With Pindar it is different. He is a prophet with a theory of life which he applies to everything of which he sings, to the stories of gods and heroes, or to the deeds of men. He has, too, a high conception of the poet’s office, which is to give to all excellence that immortal fame which should be the chief incentive to all noble deeds. It has been said that to be an athlete and the father of athletes is for Pindar the highest reach of human ambition. The criticism is unfair for two reasons. In the first place, it takes account only of a portion of Pindar’s work. He is said to have written poems of ten different classes, most of them connected with the worship of the gods. Of nine of these classes we possess but a few fragments; only the epinikia have survived. In the epinikia the poet’s theme is necessarily the praise of winners at the games, in other words the praise of youth, and early manhood. But Pindar himself recognizes clearly that every age has its own excellence. The virtues of the old are good counsel and prudence, those of youth are courage and endurance. “By trial is the issue manifest,”[[116]] and the virtues of youth are proved in battle,[[117]] or in the peaceful contests of the games, which are, as we have seen, the training of the citizen for the sterner contests of war. Secondly, the word “athlete” is ambiguous. It suggests too much the professional athlete of a later age, the man who, from selfish and mercenary motives, devoted his whole life to athletics and who, as Euripides tells us, was after his prime “useless as a worn-out coat.” But the well-born youths and princes for whom Pindar sang were actuated by no mercenary motives, but by that pure love of physical effort and of competition which is natural to all healthy youth. “The shepherd, and the ploughman, the fowler, and he whom the sea feedeth, strive but to keep fierce famine from their bellies; but whoso in the games or in war hath won delightful fame, receiveth the highest of rewards in fair words of citizens and of strangers.”[[118]]

What then are the qualities of Pindar’s athlete? They are summed up in that most typical of all his athletic odes, the 11th Olympian, in honour of Agesidamus of Epizephyrian Locri, the winner of the boys’ boxing match in the great Ol. 76. “If one be born with excellent gifts, then may another who sharpeneth his natural edge, speed him, God helping, to an exceeding weight of glory. Without toil there have triumphed a very few.”

Firstly and above all the athlete must be born “with excellent gifts.” Strength and beauty are the gifts of Zeus, of the graces, of fate. They are bestowed especially on members of ancient and honourable families, and Pindar as a true aristocrat delights to enumerate the great deeds of the victor’s ancestors in war and sport. He has, too, to the full, the artist’s appreciation of physical beauty, and he never tires of describing it. But physical beauty must be matched by beautiful deeds; the athlete must not shame his beauty. Natural gifts imply the duty of developing them, and excellence can only be attained, God helping, by “cost and toil.”[[119]] Here, as Professor Gildersleeve has well said, Pindar gives a moral dignity to athletics; for the cost and toil are undertaken not by compulsion or for selfish motives but for fame. Even the desire for fame is not selfish. Victory is a delight and honour to the victor’s city, to his family, even to his dead ancestors. Moreover, the true sportsman “delights” in the toil and cost.

Fig. 18. Charioteer. Delphi. (Greek Sculpture, Fig. 138.)

The expense of competing in the chariot and horse races was naturally far heavier than that of competing in athletic events; yet even the latter involved considerable sacrifice of time and money, and the services of the famous trainers mentioned by the poets must have been dearly bought. The toil, too, was not unaccompanied by risk. More than two-thirds of Pindar’s victors won their crowns in wrestling, boxing, or the pankration, events which involved no little danger to limb, if not to life. The chariot-race had been equally dangerous in days when the owners drove their own chariots. In Pindar’s time this was no longer the rule. We could hardly expect a Hieron or a Gelon to compete in person, any more than we could expect to find one of our own horse owners riding his own horse in the Derby. Yet we still find the owner occasionally acting as charioteer,[[120]] and more frequently still some son or younger member of his family.[[121]] Such, it seems likely, was the aristocratic youth whose bronze statue has been recently discovered by the French at Delphi[[122]] (Fig. [18]). The element of risk must always add a zest to sport, and it certainly does in Pindar’s eyes. “Deeds of no risks,” he says, “are honourless whether done among men or among hollow ships.”[[123]] It follows then that the most necessary qualities for an athlete are courage and endurance. On the latter virtue Pindar, like his countrymen generally, insists even more than on courage, perhaps because the Greeks felt the need of it more. Heracles for example, Pindar’s ideal athletic hero, is a “man of unbending spirit.” Yet neither physical strength nor endurance is sufficient without skill, and skill can only be obtained by constant practice under skilful teachers.

In the old days athletic skill had been handed down in noble families from father to son; such families still existed. Lampon of Aegina, the father of two athletes, Phylacidas and Pytheas,[[124]] is described as a “whetstone among athletes,” bestowing practice on all that he does, and exhorting his sons to follow the precept of Hesiod, “Practice perfects the deed.” His son Phylacidas, too, is commended for his training of his younger brother Pytheas. More often, however, the services of a professional trainer were called in. Thus Pytheas owed his victory largely to the Athenian trainer Menander. But though training can help to develop natural gifts, without natural gifts it can do little. “The natural,” says Pindar, “is ever best.”[[125]]

But when athlete and trainer have done their best, the issue still rests in the hands of the gods. Pindar, like Aeschylus, is deeply religious, and regards the gods as the moral rulers of the world. Every good gift of mind or body, every excellence comes from the gods, and victory is bestowed on those who are pleasing to them. Man wins their favour partly by piety, by observance of their festivals and offerings at their altars, but still more by such conduct as averts their jealousy. Their jealousy is excited by all excess, by pride and insolence; it is appeased by that attitude of mind which is expressed by that untranslatable and indefinable word αἰδώς. Aidos is the direct opposite of ὕβρις or insolence; it is the feeling of respect for what is due to the gods, to one’s fellowmen, to oneself, a feeling that begets a like feeling towards oneself in others. It is the spirit of reverence, of modesty, of courtesy. Above all it is the sense of honour, and as such inspires the athlete and the soldier, distinguishing them from the bully and the oppressor. Strength may tempt its owner to abuse it; success may engender “braggart insolence.”[[126]] But aidos puts into men’s hearts “valour and the joy of battle.”[[127]] Aidos, mark, not passion, aidos, the child of forethought, and therefore the true man feels for his might “aidos,” which prevents him from abusing it.[[128]] Hence while the bully inspires terror and loathing, the warrior and the athlete win in the sight of citizens and strangers grace and honour (αἰδοία χάρις).[[129]]

In sport aidos is that scrupulous sense of honour and fairness, which is of the essence of that much abused word “a sportsman.” No sports demand so high a sense of honour as boxing and wrestling, the events which, with the pankration, were most popular in Greece, and no sports are therefore so liable to abuse and corruption. It is aidos which makes a man a “straight fighter,” εὐθυμάχας, the epithet with which Pindar describes the boxer Diagoras of Rhodes, “who walks in the straight path that abhors insolence.”[[130]] The commercial spirit is incompatible with this feeling. “Aidos is stolen away by secret gains,”[[131]] says Pindar in his praise of Chromius of Aetna. Was he thinking of the scandal aroused a few years before by Astylus of Croton when for the sake of gain he proclaimed himself a Syracusan? It is tempting to suppose so. The resentment that this conduct caused was at least a healthy sign. Further, aidos is akin to and includes the principle of self-control, σωφροσύνη, which is implied in Pindar’s favourite doctrine of the mean,[[132]] and which plays so important a part in the philosophy of the next century. The self-control of the athlete was a commonplace, but aidos is something more subtle, more indefinable, more effective than any rule or principle; and the comprehension of it helps us to understand how even sports which seem at first sight brutal are yet under the special patronage of those fair-haired graces who, in Professor Gildersleeve’s expressive phrase, “give and grace the victory,” “from whom come unto men all pleasant things and sweet, and the wisdom of man and his beauty and the splendour of his fame.”[[133]]

Such an ideal could not fail to exercise a lasting influence on athletics. Literature and art increased the popularity of athletics by appealing not merely with new force to the old motives of patriotism and religion but also to the growing aesthetic feeling of the race. To this may be ascribed the importance which the Greeks ascribed to style and grace. It was not sufficient, for example, to throw an opponent in wrestling, it had to be done in style and with skill. The cult of style grew sometimes, it would seem, almost into affectation. Aelian tells a story of a trainer, Hippomachus, who hearing the crowd applaud a pupil of his for throwing his opponent, at once chastised him, saying that he must have done something wrong, for the people would never have cheered a scientific throw.[[134]] We do not know the date of Hippomachus, but the story undoubtedly illustrates a tendency which actually existed.