look on what was coming . In a burst of tenderness and love Phaon threw himself on the neck of Lycoris . There was no fear now lest she might lose him . " Traitor , " she said , in playful reproach , " you would have stolen from me and left me . The gods are more merciful than you . They have given you to me . They have chosen me . They call us to our glorious bridal . " " May they accept us , " muttered Phaon . " May they ! Ah ! they do . They have accepted us , " she cried . "The sun is over the mountains , and we linger . Let us make haste to our deliverance . Come , Phaon ! come . Let us take our last leave , of our ol 4
companions . " " Farewell dear friends , " they sang together . " Farewell—weep not for us . The flowers are sweet upon Hymettus , but the spirits of the flowers blow pure where we are going , and the Asphodel of Elysium is watered by the streams of immortality . The heroes are there , and the wise and the beautiful of the old times ; and there we are going . The gods call us ; we are their favoured children . Farewell , ye gallant youths . Listen to the song of the bard . Let your hearts thrill at his words , and grow strong in you for
noble deeds . The gods love the brave , and blessed are those who die for their country . A little while and ye too must pass the dark gate which we are passing . We will pray for you , that you may be given to us and come and make your home with us for ever . " " The priest is waiting with the garlands . Come , Phaon ! " cried Lycoris , " come , our bower is twined for us by the still flowing river , of flowers which never fade , and the chariot which shall bear us there is waiting in the sunlight . The young doves are yoked to it . They grow impatient . I hear the rustling of their golden wings . We pass away through a blessed death to life where death shall come no more . "
Anrl they went , those beautiful ones . Went where the spirits go of the noble and the brave . Spirits like theirs are the bright jewels which make earth shine before Heaven ; and to earth they left a blessing , not that , perhaps , of which they were dreaming , but yet a blessing . Surely it has been by the noble deaths of such as these that in the slow rolling age men have won their freedom . We were held prisoners by the powers of cloudy
ignprance and fear , through which the splendour of God glared red , and sullen , and terrible . But in the life blood of the noble they have melted oft and passed away , and we , who are but common men , and might have been even as that miserable multitude , may lift our eyes without fear and see the beneficence of that blessed light in the glory of mercy and of love . The spectres vanish away , the air is clear , and we are free . Oh ! may we rightly prize the freedom which has been bought at so terrible a coat .
Untitled Article
Aug . 31 , 1850 . ] ©!) * & * a * r ** . 549
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Citation
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Leader (1850-1860), Aug. 31, 1850, page 549, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1851/page/21/
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