convened, he addressed them in a gentle and modest speech, imputing his calamities not to their envy, but to some evil genius which pursued him. He exhorted them to take courage, bade them oppose their enemies with all the fresh inspiration of their zeal, and taught them to hope for happier days. Delighted with these assurances, they presented him with a crown of brass and gold, which never was before given to any but the Olympic victors, invested him with absolute control over their naval and military affairs, restored to him his confiscated wealth, and ordered the ministers of religion to absolve him from the curses which they had denounced against him. Theodorus, however, the high-priest, evaded the last part of the decree, by alleging that he had never cast any imprecation on him, if he had committed no offence against the republic. The tablets on which the curses against him had been inscribed were taken to the shore, and thrown with eagerness into the sea. His next measure heightened, if possible, the brief lustre of his triumph. In consequence of the fortification of Decelea by the Lacedæmonians, and their having possession of the passes of the country, the procession to Eleusis, in honour of Athene, had been long unable to take its usual course, and being conducted by sea, had lost many of its solemn and august ceremonials. He now, therefore, offered to conduct the solemnity by land. … His proposal being gladly accepted, he placed sentinels on the hills; and, surrounding the consecrated band with his soldiers, conducted the whole to Eleusis and back to Athens, without the slightest opposition, or breach of that order and profound stillness which he had exhorted the troops to maintain. After this graceful act of homage to the religion he was once accused of destroying, he was regarded by the common people as something more than human; they looked on him as destined never to know defeat, and believed their triumph was certain so long as he was their commander. But, in the very height of his popularity, causes of a second exile were maturing. The great envied him in proportion to the people's confidence, and that confidence itself became the means of his ruin: for, as the people really thought the spell of invincibility was upon him, they were prepared to attribute the least pause in his career of glory to a treacherous design. He departed with a hundred vessels, manned under his inspection, with colleagues of his own choice, to reduce the isle of Chios to obedience. At Andros he once more gained a victory over both the natives and the Spartans, who attempted to assist them. But, on his arrival at the chief scene of action, he found that he would be unable to keep the soldiers from deserting, unless he could raise money to pay them sums more nearly equal to those which