THE ELECTION

I often heard Chairo and his friends discuss their plans for the coming electoral campaign, but have not set these things down because there was in them nothing that was necessary to my story or very different from the political campaigns of our day. There was less corruption, for there were no needy persons in the state; but corruption was by no means unknown, especially since the development of private industry had created a private and transferable money system, and the relatively large wealth of such men as Campbell and Masters caused them to be feared. Campbell, however, had no political aspirations; his hoarding instinct occupied his time and devoured his ambition. Masters, on the other hand, had a large fund at his disposal which it was feared he might use in his unreasoning desire to vindicate Neaera. But when Masters returned from Boston and read the testimony taken by the magistrate he called on Chairo to express regret at the attitude he had taken and to agree with him as to the coming campaign.

Masters was still in favor of the amnesty bill, but he saw that a general bill that would include Neaera could not, and ought not, to be passed. He doubted the possibility of pushing through the legislature one that would altogether protect Chairo, and frankly told Chairo so. He was surprised to hear Chairo admit his own concurrence with this view.

"I cannot play a conspicuous part," said Chairo, "in a campaign in which I am so deeply involved; I propose to stand for the legislature in my own district, but I shall address my constituents only once, and then I shall make it clear to them that I shall not regard my election as a vindication of the course I have adopted in setting myself against the state, but as evidence that upon my frank avowal that I was wrong I still have their sympathy and confidence."

Masters suggested that they should attend on the governor, who was standing for reËlection, and agree with him as to the course to be taken, with a view to diminishing to the utmost possible the chances of a serious collision between the government and the opposition on the amnesty question.

I was very much surprised one day to find both Masters and the governor dining at our table in our hall, and to learn that although the governor had offices in the capitol he lived with his family in the same apartment in which he had always lived, and, except when he was actually engaged in the duties of his office, there was nothing to distinguish his manner of living from that of the humblest of his fellow citizens.

He was a man of an extremely simple exterior, though his head was distinguished and his language chosen. We conversed about the political outlook, and over our coffee, which Ariston made himself in our rooms, the governor summed up the position as follows:

"The country districts will send us a large majority hostile to Chairo, because they are conservative and abhor violence. Chairo will have from the city and most of the large towns a small but staunch and intelligent following. Masters will influence a large number of votes, as will also the Demetrian cult. I don't myself think the state can afford to allow any man to organize an armed rebellion—not even Chairo—without putting upon him some mark of its authority, and I think it would be unwise in Chairo's interests to ask that he should escape without censure and even punishment. I propose in my electoral address to advise pardon for all who have been led by others into rebellion, severity for those who led them into it, and for those leaders who can plead extenuating circumstances, moderation."

We all felt that the governor's attitude was not only wise on general political grounds, but also from the narrower point of view of Chairo's personal interest.

The nomination of candidates at the primaries evinced a political animosity against Chairo of which we were altogether unaware. To our amazement the notion that Neaera was the victim of a concerted effort to exonerate Chairo at her expense had so widely prevailed that neither discussion nor argument was any longer of any avail. All who defended Chairo were hounded down as the persecutors of a defenseless woman, and were it not for the votes of the women, who were less obtuse on the question than the men, neither Chairo nor any of his following would have received a nomination. As it was, Chairo was nominated only by a dangerously narrow majority, and most of his party were dropped altogether, But the very women who were not deceived into vindicating Neaera went far beyond the limits of wisdom in their defense of the Demetrian cult. Although Arkles and IrÉnÉ did their utmost to keep the enthusiasm of their supporters within reasonable bounds, the belief that the cult was attacked caused the nomination of a class of candidates who, if elected, were likely to do Chairo scant justice by their votes.

For some weeks I lived in a turmoil of political campaigning. It was a relief to be wakened on Christmas by a peal of Cathedral bells, and these over, to hear in the distant corridors an approaching hymn swell its note of praise as it passed our door and die away as it disappeared in the distance. We were all glad to feel that the electioneering was over, for Christmas Day is devoted entirely to the morning ritual and afternoon family gatherings; the 26th is devoted to final athletic competitions, the crowning of the victors, and public balls; and the 27th to the silent vote.

I am ashamed to say that although I had often delighted in the exterior of the Cathedral from a distance, I had never entered it till Christmas morning, for our quarters were some distance from it, and such religious exercises as I had attended with Ariston were held either in a neighboring chapel or at the temple of Demeter. The scene as I approached the Cathedral reminded me of what my imagination had sometimes constructed out of mediÆval chronicles around the spires of Chartres. It was a cold day and all the approaches to the Cathedral were crowded with men, women, and children, covered with outer garments that far more resembled those we see in the thirteenth century tapestries than the Greek dress that had first surprised me at Tyringham and in the interiors of New York. I learned that even in summer it was usual to don a special dress when attending a church service, not only out of respect for the church, but out of a sense of the artistic inappropriateness of a Greek dress in a gothic Cathedral.

The gigantic doors of the main entrance were thrown wide open, and as I mounted the long flight of steps that led to it, I was delighted and bewitched by a faÇade, wide as Bourges, richly sculptured as Rheims, and flanked by spires more beautiful than those of Soissons. From the deep, dim Cathedral itself came the pealing notes of the organ which, as we entered, made the air throb; I was rejoiced to find that the secret of old glass had been rediscovered, but so great a blaze of light came from the five great western portals that I did not fully appreciate the mystic colors of the vitraux till the doors were closed. Thereupon, from an entrance in the south transept there marched in a procession which, though more familiar than that I had already witnessed in the temple of Demeter, far exceeded in splendor and impressiveness anything I had seen before. Less graceful, perhaps, than in the Demetrian cult but more solemn and devout, marched in the acolytes, swinging censers; they were followed by the choir, singing a Gregorian chant, than which assuredly nothing more subtly conveying the Christian idea has ever been composed. In order came after them the great officials of the city and state, including the mayor and the governor, a full representation from the priests and priestesses of Asclepius and from those of Demeter; the procession was closed by the lesser ecclesiastics bearing the cross, the canons, and, last of all, the bishop. The ritual did not differ much from that of the Roman and Anglican churches, except that the music was rendered with as much care and effect as at Munich or Bayreuth.

The sermon did not last more than ten minutes, and closed with an earnest reminder that in casting our votes we were exercising the highest act of sovereignty of which man is capable, and an entreaty so to cast them that the church—and all that the church stood for—might feel itself strengthened in the legislature as well as in the hearts of the people.

Whether on emerging from the Cathedral this solemn exhortation left as little trace in the shape of actual conduct as in our day I, of course, cannot tell, but I think the language of the headstrong during the succeeding days was less violent and the animus evinced less bitter for it.

The Christmas dinner which followed the service was held in the common hall, for it was deemed an occasion when all should join and contribute to make the day a happy one. Families either arranged to dine at separate tables or united to dine at one, and on this great festival wine flowed in abundance at the expense of the state.

Our own party consisted for the most part of the Tyringham colony, to which, however, were added many new city friends. Ariston sat between Anna of Ann and IrÉnÉ. We missed, however, Chairo and Lydia; the one dined alone from discretion, the other remained at the cloister. We were not a merry party, for the prospect for both of these two was dark, and when we drank the toast of "absent friends" there was a tear in many an eye.