The excavations have laid bare the foundations of the many and varied types of monuments along the winding path that were set up by individuals and city-states in honor and gratitude. Small temples (called treasuries) were a particularly imposing type of dedication, erected to house expensive and precious offerings. Among the major buildings of the sanctuary were a stadium, a theater, and, of course, the great temple of Apollo himself. The Pythian games, which were celebrated every four years, included (after 582) both physical and intellectual competitions. Foot races, chariot races, musical, literary, and dramatic presentations were among the events that combined to make the festival second only to that of Zeus at Olympia. The sanctuary and the celebrations reflect much that is characteristic of Greek life and thought. The numerous dedications of triumphant victory in war mirror the narrow particularism and vehement rivalry among individual city-states, while the fact of the festivals themselves, to which all Greeks might come to honor gods common to their race, reveals the strivings toward a wider and more humane vision. Certainly the sense of competition in both athletics and the arts was vital to the Greek spirit. The importance of the physical as well as the aesthetic also suggests a fundamental duality made one and whole in the prowess and intellectuality of the god Apollo himself. The Odes of Pindar written to celebrate the glorious victors in the athletic competitions have proven to be among the most sublime lyrical outpourings of the human spirit. Physical excellence intensified a sense of physical beauty that inspired Greek artists to capture in sculpture and in painting the realism and idealism of the human form. The crystallization of the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian orders of architecture in the construction of sublime and eternal architectural forms was also inspired by religious as well as civic devotion. The spiritual and human impetus to great feats of the body and the mind is among the most wondrous achievements wrought by the Greek religious experience. The panhellenic sanctuary of Delphi was above all an oracle in the classical period. People from all over the Greek world (and even beyond) came to Apollo with questions of every sort, both personal and political. Herodotus' story of Solon and Croesus translated in article 4 bears testimony to the prestige of the god, already well-established in the sixth century, and provides primary evidence for the nature and form of his responses as well. The exact oracular procedures followed cannot be determined precisely. Not that they were secrets (like the details of dogma and ritual of the mystery religions), but because our sources are inadequate, often taking for granted an exact knowledge of Delphic practices. From all the evidence (literary, epigraphical, and archaeological), the following reconstruction may be pieced together with some degree of confidence. We cannot, however, always be sure that some of the rituals described by later authors belong to the earlier period. The assumption, rightly or wrongly, is that procedures became standardized early and remained essentially the same. The Pythia (prophetess of Apollo) uttered the responses of the god. Her seat of prophecy was the tripod, a bowl supported by three metal legs. A tripod was a utensil of everyday life; a fire could be lit beneath or inside the bowl and it could be used for many obvious practical purposes. The tripod at Delphi was both a symbol and a source of divine prophetic power. Ancient pottery depicts Apollo himself seated on the bowl; his pythian priestess who does likewise becomes his mouthpiece. In a frenzy of inspiration she utters her incoherent ravings.

A priest or prophet nearby will transcribe them into intelligible prose or verse (usually dactylic hexameters) to be communicated to the inquirer. Preliminary to the Pythia's response was the elicitation of the proper auspices for prophecy. A goat, which was subsequently sacrificed, had to display signs of trembling in all its limbs (the sprinkling of cold water on the animal was an inducement), just as later the Pythia would be racked in the same way during her prophetic ecstasies. The Pythia herself underwent certain initial ceremonies to ensure purification and inspiration, among them a ritual cleansing with the sacred water of the famous Castalian spring, Some of our sources maintain that the Pythia's inspiration came from the vaporous outpourings from a chasm or cave and depict the priestess seated on the tripod above some such cleft or opening. Unfortunately, the west end of Apollo's temple (where she uttered her responses) is so badly preserved in the excavations that it cannot be reconstructed with certainty. Here in the innermost shrine (the adyton) are we to imagine stairs descending to a crypt below and perhaps as well a cleft (it would have to be small) from which vapors arose? On the seventh day of each month (except for three months in the winter) the oracle was open. The inquirer who came to the temple with his question for the god had to go through certain prescribed ceremonies that were in the nature of a fee. First he must offer an expensive sacred cake on the altar outside the temple, and once he had entered he was required to sacrifice a sheep or goat, a portion of which went to the Delphians. After these preliminaries he could enter the holy of holies, the innermost shrine of the temple, where he would take his seat. The sequence depended on the prestige of the inquirer and the lot. The chief priest or prophet addressed the questions to the Pythia and, as we have already mentioned, interpreted her answers. The Pythia herself may have been in a room separated from the inquirers or perhaps (as we have seen) even in a crypt on a lower level. The adyton proper was decked with impressive religious objects: the sacred lyre and armor of Apollo, the Omphalos set upon a rectangular base, a golden statue of Apollo himself, and the tomb of Dionysus. According to tradition the Pythia was a young virgin in early times. But on one occasion an inquirer fell in love with one and seduced her. From then on only mature women (probably over fifty years old) could become priestesses; whatever the nature of their previous life (they could have been married), purity was required once they had been appointed for life to serve the god.

At times one from among at least three women could be called upon to prophesy, and there were probably more in reserve. The first Pythia, who is named Phemonoe (Prophetic Mind), is a poetic figure; we have from Herodotus the names of later ones (Aristonice and Perallus), historically much more real. Inevitably one must wonder about the religious sincerity of the priests and priestesses at Delphi. Was it all a fraud? There is no good reason to think so. Many people have believed in the possibility of god communicating with man in marvelous ways. And belief in a medium, a person with special mantic gifts, is by no means unique to the Greeks. The Pythia presumably was chosen because of her special nature and religious character-she was susceptible to supernatural callings. It is true that often the oracle was on the side of political expediency and that the ambiguity of the responses was notorious. Apollo's obscure epithet, Loxias, was thought to bear testimony to the difficult and devious nature of his replies. But one has only to glance at the life and career of a Socrates to realize the sincere and inner religious meaning that the intellectually devout is able to wrest from the material trappings of established institutions in any society. Socrates' friend Chaerephon went to Delphi to inquire who was the wisest of men. The answer was t 6 Socrates," and when the philosopher was informed he could not rest until he had determined the meaning of the response and proved the god right. If we are to take the Apology at all literally and historically (and why not?), this message from Apollo provided a turning point for Socrates in his divine missionary-like zeal to make men think of eternal moral and ethical values in terms of their immortal souls, The Pythia is the specific title given to the priestess of Apollo at Delphi. A more generic term for prophetess was Sibyl, and many Sibyls were found at various places in various periods in the ancient world. Originally the title was probably the proper name (Sibylla) of an early prophetess. At any rate the Sibyls at Cumae were among the most famous mediums of antiquity. The description of the Cumaean Sibyl as she prophesies to Aeneas helps us understand the nature of the communication of a prophetess with her god, even though we must allow for poetic imagination. This Sibyl is Deiphobe, daughter of Glaucus, priestess of the temple of Phoebus Apollo and Diana. The innermost shrine of the temple is a cavern from which the responses issue (Vergil, Aeneid 6. 42-51): The vast end of the temple built in Euboean stone is cut out into a cavern; here are a hundred perforations in the rock, a hundred mouths from which the many utterances rush, the answers of the Sibyl. They had come to the threshold, when the virgin cried: "Now is the time to demand the oracles, the god, behold, the god!" She spoke these words in front of the doors and her countenance and color changed; her hair shook free, her bosom heaved, and her heart swelled in wild fury; she seemed of greater stature and her cries were not mortal as she was inspired by the breath of the god drawing nearer. Later follows the metaphor of a wild horse trying to throw its rider (77-82): Not yet willing to endure Apollo, the prophetess raged within the cavern in her frenzy, trying to shake the mighty god from her breast; all the more he wore out her ravings, mastering her wild heart and fashioning her to his will by constraint.

Now the hundred mouths of the cavern opened wide of their own accord and bore the responses of the prophetess to the breezes. After her prophecies are reported the metaphor is continued (98- 10 1) : With such words the Cumaean Sibyl chants her terrifying riddles and from the innermost shrine of the cavern truth resounded enveloped in obscurity, as Apollo applied the reins to her raving and twisted the goad in her breast. Earlier in the Aeneid (3. 445) the seer Helenus had warned Aeneas that the Sibyl wrote her prophecies on leaves that were carefully arranged. But when the doors of the cavern were opened, these leaves were scattered by the wind so that those who had come for advice left without help and hated the dwelling of the Sibyl. Thus Aeneas asks (6. 74-76) that the Sibyl utter the prophecies herself and not entrust them to the leaves. All this may be an oblique reference to some characteristic of the Sibylline books (collections of prophecies of the Sibyls that the Romans consulted) and the way in which they were interpreted. Ovid has the Sibyl tell Aeneas the story of her fate (Metamorphoses 14. 132-53): Eternal life without end would have been given me if I had yielded my virginity to Phoebus Apollo who loved me. He hoped that I would and desired to bribe me with gifts, so he said: "Virgin maid of Cumae, choose what you desire; you will attain whatever it is." I picked up a heap of sand, showed it to him and asked for the vain wish that I might have as many birthdays as the individual grains in my hand. I forgot to ask for continuous youth along with the years. He would have given me both, long life and eternal youth, if I had succumbed to his love. But I despised Phoebus' gift and I remain unmarried. And now the happier time of youth is gone and sick old age has come with its feeble steps and I must endure it for a long time. For now as you see I have lived through seven generations; there remain for me to witness three hundred harvests, three hundred vintages in order to equal in years the number of grains of sand. The time will be when length of days will have reduced me from my former stature and make me small and my limbs consumed by age will be diminished to the tiniest weight. And I shall not seem like one who was pleasing to a god and loved by him. Even Phoebus himself perhaps either will not recognize me or will deny that he once desired me; I shall be changed to such an extent that I shall be visible to no one but I shall be recognized by my voice; the Fates will leave me my voice. Another version (Petronius Satyricon 48.8) has it that the tiny thing the Sibyl became was suspended in a bottle. Boys asked: "Sibyl, what do you want?" Her answer was: "I want to die." Priam's daughter, Cassandra, a pathetic figure in the Trojan saga, was another of Apollo's loves and a prophetess. She agreed to give herself to Apollo and as a reward the god bestowed upon her the power of prophecy. But Cassandra changed her mind and rejected his advances. Apollo asked for one kiss and spat in her mouth. He did not revoke his gift, but thereafter Cassandra was doomed to prophesy in vain, for no one would believe her. Nearly all Apollo's affairs (and they are numerous) are in one way or another tragic; he is perhaps the most touchingly human and the most terrifyingly sublime of all the Greek gods. A notable exception is his success with Cyrene, an athletic nymph, with whom Apollo fell in love as he saw her wrestling with a lion. He whisked her away in his golden chariot to Libya, to the very site of the city that would be given her name, and she bore to him a son, Aristaeus. The story of Apollo's love for Daphne explains why the laurel (Daphne is the Greek word for laurel) was sacred to him.