presence, not only because he walks with his head among the stars, but because he carries in his heart a blessing for every little child."
These words, though spoken almost in a whisper, reached the ear of the philosopher himself; and he turned toward the lovely speaker with a beaming glance, which distinctly told that his choicest blessings were bestowed upon spirits pure and gentle as her own.
Thus conversing, the guests passed between the marble columns, and entered that part of the room where the banquet was prepared. Aspasia filled a golden basket with Athenian olives, Phœnician dates, and almonds of Naxos, and whispering a brief invocation, placed it on a small altar, before an ivory image of Demeter, which stood in the midst of the table. Seats covered with crimson cloth were arranged at the end of the couches, for the accommodation of women; but the men reclined in Asiatic fashion, while beautiful damsels sprinkled perfumes on their heads, and offered water for their hands in vases of silver.
In choosing one to preside over the festivities of the evening, the lot fell upon Tithonus; but he gracefully declined the office, saying it properly belonged to an Athenian.
"Then I must insist that you appoint your successor," said Aspasia.
"Your command partakes little of the democracy of Athenian institutions," answered he, smiling; "but I obey it cheerfully; and will, as most fitting, crown the wisest." He arose, as he spoke, and reverently 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 the young man prevented him, and exclaimed, "Nay—according to your own doctrines, O admirable Plato, wisdom should wear the crown; since beauty is but its outward form."
Thus urged, Plato accepted the honours of the banquet; and taking a handful of garlands from the golden urn on which they were suspended, he proceeded to crown the guests. He first placed upon Aspasia's head a wreath of bright and variegated flowers, among which the rose and the myrtle were most conspicuous. Upon Hipparete he bestowed a coronal of violets, 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 that wreath, above all the others, was woven for the grand-daughter of Anaxagoras?"
"When I hear a note of music, can I not at once strike its chord?" answered the philosopher: "Even as surely is there an everlasting harmony between the soul of man and the visible forms of creation. If there were no innocent hearts, there would be no white lilies."
A shadow passed over Aspasia's expressive countenance; for she was aware that her own brilliant wreath contained not one purely white blossom. But her features had been well-trained to conceal her sentiments; and her usual vivacity instantly returned.
The remainder of the garlands were bestowed so rapidly, that there seemed scarcely time for deliberate choice; yet Pericles wore the oak leaves sacred to Zeus; and the laurel and olive of Phœbus rested on the brow of Phidias.
A half mischievous smile played round Aspasia's lips, when she saw the wreath of ivy and grape leaves placed on the head of Alcibiades. "Son of Aristo," she exclaimed, "the Phœnician Magii have given you good skill in divination. You have bestowed every garland appropriately."
"It needed little magic," replied Plato, "to know that the oaken leaves belonged to one whose eloquence is so often called Olympian; or that the laurel was due to him who fashioned Pallas Parthenia; and Alcibiades would no doubt contend boldly with any man who professed to worship the god of vineyards with more zeal than himself."
The gay Athenian answered this challenge by singing part of an Anacreontic 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, that Tithonus exclaimed, "You err, O Plato, in saying the tuneful soul of Marsyas has passed into the nightingale; for surely it remains with this young Athenian. Son of Clinias, you must be well skilled in playing upon the flute the divine airs of Mysian Olympus?"
"Not I, so help me Dionysus!" lisped Alcibiades. "My music master will tell you that I ever went to my pipes reluctantly. I make ten sacrifices to equestrian Poseidon, where I offer one gift to the Parnassian chorus."
"Stranger, thou hast not yet learned the fashions of Athens," said Anaxagoras, gravely. "Our young equestrians now busy themselves with carved chariots, and Persian mantles of the newest mode. They vie with each other in costly wines; train doves to shower luxuriant perfumes from their wings; and upon the issue of a contest between fighting quails, they stake sums large enough to endow a princess. To play upon the silver-voiced flute is Theban-like and vulgar. They leave that to their slaves."
"And why not leave laughter to the slaves?" asked Hermippus; "since anything more than a graceful smile distorts the beauty of the features? I suppose bright eyes would weep in Athens, should the cheeks of Alcibiades 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 Hera and Aphrodite laughed at her distorted countenance while she played upon it. 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, ironical tone: "O Ethiopian stranger, it is evident you know little of Athens; or you would have perceived that a belief in the gods is more vulgar than flute-playing. Such trash is deemed fit for the imbecility of the aged, and the ignorance of the populace. With equestrians and philosophers, it is out of date. You must seek for it among those who sell fish at the gates; or with the sailors at Piræus and Phalerum."
"I have visited the Temple of Poseidon, in the Piræus," observed Aspasia; "and I saw there a multitude of offerings from those who had escaped shipwreck." She paused slightly, and added, with a significant smile, "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 the garland wherewith his cup was crowned; and though the action was so slight as to pass unobserved by others, she instantly understood the caution he intended to convey by that emblem sacred to the god of silence.
At a signal from Plato, slaves filled the goblets with wine, and he rose to propose the usual libation to the gods. Every Grecian guest joined in the 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 continued for some moments after it had ceased.
For a short time, the conversation was confined to the courtesies of the table, as the guests partook of the delicious viands before them. Plato ate olives and bread only; and the water he drank was scarcely tinged with Lesbian wine. Alcibiades rallied him upon this abstemiousness; and Pericles reminded him that even his great pattern, Socrates, gave Dionysus his dues, while he worshipped the heaven-born Pallas.
The philosopher quietly replied, "I can worship the fiery God of Vintage only when married with Nymphs of the Fountain."
"But tell me, O Anaxagoras and Plato," exclaimed Tithonus, "if, as Hermippus hath said, the Grecian philosophers discard the theology of the poets? Do ye not believe in the Gods?"
Plato