.
Here the Greek penteconters with their sails and rigging of purple and
black. Here the Cypriotes had sailed under the lee of the islands Byron
loved and where Sappho sang her songs like wine and honey, sharp wine
and golden honey. Here had the Roman galleys splashed and here the great
Venetian boats set proud sail against the Genoese. Here had the
Lion-heart sailed gallantly to Palestine. Here had Icarus fallen in the
blue sea. Here had Paul been shipwrecked, sailing on a ship of
Andramyttium bound to the coast of Asia, crossing the sea which is off
Cilicia and Pamphylia, and trans-shipping at Myra. How modern it all
sounded but for the strange antique names.

"And when we had sailed slowly many days"--only a seaman could feel the
pathos of that--"and scarce were come over against Cnidus, the wind not
suffering us, we sailed under Crete, over against Salmone;

"And, hardly passing it, came unto a place which is called The Fair
Havens--"

Was Paul a sailor, too, Campbell often wondered? The bearded Hebrew,
like a firebrand, possibly epileptic, not quite sane, had he at one time
been brought up to the sea? "Sirs," he had said, "I perceive that this
voyage will be with hurt and much damage, not only of the lading and
ship, but also of our lives." There spoke a man who knew the sea--not a
timid passenger. But the master of the ship thought otherwise and yet
Paul was right. And then came "a tempestuous wind, called Euroclydon."
And that was the Levanter of to-day, Euraquilo, they call it--hell let
loose. Then came furious seas, and the terrors of a lee shore; the
frapping of the ship and the casting overboard of tackle, the
jettisoning of freight--

"And when neither sun nor stars in many days appeared, and no small
tempest lay on us, all hope that we should be saved was then taken
away." Somehow the absolute fidelity of the sea-life of the story went
to Campbell's heart, and the figure of Paul the mariner was clearer than
the figure of Paul the Apostle.

"Howbeit, we must be cast upon a certain island.

"But when the fourteenth night was come, as we were driven up and down
in Adria, about midnight the shipmen deemed that they drew near to some
country--"

The intuition of seamanship. The flash. How modern! Oh, Paul lived in
that sea. His ghost and memory were forever there, as were the ghosts of
the Lion-heart; and of Sappho, singer of songs; and of the stout
Phenician sailing men; and of the doges of Venice, lov