The essential point in rope dancing is the maintenance of the centre of gravity. In order to keep erect and steady on the rope the ancient tumblers always carried a pole, furnished with a ball of lead at each extremity, and this balancer they directed sometimes to the right, sometimes to the left, according as they wished to change the position of their centre of gravity. But the new school have long since been able to dispense with the use of this safeguard, and performers now climb to the greatest heights, their arms free and unembarassed by any burden. Some content themselves with fixing the eyes upon a distant point in the same plane as the rope, and for the rest trust themselves to Providence and to their suppleness, and the strength of the aërial thread that sustains them in space.

The same confidence animates the young Spaniards, who, on certain fête days, mount into the clock towers of the cathedral, and ring a full peal. While the regular bellringers are reposing, these amateurs hang on to the bells, throw them forward with all their force, and follow them in their wonderful leaps. In our churches they sound the bells calmly and regularly; but in Spain every man who offers may exercise his skill; and the duration of the ringing depends upon the caprice, or rather upon the strength and patience of the ringers. The reader may imagine what an uproar there is when all the bells of a cathedral are being banged about in this original and furious manner. If one enters, for instance, the Giralda at Seville, when the twenty bells are swinging at the same time, the noise is enough to give one a headache. The spectacle, too, of grasping the bell with

the ringers hanging in space, and their arms, is a very singular one. "The first time that I was witness of this operation," says a French tourist,

"I was passing near the church El Salvador del Mundo; people were looking up in the air, and one old man cried aloud near me, 'Those are not men, they are devils.' This caused me to look up like the others, and I believed at first that some unfortunate man had entangled himself in the rope that is used for putting the bell in motion. I soon found out, however, that it was a matter of sport. ringer appeared in his turn, suspended in the air, or 1 olding the bell by the ears, or by the wooden framework, and, following it in its movement, found himself with his head downwards towards the square, when it again entered the belfry."

Another

The inhabitants of Tahiti take pleasure in suspending and balancing themselves on a long rope attached to the top of some palm-tree that overhangs the sea. They are primitive beings, accustomed to climbing to great heights, and if while indulging in this amusement they have a fall, they only find themselves in their favourite element. They are as much accustomed to water as to dry land, and move with as much freedom and rapidity in the one as in the other.

CHAPTER IX.

SWIMMING.

Swimming in Ancient Times - Hero and Leander - Crossing the Hellespont-Lord Byron achieves the Feat-His Powers as a Swimmer His Great Feat at Venice - Importance of the Art among the Ancients-Roman Women-Aquatic PantomimesFlavius Josephus.

A SWIMMER is simply a runner who, so to speak, has changed his ground, and between the two exercises there is only a difference of the elements. Aristotle considers them as two members of a family, or rather as one and the same exercise, demanding great nervous and muscular power and flexibility.

Formerly, as indeed at all times, the best swimmers were the inhabitants of sea-coasts and islands, or peoples accustomed to traverse the ocean for the purposes of commerce. The Phoenicians and the Carthaginians were very expert in the art, which was held in high esteem by all ancient nations. The Persians were the only exceptions to the general rule, for, as they rendered an idolatrous worship to their rivers, they did not dare to plunge their hands, much less their whole bodies, into them. Among the Greeks, the Athenians, and especially the inhabitants of the isle of Delos, were considered the best swimmers. The skill of the latter has passed into a proverb. Socrates, not being able to explain certain passages in Heraclitus the philosopher which seemed to be obscure and conflicting,

exclaims, "To find one's way amid so many reefs would puzzle even a swimmer of the Isle of Delos.”

Leander could not boast of the famous island as the place of his birth, but he was none the less a great swimmer. He was smitten, as every one knows, by the charms of a young and beautiful priestess named Hero, who lived at Sestos, upon the Hellespont, on the European shore, while he himself dwelt at Abydos, on the opposite or Asiatic coast. Guided by a beacon-light which the young priestess was careful to kindle on the summit of her tower, Leander swam the Hellespont every even

Hero and Leander.
(From a medal.)

ing, spent some time with his beloved, and returned again in the same manner. When the wind blew with too much violence, Hero sheltered the flickering light with her robe, for she knew Leander felt no fear so long as that flame invited him onwards. But on one fatal night she had forgotten this precaution, and perhaps had altogether neglected to kindle her fire. She was cruelly punished, for on the following morning, at day-break, she saw gleaming upon the shore the white limbs of Leander, whose dead body had been cast up by the waves upon the beach. The ill-fated youth, losing sight of the beacon on the tower, and unable to contend against the darkness and the currents, had yielded up his latest breath to the waves. In her horror and despair, Hero threw herself into the sea, inviting the fate to which her lover had succumbed.

It is somewhat curious to speculate why Leander, instead of swimming the Hellespont, did not simply paddle across

in a boat. This mode of transit would certainly not have been so cheap, but it would have been much less dangerous and fatiguing. It may be said in answer that perhaps the youth was anxious not to attract attention to his nightly passage, and thereby publish his amour with the fair lady to the world. But however this may be, it is sufficient, upon the authority of Ovid and Musæus, to state that it was Leander's practice to swim to and from the opposite bank where Hero lived, and as the narratives of poets and romancers need not of necessity be received as articles of faith, each may decide as he pleases upon the details of the fine old story.

The important point is not to know whether Leander really crossed the Hellespont by swimming, but whether others have been able to do so-whether, in fact, the feat is practicable. The distance from Abydos to Sestos was thirty stades, or three miles six furlongs. That Leander swam so far twice a night it is difficult to believe, and in view of these figures, many have at once relegated the touching tale to the domain of fable. Others, however, attempt to prove that it is not a fiction, and, according to them, as it was only natural that Leander should seek to shorten his journey as much as possible, he walked along the sea-shore till he came straight opposite the tower in which Hero lived. By good luck the width of the Hellespont is much diminished at this point, being only seven stades, or about 1,300 yards. But none of the critics who calmly discussed by their firesides the probable authenticity of this adventure showed an inclination to find out whether it was possible to swim the Hellespont by attempting to repeat the feat of Leander. This was, however, the best means of removing all doubt as to the story, and setting to