FLOWERS OF HISTORY. 459 



reviving the traditions of the first, and with them 

 violets. 



Farewell to thee, France ! but when Liberty rallies 

 Once more in thy regions, remember me then — 



The violet still grows in the depths of thy vallies, 

 Though withered thy tears will unfold it again. 



(Byron.) 



The pseudo-historical Lotophagi, or Lotos-eaters, 

 when stripped of the romance which enveloped 

 them, became resolved into very matter-of-fact vege- 

 tarians, living on the jujube. According to Homer 

 they were 



A hospitable race ; 



Not prone to ill, nor strange to foreign guest, 



They eat, they drink, and Nature gives the feast ; 



The trees around-them all their fruit produce ; 



Lotos the name ; divine nectareous juice ! 



(Thence called Lotophagi) which whoso tastes, 



Insatiate riots in the sweet repasts, 



Nor other home, nor other care intends, 



But quits his house, his country, and his friends. 



By comparison of the ancient authors who have 

 mentioned the subject, we find that the Lotos was a 

 sweet pulpy fruit of variable size, but not larger than 

 an olive, with a hard stone (and a stoneless variety 

 from which wine was made). There is no allusion 

 whatever to any peculiar effects resulting from the 

 eating of this fruit of the kind indicated by Homer, 

 so that this portion of the story may be eliminated 

 as poetical. Nor is there any foundation for the 



