last six weeks, but neither Greeks nor Turks venture to gather them, from fear of a surprise of the enemy. Among the vines the Turkish cavalry would have been of little use. Still the Greeks did not think proper to expose themselves for the sake of grapes, for the whole plain between Chalcis and Thespiæ was open to the Turks at the time I passed it with Captain Giorgaki. We waited till dark at Platæa, from fear of an attack, if we ventured to pass it in the daytime. A small troop of cavalry would have dispersed in a moment all our men, since the Greek infantry can make no stand whatever, in a flat country, against the Turkish cavalry. Besides our Captain had orders to march against the Turks, who came down from Thessaly; and he could not therefore be charged with cowardice for having made no attempt to clear the plains of Boeotia from the enemies. We arrived before midnight at Neochorio, a village opposite to Thespiæ, on a steep hill. We did not meet with a single Turk, and I myself laid in an ample stock of grapes, and felt no other regret, but that I was not able to carry them all away. They were delicious, of an exquisite flavour, and hanging down from the vines so abundantly, as if imploring the stranger to come and pluck them. We had hardly left the vineyard and entered upon the plain of Leuctra, when the moon rose beautifully; and it is impossible to describe its effect upon the imagination, when we marched in the awful silence of the night over those wide fields, upon which Mount Citharon threw its long dark shade. The spirits of the slain at Leuctra seemed to hover round us. The events of past centuries, and the future destinies of Greece, occupied my mind in deep and thoughtful meditation.

Neochorio, as the name implies, is a new place. No vestiges of antiquity are to be found there. A traveller ought to remark the significance of the names of places in Greece: thus the modern name of Platæa signifies bones, from kókkaλa; it is not improbable that the bones of the Persians were seen for centuries on the field of battle, just as the bones of the Burgundians are at Murten, in Switzerland, where they are found in quantities to this day. After the destruction of Platea, the new name may have been taken from this circumstance. The name of Thespiæ, which is called now Ermo Castro, means evidently a deserted place, which it is in reality. The mountain Marandali, to the north of Neochorio, is a branch of the Helicon, which is called at present Zagara. I regret that I had no time to mount the summit of Helicon, but I understand that no traveller has yet been able to discover the Hippocrene or Aganippe, mentioned in ancient writers.

I made an excursion on the following day to Thisbe, accompanied by two Palicaris of Captain Giorgaki; where the ancient walls of the city still excite the astonishment of the traveller. They prove the town to have been of considerable circumference, and the inhabitants must have been wealthy and powerful, or they would not have built such expensive fortifications. I went down to the sea-port, about three miles from Thisbe, and found also there numerous vestiges of ancient workmanship. The village, built within the circumference of the ancient Thisbe, contains a small number of houses. I remarked a wretched cottage built on the verge of the wall, and the contrast which the huge square stones of the wall formed to the paltry cot, struck me so

forcibly, that a woman came to ask me what I saw worth noticing in her humble habitation. She begged me to come in, which I did; and I found a venerable old man sitting upon the floor near the fire. I asked him his age; "I am ninety-three years old," he said, "and have not much longer to live, and perhaps the Turks will kill me yet before my time." I told him that I hoped the Turks would never come to his village. "If they come," he said, interrupting me, "I shall expect them in this place; my sons and daughters may go to the mountains, I will die here." He expressed, however, his hope, that Christianity would triumph over the Turkish infidels, and that the powers of Europe would never abandon Greece to utter destruction.

Dobrene is a considerable village, three miles from the ancient Thisbe. The inhabitants were chiefly Albanese, and a small number of them could speak the Greek language. They appeared to be industrious and wealthy people; for their houses were better built than those of other Baotian villages, and the men and women were well dressed. The village is separated by a narrow passage from the plain of Boeotia, and a watch-tower, built on a hill which commands the entrance to the valley of Dobrene, was garrisoned with a sufficient number of men to secure the inhabitants against any surprise from the enemy. The bishop of Thebes had taken refuge in this village. Born at Constantinople of a noble parent, and brought up on Mount Athos, he appeared to possess more knowledge of the world, and a greater stock of learning, in theology as well as in other branches of science, than I was used to expect from the Greek ecclesiastical dignitaries. He shewed me a small library, which he had saved from the Turks, and which contained some profane writers of antiquity, besides a good number of theological works. I recollect having seen there a manuscript paraphrase in Greek of the book of Job, written beautifully on vellum. He assured me that it was a manuscript of the tenth century.

On my return to Neochorio, I found that Captain Giorgaki intended to start the following morning; nor had he given me leave of absence for more than two days. We took a whole day to Zagara, a mountainous village six leagues from Neochorio. Our path was wild and rugged, winding itself through ravines and precipices, jammed in by overhanging rocks and hills, the tops of which were crowded with dark clumps of trees. Small rivulets gushed now and then forth from the sides of the hills. The most considerable stream was called Xeronero. At intervals the road rose above the heights, which separated us from the Baotian plain; and then we enjoyed for a short time a most magnificent view over the whole of Boeotia to the straits of Eubœa, whose high mountains girded our horizon to the east. Such a glimpse of distant scenery was delightful, after having walked for hours and hours in the dark shades of those inextricable ravines where the hills frequently seemed to close above us.

The village of Zagara had a wretched appearance. Without the precautionary measures of Captain Giorgaki, we should have been starved there, as not half the meat, or flour, or olives, which we wanted, could be found among the poor inhabitants of the place. It was no wonder that the Turks never attempted to advance on this road, where no plunder could have rewarded them for the difficulties

of the expedition. Our commissaries brought some goats from a considerable distance. As usual, the skin was taken off, and the whole goat put on a spit, and roasted on the fire, two men at opposite sides turning the spit. When done, the goat is divided into small pieces, an operation which is seldom performed with knives, but generally with the hands, and indeed the Greeks never use any forks, nor have I ever seen any but wooden spoons even among the wealthier class of people. The shoulder blade was generally brought to Captain Giorgaki, since it was universally believed among the soldiers, that he possessed the gift of foretelling future events, according to the shape of that part of the animal. They used to throng round him, whilst he held it in his hand, waiting anxiously and impatiently and in dead silence till he found out its significance and import. With the calm gravity of a Hierophant he then began to prognosticate, and was listened to with implicit faith. It was impossible to witness any practice more illustrative of the simplicity and the superstitions of the Homeric times.

The path from Zagara to Kyriaki is similar to that from Neochorio to Zagara; the distance is about seven leagues. The heights are covered with plenty of wood, and small villages are seen on the slope of hills considerably above the level of the plain. Their names are generally Albanese, such as Cutumla, Stercaiko; yet the most beautiful valley through which we passed, was called Agios Georgios, or St. George. Kyriaki contains about one hundred and twenty houses, and the inhabitants speak partly Greek, partly Albanese. There we were informed that the Turks had a few days ago completely destroyed Livadia, abandoned the place, and retired to Daulia. Captain Giorgaki resolved in consequence to proceed by the way of Stiri and Agio Luca to Distomo, where he expected to collect a sufficient number of men to be enabled to drive the Turks from their position. Agio Luca is one of the most celebrated convents in Greece; it is second to none but Mega Spilaio in Achaia. I saw there a beautiful church in the Greek style, and a considerable number of monks, who were all armed and constantly on the alert against the Turks. The town of Distomo was entirely deserted, and all the inhabitants had fled to the mountains. We passed a night there, during which they came down from their caverns, and brought us some provisions, after having been promised that they should be paid for them. Distomo is the ancient Ambrysus, and is situated in a fertile valley. The modern as well as the ancient name are taken from a fountain from which the inhabitants get an ample supply of water.

We left the following day; and a detachment of the troops, which Captain Giorgaki commanded, proceeded directly towards Daulia, whilst another took the road of Delphi. After an hour and a half we arrived on the celebrated spot, called the Schiste, where Edipus is supposed to have slain his father Laius. There three roads meet, those of Delphi, Distomo, and Daulia, in a small valley encompassed by mountains on all sides. The imagination of the poet could not have selected a spot more lonely and awful for the perpetration of a dreadful deed. The whole scenery bears a fierce and savage character, -a wild and irregular stamp, such as becomes the dark majesty of fate. We sat down on a swelling ground near the road. Captain

Giorgaki told me, that we must take leave of each other, as he intended to march upon Daulia. He proposed, however, to send two of his men with me as far as Arachova, which is about a league distant from Delphi. I declined his offer, and thanked him for his kindness, and gave a bakschi (drinking-money) to the palicaris who had accompanied me on my excursion to Thisbe. A goatskin was brought full of wine, and the first cup offered to me, upon which I drank the health of the Captain and his soldiers, and success to the cause of liberty. The Captain then drank my health; and kaλò ragidi (happy journey,) and we parted under the discharge of our pistols.

All my luggage was contained in a small knapsack, which I could carry conveniently on my shoulders. I walked on cheerfully, wholly lost in the magnificent sight of the scenery about me. From the Schiste the road is continually rising, as far as Arachova along the side of the mountains, which branch out from the Parnassus. At times the Gulf of Corinth can be seen, and the coast of the Morea, wherever the path rises above the woody hills which intervene. Arachova is a considerable village, containing several hundred houses, and the inhabitants generally speak the Greek language. Few Albanese reside amongst them. No traces of antiquity can be discovered there, and probably the place was not inhabited in ancient times. From Arachova it is an hour's walk to Delphi, or Castri, as it is now called. Innumerable tablets must have anciently been attached to the rock, because the small oblong squares cut into the rock, which contained them, are still perceptible all along the road from Arachova to Delphi. Those tablets were probably ex-votos of the pilgrims, whose pilgrimage to Delphi had been attended with success. At the entrance to Delphi, coming from Arachova, to the left stands now a Christian church of the miraculous Virgin Mary (Пlavayia,) and the people of Delphi believe just as firmly the miracles of the Christian image, as their ancestors did those of Apollo. To the right rises in perpendicular height into two peaks the rock, at the foot of which gushes out the Castalian water in a pure and limpid spring. The village is built on a sloping hill, so that the houses rise one above the other. The temple of Apollo, of which considerable ruins still remain, was built on the high ground, and must have presented a lofty and magnificent aspect from whatever side the stranger came, or wherever he took his abode at Delphi. At the bottom of the declivity runs a small rivulet called Phania, on the opposite side of which the mountain rises again to considerable height, covered with forests. The coast of Achaia cannot be seen from Delphi, a circumstance which adds much to the awful grandeur of the situation. The imagination is concentrated upon this wild spot, which the ancients supposed to be situated in the centre of the world. It seems remarkable, that most temples where prophecy or any other supernatual gifts were pretended to be exercised, are placed in the recesses of woods and forests, or in retired places among the mountains, where the soul is subdued by the overpowering awfulness of the surrounding nature. The Christian places of pilgrimage, which contain miraculous images, are generally also found in such secluded spots.

The ascent to the Catabothra is fatiguing; it took me two hours to reach it, being accompanied by a guide. It presents itself like a subterraneous temple, being of considerable length, and over-arched by the rock. No remains of sculpture, nor any fragments of antiquity, are found in the cavern. At a small distance is the spring of this Castalian water. At the time I was at Delphi it was the refuge of a number of persons from Thebes, Livadia, and Salona. The inhabitants had just completed their vintage, for the grapes ripen much later in Phocis than in Attica or Boeotia, the climate being more cold and rough, in consequence of the elevation of the country. This rendered the place very lively, a number of persons being engaged in carrying the grapes from the vineyards to the press. I remarked many handsome faces among the women, who wear a different dress from those of Attica, and have a greater appearance of health. The people of Delphi did not seem to apprehend any danger from the Turks, because the situation of their village facilitates its defence; nor did they appear to possess any correct information about the state of affairs. After having remained there several days, news came very unexpectedly, that the Turks were advancing upon Salona. Being obliged to pass Salona on the way to Missolonghi, I thought proper to leave Delphi immediately, and arrived at Salona after three hours walk. I passed through Chryso, the ancient Crissa, about a league from Delphi, where I met a number of people, who had left Salona the same morning. All the vessels and fishing boats were engaged in taking fugitives over to the Morea. The houses were quite deserted at Salona; almost all the women and children had fled to the mountains; and some hundred soldiers occupied the town and the castle, which was in a very dilapidated state; at the head of them was Captain Panourias, an old klephtes or robber, whose highest recommendation was, that he had been engaged in warfare against the Turks for above thirty years. Some soldiers I met in the streets conducted me before him, and after having satisfied him on the objec tof my journey, he inquired about the state of affairs in Attica. This circumstance may give an idea of the military organization of Greece at that time, when a captain expected to obtain important information from a rambling traveller. He complained in my presence bitterly of Captain Odysseus, who, he said, employed his time in repairing the Acropolis of Athens instead of meeting the Turks in the field. He attributed the advance of the Turks upon Salona to the indolence of the troops under the command of Odysseus, and his subalterns. Towards evening orders were given by Panourias, to a division of his troops, to set out in order to occupy a mountain defile, or derweni, which it was apprehended the Turks would attack early the following morning. If they succeeded in forcing that position, all further resistance became useless, and Salona must fall into the hands of the Turks. I walked up to the castle, which yet contains ruins of the ancient Amphissa, the chief town of Locris, which stood upon the site of Salona. Some Turkish prisoners, whose lives had been spared hitherto, were killed before my eyes, by the infuriated soldiers. After sunset Captain Panourias left the town himself, with his chosen followers, in order to join his troops at the derweni. From that moment the con