given it. The double prize for wrestling and music which he had gained in the years of his training, had marked him out as possessing at once the perfection of outward symmetry of form and the skill in minstrelsy which were required for such a function; and so, when the solemn hymn of victory was chanted around the trophy, he appeared either entirely unclothed, or clad only in the light linen tunic, which allowed his form, like that of a young Apollo, to be seen in all its grace and strength;[1] and his voice led the chorus in their song, while he guided them through all the measured movements of their dance. On that day, for the first time in his life, he must have been the observed of all observers, and must have tasted somewhat of the joy of praise and sympathy from a great multitude. It was a proof that he possessed gifts that would secure their praise. It was a proof, we may add, that he had gained the respect of his countrymen as one in whom the image of purity and modesty had not yet been defaced. The feeling indicated in the stories which Herodotos puts into the mouth of Solon,[2] that the Gods looked with most favour on the worship of sons, true, loyal, obedient, was not yet extinct; and the Greeks would hardly have tolerated at such a time the selection of one whose life was stained with intemperance or lust. What has been said before as to the
