And the reason was the holy sanction given them. It might be of the last importance to the several states that their young men should be for ever training themselves, keeping their bodies in subjection, strengthening their thews, their muscles, and their nerves, so that at each returning festival they might maintain the glory of their native towns or villages, and prepare themselves to fight when called on for their liberties. That was, indeed, a great thing, and had an influence on every man and boy, and woman too, within them. But the first thought that ran through all was to do honour to the gods, who in their various temples deigned to be present and accept the services and sacrifices that were offered to them. And this, the ninetieth Olympiad, was for many reasons peculiarly grand. First came the Korinthian theori, with their four-horse chariot, destined to run in the chief race, with their chanters and musicians, as well as their athletes, in magnificent array. Ere they had been received by the presiding priest and his attendant train, the smaller company that had come from the island of Chios was seen descending from the north-east of the Olympic hill, which protected that side of the natural amphitheatre. Lesbos came next, then Kyzikos from the distant Propontis. And then processions from all the different Ionian and Doric Grecian towns, from all except from Sparta. Each was distinguished by its own style of dress, which differed in some respects from that of the others; each with its athletes and its chorus; most of them with their racing chariots. When they were all assembled, some began to sneer at Athens, saying that after all her boasting they doubted if she would appear at all, being too proud to make a humble show, too impoverished to make a great one. When all were welcoming friends long unmet, kinsmen, and old acquaintances, and there was a general feeling of expectancy, a stir arose among them, a consciousness of something coming, and over the highest road appeared the foreguard of the architheorus of Athens. He was drawn superbly in his equipage of state. Then followed the renowned athletes, the well-known champions with the diskos, the wrestlers, boxers, runners, whose names were known as household words in all the Grecian cities. Then came the four-horse chariot of the state, which also would contend in the great chariot race, the crowning contest of the sports. So the Athenians’ stately show came on. Those who had jeered were silent; all saw that Athens meant to do her best, and would, an she could, still show herself the first of all. But then appeared a wondrous thing—another chariot with four bays, driven by Tolas, the famous charioteer, now in the service of Alkibiades, and surrounded by his retainers.