Of the sailors, upon whose energy, skill, and courage, the success of every voyage necessarily depended, ancient writers have been more than usually scanty in their communications. We know, however, that the mariners as well on board the merchantmen of Athens as those of the other states of Greece, were partly citizens, partly strangers, and in many instances slaves. Leading a life full of hardship and danger, engaged as it were in a perpetual conflict with the elements, their tempers grew fierce, their manners boisterous and rude,[1708] and their morals none of the most elevated. During the intervals they spent on shore, they endeavoured by snatching at all the coarse pleasures within their reach, to make themselves some amends for their habitual privations. The excuse, however, for this conduct was often sophistically borrowed from religion, for during the prevalence of storms at sea, it was customary to make vows to Poseidon, or Castor and Polydeukes, or some of the other patrons of the nautical art; and on reaching port the victims were slain and offered up, and the sacrifice of necessity was accompanied by a feast. To these their boon companions, dancing-girls, female flute-players, hetairæ, jugglers, and low parasites, were invited, and the whole usually terminated in excessive intoxication and a battle royal. Most mariners were attached to some dame of equivocal reputation in the Peiræeus or elsewhere, to whom on their return from voyages they were in the habit of bringing presents, such as a pair of gilded slippers, a dainty cheese, a jar of pickles, or saltfish, or a measure or two of onions. What was the amount of wages, which enabled them to indulge in this kind of liberality, I have nowhere been able to discover, though in all probability it was at least equal to the pay received by seamen in the war-galleys, that is from three to four oboloi a-day. Their operations while on board, were regulated of course by circumstances and the accidents of the weather. Thus, when the breeze was strong and favourable, they might lounge or sit about the decks, or sleep, during the greater part of the twenty-four hours, without shifting a sail or handling an oar, though a man was always stationed at the prow to keep a sharp look-out, and watch the aspect of the sky.[1709] In calms, however, or when the swell and roar of the sea foretold an approaching tempest, the whole crew took to their cushions, and raising at the command of the boatswain,[1710] a loud chant,[1711] which contended in volume with the angry voice of the ocean, they strained every nerve to augment the velocity of their bark, and gain some friendly port before the storm fairly set in. Occasionally, however, they were overtaken by tempests in the neighbourhood of rocky islands or bleak and inhospitable promontories like the Chelidonian rocks, where from whatever point of the compass the wind might blow a heavy surge beat upon the shore perpetually. Under these circumstances