THE GLORY THAT WAS GREECE 1 



017 



Photograph by Fred Boissonnas 

 AT THE VILLAGE FOUNTAIN IN THE MOUNTAINS OF PELOPONNESUS 



the road begins to rise gently ; we are 

 passing through the lower ranges of the 

 Parnes and a few minutes brings us to 

 the 1 2th century convent of Daphne, evi- 

 dently built on the site of a shrine once 

 dedicated to Apollo. Back of the convent 

 and away from the road is a forest of 

 pine and fir affording a grateful shade, 

 where we stopped for our luncheon (see 

 illustration, page 603). 



The convent of Daphne is in the very 

 heart of the Sacred Way ; at many points 

 by the roadside may be seen parts of the 

 original roadway cut in the living rock. 



Near the end of the pass are the ruins 

 of a temple of Aphrodite, with niches for 

 votive offerings. 



As we passed we noticed that in two of 

 the niches flowers had been placed — by 

 some pagan Greek, let us suppose, or say 

 by some sophisticated. modern, pretending 

 to pagan influence, with his tongue in his 

 cheek. 



TREADING IN THE PATH OF THERMOP- 

 YLAE'S HEROES 



This is sacred soil we are treading ; the 

 path we press has known the footprints 

 of the Three Hundred marching toward 



their rendezvous with Death at Thermop- 

 ylae, while in later centuries Roman 

 legions and Huns and Vandals have made 

 the encircling rocks echo to their shouts. 

 From the earliest times this road was 

 the natural route to the Peloponnesus, 

 leading over the Isthmus and on to Cor- 

 inth and beyond. 



AT THE SHRINE OF HUSBANDRY 



A turn in the road brought the bay into 

 view. A soft wind blew from the gates 

 of the sun and seemed to bear to us some 

 of the lovely color of the water; overhead 

 there was a Maxfield Parrish sky, and 

 underneath the brown soil of a parched 

 land. 



Coming to the water's edge, we stopped 

 and dipped our hands into the blue and 

 tried to fancy ourselves as pilgrims to the 

 shrine, or else candidates for at least the 

 Lesser Mysteries. 



Resuming our march, we went slowly 

 on, skirting the bay all the way to the 

 town. 



In the plain through which we passed, 

 man, according to the Greek tradition, 

 first practiced the art of husbandry, with 

 Divinity as a teacher, and at Eleusis took 



