In the beginning of this year an expedition was sent out by Athens, under Archestratos, with orders to act peaceably, if possible, and to bring back these refractory subjects at Potidaia rather by persuasion than by actual hostilities. Archestratos, finding peaceful overtures were of no avail, and his force too small to coerce the revolted town, sailed north, and made an attempt against the Makedonians, and met with some success there, while another larger army was prepared at Athens. Here, then, was an opportunity for Alkibiades. He had not yet completed his twentieth year. By the law which regulated the military service of the Athenian citizens, youths from eighteen to twenty, though bound to serve, could not be called upon to leave their country; they with the old men formed a guard to protect the city and the frontiers. But Alkibiades, like other less fortunate young men, was burning with military excitement, and with the full force of his strong will he determined to go upon that expedition. When this busy schwärmerei is in the air it is wonderful how infectious it becomes. The call to arms resounded on all sides. Painting and sculpture were neglected. Sophistic quibbling was forgotten. Pursuit of pleasure for a time was laid aside. Luxurious banquets, lasting from evening far into the night, went out of fashion. The music heard was not the wailing of the Lydian flutes, but the trumpet calling to warlike exercise. All the world, though it knew it not, was preparing for a war the end and dismal consequence of which was to be terrible to Athens. With flying pennants, with brave huzzas, and gaily-decked triremes, the force set out for Potidaia. Alkibiades had got leave to go. As cavalry would be of little use, at what the generals saw would most likely be a lengthy siege, none of the golden youths could go as knights. So many of them stayed at home. The son of Kleinias volunteered as an ordinary hoplite, or heavy-armed foot-soldier. And we can well imagine the pride, the joy, with which this scion of a stock like his would stand, with all his heavy armour on, upon the prow of the great ship moving grandly out to sea, as with its threefold banks of oars it breasted the Aigaian. What thoughts! what hopes! what exaltation! His late excesses had been but little more than youthful folly, and not much really cared for. Now the descendant of Homeric heroes felt himself heroic. Even before the Trojan War an ancestor of his had been in the mysterious strange voyage with Jason and the _Argo_, when all the adventurous of the time took part in that immortal voyage to Kolchis. He would not prove unworthy of his sires; he would rival, and perhaps surpass, them. He would leave behind him a fame which should astonish men for ever.