Philothea by Lydia Maria Child

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Cleon declared it was commonly believed that Phidias decoyed the maids
and matrons of Athens to his house, under the pretence of seeing
sculpture; but in reality to minister to the profligacy of Pericles. The
sculptor denied the charge; and required that proof should be given of
one Athenian woman, who had visited his house, unattended by her husband
or her father. The enemies of Pericles could easily have procured such
evidence with gold; but when Cleon sought again to speak, the Prytanes
commanded silence; and briefly reminded the people that the Fourth
Assembly had power to decide concerning religious matters only.
Hermippus, in a speech of considerable length, urged that Phidias seldom
sacrificed to the gods; and that he must have intended likenesses on the
shield of Pallas, because even Athenian children recognized them.

The brazen urn was again passed round, and the black pebbles were more
numerous than they had been when the fate of Anaxagoras was decided.
When Phidias heard the sentence, he raised himself to his full stature,
and waving his right arm over the crowd, said, in a loud voice: "Phidias
can never die! Athens herself will live in the fame of Charmides' son."
His majestic figure and haughty bearing awed the multitude; and some,
repenting of the vote they had given, said, "Surely, invisible Phoebus
is with him!"

Aspasia was next called to answer the charges brought against her. She
had dressed herself, in deep mourning, as if appealing to the compassion
of the citizens; and her veil was artfully arranged to display an arm
and shoulder of exquisite whiteness and beauty, contrasted with glossy
ringlets of dark hair, that carelessly rested on it. She was accused of
saying that the sacred baskets of Demeter contained nothing of so much
importance as the beautiful maidens who carried them; and that the
temple of Poseidon was enriched with no offerings from those who had
been wrecked, notwithstanding their supplications--thereby implying
irreverent doubts of the power of Ocean's god. To this, Aspasia, in
clear and musical tones, replied: "I said not that the sacred baskets of
Demeter contained nothing of so much importance as the beautiful maidens
who carried them. But, in playful allusion to the love of beauty, so
conspicuous in Alcibiades, I said that _he_, who was initiated into the
mysteries of Eleusis, might think, the baskets less attractive than the
lovely maidens who carried them. Irreverence was not in my thoughts;
but inasmuch as my careless words implied it, I have offered atoning
sacrifices to the mother of Persephone, during which I abstained from
all amusements. When I declared that the temple of Poseidon contained no
offerings in commemoration of men that had been wrecked, I said it in
reproof of those who fail to supplicate the gods for the manes of the
departed. They who perish on the ocean, may have offended Poseidon, or
the Virgin Sisters of the Deep; and on their altars should offerings be
laid by surviving friends.

"No man can justly accuse me of disbelief in the gods; for it is well
known that with every changing moon I offer on the altars of Aphrodite,
doves and sparrows, with baskets of apples, roses and myrtles: and who
in Athens has not seen the ivory car drawn by golden swans, which the
grateful Aspasia placed in the temple of that love-inspiring deity?"

Phidias could scarcely restrain a smile, as he listened to this defence;
and when the fair casuist swore by all the gods, and by the Erinnys,
that she had spoken truly, Anaxagoras looked up involuntarily, with an
expression of child-like astonishment. Alcibiades promptly corroborated
her statement. Plato, being called to testify, gravely remarked that she
had uttered those words, and she alone could explain her motives. The
populace seemed impressed in her favour; and when it was put to vote
whether sentence of death should be passed, an universal murmur arose,
of "Exile! Exile!"

The Epistates requested that all who wished to consider it a question of
exile, rather than of death, would signify the same by holding up their
hands. With very few exceptions, the crowd were inclined to mercy.
Hermippus gave tokens of displeasure, and hastily rose to accuse Aspasia
of corrupting the youth of Athens, by the introduction of singing and
dancing women, and by encouraging the matrons of Greece to appear
unveiled.

A loud laugh followed his remarks; for the comic actor was himself far
from aiding public morals by an immaculate example.

The Prytanes again reminded him that charges of this nature must be
decided by the First Assembly of the people; and, whether true or
untrue, ought to have no influence on religious questions brought before
the Fourth Assembly.

Hermippus was perfectly aware of this; but he deemed that the vote might
be affected by his artful suggestion.

The brazen urn was again carried round; and fifty-one pebbles only
appeared in disapprobation of exile.

Then Pericles arose, and looked around him with calm dignity. He was
seldom seen in public, even at entertainments; hence, something of
sacredness was attached to his person, like the Salaminian galley
reserved for great occasions. A murmur like the Distant ocean was heard,
as men whispered to each other, "Lo, Pericles is about to speak!" When
the tumult subsided, he said, in a loud voice, "If any here can accuse
Pericles of having enriched himself at the expense of the state, let him
hold up his right hand!"

Not a hand was raised--for his worst enemies could not deny that he was
temperate and frugal.

After a slight pause, he again resumed: "If any man can show that
Pericles ever asked a public favour for himself or his friends, let him
speak!" No words were uttered; but a murmur of discontent was heard in
the vicinity of Cleon and Hermippus.

The illustrious statesman folded his arms, and waited in quiet majesty
for the murmur to assume a distinct form. When all was hashed, he
continued: "If any man believes that Athens has declined in beauty,
wealth, or power, since the administration of Pericles, let him give his
opinion freely!"

National enthusiasm was kindled; and many voices exclaimed, "Hail
Pericles! All hail to Athens in her glory!"

The statesman gracefully waved his hand toward the multitude, as he
replied, "Thanks, friends and brother-citizens. Who among you is
disposed to grant to Pericles one favour, not inconsistent with your
laws, or in opposition to the decrees of this assembly?"

A thousand hands were instantly raised. Pericles again expressed his
thanks, and said, "The favour I have to ask is, that the execution of
these decrees be suspended, until the oracle of Amphiaraus can be
consulted. If it please you, let a vote be taken who shall be the
messenger."

The proposal was accepted; and Antiphon, a celebrated diviner, appointed
to consult the oracle.

As the crowd dispersed, Cleon muttered to Hermippus, "By Circe! I
believe he has given the Athenians philtres to make them love him. No
wonder Archidamus of Sparta said, that when he threw Pericles in
wrestling, he insisted he was never down, and persuaded the very
spectators to believe him."

Anaxagoras and Phidias, being under sentence of death, were placed in
prison, until the people should finally decide upon their fate. The old
philosopher cheerfully employed his hours in attempts to square the
circle. The sculptor carved a wooden image, with many hands and feet,
and without a head; upon the pedestal of which he inscribed Demos, and
secretly reserved it as a parting gift to the Athenian people.

Before another moon had waned, Antiphon returned from Oropus, whither he
had been sent to consult the oracle. Being called before the people, he
gave the following account of his mission: "I abstained from food until
Phoebus had twice appeared above the hills, in his golden chariot; and
for three days and three nights, I tasted no wine. When I had thus
purified myself, I offered a white ram to Amphiaraus; and spreading the
skin on the ground, I invoked the blessing of Phoebus and his prophetic
son, and laid me down to sleep. Methought I walked in the streets of
Athens. A lurid light shone on the walls of the Piraeus, and spread into
the city, until all the Acropolis seemed glowing beneath a fiery sky. I
looked up--and lo! the heavens were in a blaze! Huge masses of flame
were thrown backward and forward, as if Paridamator and the Cyclops were
hurling their forges at each other's heads. Amazed, I turned to ask the
meaning of these phenomena; and I saw that all the citizens were clothed
in black; and wherever two were walking together, one fell dead by his
side. Then I heard a mighty voice, that seemed to proceed from within
the Parthenon. Three times it pronounced distinctly, 'Wo! wo! wo unto
Athens!

"I awoke, and after a time slept again. I heard a rumbling noise, like
thunder; and from the statue of Amphiaraus came a voice, saying, 'Life
is given by the gods.'

"Then all was still. Presently I again heard a sound like the
multitudinous waves of ocean, when it rises in a storm--and Amphiaraus
said, slowly, 'Count the pebbles on the seashore--yea, count them
twice.' Then I awoke; and having bathed in the fountain, I threw therein
three pieces of gold and silver, and departed."

The people demanded of Antiphon the meaning of these visions. He
replied: "The first portends calamity to Athens, either of war or
pestilence. By the response of the oracle, I understand that the
citizens are commanded to vote twice, before they take away life given
by the gods."

The wish to gain time had chiefly induced Pericles to request that
Amphiaraus might be consulted. In the interval, his emissaries had been
busy in softening the minds of the people; and it became universally
known that in case Aspasia's sentence were reversed, she intended to
offer sacrifices to Aphrodite, Poseidon, and Demeter; during the
continuance of which, the citizens would be publicly feasted at her
expense.

In these exertions, Pericles was zealously assisted by Clinias, a noble
and wealthy Athenian, the friend of Anaxagoras and Phidias, and a
munificent patron of the arts. He openly promised, if the lives of his
friends were spared, to evince his gratitude to the gods, by offering a
golden lamp to Pallas Parthenia, and placing in each of the agoras any
statue or painting the people thought fit to propose.

Still, Pericles, aware of the bitterness of his enemies, increased by
the late severe edict against those of foreign parentage, felt
exceedingly fearful of the result of a second vote. A petition, signed
by Pericles, Clinias, Ephialtes, Euripides, Socrates, Plato, Alcibiades,
Paralus, and many other distinguished citizens, was sent into the Second
Assembly of the people, begging that the accused might have another
trial; and this petition was granted.

When the Fourth Assembly again met, strong efforts were made to fill the
Prytaneum at a very early hour with the friends of Pericles.

The great orator secluded himself for three preceding days, and
refrained from wine. During this time, he poured plentiful libations of
milk and honey to Hermes, god of Eloquence, and sacrificed the tongues
of nightingales to Peitho, goddess of Persuasion.

When he entered the Prytaneum, it was remarked that he had never before
been seen to look so pale; and this circumstance, trifling as it was,
excited the ready sympathies of the people. When the Epistates read the
accusation against Anaxagoras, and proclaimed that any Athenian, not
disqualified by law, might speak, Pericles arose. For a moment he looked
on the venerable countenance of the old philosopher, and seemed to
struggle with his emotions. Then, with sudden impulse, he exclaimed,
"Look on him, Athenians! and judge ye if he be one accursed of the
gods!--He is charged with having said that the sun is a great ball of
fire; and therein ye deem that the abstractions of philosophy have led
him to profane the sacred name of Phoebus. We are told that Zeus assumed
the form of an eagle, a serpent, and a golden shower; yet these forms do
not affect our belief in the invisible god. If Phoebus appeared on earth
in the disguise of a woman and a shepherd, is it unpardonable for a
philosopher to suppose that the same deity may choose to reside within a
ball of fire? In the garden of Anaxagoras, you will find a statue of
Pallas, carved from an olive-tree. He brought it with him from Ionia;
and those disciples who most frequent his house, can testify that
sacrifices were ever duly offered upon her altar. Who among you ever
received an injury from that kind old man? He was the descendant of
princes,--yet gave up gold for philosophy, and forbore to govern
mankind, that he might love them more perfectly. Ask the young noble,
who has been to him as a father; and his response will be 'Anaxagoras.'
Ask the poor fisherman at the gates, who has been to him as a brother;
and he will answer 'Anaxagoras.' When the merry-hearted boys throng your
doors to sing their welcome to Ornithae, inquire from whom they receive
the kindest word and the readiest gift; and they will tell you,
'Anaxagoras.' The Amphiaraus of Eschylus, says, 'I do not wish to
_appear_ to be a good man, but I wish to _be_ one.' Ask any of the
poets, what living man most resembles Amphiaraus in this sentiment; and
his reply will surely be, 'It is Anaxagoras.'

"Again I say, Athenians, look upon his face; and judge ye if he be one
accursed of the gods!"

The philosopher had leaned on his staff, and looked downward, while his
illustrious pupil made this defence; and when he had concluded, a tear
was seen slowly trickling down his aged cheek. His accusers again urged
that he had taught the doctrine of one god, under the name of One
Universal Mind; but the melodious voice and fluent tongue of Pericles
had so wrought upon the citizens, that when the question was proposed,
whether the old man were worthy of death, there arose a clamourous cry
of "Exile! Exile!"

The successful orator did not venture to urge the plea of entire
innocence; for he felt that he still had too much depending on the
capricious favour of the populace.

The aged philosopher received his sentence with thanks; and calmly
added, "Anaxagoras is not exiled from Athens; but Athens from
Anaxagoras. Evil days are coming on this city; and those who are too
distant to perceive the trophy at Salamis will deem themselves most
blessed. Pythagoras said, 'When the tempest is rising,'tis wise to
worship the echo.'"

After the accusation against Phidias had been read, Pericles again rose
and said, "Athenians! I shall speak briefly; for I appeal to what every
citizen values more than his fortune or his name. I plead for the glory
of Athens. When strangers from Ethiopia, Egypt, Phoenicia, and distant
Taprobane, come to witness the far-famed beauty of the violet-crowned
city, they will stand in mute worship before the Parthenon; and when
their wonder finds utterance, they will ask what the Athenians bestowed
on an artist so divine. Who among you could look upon the image of
Virgin Pallas, resplendent in her heavenly majesty, and not blush to
tell the barbarian stranger that death was the boon you bestowed on
Phidias?

"Go, gaze on the winged statue of Rhamnusia, where vengeance seems to
breathe from the marble sent by Darius to erect his trophy on the plains
of Marathon! Then turn and tell the proud Persian that the hand which
wrought those fair proportions, lies cold and powerless, by vote of the
Athenian people. No--ye could not say it: your hearts would choke your
voices. Ye could not tell the barbarian that Athens thus destroyed one
of the most gifted of her sons."

The crowd answered in a thunder of applause; mingled with the cry of
"Exile! Exile!" A few voices shouted, "A fine! A fine!" Then Cleon arose
and said: "Miltiades asked for an olive crown; and a citizen answered,
'When Miltiades conquers alone, let him be crowned alone.' When Phidias
can show that he built the Parthenon without the assistance of Ictinus,
Myron, Callicrates, and others, then let him have the whole credit of
the Parthenon."

To this, Pericles replied, "We are certainly much indebted to those
artists for many of the beautiful and graceful details of that sublime
composition; but with regard to the majestic design of the Parthenon,
Phidias conquered alone, and may therefore justly be crowned alone."

A vote was taken on the question of exile, and the black pebbles
predominated. The sculptor heard his sentence with a proud gesture, not
unmingled with scorn; and calmly replied, "They can banish Phidias from
Athens, more easily than I can take from them the fame of Phidias."

When Pericles replied to the charges against Aspasia, his countenance
became more pale, and his voice was agitated: "You all know," said he,
"That Aspasia is of Miletus. That city which poets call the laughing
daughter of Earth and Heaven: where even the river smiles, as it winds
along in graceful wanderings, eager to kiss every new blossom, and court
the dalliance of every breeze. Do ye not find it easy to forgive a
woman, born under those joyful skies, where beauty rests on the earth in
a robe of sunbeams, and inspires the gayety which pours itself forth in
playful words? Can ye judge harshly of one, who from her very childhood
has received willing homage, as the favourite of Aphrodite, Phoebus, and
the Muses? If she spoke irreverently, it was done in thoughtless mirth;
and she has sought to atone for it by sacrifices and tears.

"Athenians! I have never boasted; and if I seem to do it now, it is
humbly,--as befits one who seeks a precious boon. In your service I have
spent many toilsome days and sleepless nights. That I have not enriched
myself by it, is proved by the well-known fact that my own son blames my
frugality, and reproachfully calls me the slave of the Athenian people."

He paused for a moment, and held his hand over Aspasia's head, as he
continued: "In the midst of perplexities and cares, here I have ever
found a solace and a guide. Here are treasured up the affections of my
heart. It is not for Aspasia, the gifted daughter of Axiochus, that I
plead. It is for Aspasia, the beloved wife of Pericles."

Tears choked his utterance; but stifling his emotion, he exclaimed,
"Athenians! if ye would know what it is that thus unmans a soul capable
of meeting death with calmness, behold, and judge for yourselves!"

As he spoke, he raised Aspasia's veil. Her drapery had been studiously
arranged to display her loveliness to the utmost advantage; and as she
stood forth radiant in beauty, the building rung with the acclamations
that were sent forth, peal after peal, by the multitude.

Pericles had not in vain calculated on the sympathies of a volatile and
ardent people, passionately fond of the beautiful, in all its forms.
Aspasia remained in Athens, triumphant over the laws of religion and
morality.

Clinias desired leave to speak in behalf of Philothea, grandchild of
Anaxagoras; and the populace, made good-humoured by their own clemency,
expressed a wish to hear. He proceeded as follows: "Philothea,--whom you
all know was, not long since, one of the Canephorae, and embroidered the
splendid peplus exhibited at the last Panathenaea--humbly begs of the
Athenians, that Eudora, Dione, and Geta, slaves of Phidias, may remain
under his protection, and not be confiscated with his household goods. A
contribution would have been raised, to buy these individuals of the
state, were it not deemed an insult to that proud and generous people,
who fined a citizen for proposing marble as a cheaper material than
ivory for the statue of Pallas Parthenia."

The request, thus aided by flattery, was almost unanimously granted. One
black pebble alone appeared in the urn; and that was from the hand of
Alcibiades.

Clinias expressed his thanks, and holding up the statue of Urania, he
added: "In token of gratitude for this boon, and for the life of a
beloved grandfather, Philothea consecrates to Pallas Athenae this image
of the star-worshipping muse; the gift of a munificent Ethiopian."

The populace, being in gracious mood, forthwith voted that the exiles
had permission to carry with them any articles valued as the gift of
friendship.

The Prytanes dismissed the assembly; and as they dispersed, Alcibiades
scattered small coins among them. Aspasia immediately sent to the
Prytaneum an ivory statue of Mnemosyne, smiling as she looked back on a
group of Hours; a magnificent token that she would never forget the
clemency of the Athenian people.

Hermippus took an early opportunity to proclaim the exhibition of a new
comedy called Hercules and Omphale; and the volatile citizens thronged
the theatre, to laugh at that infatuated tenderness, which in the
Prytaneum had well nigh moved them to tears. The actor openly ridiculed
them for having been so much influenced by their orator's
least-successful attempt at eloquence; but in the course of the same
play, Cratinus raised a laugh at his expense, by saying facetiously:
"Lo! Hermippus would speak like Pericles! Hear him, Athenians! Is he not
as successful as Salmoneus, when he rolled his chariot over a brazen
bridge, and hurled torches to imitate the thunder and lightning of
Zeus?"

When the day of trial had passed, Pericles slept soundly; for his heart
was relieved from a heavy pressure. But personal enemies and envious
artists were still active; and it was soon buzzed abroad that the people
repented of the vote they had given. The exiles had been allowed ten
days to sacrifice to the gods, bid farewell to friends, and prepare for
departure; but on the third day, at evening twilight, Pericles entered
the dwelling of his revered old master. "My father," said he, "I am
troubled in spirit. I have just now returned from the Piraeus, where I
sought an interview with Clinias, who daily visits the Deigma, and has a
better opportunity than I can have to hear the news of Athens. I found
him crowned with garlands; for he had been offering sacrifices in the
hall. He told me he had thus sought to allay the anxiety of his mind
with regard to yourself and Phidias. He fears the capricious Athenians
will reverse their decree."

"Alas, Pericles," replied the old man, "what can you expect of a people,
when statesmen condescend to buy justice at their hands, by promised
feasts, and scattered coin?"

"Nay, blame me not, Anaxagoras," rejoined Pericles; "I cannot govern as
I would. I found the people corrupted; and I must humour their disease.
Your life must be saved; even if you reprove me for the means. At
midnight, a boat will be in readiness to conduct you to Salamis, where
lies a galley bound for Ionia. I hasten to warn Phidias to depart
speedily for Elis."

The parting interview between Philothea and her repentant friend was
almost too painful for endurance. Poor Eudora felt that she was indeed
called to drink the cup of affliction, to its last bitter drop. Her
heart yearned to follow the household of Anaxagoras; but Philothea
strengthened her own conviction that duty and gratitude both demanded
she should remain with Phidias.

Geta and Milza likewise had their sorrows--the harder to endure, because
they were the first they had ever encountered. The little peasant was so
young, and her lover so poor, that their friends thought a union had
better be deferred. But Milza was free: and Anaxagoras told her it
depended on her own choice, to go with them, or follow Geta. The
grateful Arcadian dropped on one knee, and kissing Philothea's hand,
while the tears flowed down her cheeks, said: "She has been a mother to
orphan Milza, and I will not leave her now. Geta says it would be wrong
to leave her when she is in affliction."

Philothea, with a gentle smile, put back the ringlets from her tearful
eyes, and told her not to weep for her sake; for she should be resigned
and cheerful, wheresover the gods might place her; but Milza saw that
her smiles were sad.

At midnight, Pericles came, to accompany Anaxagoras to Salamis. Paralus
and Philothea had been conversing much, and singing their favourite
songs together, for the last time. The brow of the ambitious statesman
became clouded, when he observed that his son had been in tears; he
begged that preparations for departure might be hastened. The young man
followed them to the Piraeus; but Pericles requested him to go no
further. The restraint of his presence prevented any parting less formal
than that of friendship. But he stood watching the boat that conveyed
them over the waters; and when the last ripple left in its wake had
disappeared, he slowly returned to Athens.

The beautiful city stoood before him, mantled in moonlight's silvery
veil. Yet all seemed cheerless; for the heart of Paralus was desolate.
He looked toward the beloved mansion near the gate Diocharis; drew from
his bosom a long lock of golden hair; and leaning against the statue of
Hermes, bowed down his head and wept.

CHAPTER XI.

"How I love the mellow sage,
Smiling through the veil of age!
Age is on his temples hung,
But his heart--his heart is young!"
ANACREON

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