"The contagion made its first attack at Athens in the Piræus, where it was reported that the [hostile] Peloponnesians had thrown poison into the wells; for as yet there were no fountains there. Now if any one had previously laboured under any malady, it merged and terminated in this. Others, without any apparent cause, on a sudden, and when in perfect health, were attacked first with violent heats about the head accompanied by redness and inflammation of the eyes. Then the internal parts, both the gullet and the tongue, immediately assumed a sanguineous hue, and emitted a noisome and fetid odour. Sneezing and hoarseness then supervened, and not long after the malady descended to the breast, bringing with it a violent cough."

The historian proceeds to narrate, that these symptoms were succeeded by others, attended with excessive torment. "So that the patients could not bear the lightest clothing or the finest sheets to be thrown over them; nay, they would gladly have plunged themselves into cold water. Indeed, many of those who were not attended to, did so; precipitating themselves into wells, urged by thirst insatiable; and whether they drank much or little it was the same. A restlessness and wakefulness likewise perpetually oppressed them; and so long as the disorder was at its height the body did not fall away, but resisted the malady beyond all expectation; so that either they died while yet in the possession of some strength; or, if they escaped [that crisis], then the disorder, descending into the bowels, affected them in such a way as that they were afterwards carried off through mere weakness. For the malady commencing at the head, where it first took its post, and from thence descending, pervaded the whole body. And if any survived these greatest dangers, yet the disorder seized on the extremities, and there left its mark; making its attacks, for instance, upon the fingers or upon the toes; and many with the deprivation of these, and some even with that of their eyes, escaped with their lives. Nor were there wanting those, who, on recovering, laboured under an utter forgetfulness of every thing, and knew neither their friends, nor

"For as this was a kind of disorder which baffled all description, nay, even exceeded human nature, in the virulence which it exercised on the sufferers, so in the following respect it evinced itself to be something different from any of the ordinary distempers. For though there were many unburied corpses, those birds and beasts which prey upon human flesh either approached them not, or if they tasted, perished. A proof of which was seen in the total disappearance of all birds of prey, which were found neither about the carcases, nor elsewhere. But the dogs, from their domestic habits, and familiar intercourse with men, afforded a more manifest evidence of the thing.

"And none of the usual maladies made their attacks during the continuance of this disorder; or, if they did, soon terminated in this. The sufferers, moreover, died, some under neglect, others with all the care and attention possible; nor could any one remedy be devised, whose application would be certain to do good: for what benefited one, was prejudicial to another. Moreover, no constitution, whether in respect of strength or weakness, was found able to cope with it; nay, it swept away all alike, even those attended with the most careful management. But the most dreadful part of the calamity was the total dejection of mind which overwhelmed those who felt themselves attacked, (for falling at once into despair, they the more readily gave themselves up, and sunk without a struggle,) and they dropped, filled like diseased sheep with the infection communicated by their attendance on each other. That circumstance, too, occasioned most of the mortality ; for if men forbore, through fear, to visit the sick, they died, forlorn and destitute, from want of attendance, and thus whole families became utterly extinct; and if men ventured to approach, they met their own death. This was especially the fate of those who aimed at any thing like virtue; since they, ashamed of selfish caution, were unsparing of their own lives in attending on their friends; for, at last, even their servants, overcome by the excess of the calamity, were wearied out with the groaning and

had survived the disorder were more compassionate to the dying and the afflicted; both as knowing by experience what the disorder was, and being now themselves in safety. For it never attacked the same person twice; so, at least, as to be mortal. And such persons were felicitated on their escape by others; and they themselves, amidst their present joy, nourished a sort of light hope for the future,—that they should never hereafter be destroyed by any disease [but die of mere old age].

"Besides the present calamity, the reception of the country people into the city had occasioned much annoyance, and especially to the new comers. [These persons had taken shelter within the walls of Athens, to avoid the invading armies which then threatened Attica.] For as they had no houses, but were compelled to lodge during the height of summer, in stifling huts, a horribly confused mortality occurred, insomuch that corpses lay stretched out, one upon another, as they had died; and half-dead corpses were seen tumbling over each other, both in the streets and about every fountain, whither their rage for water had hurried them. The very temples too, in which they had placed their huts, [and which were mostly open at the top,] were filled with the corpses of those who had expired there. For as the violence of the calamity exceeded all bounds, and men knew not what to have recourse to, they fell into a neglect alike of sacred and of social duties. All laws too, and customs which had been in force respecting sepulture, were confounded and violated; men burying just where and how they could; and many, for want of funeral necessaries (so many deaths having before occurred in their families), had recourse to very indecorous means for the interment of their friends. For some, resorting to the funeral piles which were raising for others, would, before they were completed, lay their own corpses thereon, and set them on fire. Others, when a corpse was burning, would toss upon the fire another, which they had brought with them, and go their way.

"This pestilence gave rise to unbridled licentiousness;

"For as this was a kind of disorder which baffled all description, nay, even exceeded human nature, in the virulence which it exercised on the sufferers, so in the following respect it evinced itself to be something different from any of the ordinary distempers. For though there were many unburied corpses, those birds and beasts which prey upon human flesh either approached them not, or if they tasted, perished. A proof of which was seen in the total disappearance of all birds of prey, which were found neither about the carcases, nor elsewhere. But the dogs, from their domestic habits, and familiar intercourse with men, afforded a more manifest evidence of the thing.

"And none of the usual maladies made their attacks during the continuance of this disorder; or, if they did, soon terminated in this. The sufferers, moreover, died, some under neglect, others with all the care and attention possible; nor could any one remedy be devised, whose application would be certain to do good: for what benefited one, was prejudicial to another. Moreover, no constitution, whether in respect of strength or weakness, was found able to cope with it; nay, it swept away all alike, even those attended with the most careful management. But the most dreadful part of the calamity was the total dejection of mind which overwhelmed those who felt themselves attacked, (for falling at once into despair, they the more readily gave themselves up, and sunk without a struggle,) and they dropped, filled like diseased sheep with the infection communicated by their attendance on each other. That circumstance, too, occasioned most of the mortality ; for if men forbore, through fear, to visit the sick, they died, forlorn and destitute, from want of attendance, and thus whole families became utterly extinct; and if men ventured to approach, they met their own death. This was especially the fate of those who aimed at any thing like virtue; since they, ashamed of selfish caution, were unsparing of their own lives in attending on their friends ; for, at last, even their servants, overcome by the excess of the calamity, were wearied out with the groaning and

had survived the disorder were more compassionate to the dying and the afflicted; both as knowing by experience what the disorder was, and being now themselves in safety. For it never attacked the same person twice; so, at least, as to be mortal. And such persons were felicitated on their escape by others; and they themselves, amidst their present joy, nourished a sort of light hope for the future,—that they should never hereafter be destroyed by any disease [but die of mere old age].

"Besides the present calamity, the reception of the country people into the city had occasioned much annoyance, and especially to the new comers. [These persons had taken shelter within the walls of Athens, to avoid the invading armies which then threatened Attica.] For as they had no houses, but were compelled to lodge during the height of summer, in stifling huts, a horribly confused mortality occurred, insomuch that corpses lay stretched out, one upon another, as they had died; and half-dead corpses were seen tumbling over each other, both in the streets and about every fountain, whither their rage for water had hurried them. The very temples too, in which they had placed their huts, [and which were mostly open at the top,] were filled with the corpses of those who had expired there. For as the violence of the calamity exceeded all bounds, and men knew not what to have recourse to, they fell into a neglect alike of sacred and of social duties. All laws too, and customs which had been in force respecting sepulture, were confounded and violated; men burying just where and how they could; and many, for want of funeral necessaries (so many deaths having before occurred in their families), had recourse to very indecorous means for the interment of their friends. For some, resorting to the funeral piles which were raising for others, would, before they were completed, lay their own corpses thereon, and set them on fire. Others, when a corpse was burning, would toss upon the fire another, which they had brought with them, and go their way.

"This pestilence gave rise to unbridled licentiousness;