MOH fim* 8U* #1M V.! c ^H i. S. G. & E. L. ELBERT ^>c-» f i m IJlT^tulti bv J5LI*A SMIggJ&BgRg, *88 XV KATHARIIOUB^ COMAKT -««.. /" ; PHIL0THEA: 21 ©redan Romance. BY L. MARIA CHILD. AUTHOR OF LETTERS FROM NEW YORK, FLOWERS FOR CHILDREN, ETC. The intelligible forms of ancient poets, Tiie fair humanities of old religion, The Power, the Beauty, and tne Majesty, That had their haunts in dale or piny mountain. Or forest by slow stream, or peDUiy spring, Or chasms and wat'ry 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. NEW YORK: S. FRANCIS & CO., 252 BROADWAY. boston: J. H. FRANCIS, 128 WASHINGTON STREET 1845. Entered accm-diiif to Act of Congress, in the year 134^. by C. S. FRANCIS &, CO. In the Clerk's Office nf the District Court for the Southern District o<" New-York. printed by Mtjnrob & Francis, Bos t o n. MY BELOVED BROTHER, JBv. JFrancts, OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY, To whose Early Influence I owe my Love of Literature, THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries http://archive.org/details/philotheagrecianOOchil PREFACE. volume is purely romance and most read- This ; ers will consider it romance of the wildest kind. A few kindred spirits, prone to people space "with life and mystical predominance," will perceive a light within the Grecian Temple. For such I have written it. To minds of differ- ent mould, who may think an apology necessary for what they will deem so utterly useless, I have nothing better to offer than the simple fact that I found delight in doing it. ; ; ; PHILOTHEA. CHAPTER I. Here let us seek Athense'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 relief against the clear blue sky ; the crest and spear of Pallas Promachos glittered in the reful- gent atmosphere, a beacon to the distant mariner the line of brazen tripods, leading from the Theatre of Dionysus, glowed like urns of fire and the waters ; of the Illyssus glanced right joyfully, as they moved onward to the ocean. The earth was like a slumber- ing babe, smiling in its sleep, because it dreams of Heaven. : 10 PHILOTHEA. In the most ancient and quiet part of the city, not far from the gate Diocharis, was the modest mansion of Anaxagoras ; and at this tranquil hour, the grand- daughter of the philosopher, with her beloved com- panion Eudora, stood on the roof, enjoying the radiant landscape, and the balmy air. Philothea's tall figure was a lovely union of ma- jesty and grace. The golden hair, which she inher- ited from a Laconian mother, was tastefully arranged on the top of her head, in a braided crown, over the sides of which the bright curls fell, like tendrils of grapes from the edge of a basket. The mild brilli- ancy of her large dark eyes formed a beautiful con- trast to a complexion fair even to transparency. Her expression had the innocence of infancy ; but it was tinged with something elevated and holy, which made it seem like infancy in Heaven. Eudora had more sparkling eyes, lips more richly coloured, and a form more slender and flexile. Her complexion might have seemed dark, had it not been relieved by a profusion of glossy black hair, a por- tion of which was fastened with a silver arrow, while the remainder shaded her forehead, 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 unlike each other, but both excellent in beauty. One might have been a model for the seraphs of Christian faith, the other an Olympian deity. For a few moments, Philothea stood in earnest si- lence, gazing upon the bright planet of evening — then, in a tone of deep enthusiasm, she exclaimed PHILOTHEA. 11 "It is a night to feel the presence of the gods ! Vir- gin sister of Phoebus, how calm thou art in thy glorious beauty ! Thou art filling the world with music — silent to the ear, but audible to the heart! Phidias has embodied the unbreathing harmony in stone, and we worship the fair proportions, as an emanation from the gods. The birds feel it — and wonder at the tune that makes no noise. The whole earth is lulled by its influence. All is motionless; save the Naiades of the stream, moving in wreathed dance to the voiceless melody. See how their shining hair sparkles on the surface of the watefs ! Surely there is music in this light ! Eudora, what is it within us, that listens where there is no sound? Is it thus we shall hear in filysium?" 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 still and bright, that it seems as if the gods themselves were listening to our speech." " The same mysterious influence impresses me with awe," replied the contemplative maiden: " In such an hour as this, Plato must have received the 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 and fearful power, when the radiant daughter of Zeus is looking down upon us in all her heavenly majesty. Even the midnight procession of the Panathensea affected me less deeply." . After a few moments of serious silence, she con- " ; 12 PHILOTHEA. tinued: "I saw it last night, for the first time since my childhood; for you know I was very ill when the festival was last celebrated. It was truly a beautiful and majestic scene ! The virgins all clothed in white ; the heifers decorated with garlands ; the venerable old men bearing branches of olive ; the glittering chariots ; the noble white horses, obeying the curb with such proud impatience ; the consecrated image of Pallas carried aloft on its bed of flowers the sacred ship blazing with gems and gold; all moving in the light of a thousand torches ! Then the music, -so loud and harmonious ! It seemed as if all Athens joined in the mighty sound. I distin- guished you in the procession; and I almost envied you the privilege of embroidering the sacred peplus, and being six long months in the service of Pallas Athenae. I have had so much to say since you re- turned, and Phidias has so many guests, that I have found little time to ask concerning the magnificent sights you saw within the Acropolis." " The night would wear away, ere I could de- scribe all I witnessed within the walls of the Parthe- non alone," rejoined her companion: "There is the silver-footed throne, on which Xerxes sat, while he watched the battle of Salamis ; the scimitar of Mar- donius, captured at Plataeae ; a beautiful ivory Perse- phone, on a pedestal of pure gold ; and a Methym- nean lyre, said to have belonged to Terpander him- self, who you know was the first that used seven strings. Victorious wreaths, coins, rings, and goblets gold, there without number and Per- of shining are ; sian couches, and Egyptian sphynxes, and — "What do you find so interesting beyond the ; PHILOTHEA. 13 walls?" asked Eudora, smiling at the earnestness " with which her friend 'gazed in the distance : Do the slaves, bringing water from the Fountain of Cal- lirhoe, look so very beautiful in the moonlight?" u I marvel that you can speak so lightly," replied Philothea : "We have as yet heard no tidings con- cerning the decision in the Court of Cynosarges, on which the fate of Philsemon depends ; and you know how severely his high spirit will suffer, if an unfa- vourable sentence is awarded. Neither of us have alluded to this painful topic. But why have we thus lingered on the house-top, if it were not to watch for the group which, if I mistake not, are now approach- ing, on their return from Cynosarges?" " Then it is for Philsemon's sake, that you have so long been looking wistfully toward the Ulyssus?" said Eudora, playfully. "I will not deny that Paralus has had the largest share of my thoughts," replied the simple-hearted " maiden ; but for Philsemon, as your betrothed lover, and the favourite pupil of my grandfather, I feel an interest strong enough to keep me on the watch ^during a less delightful evening than this. I think it must be Paralus who walks in the centre of the group ; we have been separated many months and courtesy to the numerous strangers under his father's roof has prevented our having much dis- course to-day.