the oracle. The city in whose custody it was must be inviolable, and the roads thereto unobstructed. The oracle was a national possession, and its keepers were national servants.

THE GRECIAN FESTIVALS.

The public games or festivals of the Greeks were probably of greater efficacy in promoting a spirit of union than any other outgrowth of the religions sentiment of Greece. The Greeks exhibited a passionate fondness for festivals and games, which were occasionally celebrated in every state for the amusement of the people. These, however, were far less interesting than the four great public games, sacred to the gods, which were--the Pythian, at Delphos, sacred to Apollo; the Isth'mian, at Corinth, to Neptune; the Nemean, at Nemea, to Hercules; and the Olympic, at Olympia in E'lis, to Jupiter. To these cities flocked the young and the aged, the private citizen and the statesman, the trader and the artist, to witness or engage in the spectacles. The games were open to all citizens who could prove their Hellenic origin; and prizes were awarded for the best exhibitions of skill in poetry--and in running, wrestling, boxing, leaping, pitching the discus, or quoit, throwing the javelin, and chariot-racing.

The most important of these games was the Olympic, though it involved many principles common to the others. Its origin is obscure; and, though it appears that during the Heroic Age some Grecian chiefs celebrated their victories in public games at Olympia, yet it was not until the time of Lycurgus, in 776 B.C., that the games at Olympia were brought under certain rules, and performed at certain periods. At that time they were revived, so to speak, and were celebrated at the close of every fourth year. From their quadrennial occurrence all Hellas computed its chronology, the interval that elapsed between one celebration and the next being called an Olympiad. During the month that the games continued there was a complete suspension of all hostilities, to enable every Greek to attend them without hindrance or danger.

One of the most popular and celebrated of all the matches held at these games was chariot-racing, with four horses. The following description of one of these races is taken from a tragedy of SOPHOCLES--the Electra--translated by Bulwer. Orestes, son of Agamemnon, had gained five victories on the first day of the trial; and on the second, of which the account is here given, he starts with nine competitors--an Achæan, a Spartan, two Libyans, an Ætolian, a Magnesian; an Æ'ni-an, an Athenian, and a Boeotian --and meets his death in the moment of triumph.

The Chariot-race, and the Death of Orestes.

They took their stand where the appointed judges Had cast their lots and ranged the rival cars. Rang out the brazen trump! Away they bound! Cheer the hot steeds and shake the slackened reins; As with a body the large space is filled With the huge clangor of the rattling cars; High whirl aloft the dust-clouds; blent together Each presses each, and the lash rings, and loud Snort the wild steeds, and from their fiery breath, Along their manes, and down the circling wheels, Scatter the flaking foam.

Orestes still, Aye, as he swept around the perilous pillar Last in the course, wheeled in the rushing axle, The left rein curbed--that on the outer hand Flung loose. So on erect the chariots rolled! Sudden the Ænian's fierce and headlong steeds Broke from the bit, and, as the seventh time now The course was circled, on the Libyan car Dashed their wild fronts: then order changed to ruin; Car dashed on car; the wide Crissæ'an plain Was, sea-like, strewn with wrecks: the Athenian saw, Slackened his speed, and, wheeling round the marge, Unscathed and skilful, in the midmost space, Left the wild tumult of that tossing storm.

Behind, Orestes, hitherto the last, Had kept back his coursers for the close; Now one sole rival left--on, on he flew, And the sharp sound of the impelling scourge Rang in the keen ears of the flying steeds. He nears--he reaches--they are side by side; Now one--now th' other--by a length the victor. The courses all are past, the wheels erect-- All safe--when, as the hurrying coursers round The fatal pillar dashed, the wretched boy Slackened the left rein. On the column's edge Crashed the frail axle--headlong from the car, Caught and all mesh'd within the reins, he fell; And! masterless, the mad steeds raged along!

Loud from that mighty multitude arose A shriek--a shout! But yesterday such deeds-- To-day such doom! Now whirled upon the earth, Now his limbs dashed aloft, they dragged him, those Wild horses, till, all gory, from the wheels Released--and no man, not his nearest friends, Could in that mangled corpse have traced Orestes. They laid the body on the funeral pyre, And, while we speak, the Phocian strangers bear, In a small, brazen, melancholy urn, That handful of cold ashes to which all The grandeur of the beautiful hath shrunk. Within they bore him--in his father's land To find that heritage, a tomb.

The Pythian games are said to have been established in honor of the victory that Apollo gained at Delphi over the serpent Py'thon, on setting out to erect his temple. This monster, said to have sprung from the stagnant waters of the deluge of Deucalion, may have been none other than the malaria which laid waste the surrounding country, and which some early benefactor of the race overcame by draining the marshes; or, perhaps, as the English writer, Dodwell, suggests, the true explanation of the allegorical fiction is that the serpent was the river Cephis'sus, which, after the deluge had overflowed the plains, surrounded Parnassus with its serpentine involutions, and was at length reduced, by the rays of the sun-god, within its due limits. The poet OVID gives the following relation of the fable:

Apollo's Conflict with Python.

From hence the surface of the ground, with mud And slime besmeared (the refuse of the flood), Received the rays of heaven, and sucking in The seeds of heat, new creatures did begin. Some were of several sorts produced before; But, of new monsters, earth created more. Unwillingly, but yet she brought to light Thee, Python, too, the wondering world to fright, And the new nations, with so dire a sight, So monstrous was his bulk; so large a space Did his vast body and long train embrace; Whom Phoebus, basking on a bank, espied. Ere now the god his arrows had not tried But on the trembling deer or mountain-goat: At this new quarry he prepares to shoot.

Though every shaft took place, he spent the store Of his full quiver; and 'twas long before The expiring serpent wallowed in his gore. Then, to preserve the fame of such a deed, For Python slain he Pythian games decreed, Where noble youths for mastership should strive-- To quoit, to run, and steeds and chariots drive. The prize was fame; in witness of renown, An oaken garland did the victor crown. The laurel was not yet for triumphs born, But every green, alike by Phoebus worn, Did, with promiscuous grace, his flowing locks adorn. --Metamorphoses. Trans. by DRYDEN.

The victory of Apollo over the Python is represented by a statue called Apollo Belvedere, perhaps the greatest existing work of ancient art. It was found in 1503, among the ruins of ancient Antium, and it derives its name from its position in the belvedere, or open gallery, of the Vatican at Rome, where it was placed by Pope Julius II. It shows the conception which the ancients had of this benign deity, and also the high degree of perfection to which they had attained in sculpture. A modern writer gives the following account of it:

"The statue is of heroic size, and shows the very perfection of manly beauty. The god stands with the left arm extended, still holding the bow, while the right hand, which has just left the string, is near his hip. This right hand and part of the right arm, as well as the left hand, were wanting in the statue when found, and were restored by Angelo da Montor'soli, a pupil of Michael Angelo. The figure is nude; only a short cloak hangs over the left shoulder. The breast is full and dilated; the muscles are conspicuous, though not exaggerated; the body seems a little thin about the hips, but is poised with such singular grace as to impart to the whole a beauty hardly possessed by any other statue. The sculptor is not known: many attribute the statue to He-ge'si-as, the Ephesian, others to Praxit'e-les or Cal'amis; but its origin and date must remain a matter of conjecture."

The following poetical description of this wonderful statue is given us by THOMSON:

All conquest-flushed, from prostrate Python came The quivered god. In graceful act he stands, His arm extended with the slackened bow: Light flows his easy robe, and fair displays A manly, softened form. The bloom of gods Seems youthful o'er the bearded cheek to wave; His features yet heroic ardor warms; And, sweet subsiding to a native smile, Mixed with the joy elating conquest gives, A scattered frown exalts his matchless air.

THE NATIONAL COUNCILS.

While the elements of union we have been considering produced a decided effect in forming Greek national character--serving to strengthen, in the mind of the Greek, the feelings which bound him to his country by keeping alive his national love and pride, and exerting an important influence over his physical education