much booty, which was all sent to Sparta. The ephors refused at first to
accept or distribute this gold, saying that the love of wealth was the
root of all evil; but they finally decided to use it for the improvement
of their city.
Lysander himself was as noble a man as he was a good general, and kept
none of the booty for his own use. On the contrary, he came back to
Sparta so poor, that, when he died, the city had to pay his funeral
expenses.
The Spartans felt so grateful for the services which he had rendered
them, that they not only gave him a fine burial, but also gave marriage
portions to his daughters, and helped them to get good husbands.
LXIX. ACCUSATION OF SOCRATES.
Socrates, as you know, was one of the best and gentlest of men, yet he
had many enemies. These were principally the people who were jealous of
him and of his renown for great wisdom; for his reputation was so well
established, that the oracle at Delphi, when consulted, replied that the
most learned man in Greece was Socrates.
Although Socrates was so wise and good and gentle, he was not at all
conceited, and showed his wisdom by never pretending to know what he did
not know, and by his readiness to learn anything new, provided one could
prove it to be true.
Among the noted Athenians of this time was Aristophanes, a writer of
comedies or funny plays. He was so witty that his comedies are still
admired almost as much as when they were played in the Theater of
Dionysus for the amusement of the people.
Like most funny men, Aristophanes liked to turn everything into
ridicule. He had often seen Socrates and Alcibiades walking through the
streets of Athens, and was greatly amused at the contrast they
presented.
Now, Aristophanes, with all his cleverness, was not always just; and
while his ridicule sometimes did good, at other times it did a great
deal of harm. He soon learned to dislike Alcibiades; but he saw how
dearly the people loved the young man, and fancied that his faults must
be owing to the bad advice of his teacher. Such was not the case, for
Socrates had tried to bring out all the good in his pupil. Alcibiades'
pride, insolence, and treachery were rather the result of the constant
flattery to which he had been exposed on the part of those who claimed
to be his friends.
Aristophanes disliked Alcibiades so much that he soon wrote a comedy
called "The Clouds," in which he made fun of him. Of course, he did not
call the people in the play by their real names; but the hero was a
good-for-nothing young man, who, advised by his teacher, bought fast
horses, ran his father into debt, cheated everybody, and treated even
the gods with disrespect.
As the actors who took part in this comedy dressed and acted as nearly
as possible like Alcibiades and Socrates, you can imagine that the play,
which was very comical and clever, made the Athenians roar with
laughter.
Everybody talked about it, repeated the best jokes, and went again and
again to see and laugh over it. We are told that Socrates went there
himself one day; and, when asked why he had come, he quietly said, "I
came to find out whether, among all the faults of which I am accused,
there may not be some that I can correct."
You see, the philosopher knew that it was never too late to mend, and
fully intended to be as perfect as possible. He knew, of course, that he
could not straighten his crooked nose or make his face good-looking,
but he hoped to find some way of improving his character.
"The Clouds" amused the Athenians for about twenty years; and when
Alcibiades turned traitor, and caused the ruin of his country, the
people still went to see it. In their anger against Alcibiades, they
began to think that perhaps Aristophanes was right, and that the youth
they had once loved so dearly would never have turned out so badly had
he not been influenced for evil.
As the teacher in the play was blamed for all the wrongdoing of his
pupil, so Socrates was now accused by the Athenians of ruining
Alcibiades. Little by little the philosopher's enemies became so bold
that they finally made up their minds to get rid of him. As he was quite
innocent, and as there was no other excuse for dragging him before the
Tribunal, they finally charged him with giving bad advice to young men,
and speaking ill of the gods.
LXX. DEATH OF SOCRATES.
The false accusation made against Socrates by his enemies soon had the
desired effect, for the Tribunal gave orders for his arrest and trial.
The philosopher, sure of his innocence, came before his judges, and
calmly answered their questions.
He told them he had never turned the gods into ridicule, as he knew it
was wrong to make fun of anything which others deemed sacred. Then, as
they still further pressed him to explain his views, he confessed that
he believed there was a God greater and better than any they worshiped.
As to teaching the young men anything which could do them harm, he said
it was quite impossible; for he had ever told them that they should be
as good, virtuous, and helpful as they could, which was surely not
wrong.
Socrates gave noble answers to all their questions; but the judges,
blinded with prejudice, believed the lying charges of his enemies, which
Socrates scorned to contradict. The philosopher's friends begged him to
use his eloquence to defend himself and confound his accusers; but he
calmly refused, saying, "My whole life and teaching is the only
contradiction, and the best defense I can offer."
Socrates, as you have seen, was really one of the best men that ever
lived, and, without having ever heard of the true God, he still believed
in him. Nearly four centuries before the coming of Christ, when people
believed in revenge, he preached the doctrine of "Love one another" and
"Do good to them that hate you."
But, in spite of all his goodness and constant uprightness, Socrates the
philosopher was condemned to the shameful death of a base criminal.
Now, in Greece, criminals were forced to drink a cup of deadly poison at
sunset on the day of their condemnation, and there was generally but a
few hours' delay between the sentence and its execution. But the law
said that during one month in the year no such punishment should be
inflicted. This was while an Athenian vessel was away on a voyage to
the Island of De'los to bear the annual offerings to Apollo's shrine.
As Socrates was tried and condemned at this season, the people were
forced to await the return of the vessel before they could kill him: so
they put him in prison. Here he was chained fast, yet his friends were
allowed to visit him and to talk with him.
Day after day the small band of his pupils gathered around him in
prison; and, as some of them were very rich, they bribed the jailer, and
arranged everything for their beloved master's escape.
When the time came, and Socrates was told that he could leave the prison
unseen, and be taken to a place of safety, he refused to go, saying that
it would be against the law, which he had never yet disobeyed.
In vain his friends and disciples begged him to save his life: he would
not consent. Then Cri'to, one of his pupils, began to weep, in his
distress, and exclaimed indignantly, "Master, will you then remain here,
and die innocent?"
"Of course," replied Socrates, gravely. "Would you rather I should die
guilty?"
Then, gathering his disciples around him, he began to talk to them in
the most beautiful and solemn way about life and death, and especially
about the immortality of the soul.
This last conversation of Socrates was so attentively listened to by his
disciple Plato, the wisest among them all, that he afterward wrote it
down from memory almost word for word, and thus kept it so that we can
still read it.
[Illustration: Socrates' Farewell.]
As the sun was slowly setting on that last day, the sacred vessel came
back from Delos. The time of waiting was ended, and now the prisoner
must die. The jailer interrupted this beautiful last talk, and entered
the cell, bringing the cup of poison.
Socrates took the cup from his hand and drained it, unmoved, telling his
disciples that he felt sure that death was only birth into another and
better world. Then he bade them all farewell.
As he was a good and scrupulous man, very careful about paying his debts
and keeping his promises, he now told Crito to remember that he had
promised to sacrifice a cock to AEs-cu-la'pi-us, the god of medicine, and
bade him do it in his stead.
He then lay down upon his hard prison bed, and, while he felt the chill
of death slowly creeping upward toward his heart, he continued to teach
and exhort his pupils to love virtue and do right.
All his last sayings were carefully treasured by Plato, who wrote them
down, and who concludes the story of his death in these beautiful words:
"Thus died the man who, of all with whom we are acquainted, was in death
the noblest, and in life the wisest and best."
Some time after the death of Socrates, the Athenians found out their
mistake. Filled with remorse, they recalled the sentence which had
condemned him, but they could not bring him back to life. In token of
their sorrow, however, they set up a statue of him in the heart of their
city.
This statue, although made of bronze, has long ceased to exist; but the
remembrance of Socrates' virtues is still held dear, and all who know
his name both love and honor him.
LXXI. THE DEFEAT OF CYRUS.
It was at the close of the Peloponnesian War that Darius II., King of
Persia, died, leaving two sons, Artaxerxes and Cy'rus. These two heirs
could not agree which should reign. Artaxerxes claimed the throne
because he was the elder, and Cyrus because he was the first son born
after their father had become king; for in Persia it was the custom for
a ruler to choose as his successor a son born after he had taken
possession of the throne.
The quarrel between the two brothers daily became more bitter; and when
Artaxerxes made himself king by force, Cyrus swore that he would compel
him to give up his place again.
To oust his brother from the throne, Cyrus collected an army in Asia
Minor; and, as he could not secure enough Persian soldiers, he hired a
body of eleven thousand Greeks, commanded by a Spartan named
Cle-ar'chus.
This Greek army was only a small part of Cyrus' force; but he expected
great things from it, as the Persians had already found out to their
cost that the Greeks were very good fighters.
After a long march, the armies of both brothers met at Cu-nax'a; and
there was a terrible battle, in the midst of which Cyrus was killed. Of
course, his death ended the quarrel, and the Persians all surrendered.
But the Greeks continued fighting bravely, until Artaxerxes sent them
word that his brother was dead, and that he would have them guided
safely back to their own country if they would lay down their arms.
The Greeks, believing him, immediately stopped fighting; and their
officers accepted an invitation to enter the Persian camp, and be
present at the council of all the generals.
Their trust was sadly misplaced, however; for no sooner had the Greek
officers entered the tent than they were surrounded and slain. The
Persian king then sent a message to the Greek troops, saying that their
leaders were all dead, and summoning them to give up their arms and to
swear to obey him in all things.
This message filled the hearts of the Greeks with rage and despair. What
were they to do? Their chiefs were dead, they were in a strange country
surrounded by enemies, and their own home lay eight months' journey
away.
They had no leaders, no money or provisions, and no guides to show them
the way back across the burning sands, deep rivers, and over the
mountains. They had nothing, in short, but the armor on their backs and
the weapons in their hands.
As they did not even know the language of the country, they could not
ask their way; and as they were surrounded by enemies, they must be
constantly on their guard lest they should be surprised and taken
prisoners or killed. They were indeed in a sorry plight; and no wonder
that they all fancied they would never see their homes again. When night
came on, they flung themselves down upon the ground without having eaten
any supper. Their hearts were so heavy, however, that they could not
sleep, but tossed and moaned in their despair.
In this army there was a pupil of Socrates, called Xenophon. He was a
good and brave man. Instead of bewailing his bad luck, as the others
did, he tried to think of some plan by which the army might yet be
saved, and brought back to Greece.
His night of deep thought was not in vain; and as soon as morning dawned
he called his companions together, and begged them to listen to him, as
he had found a way of saving them from slavery or death.
Then he explained to them, that, if they were only united and willing,
they could form a compact body, and, under a leader of their own
choosing, could beat a safe retreat toward the sea.
LXXII. THE RETREAT OF THE TEN THOUSAND.
Xenophon's advice pleased the Greeks. It was far better, they thought,
to make the glorious attempt to return home, than basely to surrender
their arms, and become the subjects of a foreign king.
They therefore said they would elect a leader, and all chose Xenophon to
fill this difficult office. He, however, consented to accept it only
upon condition that each soldier would pledge his word of honor to obey
him; for he knew that the least disobedience would hinder success, and
that in union alone lay strength. The soldiers understood this too, and
not only swore to obey him, but even promised not to quarrel among
themselves.
So the little army began its homeward march, tramping bravely over sandy
wastes and along rocky pathways. When they came to a river too deep to
be crossed by fording, they followed it up toward its source until they
could find a suitable place to get over it; and, as they had neither
money nor provisions, they were obliged to seize all their food on the
way.
The Greeks not only had to overcome countless natural obstacles, but
were also compelled to keep up a continual warfare with the Persians who
pursued them. Every morning Xenophon had to draw up his little army in
the form of a square, to keep the enemy at bay.
They would fight thus until nearly nightfall, when the Persians always
retreated, to camp at a distance from the men they feared. Instead of
allowing his weary soldiers to sit down and rest, Xenophon would then
give orders to march onward. So they tramped in the twilight until it
was too dark or they were too tired to proceed any farther.
After a hasty supper, the Greeks flung themselves down to rest on the
hard ground, under the light of the stars; but even these slumbers were
cut short by Xenophon's call at early dawn. Long before the lazy
Persians were awake, these men were again marching onward; and when the
mounted enemy overtook them once more, and compelled them to halt and
fight, they were several miles nearer home.
As the Greeks passed through the wild mountain gorges, they were further
hindered by the neighboring people, who tried to stop them by rolling
trunks of trees and rocks down upon them. Although some were wounded and
others killed, the little army pressed forward, and, after a march of
about a thousand miles, they came at last within sight of the sea.
You may imagine what a joyful shout arose, and how lovingly they gazed
upon the blue waters which washed the shores of their native land also.
But although Xenophon and his men had come to the sea, their troubles
were not yet ended; for, as they had no money to pay their passage, none
of the captains would take them on board.
Instead of embarking, therefore, and resting their weary limbs while the
wind wafted them home, they were forced to tramp along the seashore.
They were no longer in great danger, but were tired and discontented,
and now for the first time they began to forget their promise to obey
Xenophon.
To obtain money enough to pay their passage to Greece, they took several
small towns along their way, and robbed them. Then, hearing that there
was a new expedition on foot to free the Ionian cities from the Persian
yoke, they suddenly decided not to return home, but to go and help them.
Xenophon therefore led them to Per'ga-mus, where he gave them over to
their new leader. There were still ten thousand left out of the eleven
thousand men that Cyrus had hired, and Xenophon had cause to feel proud
of having brought them across the enemy's territory with so little loss.
After bidding them farewell, Xenophon returned home, and wrote down an
account of this famous Retreat of the Ten Thousand in a book called the
A-nab'a-sis. This account is so interesting that people begin to read it
as soon as they know a little Greek, and thus learn all about the
fighting and marching of those brave men.
LXXIII. AGESILAUS IN ASIA.
You may remember that the Greeks, at the end of the Peloponnesian War,
had found out that Sparta was the strongest city in the whole country;
for, although the Athenians managed to drive the Spartans out of their
city, they were still forced to recognize them as the leaders of all
Greece.
The Spartans were proud of having reached such a position, and were
eager to maintain it at any cost. They therefore kept all the Greek
towns under their orders, and were delighted to think that their king,
A-ges-i-la'us, was one of the best generals of his day.
He was not, however, tall and strong, like most of his fellow-citizens,
but puny and very lame. His small size and bad health had not lessened
his courage, however, and he was always ready to plan a new campaign or
to lead his men off to war.
When it became known that Artaxerxes was about to march against the
Greek cities in Ionia, to punish them for upholding his brother Cyrus,
and for sending him the ten thousand soldiers who had beat such a
masterly retreat, Agesilaus made up his mind to go and help them.
There was no prospect of fighting at home just then, so the Spartan
warriors were only too glad to follow their king to Asia. Agesilaus had
no sooner landed in Asia Minor, than the Greek cities there gave him
command over their army, bidding him defend them from the wrath of
Artaxerxes.
Now, although the Persian host, as usual, far outnumbered the Greek
army, Agesilaus won several victories over his enemies, who were amazed
that such a small and insignificant-looking man should be at the same
time a king and a great general.
They were accustomed to so much pomp and ceremony, and always saw their
own king so richly dressed, that it seemed very queer to them to see
Agesilaus going about in the same garments as his men, and himself
leading them in battle.
LXXIV. A STRANGE INTERVIEW.
We are told that Agesilaus was once asked to meet the Persian general
Phar-na-ba'zus, to have a talk or conference with him,--a thing which
often took place between generals of different armies.
The meeting was set for a certain day and hour, under a large tree, and
it was agreed that both generals should come under the escort of their
personal attendants only.
Agesilaus, plainly clad as usual, came first to the meeting place, and,
sitting down upon the grass under the tree, he began to eat his usual
noonday meal of bread and onions.
[Illustration: Agesilaus and Pharnabazus.]
A few moments later the Persian general arrived in rich attire, attended
by fan and parasol bearer, and by servants bringing carpets for him to
sit upon, cooling drinks to refresh him, and delicate dishes to tempt
his appetite.
At first Pharnabazus fancied that a tramp was camping under the tree;
but when he discovered that this plain little man was really Agesilaus,
King of Sparta, and the winner of so many battles, he was ashamed of his
pomp, sent away his attendants, and sat down on the ground beside the
king.
They now began an important talk, and Pharnabazus was filled with
admiration when he heard the short but noble answers which Agesilaus had
for all his questions. He was so impressed by the Spartan king, that he
shook hands with him when the interview was ended.
Agesilaus was equally pleased with Pharnabazus, and told him that he
should be proud to call him friend. He invited him to leave his master,
and come and live in Greece, where all noble men were free.
Pharnabazus did not accept this invitation, but renewed the war,
whereupon Agesilaus again won several important victories. When the
Persian king heard that all his soldiers could not get the better of the
Spartan king, he resolved to try the effect of bribery.
He therefore sent a messenger to Athens to promise this city and her
allies a very large sum of money provided that they would rise up in
revolt against Sparta, and thus force Agesilaus to come home.
LXXV. THE PEACE OF ANTALCIDAS.
The Athenians hated the Spartans, and were only waiting for an excuse to
make war against them: so they were only too glad to accept the bribe
which Artaxerxes offered, and were paid with ten thousand Persian coins
on which was stamped the figure of an archer.
As soon as the Spartan ephors heard that the Athenians had revolted,
they sent a message to Agesilaus to tell him to come home. The Spartan
king was about to deal a crushing blow to the Persians, but he was
forced to obey the summons. As he embarked he dryly said, "I could
easily have beaten the whole Persian army, and still ten thousand
Persian archers have forced me to give up all my plans."
The Thebans joined the Athenians in this revolt, so Agesilaus was very
indignant against them too. He energetically prepared for war, and met
the combined Athenian and Theban forces at Coronea, where he defeated
them completely.
The Athenians, in the mean while, had made their alliance with the
Persians, and used the money which they had received to strengthen their
ramparts, as you have seen, and to finish the Long Walls, which had been
ruined by the Spartans ten years before.
All the Greek states were soon in arms, siding with the Athenians or
with the Spartans; and the contest continued until everybody was weary
of fighting. There was, besides, much jealousy among the people
themselves, and even the laurels of Agesilaus were envied.
The person who was most opposed to him was the Spartan An-tal'ci-das,
who, fearing that further warfare would only result in increasing
Agesilaus' popularity and glory, now began to advise peace. As the
Greeks were tired of the long struggle, they sent Antalcidas to Asia to
try to make a treaty with the Persians.
Without thinking of anything but his hatred of Agesilaus, Antalcidas
consented to all that the Persians asked, and finally signed a shameful
treaty, by which all the Greek cities of Asia Minor and the Island of
Cy'prus were handed over to the Persian king. The other Greek cities
were declared independent, and thus Sparta was shorn of much of her
power. This treaty was a disgrace, and it has always been known in
history by the name of the man who signed it out of petty spite.
LXXVI. THE THEBAN FRIENDS.
Although all the Greek cities were to be free by the treaty of
Antalcidas, the Spartans kept the Messenians under their sway and, as
they were still the most powerful people in Greece, they saw that the
other cities did not infringe upon their rights in any way.
Under pretext of keeping all their neighbors in order, the Spartans were
always under arms, and on one occasion even forced their way into the
city of Thebes. The Thebans, who did not expect them, were not ready to
make war, and were in holiday dress.
They were all in the temple, celebrating the festival of Demeter, the
harvest goddess; and when the Spartans came thus upon them, they were
forced to yield without striking a single blow, as they had no weapons
at hand.
The Spartans were so afraid lest the best and richest citizens should
try to make the people revolt, that they exiled them all from Thebes,
allowing none but the poor and insignificant to remain.
To keep possession of the city which they had won by this trick, the
Spartans put three thousand of their best warriors in the citadel, with
orders to defend and hold it at any price.
Among the exiled Thebans there was a noble and wealthy man called
Pe-lop'i-das. He had been sorely wounded in a battle some time before,
and would have died had he not been saved by a fellow-citizen named
E-pam-i-non'das, who risked his own life in the rescue.