real merry boy with a crown of ivy-leaves and a strange power of inspiring wild thoughts in the human breast. His laughing eyes had often peeped through the thick coverts of vines at the village maidens, and stories were told how once he had leapt from his tiger-chariot to win the love of Ariadne. When spring came round, and the last year's wine was opened, there was another festival, even more joyous, and merriment became boisterous as the power of the god made itself felt; and these spring festivals grew to be the chief ones of the year. Many rude games arose, in which the young men contended for a goat,[1] the victim sacrificed, or for a cup or tripod. One of the sports was to dance upon the slippery changing surface of a skin of wine, and he who kept his footing best carried off the skin of wine for his prize. Another was to sing extemporised songs in honour of the god; and when, in any district, a poetical spirit sprang up, this became a leading feature of the contests. Some particular village, we may suppose, would get famous for the hymns sung yearly at its spring festival, and become the centre of a district: the villagers made themselves a name, and went about to sing at neighbouring feasts; then matches were made up between different companies of singers, or individual poets contended together; and the thing grew until there were organised bands of twelve or more, who danced round the altar of Bacchus singing their hymns in his praise, and ballads describing his birth, and his loves, and his exploits. The first systematis-
- ↑ The memory of this custom is probably still preserved in the name of "Tragedy," which means "the goat-song."
