CHAPTER XXX.
THE CONDITION OF EXILE.
The story that Callias had heard of the last days of his Master, andheard, of course, with many details which it is now impossible toreproduce, made, it need hardly be said, a profound impression on him.First and foremost--and this was what the dead man himself would havebeen most rejoiced to see--was the profound conviction that thisteaching, inspired, as it was, with a faith which the immediate prospectof death had not been able to shake, was absolutely true. The young mancan hardly be said to have had any feeling of religion in the sense inwhich we understand that word. To believe in the fables, grotesque oreven immoral, which made up the popular theology, in gods who were onlyexaggerated men, stronger, indeed, but more cruel, treacherous, andlustful, was an impossibility. The poets' tales of the Elysian plain andof the abyss of Tartarus had in no wise helped towards producing anyemotions of the spiritual kind, any wish to dwell in an invisible world.The most sacred of these poets in his description of that world asanother earth in which everything was feebler, paler, less satisfyingthan it is here, had certainly repelled rather than attracted him. Nowthis want had been supplied; the lofty teaching of duty, duty owed tocountry, kinsfolk, friends, fellow-citizens, fellow-men, that he hadheard from the Master was now supplemented and sanctioned by this clearenunciation of a doctrine of immortality. The young man felt that hecould face the world, whether it brought him prosperity or adversity,joy or sorrow, life or death, with a more equable soul or more assuredspirit than he had ever dreamed could be possible.
His immediate duty, however, was less clear. When his country lay underthe heel of the Spartan conqueror, Hermione had pointed out to him--notwithout sacrifice of herself, as he sometimes could not help feeling,what he owed to the city that had given him birth. But now, how did thecase stand? Athens had suffered a second, a more fatal fall. She mightrepair her losses; she might retrieve defeat. But when she haddefinitely broken with right and truth, had deliberately chosen theworse rather than the better, what hope, what remedy was there? And whatwas the obligation on himself? Could he aspire to a career in a Statewhich was so false to all the principles of life and government?
The two or three days that followed the conversation related in my lastchapter were spent by the young Athenian in debating with himself thequestion: What am I to do? But the more he thought over the problem, themore complex and intricate did it seem to become. Just when he wasbeginning to despair, a solution, rude and peremptory, but satisfactoryin so far as it admitted of no questioning, was forced upon him.
He had just risen on the morning of the fourth day, when a visitor wasannounced. It was Xenophon, looking, as Callias thought, serious, butnot depressed.
"And what have you been doing these three days?" cried the newcomer.
"Thinking," replied Callias.
"That is exactly what I have been doing myself, and I would wager mychance of being Archon next year, a very serious stake indeed, that wehave had the same subject for our thoughts. You have been debating withyourself what you are to do?"
"Exactly so; and I am no nearer a conclusion than I was when I began."
"Well, some one else has been good enough to save us the trouble ofdeciding. Listen to this. I have a friend in office, I should tell you,and he has given me an early copy of what will be soon known all overAthens. 'It is proposed by Erasinides, son of Lysias, of the township ofColonus, that Xenophon, son of Grythus, of the township of Orchia, andCallias, son of Hipponicus, of the township of Eleusis,' and some twentyothers, whose names I need not trouble you with, 'be banished fromAthens for unpatriotic conduct, especially in aiding and abetting thedesigns of Cyrus, who was a notorious enemy of the Athenian people.'Well; that is going to be proposed to the Senate to-day. My friend, whoknows all about the strings, and how they are pulled, tells me that itis certain to be carried. In the course of a few days it will be broughtbefore the Assembly, and I have no doubt whatever that it will beaccepted."
"But what have the Athenian people got to do with Cyrus, who is dead andgone, and can neither help nor hurt?"
"Ah! you don't understand. The Lacedaemonians, you know, have declaredwar against the Persian King. Of course that gives the Athenians achance of becoming his friends. It is true that things are not ripe justyet for anything decisive or public. We are allies with theLacedaemonians, and can't venture to quarrel with them. But this is amatter at which they cannot take offence, but which will most certainlyplease the Great King. He has not forgotten the Cyrus business, you maydepend upon it, and it will delight him to hear of any, who had a partin it suffering for their act. That is why we are to be banished. It isdisgraceful, I allow, to find a great city banishing its citizens inorder to curry favor with the barbarians; but it is a fact, and we musttake it into account."
"And what shall you do?"
"I shall go to Asia. I had intended to go in any case, for I haveprivate affairs there, nothing less important, I may tell you inconfidence, than marrying a wife. Then I shall find something to do withthe Spartans, among whom I have some very good friends. Come with me.You too, might find a wife; that will be as you please; but anyhow I canguarantee you employment."
"I confess," said Callias, after meditating awhile, "that I do not feelgreatly drawn by what you suggest. As for the wife, that prospect doesnot please me at all; and, as you know, I am not so much of aSpartan-lover[91] as you. You must let me think about it; you shallhave a final answer to-morrow."
When Xenophon had taken leave, Callias went straight to Hippocles, andhappened to arrive just as a messenger was leaving the house with a noteaddressed to himself, and asking for an early visit. Callias relatedwhat he had just heard from Xenophon.
"You do not surprise me. In fact I also have had a private intimationfrom a member of the Senate that this is going to be done, and it isexactly the matter about which I wished to see you. But tell me, whatdoes Xenophon advise?"
Callias told him.
"And you hesitate about accepting his offer?"
"Yes; I do more than hesitate; I feel more and more averse to it themore I think of it."
"You are right; to take service with the Spartans must, almost ofnecessity, mean, sooner or later, some collision with your own country.It was this that ruined Alcibiades. If he could only have had patience,he could have saved himself and the Athenians too, but that visit toSparta ruined both. No; I should advise you against Xenophon'ssuggestion."
"But where am I to go? I have thought of Syracuse. But I do not care togo back to Dionysius. He was all courtesy and kindness; but I feltsuffocated in the air of his court. And we never feel quite safe with atyrant."
"I have thought of something else that might suit you. I am going tostart in a few days' time on a visit to my own native country, not toPoseidonia--I could not bear to see the barbarians masters there--butto Italy. There are other Greek cities which still hold their own, andthey are well worth seeing. You might, too, if you choose, pay anothervisit to Rome. You will at least have the advantage of being out of thisdismal round of strife to which Greece itself seems doomed. Ourcountrymen there have, I know, faults of their own; but they do contriveto live on tolerably good terms with each other."
The plan proposed seemed to Callias to promise better than any that hecould think of and he accepted the offer with thankfulness. A few daysafterwards he was gazing for what he felt might well be the last time atthe city of his birth. Bathed in the sunshine of a summer morning stoodthe Acropolis, crowned with its marble temples, and, towering above all,the gigantic statue of Athene the Champion, her outstretched spear-pointflashing in the light. What glories he was leaving behind him! What losthopes, what unfulfilled aspirations of his own! The tears of no unmanlyemotion were in his eyes as he turned away, but not before he had caughtsight of a well-known house by the harbor of Piraeus. This seemed to bethe last drop of bitterness in his cup. She had lost him for hiscountry's sake, and now he had lost her, too. He turned and foundhimself face to face with Hermione! There wa
s something in her lookwhich made his heart thrill; but she did not give him time to speak.
"Callias," she said, "you gave up what you said was dear to me," and herblush deepened as she spoke, "for Athens' sake. But now--if you have notforgotten--"
He needed to hear no more. The next moment, careless of the eyes of theold helmsman, he had clasped her in his arms.
"I can allow myself to love the exile," she whispered in his ear.
FOOTNOTES:
[91] The Greek _philo-lacon_. The word had been applied to Cimon, son ofMiltiades, who had always been a popular statesman and so might be usedin a friendly way. If Callias had spoken of Xenophon as disposed to_laconismus_ it would have been almost an affront, this word meaning notso much admiration of Spartan ways of life as devotion to Spartaninterests.
Callias: A Tale of the Fall of Athens Page 30
