CHAP. V the oaks had taken to walkins; on their heads.^ But when he charsres chap.
the child wth the theft, the defence is grounded on his tender age. Can the breeze of a day old, breathing as softly as a babe new born, be guilty of so much mischief? Its proper home is the summer land ; ^ why should it stride wantonly over bleak hills and bare heaths ? But, with an instinct singularly true, Hermes is represented as closing his defence mth a long whistle,' which sounds very much like mockery and tends perhaps to heighten the scepticism of Apolloa The latter seizes the child, who with a loud blast makes him suddenly let go, and then appeals against his unkind treatment to his father (the sky).* Zeus refuses to accept his plea of infancy ; but when Hermes brings back the cows, the suspicions of Apollon are again roused, and, dreading his angry looks, the child strikes his tortoise-lyre and wakens sounds so soft and tender ^ that the hardest-hearted man cannot choose but listen. Never on the heights of Olympos, where winds perhaps blow strong as they commonly do on mountain summits, had Phoibos heard a strain so soothing.^ Like the pleasant murmur of a breeze in the palm-groves of the south, it filled his heart with a strange yearn- ing,' carr}ang him back to the days when the world was young and all the bright gods kept holiday, and he longed for the glorious gift of music® which made the life of Hermes a joy on the earth. His prayer is at once granted. The wind grudges not his music to the sun j he seeks only to know the secrets which his own eyes cannot pene- trate,® for Phoibos sits in the high heaven by the side of Zeus, knowing the inmost mind of his father, and his keen glance can pierce the depths of the green sea. This wisdom the sun may not impart. The wind may not vex the pure ether or break in upon the eternal repose of the ocean depths. Still there are other honours in store for him, many and great. He shall be the guardian of the bright clouds ; his song shall cheer the sons of men and lessen the sum of human suffer- ing ; his breath shall waft the dead to the world unseen, and when he wills he may get wisdom by holding converse with the hoary sisters far down the cliffs of Parnassos, as the wind may be heard myste- riously whispering in hidden glens and unfathomable caves. The compact is ratified by the oath that the wind shall do no hurt to the home of the sun, who declares in his turn that he loves nothing so well as the fresh breeze of heaven.^" True to the last to the spirit of the myth, the poet adds that his friendship for man is not equal to his
^ Hymn to Hermes, 349. ^ //'. 422. • II?. 457,
- //'. 267-8. » Jb. 280. » //>. 472, 532.
♦ 10. 312. «» Jb. 525. » /<J. 419. • 3. 445, 450.
