language of the poet's manhood. The "tyrant" with him is the offspring of the wanton recklessness of self-willed pride, certain, after a short career of triumph, to have a terrible downfall.[1] Much more important in its bearing on the history of the poet's boyhood was the first great event of which he could have had any remembrance. When he was yet barely five years old, the sudden invasion of Datis and Artaphernes roused the whole population of Attica to the fever-heat of excitement. The victory of Marathon made all men's hearts burn within them. To have been one of those that had fought on that field made a man conspicuous all his life long. To have seen and known one was a boy's highest pride. Such was the beginning of the poet's life. Many long lives have witnessed changes greater in their extent, but it may be questioned whether any includes more striking contrasts than that of one who remembered the battle of Marathon, and lived to see that of Arginusæ—who saw Athens triumphant over Persia, and humbled to the dust by the failure of the Sicilian expedition—who lived through the rise, the glory, the decline of the Athenian commonwealth.
III.
B.C. 490–480.
The ten years that lie between the ages of five and
