by Rex Warner
As for the bitterness and violence of Ephialtes, some people have attributed them to the fact that he came of an undistinguished family of only moderate means; and it is certainly true that people of great abilities born in low stations are apt to resent what seems to them a personal injustice. But there was none of this meanness about Ephialtes. He was never bitter in his personal relationships. Pericles was often able to help him financially and for this help he was always grateful, never resentful. Certainly if any of his political opponents had received such help, he would have described it as bribery. For himself it was sufficient that he knew for a certainty that he could not be bribed. Thus it was natural and easy for him to accept with gratitude the gifts of a friend. Had he been rich and Pericles poor, he would have expected Pericles to have behaved in the same way.
How often have I admired the fine bodies and the eager looks of these two as they wrestled together! They were not lovers. Pericles, as I have said, was, like Kimon, strangely attached to girls and women. Though his friendship for boys and men was passionate and sincere, he did not seem to feel the need for that physical intimacy which most of us desire. Sophocles was, I think, the one in our circle who was most addicted to the love of boys. I have seen him sick and shaking with desire; yet towards each object of his affections he invariably conducted himself with infinite grace, charm and consideration.
As for my own love affairs at this time, I can remember them to this day clearly enough, but it would be irrelevant to discuss them here. I should, however, say something of the contribution that I was able to make to this circle of brilliant, passionate and beautiful young men. I was a little older than most of them and I was not an Athenian citizen, although I was as interested in Athenian politics as any of them. They liked me, I know, for myself; but they valued me particularly because of my knowledge of and enthusiasm for philosophy. Indeed, at this time in Athens it was never difficult to find an audience of people eager to learn about and to discuss the theories formed and the discoveries made in Ionia during the preceding two generations.
I was, I think, the first Ionian with some knowledge of these things to reside in Athens. I found that, though many people were acquainted with the works of Anaximander and Anaximenes, scarcely anyone had heard of Heracleitus of Ephesus. His doctrine is, of course, obscure. Sometimes he writes like a kind of intelligent prophet rather than as a true natural scientist. Yet his work is both original and inspiring. In the development of my own philosophy I have found it much more helpful than that of Empedocles of Sicily (who makes the extraordinary assumption that he is divine) or even that of Parmenides, expert logician as he is. At this time, however, neither Empedocles nor Parmenides had been heard of, whereas Heracleitus had written even before the battle of Marathon. It was of him in particular that these young Athenian friends of mine wished to hear. First, I think, they were impressed by the daring and vigor of his language. I could see their eyes light up when I quoted to them such sayings as “If you do not expect the unexpected, you will not find it,” or “It is the opposite which is good for us,” or “Strife is justice.”
For hours we would discuss the meanings which the words were intended to convey and I would observe how, as a rule, each man tended to appropriate to himself the meaning which best fitted his own character. Ephialtes, for instance, would constantly quote with approval the sentence “The people must fight for its laws as for its walls,” while he would wholly disregard other sayings of Heracleitus which were of an anti-democratic character. Pericles, on the other hand, would attempt to grasp the thought of Heracleitus as a whole. Indeed, though he saw everything distinctly, he saw everything within wide horizons. He was the only politician I have known who considered politics a part of a general view of life, of morals of the universe. Nor did this generality of his thought impair the practical impact which he made. His vision of the whole gave him force and strength as he approached the detail.
I should like to believe that in these early years I was of some help to him in the finding and defining of his vision of the whole. It was in these years that I was beginning to develop my own system of philosophy, and, as I did so, I believe I influenced Pericles in several ways. Not that he accepted as proven facts any of my theories with regard to the nature of the universe. I am reluctant to accept them myself as wholly adequate. What really impressed his thought and imagination was the size of the problem, the number and extent of worlds, limited or unlimited, and the necessity of finding, or at least looking for, in this infinitive variety of apparent chaos and contradiction a principle of order and discrimination. We could not find such a principle in the writings of Heracleitus, though these writings seemed to us to be constantly verging upon the truth. We admired the view that the universe is based upon tension and opposition, but we wished to go further, and we found that beyond the point where we could understand him Heracleitus would use terms that were symbolic rather than concrete. He speaks of rivers or of fire; but in fact the universe does not consist of rivers or of fire, any more than it consists of air or water, as the early Ionian philosophers believed.
You know that I still bear the nickname that Pericles gave me — “Old Intelligence.” Even today the children of Lampsacus shout it after me in the streets. I am glad to say that they use it affectionately and, indeed, always treat me with the deference due to my years. And I on my side am fond of them. They remind me of the boys I used to know in Athens when I was young; and, if I were to be awarded any honor after my death, the honor that I should prefer would be that my anniversary be kept as a holiday for the school children of your town. This, however, is by the way. Here it is only the nickname that concerns us, and this, though it was playfully and affectionately used then as now, was and is still taken seriously.
I should be the last to boast of my discoveries and the first to admit that they are incomplete. But it is a fact that I was the first philosopher to suggest that the principle of motion, change, becoming and creation in the universe is to be found in intelligence. It is the highest thing of which we know; and it seems natural to regard the higher rather than the lower as the supreme cause. However, I shall not discuss my philosophy here. All I wish to say is that this idea of intelligence as the guiding and creative force making and maintaining world after world was an idea which made a very great impression on Pericles. And, as the theory developed, he was quick to see that this intelligence, interpenetrating what is, bringing form out of formlessness, life out of the inanimate, must be something that never rests, something always active, always advancing. Without this constant activity, not only would all life cease to exist, but all distinction; there would be no separation of the rare from the dense, the warm from the cold, the light from the dark.
Now I would suggest (indeed I know) that Pericles shared with me some such view of the world as this and that this view (or something like it) not only gave grandeur to his political utterances but actually, in a way, determined his politics. These were always dynamic, never quiescent; and I have often wondered whether he deliberately intended Athens to represent in the civilized world lust that intelligence which creates and sustains the world of nature.
I think that I may also claim that it was partly owing to any influence that Pericles became one of the few statesmen of our time who was keenly interested in science and absolutely devoid of superstition. In those early days used to do a lot of experimental work. Not that I have ever believed that the evidence of our senses is final. Such a proposition is absurd. The underlying structure of things is beyond the reach of our senses and can only be grasped, if at all, by pure thought. Nevertheless, the evidence of our senses, if properly interpreted, is always useful and can be decisive. Moreover, I can imagine that the powers of our senses may in time be increased. If, for example, it were possible to construct some instrument which would enormously magnify the power of the eye, one might be able quite definitely to prove my theory (for which indeed there is much evidence already) that the heavenly bodies are i
n no way divine, but are made of matter like that of the earth on which we live. And there are many quite simple experiments which are sufficient to disprove the extravagant claims made by soothsayers and diviners.
I remember one such experiment distinctly. It was some years after the time of which I have been writing, when there was particularly bitter party strife in Athens, the two parties being led by Pericles on the one hand and Thucydides, the son of Melesias, on the other. At this time Pericles’s farm steward sent him the head of a one-horned ram which had been born on his estate. The head arrived at a moment when Pericles was in conversation with me and with the soothsayer Lampon, a pompous and indeed ridiculous man, for whom Pericles had no real regard, though he found him useful politically, since he had a great reputation among the superstitious masses of the Athenians and he was apt to produce oracles and prophesies which were adapted to Pericles’s own interests. The stupidity of the man is shown by the fact that he himself actually believed in these prophecies to which he owed his advancement. So, on this occasion, as soon as he saw the head of the ram with one horn he leaped to his feet and, putting on the kind of incantatory voice which was intended to suggest that he was divinely inspired, announced that the omen was sent by the gods and that its meaning was that instead of there being two parties in the state there should be one. The fact that the ram had appeared on Pericles’s land indicated that it would be the party led by Pericles which would survive. Pericles, of course, listened to this performance as though he were impressed by it and saw that Lampon’s words were widely publicized. But he showed a much more genuine interest when I suggested that we should dissect the animal’s head, and he watched me closely as I performed the operation. I was able, of course, to demonstrate that the appearance of one horn was due to natural causes. It was a somewhat complicated chain of argument which Pericles followed easily and which was wholly beyond the comprehension of Lampon, who on this occasion as on many others accused me of impiety. The fact that his prophecy came true no doubt confirmed him in his superstition. He was indeed quite a source of amusement to Pericles and me, though in public Pericles always gave the impression of treating the man seriously, just as in all his military campaigning and in public life generally he was careful to observe the conventional forms of religious observance, little though he believed in their efficacy. Nor could this attitude of his be called hypocritical. In almost any belief, he would say, there is to be found some portion of truth and satisfaction; and if a powerful mind will naturally reject many accepted ideas as worthless, this does not mean that for other minds, less enlightened, these same ideas may not be useful and even, in a sense, true.
We talked much about religion, much about science and philosophy in those early years. But of course Pericles was not satisfied with theory. His life was certain to be active and he began to act early. He was often away from Athens, serving in those expeditions which were now setting out every year, usually under the command of Kimon, to raid Persian territory or liberate those Greek towns which were still garrisoned by Persians, and he won a great reputation for personal bravery and for intelligent leadership. At the age of twenty-two he made himself known to the general public by offering to pay the expenses for the production of four plays at the spring festival. It was a characteristic and a significant gesture. The fact that so young a man should volunteer for this public service impressed people with his generosity and his patriotism. Moreover, the production itself was unusually splendid and thoroughly deserved to win the prize.
The poet for whose chorus Pericles paid was Aeschylus, and one of the plays he wrote for this occasion was the famous The Persians. It is, as you know, a magnificent piece of patriotic writing, and Aeschylus, of course, was a far greater dramatist than Phrynichus, who had previously handled the subject of Salamis. Also, in coming forward as the financial supporter of a play on this subject, Pericles was making clear the direction of his political sympathies, for it is impossible to think of Salamis without thinking of Themistocles. Aeschylus, of course, was too great a poet to write a play in which any great stress was laid on political propaganda, nor did Pericles attempt to persuade him to insert a single line for such a purpose. But Aeschylus himself had fought at Marathon and at Salamis. To him these were still the great days, and though I think he disapproved of Themistocles on personal grounds, he was too fair a man to deny his greatness. And at this moment it was fashionable to speak ill of Themistocles. His powerful enemies, including many members of Pericles’s own family, had, as Ephialtes had foreseen, finally succeeded in getting rid of him. Early in the year he had been ostracized and sent into exile for a presumed period of ten years. At the time when The Persians was produced he was living in Argos, a state which has always been in uneasy rivalry with Sparta, and it was already being said that his presence there was causing the Spartan government considerable anxiety. He had never disguised his contempt for the Spartan way of life, and though he must have been angry enough with his enemies in Athens, he still looked forward to his return there. So, with his restless intelligence and his great diplomatic skill, he had begun to lay the basis for an alliance between Argos and Athens directed against Sparta. And at the time when The Persians was performed in Athens there were many Athenians who already regretted having cast their votes against him at the ostracism.
In fact, however, Themistocles’s brilliant career was almost over. He had made too many enemies and too few friends in his own generation, and those ardent supporters of his in the younger generation, such as Pericles and Ephialtes, still lacked the influence and authority to make themselves felt. He had not been in Argos for more than a year before the Spartan government sent representatives to Athens accusing him of carrying on a secret correspondence with the Great King of Persia. These accusations were eagerly taken up by Kimon’s party, which included most of the noble Athenian families. Indeed, it was one of the Alcmaeonidae (not a very distinguished member of the clan) who officially prosecuted Themistocles for pro-Persian activities. As I was myself in later years prosecuted on the same charge and with the same lack of evidence, I can easily feel a special sympathy for this great man who, being in exile, could not even appear in person to answer his accusers. As it was, his written answers to the so-called evidence against him were perfectly convincing; yet he forfeited sympathy by failing to adopt that attitude of humility which the ordinary Athenian likes to see in those who are brought before the democratic courts.
And at this time Kimon was at the very height of his popularity. True, his greatest victories were won later, but he never quite so fully captured the imagination of the Athenians as in the period just after the ostracism of Themistocles. It was then that he occupied the island of Skyros, enslaved the inhabitants, who were mostly pirates, and resettled the place with Athenian colonists. But what impressed his countrymen above all was that he discovered, or claimed to have discovered, on Skyros the bones of the Athenian king and hero Theseus, who according to one legend had been treacherously killed and secretly buried on the island. These bones were brought back by Kimon to Athens, where they were interred with great ceremony and enormous popular rejoicing. All sorts of oracles were produced to show that the return of the bones to Athens indicated some special favor from the gods, that the greatest period in Athenian history was about to begin, and so on. Facts, of course, appeared to support the oraclemongers, for in these years the fleets of Athens and her allies were rapidly gaining complete control of the Aegean. As for the bones themselves, I was unfortunately unable to submit them to a scientific investigation; they were closely guarded by state officials. But I was able to speak with one of these officials who had actually measured some of the bones and who was able to give me a description of others. I came to the conclusion that most of the bones were those of oxen, though. among them there may have been some human remains. That they ever had anything to do with Theseus is difficult to believe.
I remember that when I mentioned my views on this subject to Ephialtes he was
eager to have them publicized and to use them in attacking Kimon, but Pericles and I dissuaded him from such a foolish action. When the people want to believe something, nothing will stop them from believing it, at least for some time. If Ephialtes had intervened at this moment of general rejoicing, he would have lost all the popularity which he had. And I, no doubt, should have been prematurely exiled for impiety. Kimon, moreover, probably genuinely believed in his discovery. He was a patriot and no anatomist.
Certainly Kimon’s popularity at this time had much to do with the final disgrace of Themistocles. Not that Kimon himself was personally vindictive. He would have been content, I think, to have left Themistocles undisturbed until his term of exile was over. But he was incapable of resisting any overtures made to him by the Spartans, and though he may not have believed in their assertion that Themistocles was in treasonable correspondence with the Great King, he had enough political sense to see that Themistocles in Argos was a real threat to Sparta and to the Spartan-Athenian alliance. So the fate of Themistocles was a foregone conclusion. The rest of the story is well known. In the end, but not for quite a few years, Themistocles, persecuted both by Athens and by Sparta, was driven to do what he had been accused of doing and had never done. He left Greece and appeared, with great dignity, I am told, as a suppliant of the Great King. He soon, it seems, adapted himself to Persian manners and even learned the language in the short space of one year. Afterwards, he became a friend and counselor of the king’s. He died with more honors in Persia than he had ever received in Athens a point which was frequently made by Ephialtes when he attacked the pro-Spartan policy of Kimon and his party.
