In reference to this passage of Scripture the following remarks of a late traveller are instructive:
“I asked my man if it was usual in Greece to give names to sheep. He informed me that it was, and that the sheep obeyed the shepherd when he called them by their names. This morning (March 5, 1828), I had an opportunity of verifying the truth of this remark. Passing by a flock of sheep, I asked the shepherd the same question which I put to my servant, and he gave me the same answer. I then bade him to call one of his sheep. He did so, and it instantly left its pasturage and its companions, and ran up to the hand of the shepherd, with signs of pleasure and with a prompt obedience which I had never before observed in any other animal. It is also true of the sheep in this country, that a stranger will they not follow, but will flee from him; for they know not the voice of the strangers. The shepherd told me that many of his sheep are still WILD; that they had not yet learned their names; but that by teaching they would all learn them. The others, which knew their names, he called TAME.”—Researches in Greece and the Levant, by the Rev. John Hartley, p. 321.
The city of Sybaris stood between two rivers, the Sybaris and the Crathis. The ancients asserted that the sheep which drank of the Crathis, were white, and those which drank of the Sybaris, black. They attributed similar virtues to other streams in various parts of the world[332].
[332] Ælian, Nat. Anim. xii. 36. Plinii Hist. Nat. xxxi. 9. Kruse’s Hellas, i. p. 369. (See [Appendix A].)
According to Strabo (L. vi. cap. 3. § 9. p. 303. ed. Siebenkees) the hilly promontory of Garganus was particularly celebrated for its sheep. He says, that their wool was softer than the Tarentine, but less shining.
The Roman poets allude in various instances to the excellence of the Apulian wool, and especially to that of Tarentum. Horace in the following stanza expresses his predilection for this celebrated city, and mentions its “soft” or “covered” sheep. He had been asserting his wish to end his days at Tibur, the modern Tivoli.
But, should the partial Fates refuse
That purer air to let me breathe,
Galesus, thy sweet stream I’ll choose,
Where flocks of richest fleeces bathe: