of Menelaus, they sailed with a great army for Troy. The imagination of the poet EURIPIDES describes this armament as follows:

With eager haste The sea-girt Aulis strand I paced, Till to my view appeared the embattled train Of Hellas, armed for mighty enterprise, And galleys of majestic size, To bear the heroes o'er the main; A thousand ships for Ilion steer, And round the two Atridæ's spear The warriors swear fair Helen to regain.

After a siege of ten years Troy was taken by stratagem, and the fair Helen was recovered. On the fanciful etymology of the word Helen, from a Greek verb signifying to take or seize, the poet ÆCHYLUS indulges in the following reflections descriptive of the character and the history of this "spear-wooed maid of Greece:"

Who gave her a name So true to her fame? Does a Providence rule in the fate of a word? Sways there in heaven a viewless power O'er the chance of the tongue in the naming hour? Who gave her a name, This daughter of strife, this daughter of shame, The spear-wooed maid of Greece! Helen the taker! 'tis plain to see, A taker of ships, a taker of men, A taker of cities is she! From the soft-curtained chamber of Hymen she fled, By the breath of giant Zephyr sped, And shield-bearing throngs in marshalled array Hounded her flight o'er the printless way, Where the swift-flashing oar The fair booty bore To swirling Sim'o-is' leafy shore, And stirred the crimson fray. --Trans. by BLACKIE.

According to Homer, the principal Greek heroes engaged in the siege of Troy, aside from Agamemnon, were Menelaus, Achilles, Ulysses, Ajax (the son of Tel'amon), Di'omed, Patro'clus, and Palame'des; while among the bravest of the defenders of Troy were Hector, Sarpe'don, and Æne'as.

The poet's story opens, in the tenth year of the siege, with an account of a contentious scene between two of the Grecian chiefs --Achilles and Agamemnon--which resulted in the withdrawal of Achilles and his forces from the Grecian army. The aid of the gods was invoked in behalf of Achilles, and Jupiter sent a deceitful vision to Agamemnon, seeking to persuade him to lead his forces to battle, in order that the Greeks might realize their need of Achilles. Agamemnon first desired to ascertain the feeling or disposition of the army regarding the expedition it had undertaken, and so proposed a return to Greece, which was unanimously and unexpectedly agreed to, and an advance was made toward the ships. But through the efforts of the valiant and sagacious Ulysses all discontent on the part of the troops was suppressed, and they returned to the plains of Troy.

Among those in the Grecian camp who had complained of their leaders, and of the folly of the expedition itself, was a brawling, turbulent, and tumultuous character named Thersi'tes, whose insolence Ulysses sternly and effectively rebuked. The following sketch of Thersites reads like a picture drawn from modern life; while the merited reproof administered by Ulysses is in the happiest vein of just and patriotic indignation:

Ulysses and Thersites.

Thersites only clamored in the throng, Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of tongue; Awed by no shame, by no respect controlled, In scandal busy, in reproaches bold; With witty malice, studious to defame; Scorn all his joy, and censure all his aim; But chief he gloried, with licentious style, To lash the great, and monarchs to revile.

His figure such as might his soul proclaim: One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame; His mountain shoulders half his breast o'erspread, Thin hairs bestrew'd his long misshapen head; Spleen to mankind his envious heart possessed, And much he hated all--but most, the best. Ulysses or Achilles still his theme; But royal scandal his delight supreme. Long had he lived the scorn of every Greek, Vext when he spoke, yet still they heard him speak: Sharp was his voice; which, in the shrillest tone, Thus with injurious taunts attacked the throne.

Ulysses, in his tent, listens awhile to the complaints, and censures, and scandals against the chiefs, with which Thersites addresses the throng gathered around him, and at length--

With indignation sparkling in his eyes, He views the wretch, and sternly thus replies: "Peace, factious monster, born to vex the state With wrangling talents formed for foul debate, Curb that impetuous tongue, nor, rashly vain, And singly mad, asperse the sovereign reign.

"Have we not known thee, slave! of all our host The man who acts the least, upbraids the most? Think not the Greeks to shameful flight to bring; Nor let those lips profane the name of King. For our return we trust the heavenly powers; Be that their care; to fight like men be ours.

"But grant the host, with wealth our chieftain load; Except detraction, what hast thou bestowed? Suppose some hero should his spoil resign, Art thou that hero? Could those spoils be thine? Gods! let me perish on this hateful shore, And let these eyes behold my son no more, If on thy next offence this hand forbear To strip those arms thou ill deserv'st to wear, Expel the council where our princes meet, And send thee scourged and howling through the fleet." --B. II. POPE'S Trans.

COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARIS.

The opposing armies being ready to engage, a single combat is agreed upon between Menelaus, and Paris son of Priam, for the determination of the war. Paris is soon vanquished, but is rescued from death by Venus; and, according to the terms on which the combat took place, Agamemnon demands the restoration of Helen. But the gods declare that the war shall go on. So the conflict begins, and Diomed, assisted by the goddess Pallas (or Minerva), performs wonders in this day's battle, wounding and putting to flight Pan'darus, Æneas, and the goddess Venus, even wounding the war-god Mars, who had challenged him to combat, and sending him groaning back to heaven.

Hector, the eldest son of Priam King of Troy, and the chief hero of the Trojans, leaves the field for a brief space, to request prayers to Minerva for assistance, and especially for the removal of Diomed from the fight. This done, he seeks a momentary interview with his wife, the fair and virtuous Androm'a-che, whose touching appeal to him, and his reply, are both, perhaps, without a parallel in tender, natural solicitude.

Parting of Hector and Andromache.

"Too daring prince! ah, whither dost thou run? Ah, too forgetful of thy wife and son! And think'st thou not how wretched we shall be, A widow I, a helpless orphan he? For sure such courage length of life denies, And thou must fall, thy virtue's sacrifice. Greece in her single heroes strove in vain; Now hosts oppose thee, and thou must be slain! Oh grant me, gods! ere Hector meets his doom, All I can ask of heaven, an early tomb! So shall my days in one sad tenor run, And end with sorrows as they first begun.

"No parent now remains my griefs to share, No father's aid, no mother's tender care. The fierce Achilles wrapp'd our walls in fire, Laid The'be waste, and slew my warlike sire! By the same arm my seven brave brothers fell; In one sad day beheld the gates of hell. My mother lived to bear the victor's bands, The queen of Hippopla'cia's sylvan lands.

"Yet, while my Hector still survives, I see My father, mother, brethren, all in thee: Alas! my parents, brothers, kindred, all Once more will perish, if my Hector fall. Thy wife, thy infant, in thy danger share: Oh, prove a husband's and a father's care! That quarter most the skilful Greeks annoy, Where yon wild fig-trees join the walls of Troy; Thou from this tower defend the important post; There Agamemnon points his dreadful host, That pass Tydi'des, Ajax, strive to gain, And there the vengeful Spartan fires his train. Thrice our bold foes the fierce attack have given, Or led by hopes, or dictated from heaven. Let others in the field their arms employ, But stay my Hector here, and guard his Troy."

The chief replied: "That post shall be my care, Nor that alone, but all the works of war. How would the sons of Troy, in arms renown'd, And Troy's proud dames, whose garments sweep the ground, Attaint the lustre of my former name, Should Hector basely quit the field of fame! My early youth was bred to martial pains, My soul impels me to the embattled plains: Let me be foremost to defend the throne, And guard my father's glories and my own.

"Yet come it will, the day decreed by fates;