proved to be in modern times in preserving the Greek nationality under the Turkish Empire. The supremacy which was given to Zeus in theory in other parts of the country was visibly realised at Olympia, where the chief sanctuary was a temple dedicated to his worship, more than 200 feet long and about 90 feet wide, surrounded by 134 columns, each of them about 34 feet high, dating probably from the fifth century B.C. It was a magnificent edifice, as we may still judge from the appearance of the columns and the decorations of the pediments and the frieze—although built of native conglomerate. On the east pediment of the gable there were twenty-one colossal and imposing figures, representing those interested in the chariot-race from Pisa to the isthmus of Corinth, by which Pelops gained the kingdom and the hand of the king’s daughter; while on the west there was a representation, in a similar style, of the legendary battle of the Lapiths and the Centaurs. On the metopes of the frieze the Twelve Labours of Heracles were depicted, and along the sides of the roof gargoyles projected in the form of lions’ mouths. Many of these figures have been recovered, mostly in fragments, and are exhibited in the local museum. In the same place there is an exquisite statue of Hermes by Praxiteles, which was found under a covering of clay in front of the very pedestal in the temple of Hera where Pausanias mentions that he had seen it standing, and also a Niké of Pæonius, representing the goddess of Victory flying through the air to execute the behest of Zeus.

But the crowning glory of Olympia, the masterpiece of Pheidias and of Greek art, is gone beyond recall. It was a colossal image of Jupiter, made of gold and ivory and ebony, about 40 feet high, and standing on a pedestal of bluish-black stone in the innermost part of the temple. Cicero expressed his admiration of it by saying that Pheidias had designed it not after a living model but after that ideal beauty which he saw with the inward eye alone. Dīo Chrysostom bore still more impressive testimony to its entrancing beauty when he said: “Methinks that if one who is heavy-laden in mind, who has drained the cup of misfortune and sorrow in life, and whom sweet sleep visits no more, were to stand before this image, he would forget all the griefs and troubles that are incident to the life of man.” It is uncertain whether the image perished in the fire which destroyed the temple in the beginning of the fifth century A.D., or was carried to Constantinople and consumed in a conflagration which took place there in 475 A.D.

Near the centre of the Altis has been found the foundation of the great altar of Zeus (which was made of ashes and rose to a height of 22 feet), and not far off an ancient altar of Hera, where an immense quantity of small bronzes and terra-cotta figures has been found. In the same neighbourhood has been traced the Pelopium, a precinct sacred to the memory of Pelops, where he was worshipped as a hero with a ritual of a sad and gloomy nature, directed to a pit as an emblem of the grave, and more akin to the primitive worship of the Chthonian or infernal gods than to that of the deities who were enthroned on lofty Olympus.

The fame of Olympia may be said to have rested even more on its games than on its religious associations, though the secular and sacred were so bound up with one another, in ancient Greece, that it is scarcely possible to form a true conception of the one without the other. The Olympian games held the foremost place among those competitive exhibitions, which were so illustrative of the spirit of emulation characteristic of the Greeks, as well as of their ideal of a harmonious development of body and soul. There were three other foundations of the same kind: the Pythian, in honour of Apollo, likewise held every four years; the Nemean (under the care of Argos), every second year, in honour of Zeus; and the Isthmian (under Corinth), also held every second year, in honour of Poseidon. The prizes were respectively a wreath of bay, of pine, and of parsley, a palm-branch being also placed in the hand of the victor. The prize at Olympia was a wreath of olive, cut with a golden sickle by a boy, both of whose parents had to be alive—as among the Gauls the priest had to cut the sacred mistletoe with the same precious metal. At the three other places just mentioned the games dated practically from the first quarter of the sixth century B.C. But the register of victors in the Olympian games went back to 776 B.C., which is the first definite and reliable date (called the First Olympiad) in Greek chronology.

The origin of all these gatherings may probably be traced to the funeral games mentioned in Homer and Hesiod, which were celebrated by a chief in honour of a departed friend or relative. According to one account the Olympian games were instituted by Heracles in honour of Pelops, grandfather of Agamemnon and brother of the ill-fated Niobe, who had come to Pisa from the Lydian kingdom of his father Tantalus—that presumptuous guest at the table of the gods whose name is immortalised for us in the English word which describes the nature of his penal sufferings. The traditional connection of Olympia with Asia Minor is borne out by the resemblance of the bronzes above mentioned to early Phrygian art, as well as by other circumstances; and there is no reason to doubt that Olympia was at one time in the hands of the Achæans.

The Dorian invasion of the Peloponnesus about 1100 B.C., eighty years after the fall of Troy, marked a new era in the history of Olympia. The Heracleids (whose shipbuilding for the voyage across the narrow straits of the Gulf is still commemorated in the name of the port Naupactus, on the northern side of the Gulf) are said to have rewarded the Ætolian exile Oxylus, who acted as their guide (answering to the oracular description of “a man with three eyes,” whom they were to find—being one-eyed and riding on a horse with two eyes), by confirming him in the possession of Elis, which in older times was known as Epeia, and is so referred to by Homer. For a long time the Eleans and the Pisatans seem to have superintended the games

jointly, with the support of the Dorian settlement at Sparta, whose great lawgiver, Lycurgus, was said to have put the institution on a new footing in concert with Iphitus, the king of Pisatis, the names of both being inscribed on a famous quoit of which Aristotle speaks. Pausanias tells us that the towns of Elis and Pisatis appointed sixteen women—eight from each state—to weave the festal robe (peplos) for the image of the Olympian Hera. The Pisatans, however, were afterwards displaced, and in 570 B.C. their city was destroyed, and Elis obtained the whole right of administration.

The first historic game was a foot-race, and it was only by degrees that other contests were at various times added. The pentathlon, during which the Pythian air was played on the flutes in honour of Apollo, consisted of running, jumping, throwing the disc or quoit, throwing the javelin, and wrestling. Finally came chariot-racing (in a hippodrome adjoining the Altis), which, though necessarily confined to men of wealth, added much to the spectacular attractions of the games.

The competitors had to strip naked for the athletic contests, this being a characteristic feature of the Greek games, obligatory on all without distinction of rank. There were games for boys as well as for men, and the celebrations, which at first were confined to a single day, extended ultimately to five days. The women had a festival of their own, with games for girls; but at the ordinary games married women were not allowed to be present. At the same time there was very little coarseness or cruelty about them, compared with a Roman gladiatorial exhibition or a Spanish bull-fight—except in the pancratium, a combination of wrestling and boxing, in which the combatants were allowed to get the better of one another by any means in their power, provided they did not make use of any weapon, which was forbidden in all the contests. The conflict was sometimes attended with a fatal result. Pausanias mentions a case of this kind in which a dead man was proclaimed victor, and crowned with the olive wreath.

The stadium or race-course can be distinctly traced north-east of the Altis. The two parallel grooves in the stone pavement at the starting-point, the one a few inches in front of the other, were evidently intended to give the runner a secure footing. The course was 600 feet long, which became a recognised measure of distance, as the English furlong was derived from the length of a furrow. But the double race was soon introduced, which accounts for there being similar grooves at the other end, where the seats for the judges were, as the start would then have to be made from that end. In the same place you can also trace the sockets, about four feet apart, in which were fixed the wooden posts that marked off the space for each of the runners, who could be accommodated to the number of twenty.

There is a vaulted entrance to the stadium about a hundred feet high (one of the oldest examples of such work in cut stone, 350-300 B.C.), through which none could pass but the judges and heralds, and the competitors, who must have gone through ten months’ training, and were lodged during the games at the public expense. Close to this entrance are still to be seen a large number of pedestals, on which stood at one time certain brazen images, well fitted to warn competitors against any infringement of the rules. They were called Zanēs in honour of Zeus, and they had all been placed there at the expense of persons who had been convicted of some violation of the rules. Giving or receiving bribes was the most common offence at Olympia, as it was indeed with the Greeks generally, even in the more serious game of politics. But there were others of a different nature. For example, Pausanias tells of a man of Alexandria who had come too late for the boxing match, and, finding that another had been adjudged the prize without a contest and was already wearing the olive wreath, put on the gloves as though for a fight and rushed at the victor, for which he was sentenced to pay a fine. In contrast to the penal erection of a statue to Zeus, the winner of a prize was allowed to put up a statue in commemoration of his victory, and the third time he thus distinguished himself he was at liberty to erect an image of himself. In this way Olympia became in course of time a great school of art as well as a gymnastic arena. In Homer there is no mention of statues of the gods, not even of wood, and the development of art in this line during the seventh and sixth centuries was very remarkable.

Xerxes or one of his princes is said to have expressed his astonishment that the Greeks should contend so earnestly for the sake of an olive wreath. But in reality the wreath was only an emblem of the honour conferred upon the victor. In the days of Solon, before the games had reached the height of their popularity, a grant of 500 drachms was made to an Athenian when he was successful at Olympia, and 100 drachms if he carried off a prize at the Isthmian games. The reward offered by the Spartans to any of their sons who thus distinguished themselves was the privilege of fighting near their king. Success in the competitions was attended with many other advantages. The victor in the foot-race gave his name to the Olympiad which was then beginning; the name, parentage, and country of every successful competitor was publicly proclaimed before the whole assembly, which comprised deputies from the most important cities of Greece, frequently very distinguished men, who had been sent not only to do honour to Zeus but also to maintain the dignity of the community which they represented. For example, Alcibiades headed the deputation which Athens sent, after an interval of twelve years, during the Peloponnesian war. On that occasion there was a remarkable display of Athenian wealth and magnificence in connection with the public processions and sacrifices. Alcibiades himself entered as a competitor with seven chariots—each drawn by four horses—one of which gained a first prize and another a second. He gave a splendid banquet to signalise his triumph; and such was the impression made on the assembled visitors by what they had seen of Athenian greatness that Alcibiades

claimed, some years afterwards, to have done much on this occasion to restore the prestige of the city. A man in the position of Alcibiades could afford to give a banquet to celebrate his victory. But, in general, the feasts and processions were provided for the winners by their friends and admirers, and, on returning home, they received a great ovation and frequently had substantial benefits conferred upon them. We have an illustration of the interest taken in the contests even by distant colonies in the fact that when (408 B.C.) a native of Agrigentum in Sicily came off victorious, he was met, when he returned home, by three hundred of his richest countrymen, each driving a chariot drawn by two milk-white steeds. Sometimes a poem was written to commemorate victory, and the odes of Pindar, written for this purpose, have proved more imperishable than brass.[1]

From a physical point of view there can be no doubt that the games at Olympia and elsewhere had a salutary influence on the nation, and helped to develop that aptitude for military life which enabled them to repel the Persian invaders and to distinguish themselves so often in the field of war. But higher interests were also promoted. Although no prizes were offered for intellectual distinction, the opportunity was often afforded for the publication of literary works. Herodotus is said to have read aloud his history at Olympia, and to have thereby stirred the ambition of Thucydides. Dramatic performances were also sometimes given. It was the great ambition of Dionysius, the Tyrant of Syracuse, who had risen from a comparatively humble position to be the greatest potentate in the Grecian world, to distinguish himself as a dramatic poet. With this view he once sent to Olympia, along with a splendid embassy, a fully equipped company of the best actors of the day, to represent some plays which he had written. They met with a very bad reception, which was no doubt partly owing to the personal unpopularity of their author; and it is said that when Dionysius heard that his verses had been laughed at, and that his representatives had been treated with contumely, he was so chagrined that he almost went out of his mind. A still worse effect was produced on him, however, some time afterwards by his success at the Lenæan festival in Athens, for the rejoicing and conviviality to which he abandoned himself when he heard that he had gained the first prize were largely the cause of his death.

Literature was not the only interest which was promoted side by side with gymnastic accomplishments. Such a gathering of Greeks from all parts of the world could not fail to have an educative influence from many points of view. Intellectually it afforded the most cultured men an opportunity for discussing subjects of common interest and for an exchange of views, while politically it tended to counteract the tendency to isolation on the part of the several states, and to foster unity of sentiment among the members of the great Hellenic race from Trebizond to Marseilles, and from Amphipolis to Cyrene. Occasionally great orations were heard at critical periods in the history of the nation, as when Lysias and Isocrates strove to rouse their countrymen to a sense of the dangers impending over them from the tyranny of Persia on the east and that of Syracuse on the west. Even commerce shared in the benefit, for it was a meeting-place of merchants from far and near. As already indicated, the games had also a religious aspect. Many sacrifices were offered during the celebrations, and solemn oaths were taken. Near the entrance to the stadium there was an image of the god of Oaths holding a thunderbolt in each hand, before which competitors had to swear that they would conform to the rules laid down for them. For a fortnight before and after the celebrations (which took place at the first full moon after the summer solstice) a truce was proclaimed throughout the whole of Greece, to enable competitors from all parts to attend. So strictly was this enforced that the Spartans were excluded from the games on the same occasion on which Alcibiades was present, because they had despatched a thousand soldiers to the town of Lepreum after the truce had been proclaimed, to help the inhabitants to maintain their independence against the claims of the Eleans. In consequence of this exclusion Lychas, a wealthy Lacedæmonian, had to enter for the chariot-race in the name of the Bœotian federation. But he was so elated by the success of his chariot that he stepped into the lists and put a chaplet on the head of his driver, to show that the chariot was his, whereupon the attendants, regardless of his rank, made use of their staffs and drove him back to his proper place. On another occasion a Spartan king, Agis, was refused permission to sacrifice to or consult the oracle because he wished to pray for success in the war against Athens.

At the 104th Olympiad the peaceful solemnity of

Olympia was rudely broken by a sanguinary struggle in the sacred enclosure between the Eleans on the one hand and the Arcadians and their allies from Argos, who had taken possession of the Altis and planted a garrison on the adjoining hill. The Eleans fought bravely but were overpowered, and had the mortification of seeing the games carried out under the direction of the Pisatans, the original presidents of the festival. The outrage was aggravated by the fact that the Arcadians were not content with enriching themselves with the wealth of the Eleans, but went so far as to rob the temples and the treasuries of their precious contents. The ruins of some of these “treasuries,” as they were called, built against the side of the hill, are still to be seen. They bore the names of different Greek cities, chiefly colonies, and contained the various utensils and votive offerings that would be needed by their representatives in connection with the celebration of the games.

Even before this time (364 B.C.) the social standing of competitors in the games had begun to deteriorate, and a class of professionals had arisen who made it their sole object to develop their muscles so as to succeed in athletic contests. But even after the glory of Greece began to wane the Olympian games still held their ground. When Philip of Macedonia became supreme he sought to conciliate Hellenic sentiment and to prove himself a genuine Greek by dedicating a building in the Altis, to which his name was given. And when his son, Alexander the Great, issued a rescript, for political reasons of his own, ordaining that all Greek cities should recall their exiled sons, it was at Olympia that the proclamation was made by the herald who had gained the prize for the loudest voice, in the hearing of 20,000 exiles who had gathered there knowing what they had to expect, and of hundreds of the leading men of Greece, among them the great Athenian orator, who had striven in vain to preserve the liberties of his country.

Nearly four centuries later we find Nero contending successfully in the games, and building a palace on the border of the Altis, the remains of which have been recently discovered. The institution was finally abolished by the Emperor Theodosius in 394 A.D., the last recorded victor being an Armenian knight, who carried off the prize in the previous year.

CHAPTER IV

ARCADIA AND ITS ABORIGINES

ARCADIA held a unique place in the Peloponnesus, both as regards its physical features and the character of its inhabitants. It occupied the very centre of the peninsula, and was the only province that had no direct access to the sea. Its area was greater than that of any other, being about equal in extent to the county of Cumberland. The rural charms with which it was credited by the Latin poets, and by Sir Philip Sydney among ourselves, were largely the product of imagination, as the scenery is generally of a bleak and stern character, and the people, in consequence, are disposed to take life seriously. There are some smiling plains in the south and west, but the most of the country consists of rugged mountains and marshy valleys. A remarkable feature is the number of basins enclosed on all sides by the hills, where the streams can find no visible outlet, and either form a lake or take a subterranean course through some chasm or crevices in the porous limestone, in many cases never to reappear. The only river which forces its way through all obstacles till it reaches the sea, and has a perennial supply of water, is the Alpheus, which we have already met at Olympia. It was believed by the ancient Greeks to hold on its course after it reached the sea, and to mingle its waters with the fountain of Arethusa at Syracuse. In proof of this it was said that a cup which had been thrown into the river had afterwards been discovered in the fountain!

In classical times the Arcadians had been so long settled in the land that they were generally believed to be indigenous, and their chief city, Lycosoura, was regarded as the oldest city in Greece. On its site some colossal heads have recently been discovered that are supposed to represent Despoina (that is, Persephone), who had a temple here, Demeter, Artemis, and Anytus the Titan. The city was close to Mount Lycæus, the fabled birthplace of the Arcadian Zeus; and perhaps this fact and the similarity of the names may account for the belief in its antiquity. Here, as on Mount Ithome, Zeus seems to have been worshipped in primitive fashion without temple or image. On Mount Lycæus Pelasgus was also believed to have been born, the reputed ancestor of the primitive race which was in possession of the country before the Achæans or the Dorians made their appearance. A story is told of his son, King Lycaon, which seems to reflect the memory of a time when human sacrifices were sometimes offered. It was said that Zeus had come to detect the royal family in their wickedness, and was received with reverence by the rest of the community,

but Lycaon, being sceptical of his guest’s divinity and wishing to put it to the test, caused his grandson Arcas to be cut up and served at his table, whereupon the indignant deity at once destroyed him, his sons, and his palace with a flash of lightning, and restored Arcas to life, to take possession of the throne and give his name to the country. There were other versions of the same story. According to Pausanias “Lycaon brought a human babe to the altar of Lycæan Zeus and sacrificed it, and poured out the blood on the altar; and they say that immediately after the sacrifice he was turned into a wolf.” Pausanias’ comments on it are interesting, as an illustration of the religious views of a well-informed Greek in the second century of the Christian era. “For my own part I believe the tale: it has been handed down among the Arcadians from antiquity, and probability is in its favour. For the men of that time, by reason of their righteousness and piety, were guests of the gods, and sat with them at table; the gods openly visited the good with honour and the bad with their displeasure. Indeed, men were raised to the rank of gods in those days, and are worshipped down to the present time.... So we may well believe that Lycaon was turned into a wild beast, and Niobe, daughter of Tantalus, into a stone. But in the present age, when wickedness is growing to such a height, and spreading over every land and every city, men are changed into gods no more, save in the hollow rhetoric which flattery addresses to power; and the wrath of the gods at the wicked is reserved for a distant future, when they shall have gone hence.” By far the greater part of the observations made by this writer on Arcadia relate to its religious customs and traditions; and from the vague nature of the information he obtained regarding many of its deities and the peculiar rites with which they were worshipped, it is evident that Arcadia contained more distinct traces of the old Pelasgic religion, anterior to the theogony recognised by Homer and Hesiod, than almost any other part of Greece. It was difficult for a votary of the Hellenic religion like Pausanias to arrive at a definite conception of the names, the functions, and the outward symbols of not a few of the objects of Arcadian worship.

According to tradition Arcas had three sons, of whom the second, Apheidas, was the founder of Tegea, an aggregate of nine villages, and for a long time the most famous city in the district. He was the ancestor of Atalanta, immortalised by Euripides in connection with the Calydonian Hunt, which ranks with the Voyage of the Argonauts, the Siege of Thebes, and the Trojan War, as one of the heroic legends of Greece. It is the same Atalanta who is known to us by the story of her conquest in the foot-race by one of her suitors, Melanion, through the seductive influence of the golden apples of the Hesperides, which she stooped to pick up when he threw them in her path. After the hunt she was said to have brought home with her to Tegea the head and skin of the wild boar which Artemis had sent to ravage the Calydonian kingdom

on account of a slight offered to her in sacrifice. Whether genuine or not, the relics of the boar, in the form of a great hide, and tusks three feet long, were exhibited for centuries in the temple of Athena Alea, and a sculptured head of the boar has recently been found among the ruins, from the size of which it is calculated that the animal was six and a half feet long. The tusks were carried off to Rome by the Emperor Augustus, along with an ivory image of the goddess, but the well-worn skin was shown to Pausanias when he visited Tegea. He also saw a relief executed by the great sculptor Scopas, representing the famous hunt, on the pediment of the temple, which was rebuilt of marble after a fire, in 394 B.C., and was considered the most beautiful building of the kind in the Peloponnesus.

Echemus was another illustrious Tegean of prehistoric times, married, according to Hesiod, to a sister of Clytemnestra. He commanded the contingent of troops raised by the city to join the allied forces, Arcadian, Achæan, and Ionian, which came forth to repel the Heracleids when they were crossing the Isthmus for the purpose of invading the country. Instead of a general engagement it was agreed to settle the question by a single combat between Echemus and Hyllus, the eldest son of Heracles, from whom the challenge had come. In the encounter Hyllus was overcome and put to death, whereupon the Dorian invaders retraced their steps, and, in accordance with an agreement come to, did not again attempt the conquest of the Peloponnesus for three generations. Even when victorious they left Arcadia alone, and it continued to retain its independence for many centuries afterwards.

The Arcadians, as known to us in history, have generally been distinguished by the rude simplicity of their manners and the sturdy vigour of their physique. Intensely conservative in their ways, they were always ready to do their duty bravely when called upon to defend their country; and, like the Swiss, whom they resembled in some other points, they supplied many neighbouring states with mercenary soldiers, who were always looked upon as a valuable force. It was one of the ambitions of the Spartans to reduce them to subjection. With this view they are said to have once consulted the Delphian oracle, which gave them an unfavourable answer as regards Arcadia generally, telling them that there were many acorn-eating men there, but appeared to encourage them to try their strength against Tegea, foretelling that they would dance there and measure out the plain with a rope. Taking this in a favourable sense they advanced against Tegea, but were utterly defeated, and many of them were taken prisoners and compelled to work in the fields, wearing the very chains which, with undue confidence, they had carried with them from Sparta for the purpose of securing their expected captives. Both Herodotus and Pausanias mention having seen these chains in the temple of Athena. In the same sanctuary there was also deposited the horse’s manger, made of brass, which was found in the tent of the Persian general Mardonius by the Tegean troops who took part in the battle of Platæa, and who on that occasion claimed the place of honour next to the Lacedæmonians, on account of the signal services which had been rendered by their ancestor Echemus.

In his history (i. 67-8) Herodotus tells a curious story of the way in which the Spartans succeeded at a later time in getting the better of the Tegeans, with the help of the friendly oracle at Delphi. They were directed to bring back to Sparta the bones of Orestes, the son of Agamemnon, whose resting-place was enigmatically described. By the combined sagacity and good luck of a Spartan, named Lichas, the body, contained in a coffin measuring about seven cubits in length, was discovered in a blacksmith’s premises at Tegea, and was brought back to Sparta and buried there. The consequence was that the Spartans soon proved the stronger, compelling the Tegeans to become their allies for nearly two centuries, to which they were less averse than the rest of the Arcadians, owing to their liking for an oligarchic form of government. They still remained faithful to the general cause of Greek independence and sent 500 men to fight at Thermopylæ. For centuries after the loss of Greek liberty Tegea continued to be a place of importance. Strabo, writing in the first century A.D., speaks of it as the only city in Arcadia worth mentioning, and when Pausanias visited it he found it in a flourishing condition. There is now little to mark its site, save the scanty ruins of its famous temple and its theatre. The foundations of the temple were discovered in 1879, buried deep underground, to the west of the Church of St. Nicholas, where many fragments of Doric columns of marble had long been lying exposed to view. The inner columns were Ionic and Corinthian. The workmanship, so far as any specimens of it exist, fully justifies the admiration expressed by Pausanias.

Thirteen or fourteen miles north of Tegea, on a somewhat lower level of the same great central plain, stood the city of Mantinea, long a rival to Tegea, and possessing more of a commercial character, with a consequent leaning to the democratic form of government. Originally built on the top of a low conical hill (Gourtsouli, or Ptolis), rather less than a mile to the north, it was constituted on its later site by the union of five villages, which were amalgamated by the Argives (who dwelt only a day’s journey to the east) for the purpose of counteracting the Spartan sympathies of Tegea. It was the scene of two great battles—the one fought and gained by the Spartans under King Agis, with the help of Bœotian and Corinthian troops, the other by Epaminondas at the head of the Theban confederacy. On the former occasion a striking proof was given of the value of Spartan discipline. Though taken by surprise when he found the enemy drawn up and ready for the conflict, Agis succeeded in gaining such a victory as went far to restore the prestige of his country, which had been tarnished by recent events in the Peloponnesian war. About thirty years later

(386 B.C.) Mantinea again incurred the hostility of Sparta and experienced its military skill. The river Ophis (so called from its circuitous windings farther north), which at that time ran through the city, was diverted from its course by the Spartan general Agesipolis, and so dammed up that its waters overflowed the brick-built walls, which soon gave way, compelling the inhabitants to surrender. The community was then dissolved into the five villages of which it had been composed, a high-handed act on the part of Sparta, which was characteristic of its policy when it thought its ascendency to be in danger. One of the first results of the great Theban victory achieved by Epaminondas at Leuctra (371 B.C.) was the reunion of the scattered population. But though the Mantineans were at first in sympathy with the policy of that great soldier and statesman in seeking to create an Arcadian federation for the defence of the country against Spartan aggression, the rise of a new capital at Megalopolis excited their jealousy, and it was partly owing to their defection that Epaminondas had to undertake his last campaign in the Peloponnesus. It was in a great battle fought in the immediate vicinity of Mantinea that he met his death. Never was there a more striking proof of the influence that may be exerted by a master-mind upon an army, than when Epaminondas was suddenly struck down while fighting with heroic energy at the head of his men. As soon as they knew that he had fallen, their victorious advance ceased, and the enemy were allowed to retire without suffering the usual penalties of defeat. He was carried out of the field with a lance sticking in his breast; and a rising-ground is still pointed out (Scopas) from which he is said to have watched the close of the battle. He named two men to succeed him in the command of the forces; but, on learning that they had both fallen, he advised that peace should be concluded with the enemy. Having ascertained that his shield was safe, he ordered the javelin to be extracted, and as the blood rushed out he breathed his last. He was buried on the spot, and a monument was erected over his grave, of which no trace has yet been found.

Even if there were no such names in Greek history as Hesiod, Pindar, Pelopidas, and Plutarch, the memory of Epaminondas would be sufficient to redeem Bœotia from the reproach so often cast upon it as a land of dullards. He was not only a consummate general, whose name will always be associated with the irresistible phalanx which anticipated that of Macedonia,[2] but was in every respect a great man—the greatest of the Greeks, according to Cicero. Distinguished in music and philosophy, he was also a good speaker, and if he had had more opportunities for the practice of eloquence, he would probably have been found a match for the greatest orators of his day. We may judge of his readiness in debate from the answer he gave to Callistratus, the renowned Athenian orator, when the latter, pleading with the Arcadians to form an alliance with Athens rather than with Thebes and Argos, sought to excite prejudice against these states by asking, “Were not Orestes and Alcmæon, who were both murderers of their mothers, natives of Argos? Was not Œdipus, who slew his father and married his mother, a native of Thebes?” “Yes, they were,” said Epaminondas, in his reply, “but Callistratus has forgotten to tell you that these men, while they lived at home, were innocent or were reputed to be so. As soon as their crimes became known they were banished; and then it was that Athens received them, stained with blood.” On another occasion, when he was accused by a demagogue of trying to emulate the glories of Agamemnon at the risk of his country, by sailing from Aulis to the Hellespont at the head of a great fleet, he replied, “By the help of Thebes I have already done more than Agamemnon. He with the forces of Sparta and all Greece besides, was ten years in taking a single city; while I, with the single force of Thebes and on the single day of Leuctra, have crushed the power of the Agamemnonian Sparta.” This was answering a fool according to his folly; but, in general, he was as remarkable for his modesty as for his great powers. It was said of him by one who had been in early life a companion of Socrates that he had never known any one who understood so much and spoke so little; and when he was reduced in rank, even after the great battle which deprived Sparta of its military supremacy, he did not disdain to serve his country for a time in a comparatively humble position. That the Spartans knew how formidable he was as an adversary is evident from the honours which, as Plutarch tells us, they heaped on the man who slew him, even ordaining that his descendants in all time coming should be exempted from the payment of taxes. Like Aristides the “Just” and Delyannis, the recently-assassinated Premier of Greece, Epaminondas was so free from the love of money that he did not leave enough even to pay his funeral expenses.

Very few remains of the ancient city of Mantinea are to be seen, but the lower courses of the encircling walls, measuring more than two and a half miles in circumference, are plainly visible, with eight different gates and more than 120 towers, separated by intervals of fully 80 feet, while the course of the Ophis can also be traced, which served apparently as a moat, with its two arms running round the city. In 1887 three marble slabs were discovered in the floor of a Byzantine church within the walls, with reliefs representing the musical contest between Marsyas and Apollo, which have been identified with those mentioned by Pausanias as adorning a pedestal supporting images of Latona and her children, by Praxiteles. In the present aspect of the place, which is very much of the nature of a swamp, there is little to justify its ancient reputation as the “lovely city” mentioned in Homer.

Tegea and Mantinea and another ancient city in the neighbourhood (Pallantion) are commemorated in the city of Tripoliza (or Tripolis, the threefold city), which was founded by the Turks about two hundred years ago.