Apollo vindicated his honor by putting to rout the sacrilegious invaders, upon whom they fell and slew a considerable number.* We passed through several chambers with tapers in our hands, having taken off our shoes in order to walk more securely over the slippery floors. Our guides, for the purpose of expediting our visit as much as possible, wished us to restrict ourselves to the principal halls; but we explored the most considerable portion by creeping or crawling through one or more low passages. The Corycian Cave was dedicated to Pan and the Nymphs. At present the peasants call it "Saranta Aula," or the forty halls.

After leaving the cave, we rode across the plain to the kalyvia, or summer village, belonging to Arachova, where there was as yet not a soul to be seen. In the vicinity there was a large pond or mountain lake, whose only outlet is a subterranean one, giving rise, it is said, to the Castalian spring at Delphi. And now commenced the ascent of Mount Parnassus proper, which rises from this high plain. At first our path lay through a wood of pine and fir trees, reaching as far *Herodotus, 8, 36-38.

as the place where the snow first appeared in considerable patches. There we were obliged to dismount, although usually it is possible to go much farther with mules. Now began our troubles. Our guide, as well as the peasant who accompanied us, was utterly unaccustomed to walking through the snow, and rather than trust himself upon it, even for a short distance, would lead us around twice or thrice as far. Presently, however, it was no longer possible to avoid the snow, and then loud were the complaints of the Greeks at the hardship they were undergoing. It would have been easy in fine weather to have reached the summit within an hour and a half; but at the end of a couple of hours, what with the depth of the snow, the circuitous route we had taken, and the slowness of our "mountaineers," we found ourselves yet a long distance below the highest peak, though high enough to gain a fine view. It would have been more extensive, had not the air been somewhat hazy toward the horizon. It was clearly impossible to reach the summit and return that day. H., who seemed most disappointed, proposed that we should bivouac for the night on the first bare spot of ground we came to, and make the ascent on the morrow. The rest did not relish so much the idea of an exposure to the night air in the vicinity of the snow, without more protection than an overcoat would afford us; but we had some difficulty in persuading H. to relinquish his scheme. In fact, it was rather tantalizing to be so near the top of Parnassus, and yet fail to reach it. As it turned out, it was well that we did not remain; for the next day the mountain tops were enveloped in clouds, which would effectually have deprived us of our desired prospect.

Very unwillingly we turned our faces toward Arachova; and the Greeks, who had positively refused to proceed farther, on the plea of fatigue, once more rose and led the way. Arriving at Arachova, we strolled through the village, which is picturesquely situated on the mountain side. The costume of the women was peculiar. They wore their hair long, and hanging down behind in a long cue; while their red flannel aprons and short dresses gave them quite a picturesque appearance. I had formerly known the "didascalos,” or teach

er, of the public school, who had studied in the University of Athens; but as the day was now well advanced, and our excursion had been a fatiguing one, we resolved not to seek him out.

From Arachova our plan had been to proceed to the town of Livadia, and thither we sent our luggage directly. For a couple of hours we accompanied it, until we reached the narrow pass of Schiste, between Mount Cirphis and the base of Mount Parnassus. At Schiste, in ancient as in modern times, three great roads met, leading respectively to Delphi, to Livadia and Thebes, and to Daulis. Here it was that, according to the tragic poets, Edipus accidentally met his father, Laius, whom he unwittingly slew, and so fulfilled the prediction of the Delphic oracle. It is a lonely spot, upon which the frowning mountains look down in perfect harmony with such a deed of blood. But toward the east the defile opens, and discloses to the view a portion of the smiling plain of Boeotia, with the Copaic Lake in the midst.

There were three ruined cities, lying considerably to the north of the direct road to Livadia, which we desired to visit. We turned off here, and were not long in reaching the citadel of Daulis, overhanging a village of the same name. The fortifications, still remaining in good preservation, occupy the summit of a circular hill, near the western termination of a valley that lies on the eastern side of Parnassus, and opens into the great central plain of Boeotia. From the masonry of the wall, the stones of which are polygonal in form, but approach to regular courses, it would seem that the period of its erection must have been as early, at least, as the fifth century before Christ. But there are also indications of more recent constructions of Frank or Turkish origin.

It was the work of a few minutes to inspect all that remained of Daulis, and we hastily rode on for an hour to the second acropolis-that of Panopeus. Our mid-day repast was taken in the hamlet of Ai Vlasi, at its foot. The house that Nicholas chose chanced to have a board floor; but it could not boast a single chair. A broom was borrowed of the hostess; and, having cleared a spot to sit upon, we ate our lunch in peace, without disturbing the women, who, in another part

of the same room, were busy picking cotton. The seeds were removed by means of a machine working with three or four rollers-a poor substitute for the American cotton-gin. The hill of Panopeus is lofty, and from its crest the eye takes in the entire plain of Charonea. The remains of its walls we found to be the most interesting we had seen since leaving Messene, from their height and strength as well as their antiquity. But neither Daulis nor Panopeus have had the good fortune to occupy a prominent place on the page of history.

Not so with Charonea, whose fortress, some two or three miles farther to the east, was the next object to be visited. Occupying a central position, in the neighborhood of a fertile district, and on the direct route between the monarchy of Macedon and the free republics of Greece, it enjoyed the unenviable distinction of three times furnishing a battle-field upon which the die of empire was cast. The first of these conflicts, in point of time, was of little moment, scarcely exceeding a skirmish between the Athenians and the aristocratic party of Boeotia (B.C. 447), and is lost sight of in the comparison with the fearful contest fought a hundred and nine years later.* Philip of Macedon had at length cast off his mask of dissimulation; for his specious arts, his seductive speeches, and his more potent gifts, had accomplished their full design. Before this, his aim had been merely to gain time, and to secure the undisturbed execution of his plans of aggrandizement. Among the measures taken for the furtherance of these, he counted as no lavish expenditure the bribes given to Æschines and others, whose names are consigned to the same infamy with his. The fault of the Athenians was not so much that they did not act, as that they were perpetually too late in their enterprises. They never moved a finger to save Olynthus or Potidæa, until those cities were ready to fall like ripe fruit into the mouth of the eater. The prophetic eye of Demosthenes had long detected the certainty of the impending struggle, whose scene it was in the power of the Greeks to choose. They might have met and crushed the infant monster upon his own soil, where a victory would have been

*The third and last battle of Chæronea was between the Romans, under Sylla, and the army of Mithridates, who was defeated (B.C. 85).

BATTLE OF CHARONEA.

241

more decisive, or a defeat less disastrous. Their sloth induced them to neglect the propitious moment, and suffer the conflict to take place at their very gates, and to be no longer, as Demosthenes had long since foretold, one for supremacy and power abroad, but for their own liberty and the possession of Attica itself. Philip was suffered to advance to the banks of the Boeotian river, Cephissus (which flows through the valley we were in), and here upon its banks the matter was decided by force of arms. The exact spot on which the battle was fought can not now be recognized with perfect certainty, for the temple of Hercules that marked it has disappeared. But it is none the less positive that, before evening, this plain was covered with slain, and the hills with the fugitives. The Sacred Band of Thebes alone, to a single man, fell at their posts. From that day the light of freedom never dawned again upon Greece.

We climbed the Acropolis of Charonea with much greater alacrity than those we had previously inspected. The hill is loftier and more extensive; but we found the walls in a very poor state of preservation. They seem to have been double, and of great strength. At the base of the hill, on the edge of the plain, we examined a curious little theatre, resembling that of Argos, and, like it, cut out of the living rock. On the face of the rock separating the rows of seats I noticed a rude in

L