Before reaching the site of the old city we passed a cross-roads where a troop of young Corinthians was rushing out of an unpainted adobe schoolhouse. Nearly all of them were clothed in tunics made of blue and white checked gingham, the favorite pattern for aprons among New England housewives. It was the noonday recess, and, notwithstanding their traditional eagerness for intellectual culture, it is evident that the schoolboys of Greece feel more amiable when coming away from the schoolhouse than when they are following their noses in the other direction. They were playing pranks upon one another, and we stopped the carriage to see the result of an amateur wrestling match. In the adjoining lot was a boy about twelve years old, clad in a similar tunic, herding a drove of pigs. He looked as if he felt his humiliating situation, and we silently extended our sympathy to him. I felt like reminding the youngster, for his encouragement and consolation, that one of the noblest and the greatest of the popes was a pig-driver when he was a boy, and that that also was the occupation of Pizarro, the conquistador of Peru, before he entered the Spanish army.
Where this schoolhouse stands was once a suburb of Corinth, known as Kraneion, which, about 2,300 years ago, was the abode of an old crank named Diogenes; perhaps not the first, and I am certain not the last, of the cynics. He was born and brought up in the town of Sinope, where his father was a money-changer, and the old man, being deficient in the moral perception and the cunning of some of the modern Greeks, was detected in the adulteration of coin. He died in prison, and the disgrace seems to have soured the life of his son, who wandered about telling people what fools they were to waste their time in enjoyment; and, to practice what he preached, he discarded all earthly possessions except a cloak, a wallet in which he carried bread, and a wooden bowl. He threw the last away some time after, when he saw a boy drinking out of the hollow of his hand—at least that is the story as I remember it from my college days, when for a time I knew Diogenes and other famous Greeks quite intimately.
When Diogenes finally reached Corinth he found that prosperous and luxurious city a fine field for a cynic to work in, and took lodgings and office-room in a large jar that was made to hold wine but had been thrown away as leaky and useless. He used to make fun of the rich and vain Corinthians, and although he ate nothing but scraps that the cooks threw at him, he lived to a very old age, and became so famous that Alexander the Great came to visit him. After a memorable interview, when the emperor arose to take his departure, with a gracious impulse he told the old cynic that he would grant him any favor that he desired to ask. Diogenes looked up with a twinkle in his eye, and requested him to get out of his light.
Diogenes died from the bite of a dog, and his last request to the neighbors was that they throw his body into the alley for the dogs to eat; but they refused to do so, and gave him a noble funeral and erected a monument in his honor, upon which was carved the figure of a dog—the symbol of his life.
A little village of fifty or sixty houses, with a store or two, a post-office and a café, occupies the site of the old city. Part of the lands about have been purchased by the American Archeological Institute. Its representatives from the American School of Classical Studies at Athens have been engaged for several years in making excavations, and have laid bare a considerable portion of old Corinth, including the forum, the market-place, the temple of justice, three fountains, baths hewn in the solid rock, and several dwellings and buildings that were occupied for business purposes. The work is being extended gradually as fast as the limited funds of the society will allow, and the disclosures are of great classical interest and importance to historians and students. It will be continued until all the important ruins are disclosed. Near by, upon a convenient roadway, a warehouse has been erected to preserve the statues, the inscriptions and other small articles of interest that are found in the excavations.
RUINS OF ANCIENT CORINTH, GREECE
Excavated by the American School at Athens
Unfortunately for us, the laws of Greece prohibit the exportation of these relics. The government is very strict about such matters. No excavations can be made without a permit from the authorities, who designate an inspector to supervise them, and he keeps a careful watch upon all that is done. Everything must go to the museum at Athens unless the owner of the property is willing to erect a building for the public exhibition of whatever he may find. In this way some of the old cities and the little towns of Greece have secured local museums which possess a certain advantage in enabling students to study archeology upon the ground, but this scarcely offsets many disadvantages, for most of them are difficult of access. The most important articles discovered at Corinth have been sent by the American school to the National Museum at Athens.
At a shop in the village a few fragments of indifferent value from the excavations are for sale, and they are no doubt genuine. Bogus antiquities are manufactured in large quantities, but most of them are more expensive than the genuine. Although the Romans carried away from Greece the choicest works of art to embellish their palaces and temples, and vandals have been following their example ever since, the earth is still full of marble, pottery and bronzes, which are being uncovered daily. But most of the work is done by foreigners. The Greek government is so poor that it can afford to do but little, and the citizens have other uses for their money.
Near the excavations, in front of a low adobe hut, sat an aged man in the native costume, smoking his pipe and rocking the cradle of a child. He might have posed for a portrait of Diogenes.