Callias: A Tale of the Fall of Athens

by Alfred John Church

  CHAPTER IX.

  SOCRATES.

  Callias lost no time in cultivating the acquaintance of his new friend.The very next day he called upon him at as early an hour as etiquettepermitted, and was lucky enough to find him at home. He had latelyreturned, indeed, from drilling with the troop of Knights to which hebelonged, and was just finishing his breakfast, which had been delayedtill his military duties had been performed.

  "Will you drink a cup to our new friendship--if you will allow me tocall it so?" said Xenophon, to the young man as he entered the room.

  "Excuse me," replied Callias, "if I decline."

  "You are right," said Xenophon, "this is one of the offers whichformality commands us to make--whether rightly or wrongly, I cannotsay--but which I always myself refuse, and am glad to see refused byothers. But what will you? A game of koltabos, or a walk to the springsof the Ilissus?"

  "Either," replied Callias, "would be agreeable, but first now I have setmy heart on something else. You are a disciple of Socrates, I am told.Can you manage that I may have the privilege of hearing him? I havenever had the chance of doing so before."

  Xenophon's face brightened with pleasure when he heard the request."Excellent, my dear sir, you could not have suggested anything thatwould have pleased me better. We shall certainly be good friends. Ialways judge a man by what he thinks of Socrates. You are ready, I know,to admire and love him, and I offer you my friendship in advance. Nowlet us go and find him. It will not be difficult, for I know his wayspretty well. There is a sacrifice in the Temple of Theseus, and he willprobably be there. There is no more diligent attendant at suchfunctions, and yet the fools and knaves say that he is an atheist. Weshall catch him just as he is leaving."

  The subject of conversation between the two young men as they walkedalong was naturally the character of this philosopher whom they wereabout to see. Callias had much to ask, and Xenophon had still more totell.

  "As you are going to see this man for the first time," said the latter,"you will be interested in hearing how I first came to make hisacquaintance. It was about nine years ago, very soon, I remember, afterthe first expedition sailed for Syracuse. I had been hearing a course oflectures by Prodicus of Ceos, who was then all the fashion in Athens,and was hurrying home to be in time for the midday meal. Socrates met usin a narrow alley, and put his staff across it to bar the way. What astrange figure he was, I thought. I had never seen him before, you mustknow; for we had been living for some years on my father's estate inEuboea. Certainly he looked more like a Silenus than an Apollo.'Well,' my son, he said, looking at me with a smile that made him lookquite beautiful, 'can you tell me where a good tunic is to bebought?' I thought it was an odd question, though certainly he mightwant a tunic for himself, for his own was exceedingly shabby. However Ianswered it to the best of my ability. 'And a good sword--where may thatbe purchased?' That I told him also as well as I could. Some half-dozenmore things he asked me about, and I did my best to reply. At last hesaid, 'Tell me then, my son, since you know so well where so many goodthings are to be procured, tell me where the true gentleman[34] is to befound?' That puzzled me exceedingly, and I could only lift my eyebrowsand shrug my shoulders. How could I answer such a question? Then hesaid, 'follow me my son, and be taught.' I never went near Prodicusagain, you may be sure. My father was somewhat vexed, for he had paid aquarter of a talent as fee for the course of lectures. However it didnot cost him anything, for Socrates will never take a fee. From that dayto this I have never missed an opportunity when I was not campaigning ofhearing him. But see there he is!"

  THE TEMPLE OF THESEUS.]

  Socrates was standing in the open space in front of the Temple ofPoseidon, with the customary group of listeners round him. As the twoyoung men came up the discussion which had been going on came to an end,and the philosopher turned to greet the new comers. "Hail! Xenophon," hecried, "and you, too, sir, for the friends of Xenophon are alwayswelcome." "You, sir," he went on addressing Callias, "are recently backfrom the war; now tell me this." And he asked questions which showedthat military details were perfectly well known to him, better known tohim in fact than they were to Callias himself. These questions werebecoming a little perplexing, for Socrates had an inveterate habit ofdriving into a corner, it may be said, every one with whom he conversed.Luckily for Callias, another friend came up at the moment, and the greatexaminer's attention was diverted.

  "Ho! Aristarchus," he cried to the new comer, "how fare you?"

  "But poorly, Socrates," was the reply. "Things are going very ill withme."

  "And indeed," said the philosopher, "I thought that you had a somewhatgloomy look. But tell me--what is your trouble? Xenophon here is yourkinsman, I know, and you will not mind speaking before him, and he willanswer for the discretion of his friend. Or would you prefer that weshould go apart and talk, for to that too, I doubt not, these twogentlemen will consent?"

  "Nay," said the man who had been addressed as Aristarchus, "I am notashamed or unwilling to speak before Xenophon and his friend Callias, inwhom I have the pleasure of recognizing a kinsman of my own. For thatfrom which I am suffering, though it troubles me, has nothing shamefulin it."

  "Speak on then," said Socrates, "and, perhaps, among us we shall be ableto find some remedy for your trouble. For surely it is of some use toshare a burden if it be too heavy for one."

  "Listen then, Socrates," said Aristarchus, "I have been compelled forkindred's sake to take into my home not a few ladies, sisters, andnieces, and cousins, whose husbands or fathers, or other lawfulprotectors, have either perished in the war, or have been banished.There are fourteen of them in all. Now, as you know, nothing comes infrom my country estate, for who will farm that which at any time theenemy may ravage? And from my houses in the city there comes but verylittle, for how few are they who are able to pay rent? And no businessis being done in the city, nor can I borrow any money. Verily there ismore chance of finding money in the street, than of borrowing. O,Socrates, 'tis a grievous thing to see my own flesh and blood perish ofhunger, and yet, when things are as they are, I cannot find food for somany."

  "'Tis grievous indeed," said Socrates. "But tell me--how comes it topass that Keramon feeds many persons in his name, and yet can not onlyprovide what is needful for himself and his inmates, but has so muchover that he grows rich while you are afraid of perishing of hunger?"

  "Nay, Socrates, why ask such a question? The many persons whom he sokeeps are slaves, while the inmates of my house are free."

  "Which then, think you, are the worthier, your free persons, orKeramon's slaves?"

  "Doubtless my free persons."

  "But, surely, it is a shame, that he having the less worthy shouldprosper, and you with the more worthy, be in poverty."

  "Doubtless 'tis because his folk are artisans while mine have beenliberally educated."

  "By artisans you mean such as know how to make useful things."

  "Certainly."

  "Barley meal is a useful thing, for instance?"

  "Very much so."

  "And bread?"

  "Very much so."

  "And men's and women's cloaks, and short frocks, and mantles, andvests?"

  "Very much so."

  "But your folk don't know how to make any of these things. Is it so?"

  "Nay, but they know how to make them all."

  "Do you not know then, how Nausicydes not only supports himself and hishousehold by making barley meal, and has become so rich that he is oftencalled upon to make special contributions to the State[35] and howCoroelus, the baker, lives in fine style on the profits ofbread-making, and Demias on mantle-making, and Menon on cloak-making,and nearly every one in Megara on the making of vests?"

  "That is very true, Socrates. But all these buy barbarians for slaves,and make them work; but my people are free by birth and kinsfolk of myown."

  "And because they are free and kinsfolk of yours must they do nothingbut eat and sleep? Do you suppose that other free people are happierw
hen they live in this indolent fashion, or when they employ themselvesin useful occupations? What about your kinsfolk, my friend? At present Itake it, you do not love them, and they do not love you, for you thinkthem a great trouble and loss to you, and they see that you feel them tobe a burden. It is only too likely that all natural affection will turnunder these circumstances to positive dislike. But if you will put themin the way of making their own livelihood, every thing will go right;you will have a kindly feeling for them because they will be helpingyou, and they will have as much regard for you, because they will seethat you are pleased with them. They know, you say, how to do the thingsthat are a woman's becoming work; don't hesitate therefore to set themin the way of doing it. I am sure that they will be glad enough tofollow."

  "By all the gods, Socrates, you are right. I dare say I could borrow alittle money to set the thing going; but to tell you the truth, I didnot like to run into debt, when all the money would simply be eaten. Itis a different thing, now that there will be a chance of paying it back,and I have no doubt that there will be some way of managing it."

  Just at this point a little boy came up with a message for Socrates. "Mymistress bids me say," he cried in a somewhat undertone, "that thedinner is waiting, and that you must come at once." "There are commandswhich all must obey," said the philosopher with a smile, "and this isone of them. And indeed it would be ungrateful to the excellentXanthippe, if after hearing she has taken so much pains to prepare one'sdinner, one was to refuse the very easy return of eating it. Farewell,my friends."

  And the philosopher went his way.

  To Callias the conversation which he had just heard was peculiarlyinteresting, because the theory in his family was that which wasprobably accepted in almost every upper class house in Athens, that itwas a disgrace for a free-born woman to work for her living, and thatall handicrafts, even in those who constantly exercised them, weredegrading and lowering to the character. Xenophon already knew what hismaster thought upon these points, but to his younger friend this "gospelof work," as it may be called, was a positive revelation. He did notvalue it even when, a few days later, he heard from Aristarchus that theexperiment had succeeded to admiration. "I only had to buy a few poundsof wool," he said; "the women are as happy as queens, and I have not gotto think all day and night, but never find out, how to make both endsmeet."

  FOOTNOTES:

  [34] The "Kalokagathos" (literally handsome and good), combining the twoGreek ideals, beauty of mind and beauty of body.

  [35] See note page 22.