Consul Q. Marcius Philippus, unwilling to trust his army to the pass of the Cambunian mountains, led it bodily over the Low Olympus. Yet is such a route one of exceeding difficulty. The horses of the country follow a stony way along narrow vales, with gradual yet painful rises and descents. The table-land that is ultimately attained presents still greater difficulties. It is not only irregular and rocky, but it is as it were traversed and barricaded throughout its whole extent by secondary chains. These constitute so many lines of natural retrenchments, which divide it into totally distinct regions, and which can only be reached one after the other. First we find ourselves in the little plain of Sparmo. It is situated on the great slopes of Olympus, and closed to the south by a long line of abrupt hills. The southern slope of High Olympus rises like a wall, a magnificent vegetation clothes the lower portion; the oaks and evergreens gradually make way for pines and firs; above is nothing but naked mountain. The great monastery of Ha Triadha is situated amidst the last pine-trees. As to the plain of Sparmo itself, it is of exceeding fertility, covered with corn and grape-vines, and the monks have a farm there surrounded by gardens. A long row of planes mark the course of a torrent that descends from Olympus: it is an affluent of the Titaresius, which is seen to the westward in the direction of Alassona. To the south-east are the villages of Boliana and Skammia, perched on lofty hills.

Between the valley of Sparmo and the plain of Karya is the conical mountain Detnata. No doubt fortresses defended the approach of the table-land from all these heights, but history has only recorded one by name, Eudieru, and M. Heuzey places it on Mount Detnata. It has been previously identified by Leake with Konispoli, between Mount Detnata and Mount Godaman. The plain of Karya is level pasture and arable, and fills the whole extent of the table-land of Low Olympus from the east to the west. Numerous peaks rise up, however, out of this tableland, whence its old name of Octolophos, or the eight summits." Two rivulets have also their sources there, and flow in different directions. The Konispoli of Colonel Leake, M. Heuzey says, should be Konospoli a district of pasturage without the fragment of a ruin.

The shores of Pierus may be reached from the upland of Karya directly by a wooded ravine, at the head of which is the monastery of Kanalia; but the Romans traversed the upland obliquely, continuing their march by Lake Ascuris, now Nezero, whose basin constitutes the third region of Low Olympus. Wood-clad hills, circularly disposed, enclose a basin of water of small extent, like a cup half filled with water. This so-called basin or cup is, however, at a higher elevation even than the upland of Karya, and the waters are said to flow off in various directions by subterranean channels. A large village, with two lofty poplars, imparts a certain degree of civilisation to the scene. In the time of the Low Empire this village, Ezero, or Nezero, was the seat of a bishop. Lake Ascuris, which the people of Nezero, as it is now called, tried in vain to drain, is dominated by two summits, one of which, Metamorphosis (the Transfiguration), is the culminating point of Low Olympus (4874 feet). Livy describes the Romans as first contemplating Macedonia from its summit. Close by was also the castle of Lapathus, which Leake identifies with the ancient castle near Rapsani; and M. Heuzey, who

"over"

says we should translate "super Ascuridem paludem," not as or "above," but as "beyond" the lake, also identifies it with the same spot, which he describes as a hill beyond the flourishing and once important village of Rapsani, and as called by the inhabitants Hos Hilias, and also Paleo-Kastro.

The Romans were stopped at this point where commence the eastern and wooded slopes of Low Olympus, known as the forests of Callipeuce. For two days they combated the Macedonians under Hippias in vain. "Singular field of battle," exclaims M. Heuzey, "the summits of these mountains! I should have liked to have determined the precise theatre of the action; but amidst so much contrasted configuration more than one eminence can be found suitable for a camp, and more than one crest long and wide enough for a struggle between the two armies. I have never seen," adds M. Heuzey, "anything more wild or more magnificent than the slopes of the Low Olympus, by which the Romans ultimately made their way it is an immense forest, enveloping in its shadows a whole region of ravines and fissures. Clear and rapid streams roll noisily along gorges wooded to the very base. The vigour and variety of vegetation are incredible: the trees of the plain, which one is astonished to meet at such an elevation, evergreen oaks, and especially enormous planes, ascend up along the course of the torrents to where grow the chesnut-trees and even the pines." Five miserable Greek hamlets are met with in the forest. The Romans, who had deceived the enemy, did not, M. Heuzey thinks, descend by this way, but by the more abrupt descent of Skotina and Pandeleimone, the former among the pines, the latter among the chesnuts, suspended above the Turkish fortress of Platamona-the ancient Heracleion of Pierus. According to Livy, the army reached the shore beyond Heracleion, and they would have reached the olive-clad monticules of the monastery of Panaghia, supposing the Roman consul to have encamped there, after three days' march by Krania, Egane, Avarnitza, and Pourlia, just as much as by the Mount of the Transfiguration, Skotina, and Pandeleimone. Besides, unless they went to Pandeleimone first before Skotina, they would have had to retrace their steps to Lake Ascuris-a movement of which Livy makes no mention. Still, if the passes from Rapsani to Tempe on the one hand, and to Heracleion on the other, were closed by the Macedonians, they may possibly have retraced their steps along the flanks of the Sipoto, and have thread their way with the labour and disorder described by the historians along the gorge that separates that mountain from the Mount of the Transfiguration.

The shore of Pierus is, so to say, one long forest on the borders of the sea. From Pyrgheto to Platamona, a distance of five miles, is a low belt clad with a dense shrubbery, and traversed here and there by streams that spread out in lagoons and marshes in the woods. A few spots alone are cultivated. The Turkish fortress of Platamona, built upon the site of the ancient Heracleion, stands, as Livy described it, on a rock that dominates the course, a torrent called by Pliny Apilas, or "the threatener." The walls of the ancient city did not occupy the summit of the hill, as at present, but enveloped the whole mass. Two and a half miles beyond Platamona a goodly stream is met with, called the Ziliana. From this point the coast ceases to be low and submerged, and rises abruptly, the

The

foot of Olympus prolonging its rocky slopes down to the very sea. Greek village of Leftokargo is erected where the ground first begins to rise.

From this point (says M. Heuzey) the aspect of Olympus is astonishing and magnificent. Four narrow gorges are seen to open at the same point, to penetrate deeply into the wooded flanks of the mountain, and from these depths four torrents issue forth to unite and form the Ziliana. The first two ravines are cleft through the mountain north of Skotina; they are separated by a lofty conical hill, which rises up between them like a fragment of wall, and which is called Karavidha. The third of these ravines is already known to us; it is the gorge of the monastery of Kanalia, by which the waters of the plain of Karya discharge themselves; the fourth descends from another little table-land, called Bektech. Beyond it the Low Olympus ends, and the mountain begins to tower up in all its majesty.

Scholars have hitherto identified the river Sus, or Sys (wild boar), which by its sudden rising destroyed the tomb of Orpheus and the town. of Libethra, or Libethrum (and between which and Heracleia the Romans reached the plain after their arduous descent of Olympus), with the Enipeus, the present Vythos. (Dictionary of Greek and Roman Geography, Art. "Libethra.") The chief reason for this identification was, that it was supposed that the only two torrents that could have effected such havoc as that described by Pausanias were the rivers of Platamona and Litokhoro. But M. Heuzey shows that the name λeißnopa, "canals or ravines," corresponds exactly with the Kanalia of the present day. He finds in the rock of Karavidha the mountain of the Libethros spoken of by the poets, and the sacred fountain of Pierus, the great sanctuary of the Muses, daughters of Zeus, at the junction of the four torrents, and finally in the river Ziliana, formed by their union, the Sus, or Sys, which by its sudden flood destroyed the city and the tomb.

It is but just to remark, however, that when M. Heuzey comes to describe the Enipeus, behind which Perseus entrenched himself to oppose the Romans, that he admits the accuracy of Livy's description of that river as becoming in times of flood an impetuous and disastrous torrent.

Such is the torrent of Litokhoro in the present day, and the description given of it is minutely exact. It has opened for itself a deep and cavernous bed in the rocks of the shore, its banks are perpendicular, in some places it is a real gulf. The inhabitants call it Vythos-the abyss. When I traversed it, there was only a streamlet flowing over pebbles; the next day it was the same rivulet, swollen by a storm that carried away all the saw-mills erected in its bed. But that which is beautiful beyond all conception is the gorge whence it precipitates itself, and which opens behind Litokhoro. Here the Olympus is deeply cleft throughout its whole height. It can be said without exaggeration that the eyes. penetrate even into the bowels of the mountain; they distinguish gloomy forests, everywhere suspended over the two borders of that immense rupture, and ascending from rock to rock, from precipice to precipice, they rise up to the loftiest summits, which close up the extremity of the ravine with their bold outline. This gorge, in which is situated at a great height the celebrated monastery of Hos Dhionysios, is one of the roads by which the summit of Olympus is attained.

The easier road is, however, from Malathria (anc. Dium), which reaches the gorge at the monastery. The first station is at the Metokhi, or farm of Skala, dependent on the monastery. A good road carried through a wood of chesnuts and pines leads thence to the convent. The position of the

latter is described as unique. It is lost in the depths of an immense ravine, between two walls, which rise up almost beyond the reach of vision, bearing pine-trees in long files suspended to every ledge. It is in the midst of this wilderness that the grey mass of the monastery is first distinguished—a worthy child of the older monasteries of Meteora, so picturesquely described by Mr. Curzon.* Leaving Hos Dhionysios, the bed of the ravine is followed between hanging forests. The great trees that form the latter are almost exclusively beech in the depths of the gorge, and pines higher up. These forests of High Olympus abound in stags and deer. The chamois is also met with on the more inaccessible heights. But this most sacred mountain has been tabooed from all times to beasts of prey. (Theoprast. ap. Ælian, Nat. Animal., iii. 22.)

Two hours' travel take the explorer to Khristomilo, which is the most elevated of all the saw-mills on the mountain. The torrent which has been followed up to this point now separates into several impracticable ravines. A long and difficult slope, called the Mavrolonggo, or "Black Forest," from its dark pines, has to be traversed. On issuing from this wood, nearly the last line of vegetation on the Olympus is reached. All that is above and beyond is naked and covered with stones, in the midst of which are here and there tufts of grass "burnt by the winds." A vast amphitheatre of rocks, formed by the precipices of the loftiest summits, now presents itself to view. All this region of summits consists of grey marble disposed in horizontal beds, an enormous calcareous mass no doubt raised up by the serpentines which are met with in the deep ravines below. This marble, broken into fragments by the action of the elements, accumulates in heaps of stones upon the naked slopes. On every side are also deep crevices, in which snow is found all the year round.

At the extremity of this vast amphitheatre a rock of remarkable aspect, torn in its upper part, and assuming the shape of a shell, rises up. It is the second culminating point of Olympus, the highest of those which are grouped to the south. It is called Kalogheros, or "The_Monk,” and tradition relates that it is the sepulchre of Saint Dhionysios. A little farther on, in a southerly direction, are several rounded summits, grouped together like the numerous cupolas of a Byzantine church. the summits that dominate over the table-land of Karya and Sparmo. The most elevated among them is the third summit of Olympus, and is known by the name of Itchouma.

These are

The loftiest of all the summits of Olympus, the peak of Hos Hilias, rises up to the northwards. It is three hours' journey, along a kind of platform, from the Kalogheros to it. The crest itself is formed by two roof-like beds of rock, and at one point is the chapel of the prophet Elias, made with the rough unhewn stones collected on the spot, beat by the winds, and so small that a man can scarcely stand upright in it. The height of the peak of Hos Hilias is, from the observations of English surveyors, 9754 feet. A geometrician of olden time, Xeinagoras, who measured the perpendicular height of Olympus from the town of Pythium, determined its elevation to be ten stadia, and nearly one plethrum (Plut. Clemil., 15), which Holland, Dodwell, Leake, and others, considered as

* Visits to Monasteries in the Levant. By the Hon. Robert Curzon. Murray. 1849.

not far from the truth, since they estimated its height as between 6000 and 7000 feet. It has now, however, been ascertained to be one of the loftiest mountains in Europe, bearing comparison with the little St. Bernard, 9594; or even with Mount Etna, 10,963 feet. Herodotus relates that Mount Olympus was seen by Xerxes from Therma (vii. 128); and we know, from modern travellers, that in clear weather it is visible from Mount Athos, which is ninety miles distant. (Journal of Geographical Society, vol. vii. p. 69.) The prospect embraced from the summit is immense. On one side all Macedonia can be contemplated, on the other all Thessaly, whose lakes and rivers appear as if marked off on a map. A lofty mountain that towers up in the distance is Mount Parnassus. To the east the sea forms a vast circle from Mount Athos to beyond the island of Scyros, whilst to the west the chain of Pindus limits the horizon with its long serrated edge.

The imagination of the ancient Greeks had placed the happy country inhabited by the gods upon this lofty table-land of Olympus in the midst of the numerous summits that crown it. The palace of Jupiter arose near the last summit, surrounded by a flowery region, and below were ranged the abodes of the other immortals. A natural instinct has always led primitive people to place the residence of their deities on the summits of high mountains. On contemplating from the bottom of the valleys these aërial regions which appear inaccessible, men easily come to consider them as a world apart, different from that below, and inhabited by beings superior to themselves. It was thus with the Pelasgians, who probably were the first to consecrate Olympus to their great god Jupiter; at a later period other gods came with the Hellenes, and took up their position on the sacred mountain. Primitive tribes ordinarily place their divinities in their own neighbourhoods; they do not like them being without the horizon, that is without the compass of their vision. The Greeks, in these remote times, lived on the plains of Thessaly, whence they could see rising up before them, at all hours of the day, the imposing mass of Olympus. It was there, in the presence of these sacred summits, that a whole epoch in the early life of the Hellenic race was passed; it was there that, by an elaboration of probably several centuries, Greek paganism issued forth from a crowd of confused beliefs.

Olympus was the theatre upon which the gods of the Hellenes began to be stripped of their ancient symbols, to assume a more sensible, a more human, and at the same time a more poetic garb. Hence did its name remain for ever attached to that brilliant transformation of the Greek religion. Those new gods made for poetry and for arts were called Olympian gods: the ancient god of the Pelasgians, whom they surnamed Pelor, or the Monster, became himself the Olympic Jupiter, the same that was sung by Homer and sculptured by Phidias. When the Greeks, and especially the Eolian and Doric tribes, left these countries, they took with them the worship of the Olympian gods, and the name of Olympus spread everywhere on their passage, and was multiplied indefinitely. Mountains with the same name are met with at Lesbos; the Eolian Island; near Smyrna, which was also a city of Eolians; in the chain of Ida; in that of Taurus, and as far as to the island of Cyprus. Mysia and Bithynia have each their Olympus, whose distant masses, seen from the sea, appear to form a background to the coast of Eolia. In Greece, one of the summits of the Lyceum takes the name of Olympus; the Dorians of Laconia have another territory, near to a wood consecrated to Jupiter, a mountain which they call Olympus. Let us more especially remember the great sanctuary of Olympus, founded under Doric influence, and which became for the Greeks, in their new establishments, the centre of the religion of the Olympian Jupiter.

But the Olympus of Thessaly did not the less remain the traditional sanctuary of the Greek religion and the mountain of Jupiter. Upon its least accessible