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dred ships, to help them in their war against the Æginetans. It was the breaking out of the Eginetan war which was at this time the saving of Greece, for hereby were the Athenians forced to become a maritime power. The new ships were not used for the purpose for which they had been built, but became a help to Greece in her hour of need. And the Athenians had not only these vessels ready before the war, but they likewise set to work to build more; while they determined, in a council which was held after the debate upon the oracle, that according to the advice of the god they would embark their whole force aboard their ships, and with such Greeks as chose to join them, give battle to the barbarian invader. Such, then, were the oracles which had been received by the Athenians.

"LOPPING THE TALL EARS."

THIS prince [Periander] at the beginning of his reign was of a milder temper than his father; but after he corresponded by means of messengers with Thrasybulus, tyrant of Miletus, he became even more sanguinary. On one occasion he sent a herald to ask Thrasybulus what mode of government it was safest to set up in order to rule with honor. Thrasybulus led the messenger without the city, and took him into a field of corn, through which he began to walk, while he asked him again and again concerning his coming from Corinth, ever as he went breaking off and throwing away all such ears of corn as overtopped the rest. In this way he went through the whole fields and destroyed all the best and richest part of the crop; then, without a word, he sent the messenger back. On the return of the man to Corinth, Periander was eager to know what Thrasybulus had counselled, but the messenger reported that he had said nothing; and he wondered that Periander had sent him to so strange a man, who seemed to have lost his senses, since he did nothing but destroy his own property. And upon this he told how Thrasybulus had behaved at the interview. Periander, perceiving what the action meant, and knowing that Thrasybulus advised the destruction of the leading citizens, treated his subjects from this time forward with the very greatest cruelty. Where Cypselus had spared any, and had neither put them to death nor banished them, Periander completed what his father had left unfinished.

CLOSE OF THE HISTORY.

A WISE ANSWER OF CYRUS THE GREAT IS RECALLED IN THE HOUR OF PERSIAN HUMILIATION.

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It was the grandfather of this Artayctes, one Artembares by name, who suggested to the Persians a proposal which they readily embraced, and thus urged upon Cyrus:-"Since Jove," they said, "has overthrown Astyages and given the rule to the Persians, and to thee chiefly, O Cyrus, come now, let us quit this land wherein we dwell; for it is a scant land and a rugged, and let us choose ourselves some other better country. Many such lie around us, some nearer, some further off: if we take one of these, men will admire us far more than they do now. Who that had the power would not so act? And when shall we have a fairer time than now, when we are lords of so many nations, and rule all Asia?"

Then Cyrus, who did not greatly esteem the counsel, told them they might do so if they liked; but he warned them not to expect in that case to continue rulers, but to prepare for being ruled by others. "Soft countries gave birth to soft men. There was no region which produced very delightful fruits and at the same time men of a warlike spirit." So the Persians departed with altered minds, confessing that Cyrus was wiser than they; and chose rather to dwell in a churlish land and exercise lordship, than to cultivate plains and be the slaves of others.

ROBERT HERRICK.

HERRICK, ROBERT, an English clergyman and poet; born in London August 24, 1591; died at Dean Prior, Devonshire, in October, 1674. He studied at Cambridge, and after leaving the university led a jovial life in London for several years. Among his associates was Ben Jonson. At the age of thirty-six Herrick took Holy Orders, and was in 1629 presented by Charles I. to the vicarage of Dean Prior, in Devonshire. Here he wrote numerous poems, not altogether of a clerical character, but containing many clever descriptions of rural customs and manners. In 1647 he published the "Noble Numbers," and the "Hesperides, or Works Human and Divine." His volume had hardly been published when Herrick was ejected from his living by the "Long Parliament." He repaired to London, where he lived for ten or twelve years. Upon the restoration of Charles II., in 1660, Herrick was reinstated in his vicarage. He was now close upon threescore and ten, well wearied of a life which had been no wise saintly, though apparently not marked by any great excesses. His poems include not a few of the daintiest fancies in the English language.

A THANKSGIVING.

LORD, thou hast given me a cell
Wherein to dwell;

A little house, whose humble roof
Is weather-proof;

Under the spars of which I lie
Both soft and dry.

Where thou, my chamber for to ward,
Hast set a guard

Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep
Me while I sleep.

Low is my porch, as is my fate,
Both void of state;

And yet the threshold of my door
Is worn by the poor,

Who hither come, and freely get
Good words or meat.

Like as my parlor, so my hall,
And kitchen small;

A little buttery, and therein
A little bin,

Which keeps my little loaf of bread
Unchipt, unflead.

Some brittle sticks of thorn or brier
Make me a fire,

Close by whose living coal I sit,
And glow like it.

Lord, I confess, too, when I dine,
The pulse is thine,

And all those other bits that be

There placed by thee:

The worts, the purslane, and the mess
Of water-cress,

Which of thy kindness thou hast sent;
And my content

Makes those, and my belovèd beet,

To be more sweet.

"T is thou that crown'st my glittering hearth With guiltless mirth;

And giv'st me wassail bowls to drink,
Spiced to the brink.

Lord, 't is thy plenty-dropping hand
That sows my land; . . .
All these, and better, dost thou send
Me for this end:

That I should render for my part
A thankful heart,

Which, fired with incense, I resign
As wholly thine;

But the acceptance — that must be
O Lord, by thee.

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Is it to fast an hour,
Or ragged to go,
Or show

A downcast look and sour?

No! 'Tis a fast to dole

Thy sheaf of wheat,
And meat,

Unto the hungry soul.

It is to fast from strife,
From old debate

And hate;

To circumcise thy life.

To show a heart grief-rent;
To starve thy sin,
Not bin,-

And that's to keep thy Lent.

TO FIND GOD.

WEIGH me the fire: or canst thou find
A way to measure out the wind;
Distinguish all those floods that are
Mixt in the watery theatre;

And taste thou them as saltless there
As in their channel first they were;
Tell me the people that do keep
Within the kingdoms of the deep;
Or fetch me back that cloud again,
Beshivered into seeds of rain;
Tell me the motes, dust, sands, and spears
Of corn, when Summer shakes his ears;
Show me thy world of stars, and whence
They noiseless spill their influence:
This if thou canst: then show me Him
That rides the glorious cherubim.

TO DAFFODILS.

FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon:
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attained his noon.

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