The olive-crown was nothing!-- the shouts of assembled Greece--the showers of herbs and flowers--the banquet set apart for the victor--the odes of imperishable poets--the public register which transmitted to posterity his name--the privilege of a statue in the Altis--the return home through a breach in the walls (denoting by a noble metaphor, "that a city which boasts such men has slight need of walls" [118]), the first seat in all public spectacles; the fame, in short, extended to his native city-- bequeathed to his children--confirmed by the universal voice wherever the Greek civilization spread; this was the true olive-crown to the Olympic conqueror! No other clime can furnish a likeness to these festivals: born of a savage time, they retained the vigorous character of an age of heroes, but they took every adjunct from the arts and the graces of civilization.

To the sacred ground flocked all the power, and the rank, and the wealth, and the intellect, of Greece.

To that gorgeous spectacle came men inspired by a nobler ambition than that of the arena.

Here the poet and the musician could summon an audience to their art.

If to them it was not a field for emulation [119], it was at least a theatre of display.
XIX.