respecting the project itself, he resolved to test the credit of some of the chief surrounding oracles—­Delphi, Dodona, Branchidae near Miletus, Amphiaraus at Thebes, Trophonius at Labadeia, and Ammon in Libya.  His envoys started from Sardis on the same day, and were all directed on the hundredth day afterward to ask at the respective oracles how Croesus was at that precise moment employed.  This was a severe trial:  of the manner in which it was met by four out of the six oracles consulted we have no information, and it rather appears that their answers were unsatisfactory.  But Amphiaraus maintained his credit undiminished, while Apollo at Delphi, more omniscient than Apollo at Branchidae, solved the question with such unerring precision, as to afford a strong additional argument against persons who might be disposed to scoff at divination.  No sooner had the envoys put the question to the Delphian priestess, on the day named, “What is Croesus now doing?” than she exclaimed in the accustomed hexameter verse, “I know the number of grains of sand, and the measures of the sea:  I understand the dumb, and I hear the man who speaks not.  The smell reaches me of a hard-skinned tortoise boiled in a copper with lamb’s flesh—­copper above and copper below.”  Croesus was awe-struck on receiving this reply.  It described with the utmost detail that which he had been really doing, so that he accounted the Delphian oracle and that of Amphiaraus the only trustworthy oracles on earth—­following up these feelings with a holocaust of the most munificent character, in order to win the favor of the Delphian god.  Three thousand cattle were offered up, and upon a vast sacrificial pile were placed the most splendid purple robes and tunics, together with couches and censers of gold and silver; besides which he sent to Delphi itself the richest presents in gold and silver—­statues, bowls, jugs, etc., the size and weight of which we read with astonishment; the more so as Herodotus himself saw them a century afterwards at Delphi.  Nor was Croesus altogether unmindful of Amphiaraus, whose answer had been creditable, though less triumphant than that of the Pythian priestess.  He sent to Amphiaraus a spear and shield of pure gold, which were afterward seen at Thebes by Herodotus:  this large donative may help the reader to conceive the immensity of those which he sent to Delphi.

The envoys who conveyed these gifts were instructed to ask at the same time, whether Croesus should undertake an expedition against the Persians—­and if so, whether he should solicit any allies to assist him.  In regard to the second question, the answer both of Apollo and of Amphiaraus was deci sive, recommending him to invite the alliance of the most powerful Greeks.  In regard to the first and most momentous question, their answer was as remarkable for circumspection as it had been before for detective sagacity:  they told Croesus that if he invaded the Persians, he would subvert a mighty monarchy.  The blindness of Croesus interpreted this declaration into an unqualified promise of success:  he sent further presents to the oracle, and again inquired whether his kingdom would be durable.  “When a mule shall become king of the Medes (replied the priestess) then must thou run away—­be not ashamed.”