“Nay,” said he who had escaped thence, “if my experience suffices not to deter you, learn that they who have known Truth can never taste of Illusion.  Illusion is for life’s golden prime, its fanes and pavilions may be reared but by the magic wand of Youth.  The maturity that would recreate them builds not for Illusion but for Deceit.  Yet, lest mortality should despair, there exists, as I have learned, yet another palace, founded midway between that of Illusion and that of Truth, open to those who are too soft for the one and too hard for the other.  Thither, indeed, the majority of mankind in this age resort, and there appear to find themselves comfortable.”

“And this palace is?” inquired Truth’s runaways simultaneously.

“The Palace of Convention,” replied the youth.

NEW READINGS IN BIOGRAPHY

I.—­Timon of Athens

No, it was not true that Timon was dead, and buried on the sea-shore.  So the first party discovered that hastened to his cave at the tidings, thinking to seize his treasure, and had their heads broken for their pains.  But the second party fared better; for these were robbers, captained by Alcibiades, who had taken to the road, as many a man of spirit, has done before and since.  They took Timon’s gold, and left him bound in his chair.  But on the way home the lesser thieves mysteriously disappeared, and the gold became the sole property of Alcibiades.  As it is written, “The tools to him that can handle them.”

Timon sat many hours in an uncomfortable position, and though, in a general way, he abhorred the face of man, he was not displeased when a gentleman of bland appearance entered the cavern, and made him a low obeisance.  And perceiving that Timon was bound, the bland man exclaimed with horror, and severed his bonds, ere one could say Themistocles.  And in an instant the cavern was filled with Athenian senators.

“Hail,” they cried, “to Timon the munificent!  Hail to Timon the compassionate!  Hail to Timon the lover of his kind!”

“I am none of these things,” said Timon.  “I am Timon the misanthrope.”

“This must be my Lord’s wit and playfulness,” said the bland man, “for how else should the Senate and the people have passed a decree, indited by myself, ordering an altar to be raised to Timon the Benefactor, and appointing him chief archon?  But come, hand over thy treasure, that thy installation may take effect with due observance.”

“I have been deprived of my treasure,” said Timon.

But the ambassadors gave him no credit until they had searched every chink and crevice in the cavern, and dug up all the earth round the entrance.  They then regarded each other with blank consternation.

“Let us leave him as we found him,” said one.

“Let us hang him up,” said another.

“Let us sell him into captivity,” said a third.