incorrectness, one account was then changed into two. Whoever tries to harmonise these statements falls into inextricable difficulties. DELPHI, previously called Pytho (Πυθοῖ ἐν ἠγαθέῃ, as Homer has it), was situated at the foot of _biceps Parnassus_. This mount Parnassus extends from the mountains which separate Thessaly from Phocis (they are likewise called Parnassus, and reaching a considerable height, join Pindus on the one side and Oeta on the other), as far as the Gulf of Cirrha. Its highest peak is near Delphi; it then turns to the south-east, and becomes less and less wild where it passes into Helicon. The situation of Delphi cannot be mistaken, notwithstanding the scanty accounts we have of it: above it there rose a twofold rock, which during the greater part of the year was covered with snow; it rises in two peaks, between which there is a considerable chasm; towards the sea it turns in the form of a theatre, within which Delphi was situated. It was built high up on the slope of the mountain, like many towns of the ancient Latins, so that the upper streets were higher than the roofs of the houses below, and a man might from an upper street step upon the roof of a house below. Delphi was not fortified and had no walls, but it was nevertheless difficult of access, foot-paths only leading up, which it was easy to defend; no real acra is mentioned. About the size of the town nothing can be said; the ruins are too unimportant; it is scarcely possible to recognise the temple of Apollo, and I do not believe that the statements of travellers on this point are altogether trustworthy. Delphi was in all its relations a mysterious place; the question as to the nature of the προμαντεία, and a number of others cannot easily be answered. The well Castalia may still be recognised by its icy coldness. The chasms in the rock of which the ancients speak, and from which the intoxicating vapours rose, have never been discovered; it is possible, however, that by careful examinations they may yet be found, though it is not unlikely that they may have been closed by earthquakes, as they owed their origin to them. I readily believe that vapours may have risen from the earth, which produced a certain intoxication or inspiration; I also consider it possible that there may have been a time when the Pythia believed that she was inspired, and when even those consulting the oracle were convinced that they consulted the god himself; but subsequently, and during the greater part of the period of which we know anything, neither the people nor the priests believed in it, and the Pythia was a mere improvisatrice. Such things, however, rarely begin as impositions; and how it can have been that originally there was no imposition, no one is able to say on mere reflection.