path: root/78134-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78134 ***

Transcriber’s notes:

Italic text is denoted _thus_.

The spelling, hyphenation, punctuation and accentuation are as the
original, except for apparent typographical errors which have been
corrected.




[Illustration: _Pandora’s Box._

_From the painting by Dante Gabriel Rossetti._]




PLUTARCH’S ESSAYS AND MISCELLANIES

Comprising all his Works Collected under the Title of “Morals” ·
Translated from the Greek by Several Hands Corrected and Revised by
WILLIAM W. GOODWIN, Ph.D., Professor of Greek Literature in Harvard
University In Five Volumes · Volume One


[Illustration: HONOS ET VIRTVS]


  BOSTON · LITTLE, BROWN
  AND COMPANY · MCMXI


  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, By LITTLE,
  BROWN, AND COMPANY, In the office of the Librarian of Congress at
  Washington.


  Copyright, 1898, 1905, By LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.


  Printers S. J. PARKHILL & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.




  EDITOR’S PREFACE.


The translation of Plutarch’s Morals “by Several Hands” was first
published in London in 1684-1694. The fifth edition, “revised and
corrected from the many errors of the former editions,” published in
1718, is the basis of the present translation. The earlier translation
made by Philemon Holland, Doctor of Physick, published in London in
1603 and again in 1657, has often been of great use in the revision. It
hardly need be stated, that the name “Morals” is used by tradition to
include all the works of Plutarch except the Lives.

The original editions of the present work contained translations of
every grade of merit. Some of the essays were translated by eminent
scholars like William Baxter (nephew of Richard Baxter) and Thomas
Creech, whose work generally required merely such revision as every
translation of such an age would now need. But a large number,
including some of the longest and most difficult treatises, were
translated by men whose ignorance of Greek—or whatever language was
the immediate ancestor of their own version—was only one of their
many defects as translators. Perhaps we may gain a better idea than we
have had of the scholars of Oxford whom Bentley delighted to torment,
from these specimens of the learning of their generation; and it may
have been a fortunate thing for some of our translators that Bentley
was too much occupied with the wise heads of Christ Church to be able
to notice the blunders of men who could write notes saying that the
Parthenon is “a Promontory shooting into the Black Sea, where stood a
Chappel dedicated to some Virgin God-head, and famous for some Victory
thereabout obtain’d;” or who could torture a plain statement that a
certain water when stirred produced _bubbles_ (πομφόλυγες) into a story
of a new substance called _Pompholyx_, “made by Mixture of Brass with
the Air”! See Vol. V. p. 337, and Vol. III. p. 517, of the original
translation.

Besides the great variety of scholarship and ignorance, each translator
had his own theory of translation. While some attempted a literal
version, so as even to bracket all words not actually represented
in the Greek, others gave a mere paraphrase, which in one case
(Mr. Pulleyn’s “Customs of the Lacedaemonians”) became an original
essay on the subject, based on the facts supplied by Plutarch. The
present editor’s duty, of course, changed with each new style of
translation. It would have been impossible to bring the whole work to
a uniform standard of verbal correctness, unless essentially a new
translation had been made. The original version was often so hopelessly
incorrect that no revision was possible; and here the editor cannot
flatter himself that he has succeeded in patching the English of the
seventeenth century with his own without detriment. Fortunately,
the earlier translation of Holland supplied words, and even whole
sentences, in many cases in which the other was beyond the help of mere
revision. The translation of Holland is generally more accurate than
the other, and, on the whole, a more conscientious work; its antiquated
style and diffuseness, however, render it less fitted for republication
at the present time. Notwithstanding all the defects of the translation
which is here revised, it is beyond all question a more readable
version than could be made now; and the liveliness of its style will
more than make up to most readers for its want of literal correctness.
It need not be stated to professional scholars, that translations made
in the seventeenth century cannot, even by the most careful revision,
be made to answer the demands of modern critical scholarship.

One of the greatest difficulties in preparing the present work has been
to decide how much of the antiquated language of the old translation
should be retained. On this point the editor has fortunately been
able to consult the wisest and most experienced advisers, to whose
aid he has been constantly indebted; but even the highest authorities
occasionally disagree on the first principles. He is fully aware,
therefore, that he has dissatisfied a large number of the friends
of Plutarch in this respect; but he is equally sure that he should
have dissatisfied an equal number by any other course which he might
have followed. The general principle adopted has been to retain such
expressions as were in good use when the translation was made, provided
the meaning is obvious or easy to be learned from a dictionary, and
to discard such as would be unintelligible to ordinary readers. It
has, in some cases, been assumed that the use of a phrase of obvious
meaning in this translation is of itself authority for accepting it.
On these principles many words and expressions are retained, which
are decidedly weaker than their modern equivalents, especially many
Latinisms and Gallicisms which now seem pedantic. Even here consistency
has been impossible, where the duty of a reviser changed with every
new treatise. Perhaps the editor cannot state his own object more
correctly, than by saying that he has tried to make each treatise what
the original translator would have made it if he had carried out his
own purpose conscientiously and thoroughly. Where so many errors were
to be corrected, it would be absurd to hope that many have not remained
still unnoticed.

The corrupt state of the Greek text of many parts of Plutarch’s
Morals must not be overlooked. No complete edition of the Greek has
been published since Wyttenbach’s (1795-1800), except the French one
by Dübner in the Didot collection. The latter gives no manuscript
readings; and although it professes to be based partly on a new
collation of the manuscripts in the public library of Paris, nothing
distinguishes the changes made on this authority from conjectures of
the editor and his predecessors. A slight glance at Wyttenbach will
show that many parts of the text are restored by conjecture; and many
of the conjectures, though plausible and ingenious, are not such as
would be accepted by modern scholarship if they were made in earlier
classic authors. A translator must accept many of these under silent
protest; to enumerate one-half of them would introduce a critical
commentary entirely out of place in a translation. In fact, no critical
translation of these treatises is possible, until a thorough revision
of the text, with the help of the best manuscripts, has been made; and
this is a task from which most scholars would shrink in dismay. In
many cases in this edition, blanks have been preferred to uncertain
conjectures or traditional nonsense. The treatises on Music, on the
Procreation of the Soul, and the two on the Stoics, have many of their
dark corners made darker by the utter uncertainty of the Greek text.

The essays in this edition follow the same order as in the old
translation; but those on Fortune, and on Virtue and Vice, with the
Conjugal Precepts, are transferred from the beginning of volume
third to the end of volume second. The sections have been numbered
in accordance with the modern editions of the Greek text. References
to most of the classic authors quoted by Plutarch are given in the
foot-notes, except where a quotation is a mere fragment of an unknown
work. The tragic fragments are numbered according to the edition of
Nauck (Leipsic, 1856). All notes (except these references) introduced
by the editor are marked G. A few notes are taken from Holland; and all
which are not otherwise marked are retained from the old translation.

In conclusion, the editor must express his warmest thanks to his
colleagues at the University and other friends who have kindly aided
him with their advice and skill. Without their help, the undertaking
would sometimes have seemed hopeless.

  WILLIAM W. GOODWIN.




INTRODUCTION.


It is remarkable that of an author so familiar as Plutarch, not only
to scholars, but to all reading men, and whose history is so easily
gathered from his works, no accurate memoir of his life, not even the
dates of his birth and death, should have come down to us. Strange that
the writer of so many illustrious biographies should wait so long for
his own. It is agreed that he was born about the year 50 A. D. He has
been represented as having been the tutor of the Emperor Trajan, as
dedicating one of his books to him, as living long in Rome in great
esteem, as having received from Trajan the consular dignity, and as
having been appointed by him the governor of Greece. He was a man whose
real superiority had no need of these flatteries. Meantime, the simple
truth is, that he was not the tutor of Trajan, that he dedicated no
book to him, was not consul in Rome, nor governor of Greece; appears
never to have been in Rome but on two occasions, and then on business
of the people of his native city, Chæronæa; and though he found or made
friends at Rome, and read lectures to some friends or scholars, he did
not know or learn the Latin language there; with one or two doubtful
exceptions, never quotes a Latin book; and though the contemporary in
his youth, or in his old age, of Persius, Juvenal, Lucan, and Seneca,
of Quintilian, Martial, Tacitus, Suetonius, Pliny the Elder, and
the Younger, he does not cite them, and in return his name is never
mentioned by any Roman writer. It would seem that the community of
letters and of personal news was even more rare at that day than the
want of printing, of railroads and telegraphs, would suggest to us.

But this neglect by his contemporaries has been compensated by an
immense popularity in modern nations. Whilst his books were never
known to the world in their own Greek tongue, it is curious that the
“Lives” were translated and printed in Latin, thence into Italian,
French, and English, more than a century before the original “Works”
were yet printed. For whilst the “Lives” were translated in Rome in
1471, and the “Morals,” part by part, soon after, the first printed
edition of the Greek “Works” did not appear until 1572. Hardly current
in his own Greek, these found learned interpreters in the scholars
of Germany, Spain, and Italy. In France, in the middle of the most
turbulent civil wars, Amyot’s translation awakened general attention.
His genial version of the “Lives” in 1559, of the “Morals” in 1572, had
signal success. King Henry IV. wrote to his wife, Marie de Medicis:
“_Vive Dieu._ As God liveth, you could not have sent me any thing which
could be more agreeable than the news of the pleasure you have taken
in this reading. Plutarch always delights me with a fresh novelty.
To love him is to love me; for he has been long time the instructor
of my youth. My good mother, to whom I owe all, and who would not
wish, she said, to see her son an illustrious dunce, put this book
into my hands almost when I was a child at the breast. It has been
like my conscience, and has whispered in my ear many good suggestions
and maxims for my conduct, and the government of my affairs.” Still
earlier, Rabelais cites him with due respect. Montaigne, in 1589, says:
“We dunces had been lost, had not this book raised us out of the dirt.
By this favor of his we dare now speak and write. The ladies are able
to read to schoolmasters. ’Tis our breviary.” Montesquieu drew from him
his definition of law, and, in his _Pensées_, declares, “I am always
charmed with Plutarch; in his writings are circumstances attached to
persons, which give great pleasure;” and adds examples. Saint Evremond
read Plutarch to the great Condé under a tent. Rollin, so long the
historian of antiquity for France, drew unhesitatingly his history
from him. Voltaire honored him, and Rousseau acknowledged him as his
master. In England, Sir Thomas North translated the “Lives” in 1579,
and Holland the “Morals” in 1603, in time to be used by Shakspeare in
his plays, and read by Bacon, Dryden, and Cudworth.

Then, recently, there has been a remarkable revival, in France, in
the taste for Plutarch and his contemporaries, led, we may say, by
the eminent critic Saint-Beuve. M. Octave Gréard, in a critical work
on the “Morals,” has carefully corrected the popular legends, and
constructed from the works of Plutarch himself his true biography. M.
Levéque has given an exposition of his moral philosophy, under the
title of “A Physician of the Soul,” in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_; and
M. C. Martha, chapters on the genius of Marcus Aurelius, of Persius,
and Lucretius, in the same journal; whilst M. Fustel de Coulanges has
explored from its roots in the Aryan race, then in their Greek and
Roman descendants, the primeval religion of the household.

Plutarch occupies a unique place in literature as an encyclopædia of
Greek and Roman antiquity. Whatever is eminent in fact or in fiction,
in opinion, in character, in institutions, in science—natural,
moral, or metaphysical, or in memorable sayings, drew his attention
and came to his pen with more or less fulness of record. He is, among
prose-writers, what Chaucer is among English poets, a repertory for
those who want the story without searching for it at first hand,—a
compend of all accepted traditions. And all this without any supreme
intellectual gifts. He is not a profound mind; not a master in any
science; not a lawgiver, like Lycurgus or Solon; not a metaphysician,
like Parmenides, Plato, or Aristotle; not the founder of any sect
or community, like Pythagoras or Zeno; not a naturalist, like Pliny
or Linnæus; not a leader of the mind of a generation, like Plato or
Goethe. But if he had not the highest powers, he was yet a man of rare
gifts. He had that universal sympathy with genius which makes all its
victories his own; though he never used verse, he had many qualities
of the poet in the power of his imagination, the speed of his mental
associations, and his sharp, objective eyes. But what specially marks
him, he is a chief example of the illumination of the intellect by
the force of morals. Though the most amiable of boon-companions, this
generous religion gives him _aperçus_ like Goethe’s.

Plutarch was well-born, well-taught, well-conditioned; a
self-respecting, amiable man, who knew how to better a good education
by travels, by devotion to affairs private and public; a master of
ancient culture, he read books with a just criticism; eminently social,
he was a king in his own house, surrounded himself with select friends,
and knew the high value of good conversation; and declares in a letter
written to his wife that “he finds scarcely an erasure, as in a book
well-written, in the happiness of his life.”

The range of mind makes the glad writer. The reason of Plutarch’s vast
popularity is his humanity. A man of society, of affairs; upright,
practical; a good son, husband, father, and friend,—he has a taste
for common life, and knows the court, the camp, and the judgment-hall,
but also the forge, farm, kitchen, and cellar, and every utensil and
use, and with a wise man’s or a poet’s eye. Thought defends him from
any degradation. He does not lose his way, for the attractions are from
within, not from without. A poet in verse or prose must have a sensuous
eye, but an intellectual co-perception. Plutarch’s memory is full, and
his horizon wide. Nothing touches man but he feels to be his; he is
tolerant even of vice, if he finds it genial; enough a man of the world
to give even the devil his due, and would have hugged Robert Burns,
when he cried.

    “O wad ye tak’ a thought and mend!”

He is a philosopher with philosophers, a naturalist with naturalists,
and sufficiently a mathematician to leave some of his readers, now and
then, at a long distance behind him, or respectfully skipping to the
next chapter. But this scholastic omniscience of our author engages a
new respect, since they hope he understands his own diagram.

He perpetually suggests Montaigne, who was the best reader he has ever
found, though Montaigne excelled his master in the point and surprise
of his sentences. Plutarch had a religion which Montaigne wanted,
and which defends him from wantonness; and though Plutarch is as
plain-spoken, his moral sentiment is always pure. What better praise
has any writer received than he whom Montaigne finds “frank in giving
things, not words,” dryly adding, “it vexes me that he is so exposed
to the spoil of those that are conversant with him.” It is one of the
felicities of literary history, the tie which inseparably couples
these two names across fourteen centuries. Montaigne, whilst he grasps
Étienne de la Boèce with one hand, reaches back the other to Plutarch.
These distant friendships charm us, and honor all the parties, and make
the best example of the universal citizenship and fraternity of the
human mind.

I do not know where to find a book—to borrow a phrase of Ben
Jonson’s—“so rammed with life,” and this in chapters chiefly ethical,
which are so prone to be heavy and sentimental. No poet could
illustrate his thought with more novel or striking similes or happier
anecdotes. His style is realistic, picturesque, and varied; his sharp
objective eyes seeing every thing that moves, shines, or threatens in
nature or art, or thought or dreams. Indeed, twilights, shadows, omens,
and spectres have a charm for him. He believes in witchcraft and the
evil eye, in demons and ghosts,—but prefers, if you please, to talk
of these in the morning. His vivacity and abundance never leave him to
loiter or pound on an incident. I admire his rapid and crowded style,
as if he had such store of anecdotes of his heroes that he is forced to
suppress more than he recounts, in order to keep up with the hasting
history.

His surprising merit is the genial facility with which he deals with
his manifold topics. There is no trace of labor or pain. He gossips of
heroes, philosophers, and poets; of virtues and genius; of love and
fate and empires. It is for his pleasure that he recites all that is
best in his reading: he prattles history. But he is no courtier, and
no Boswell: he is ever manly, far from fawning, and would be welcome
to the sages and warriors he reports, as one having a native right
to admire and recount these stirring deeds and speeches. I find him
a better teacher of rhetoric than any modern. His superstitions are
poetic, aspiring, affirmative. A poet might rhyme all day with hints
drawn from Plutarch, page on page. No doubt, this superior suggestion
for the modern reader owes much to the foreign air, the Greek wine,
the religion and history of antique heroes. Thebes, Sparta, Athens,
and Rome charm us away from the disgust of the passing hour. But his
own cheerfulness and rude health are also magnetic. In his immense
quotation and allusion, we quickly cease to discriminate between what
he quotes and what he invents. We sail on his memory into the ports of
every nation, enter into every private property, and do not stop to
discriminate owners, but give him the praise of all. ’Tis all Plutarch,
by right of eminent domain, and all property vests in this emperor.
This facility and abundance make the joy of his narrative, and he is
read to the neglect of more careful historians. Yet he inspires a
curiosity, sometimes makes a necessity, to read them. He disowns any
attempt to rival Thucydides; but I suppose he has a hundred readers
where Thucydides finds one, and Thucydides must often thank Plutarch
for that one. He has preserved for us a multitude

of precious sentences, in prose or verse, of authors whose books are
lost; and these embalmed fragments, through his loving selection alone,
have come to be proverbs of later mankind. I hope it is only my immense
ignorance that makes me believe that they do not survive out of his
pages,—not only Thespis, Polemos, Euphorion, Ariston, Evenus, &c., but
fragments of Menander and Pindar. At all events, it is in reading the
fragments he has saved from lost authors that I have hailed another
example of the sacred care which has unrolled in our times, and still
searches and unrolls _papyri_ from ruined libraries and buried cities,
and has drawn attention to what an ancient might call the politeness of
Fate,—we will say, more advisedly, the benign Providence which uses
the violence of war, of earthquakes, and changed watercourses, to save
underground through barbarous ages the relics of ancient art, and thus
allows us to witness the upturning of the alphabets of old races, and
the deciphering of forgotten languages, so to complete the annals of
the forefathers of Asia, Africa, and Europe.

His delight in poetry makes him cite with joy the speech of Gorgias,
“that the tragic poet who deceived was juster than he who deceived not,
and he that was deceived was wiser than he who was not deceived.”

It is a consequence of this poetic trait in his mind, that I confess
that, in reading him, I embrace the particulars, and carry a faint
memory of the argument or general design of the chapter; but he is not
less welcome, and he leaves the reader with a relish and a necessity
for completing his studies. Many examples might be cited of nervous
expression and happy allusion, that indicate a poet and an orator,
though he is not ambitious of these titles, and cleaves to the security
of prose narrative, and only shows his intellectual sympathy with
these; yet I cannot forbear to cite one or two sentences which none who
reads them will forget. In treating of the style of the Pythian Oracle,
he says,—

  “Do you not observe, some one will say, what a grace there is in
  Sappho’s measures, and how they delight and tickle the ears and
  fancies of the hearers? Whereas the Sibyl, with her frantic grimaces,
  uttering sentences altogether thoughtful and serious, neither fucused
  nor perfumed, continues her voice a thousand years through the favor
  of the Divinity that speaks within her.”

Another gives an insight into his mystic tendencies,—

  “Early this morning, asking Epaminondas about the manner of
  Lysis’s burial, I found that Lysis had taught him as far as the
  incommunicable mysteries of our sect, and that the same Dæmon that
  waited on Lysis, presided over him, if I can guess at the pilot from
  the sailing of the ship. The paths of life are large, but in few are
  men directed by the Dæmons. When Theanor had said this, he looked
  attentively on Epaminondas, as if he designed a fresh search into his
  nature and inclinations.”

And here is his sentiment on superstition, somewhat condensed in Lord
Bacon’s citation of it: “I had rather a great deal that men should say,
There was no such man at all as Plutarch, than that they should say,
that there was one Plutarch that would eat up his children as soon as
they were born, as the poets speak of Saturn.”

The chapter “On Fortune” should be read by poets, and other wise men;
and the vigor of his pen appears in the chapter “Whether the Athenians
were more Warlike or Learned,” and in his attack upon Usurers.

There is, of course, a wide difference of time in the writing of these
discourses, and so in their merit. Many of them are mere sketches
or notes for chapters in preparation, which were never digested or
finished. Many are notes for disputations in the lecture-room. His poor
indignation against Herodotus was perhaps a youthful prize essay: it
appeared to me captious and labored; or perhaps, at a rhetorician’s
school, the subject of Herodotus being the lesson of the day, Plutarch
was appointed by lot to take the adverse side.

The plain-speaking of Plutarch, as of the ancient writers generally,
coming from the habit of writing for one sex only, has a great gain
for brevity, and, in our new tendencies of civilization, may tend to
correct a false delicacy.

       *       *       *       *       *

We are always interested in the man who treats the intellect well.
We expect it from the philosopher,—from Plato, Aristotle, Spinoza,
and Kant; but we know that metaphysical studies in any but minds of
large horizon and incessant inspiration have their dangers. One asks
sometimes whether a metaphysician can treat the intellect well. The
central fact is the superhuman intelligence pouring into us from its
unknown fountain, to be received with religious awe, and defended
from any mixture of our will. But this high Muse comes and goes; and
the danger is that, when the Muse is wanting, the student is prone to
supply its place with microscopic subtleties and logomachy. It is fatal
to spiritual health to lose your admiration. “Let others wrangle,” said
St. Augustine: “I will wonder.” Plato and Plotinus are enthusiasts,
who honor the race; but the logic of the sophists and materialists,
whether Greek or French, fills us with disgust. Whilst we expect this
awe and reverence of the spiritual power from the philosopher in his
closet, we praise it in the man of the world,—the man who lives on
quiet terms with existing institutions, yet indicates his perception of
these high oracles, as do Plutarch, Montaigne, Hume, and Goethe. These
men lift themselves at once from the vulgar, and are not the parasites
of wealth. Perhaps they sometimes compromise, go out to dine, make and
take compliments; but they keep open the source of wisdom and health.
Plutarch is uniformly true to this centre. He had not lost his wonder.
He is a pronounced idealist, who does not hesitate to say, like another
Berkeley, “Matter is itself privation;” and again, “The Sun is the
cause that all men are ignorant of Apollo, by sense withdrawing the
rational intellect from that which is to that which appears.” He thinks
that “souls are naturally endowed with the faculty of prediction;” he
delights in memory, with its miraculous power of resisting time. He
thinks that “Alexander invaded Persia with greater assistance from
Aristotle than from his father Philip.” He thinks that “he who has
ideas of his own is a bad judge of another man’s, it being true that
the Eleans would be the most proper judges of the Olympic games, were
no Eleans gamesters.” He says of Socrates, that he endeavored to bring
reason and things together, and make truth consist with sober sense. He
wonders with Plato at that nail of pain and pleasure which fastens the
body to the mind. The mathematics give him unspeakable pleasure, but he
chiefly liked that proportion which teaches us to account that which is
just, equal; and not that which is equal, just.

Of philosophy he is more interested in the results than in the method.
He has a just instinct of the presence of a master, and prefers to
sit as a scholar with Plato, than as a disputant; and, true to his
practical character, he wishes the philosopher not to hide in a corner,
but to commend himself to men of public regards and ruling genius:
“for, if he once possess such a man with principles of honor and
religion, he takes a compendious method, by doing good to one, to
oblige a great part of mankind.” ’Tis a temperance, not an eclecticism,
which makes him adverse to the severe Stoic, or the Gymnosophist, or
Diogenes, or any other extremist. That vice of theirs shall not hinder
him from citing any good word they chance to drop. He is an eclectic
in such sense as Montaigne was,—willing to be an expectant, not a
dogmatist.

In many of these chapters it is easy to infer the relation between
the Greek philosophers and those who came to them for instruction.
This teaching was no play nor routine, but strict, sincere, and
affectionate. The part of each of the class is as important as that of
the master. They are like the base-ball players, to whom the pitcher,
the bat, the catcher, and the scout are equally important. And Plutarch
thought, with Ariston, “that neither a bath nor a lecture served any
purpose, unless they were purgative.” Plutarch has such a keen pleasure
in realities that he has none in verbal disputes; he is impatient of
sophistry, and despises the Epicharmian disputations: as, that he who
ran in debt yesterday owes nothing to-day, as being another man; so, he
that was yesterday invited to supper, the next night comes an unbidden
guest, for that he is quite another person.

       *       *       *       *       *

Except as historical curiosities, little can be said in behalf of
the scientific value of the “Opinions of the Philosophers,” the
“Questions,” and the “Symposiacs.” They are, for the most part, very
crude opinions; many of them so puerile that one would believe that
Plutarch in his haste adopted the notes of his younger auditors, some
of them jocosely misreporting the dogma of the professor, who laid
them aside as _memoranda_ for future revision, which he never gave,
and they were posthumously published. Now and then there are hints of
superior science. You may cull from this record of barbarous guesses
of shepherds and travellers statements that are predictions of facts
established in modern science. Usually, when Thales, Anaximenes, or
Anaximander are quoted, it is really a good judgment. The explanation
of the rainbow, of the floods of the Nile, and of the _remora_, &c.,
are just; and the bad guesses are not worse than many of Lord Bacon’s.

His Natural History is that of a lover and poet, and not of a
physicist. His humanity stooped affectionately to trace the virtues
which he loved in the animals also. “Knowing and not knowing is the
affirmative or negative of the dog; knowing you is to be your friend;
not knowing you, your enemy.” He quotes Thucydides, saying, “that
not the desire of honor only never grows old, but much less also the
inclination to society and affection to the State, which continue even
in ants and bees to the very last.”

       *       *       *       *       *

But though curious in the questions of the schools on the nature and
genesis of things, his extreme interest in every trait of character,
and his broad humanity, lead him constantly to Morals, to the study of
the Beautiful and Good. Hence his love of heroes, his rule of life,
and his clear convictions of the high destiny of the soul. La Harpe
said “that Plutarch is the genius the most naturally moral that ever
existed.”

’Tis almost inevitable to compare Plutarch with Seneca, who, born fifty
years earlier, was for many years his contemporary, though they never
met, and their writings were perhaps unknown to each other. Plutarch
is genial, with an endless interest in all human and divine things;
Seneca, a professional philosopher, a writer of sentences, and, though
he keep a sublime path, is less interesting, because less humane;
and when we have shut his book, we forget to open it again. There is
a certain violence in his opinions, and want of sweetness. He lacks
the sympathy of Plutarch. He is tiresome through perpetual didactics.
He is not happily living. Cannot the simple lover of truth enjoy the
virtues of those he meets, and the virtues suggested by them, so to
find himself at some time purely contented? Seneca was still more a man
of the world than Plutarch; and, by his conversation with the Court
of Nero, and his own skill, like Voltaire’s, of living with men of
business, and emulating their address in affairs by great accumulation
of his own property, learned to temper his philosophy with facts. He
ventured far—apparently too far—for so keen a conscience as he inly
had. Yet we owe to that wonderful moralist illustrious maxims; as
if the scarlet vices of the times of Nero had the natural effect of
driving virtue to its loftiest antagonisms. “Seneca,” says L’Estrange,
“was a pagan Christian, and is very good reading for our Christian
pagans.” He was Buddhist in his cold abstract virtue, with a certain
impassibility beyond humanity. He called “pity, that fault of narrow
souls.” Yet what noble words we owe to him: “God divided man into men,
that they might help each other;” and again, “The good man differs from
God in nothing but duration.” His thoughts are excellent, if only he
had a right to say them. Plutarch, meantime, with every virtue under
heaven, thought it the top of wisdom to philosophize, yet not appear to
do it, and to reach in mirth the same ends which the most serious are
proposing.

Plutarch thought “truth to be the greatest good that man can receive,
and the goodliest blessing that God can give.” “When you are persuaded
in your mind that you cannot either offer or perform any thing more
agreeable to the gods than the entertaining a right notion of them, you
will then avoid superstition as a no less evil than atheism.” He cites
Euripides to affirm, “If gods do aught dishonest, they are no gods,”
and the memorable words of Antigone, in Sophocles, concerning the moral
sentiment:—

    “For neither now nor yesterday began
    These thoughts, which have been ever, nor yet can
    A man be found who their first entrance knew.”

His faith in the immortality of the soul is another measure of his deep
humanity. He reminds his friends that the Delphic oracles have given
several answers the same in substance as that formerly given to Corax
the Naxian:—

    “It sounds profane impiety
    To teach that human souls e’er die.”

He believes that the doctrine of the Divine Providence, and that of the
immortality of the soul, rest on one and the same basis. He thinks it
impossible either that a man beloved of the gods should not be happy,
or that a wise and just man should not be beloved of the gods. To him
the Epicureans are hateful, who held that the soul perishes when it is
separated from the body. “The soul, incapable of death, suffers in the
same manner in the body, as birds that are kept in a cage.” He believes
“that the souls of infants pass immediately into a better and more
divine state.”

I can easily believe that an anxious soul may find in Plutarch’s
chapter called “Pleasure not attainable by Epicurus,” and his “Letter
to his Wife Timoxena,” a more sweet and reassuring argument on the
immortality than in the Phædo of Plato; for Plutarch always addresses
the question on the human side, and not on the metaphysical; as Walter
Scott took hold of boys and young men, in England and America, and
through them of their fathers. His grand perceptions of duty lead him
to his stern delight in heroism; a stoic resistance to low indulgence;
to a fight with fortune; a regard for truth; his love of Sparta, and
of heroes like Aristides, Phocion, and Cato. He insists that the
highest good is in action. He thinks that the inhabitants of Asia came
to be vassals to one only, for not having been able to pronounce one
syllable; which is, No. So keen is his sense of allegiance to right
reason, that he makes a fight against Fortune whenever she is named. At
Rome he thinks her wings were clipped: she stood no longer on a ball,
but on a cube as large as Italy. He thinks it was by superior virtue
that Alexander won his battles in Asia and Africa, and the Greeks
theirs against Persia.

But this Stoic in his fight with Fortune, with vices, effeminacy, and
indolence, is gentle as a woman when other strings are touched. He is
the most amiable of men. “To erect a trophy in the soul against anger
is that which none but a great and victorious puissance is able to
achieve.”—“Anger turns the mind out of doors, and bolts the door.”
He has a tenderness almost to tears when he writes on “Friendship,”
on “Marriage,” on “the Training of Children,” and on the “Love of
Brothers.” “There is no treasure,” he says, “parents can give to their
children, like a brother; ’tis a friend given by nature, a gift nothing
can supply; once lost, not to be replaced. The Arcadian prophet, of
whom Herodotus speaks, was obliged to make a wooden foot in place
of that which had been chopped off. A brother, embroiled with his
brother, going to seek in the street a stranger who can take his place,
resembles him who will cut off his foot to give himself one of wood.”

All his judgments are noble. He thought, with Epicurus, that it is more
delightful to do than to receive a kindness. “This courteous, gentle,
and benign disposition and behavior is not so acceptable, so obliging
or delightful to any of those with whom we converse, as it is to those
who have it.” There is really no limit to his bounty: “It would be
generous to lend our eyes and ears, nay, if possible, our reason and
fortitude to others, whilst we are idle or asleep.” His excessive and
fanciful humanity reminds one of Charles Lamb, whilst it much exceeds
him. When the guests are gone, he “would leave one lamp burning, only
as a sign of the respect he bore to fires, for nothing so resembles
an animal as fire. It is moved and nourished by itself, and by its
brightness, like the soul, discovers and makes every thing apparent,
and in its quenching shows some power that seems to proceed from a
vital principle, for it makes a noise and resists, like an animal
dying, or violently slaughtered;” and he praises the Romans, who, when
the feast was over, “dealt well with the lamps, and did not take away
the nourishment they had given, but permitted them to live and shine by
it.”

I can almost regret that the learned editor of the present
republication has not preserved, if only as a piece of history,
the preface of Mr. Morgan, the editor and in part writer of this
Translation of 1718. In his dedication of the work to the Archbishop
of Canterbury, Wm. Wake, he tells the Primate that “Plutarch was the
wisest man of his age, and, if he had been a Christian, one of the
best too; _but it was his severe fate to flourish in those days of
ignorance, which, ’tis a favorable opinion to hope that the Almighty
will sometime wink at; that our souls may be with these philosophers
together in the same state of bliss_.” The puzzle in the worthy
translator’s mind between his theology and his reason well re-appears
in the puzzle of his sentence.

       *       *       *       *       *

I know that the chapter of “Apothegms of Noble Commanders” is rejected
by some critics as not a genuine work of Plutarch; but the matter is
good, and is so agreeable to his taste and genius, that if he had found
it, he would have adopted it. If he did not compile the piece, many,
perhaps most, of the anecdotes were already scattered in his works.
If I do not lament that a work not his should be ascribed to him, I
regret that he should have suffered such destruction of his own. What
a trilogy is lost to mankind in his Lives of Scipio, Epaminondas, and
Pindar!

His delight in magnanimity and self-sacrifice has made his books, like
Homer’s Iliad, a bible for heroes; and wherever the Cid is relished,
the legends of Arthur, Saxon Alfred, and Richard the Lion-hearted,
Robert Bruce, Sydney, Lord Herbert of Cherbury, Cromwell, Nelson,
Bonaparte, and Walter Scott’s Chronicles in prose or verse,—there will
Plutarch, who told the story of Leonidas, of Agesilaus, of Aristides,
Phocion, Themistocles, Demosthenes, Epaminondas, Cæsar, Cato, and
the rest, sit as the bestower of the crown of noble knighthood, and
laureate of the ancient world.

The chapters “On the Fortune of Alexander,” in the “Morals,” are
an important appendix to the portrait in the “Lives.” The union in
Alexander of sublime courage with the refinement of his pure tastes,
making him the carrier of civilization into the East, are in the
spirit of the ideal hero, and endeared him to Plutarch. That prince
kept Homer’s poems, not only for himself under his pillow in his tent,
but carried these for the delight of the Persian youth, and made them
acquainted also with the tragedies of Euripides and Sophocles. He
persuaded the Sogdians not to kill, but to cherish their aged parents;
the Persians to reverence, not marry their mothers; the Scythians to
bury, and not eat their dead parents. What a fruit and fitting monument
of his best days was his city Alexandria to be the birthplace or home
of Plotinus, St. Augustine, Synesius, Posidonius, Ammonius, Jamblichus,
Porphyry, Origen, Aratus, Apollonius, and Apuleius.

If Plutarch delighted in heroes, and held the balance between the
severe Stoic and the indulgent Epicurean, his humanity shines not less
in his intercourse with his personal friends. He was a genial host and
guest, and delighted in bringing chosen companions to the supper-table.
He knew the laws of conversation and the laws of good-fellowship quite
as well as Horace, and has set them down with such candor and grace as
to make them good reading to-day. The guests not invited to a private
board by the entertainer, but introduced by a guest as his companions,
the Greeks called _shadows_; and the question is debated whether it
was civil to bring them, and he treats it candidly, but concludes:
“Therefore, when I make an invitation, since it is hard to break the
custom of the place, I give my guests leave to bring shadows; but when
I myself am invited as a shadow, I assure you I refuse to go.” He
has an objection to the introduction of music at feasts. He thought
it wonderful that a man having a muse in his own breast, and all the
pleasantness that would fit an entertainment, would have pipes and
harps play, and by that external noise destroy all the sweetness that
was proper and his own.

       *       *       *       *       *

I cannot close these notes without expressing my sense of the valuable
service which the Editor has rendered to his Author and to his
readers. Professor Goodwin is a silent benefactor to the book, wherever
I have compared the editions. I did not know how careless and vicious
in parts the old book was, until in recent reading of the old text, on
coming on any thing absurd or unintelligible, I referred to the new
text, and found a clear and accurate statement in its place. It is the
vindication of Plutarch. The correction is not only of names of authors
and of places grossly altered or misspelled, but of unpardonable
liberties taken by the translators, whether from negligence or freak.

One proof of Plutarch’s skill as a writer is that he bears translation
so well. In spite of its carelessness and manifold faults, which, I
doubt not, have tried the patience of its present learned editor and
corrector, I yet confess my enjoyment of this old version for its
vigorous English style. The work of some forty or fifty University men,
some of them imperfect in their Greek, it is a monument of the English
language at a period of singular vigor and freedom of style. I hope the
Commission of the Philological Society in London, charged with the duty
of preparing a Critical Dictionary, will not overlook these volumes,
which show the wealth of their tongue to greater advantage than many
books of more renown as models. It runs through the whole scale of
conversation in the street, the market, the coffee-house, the law
courts, the palace, the college, and the church. There are, no doubt,
many vulgar phrases, and many blunders of the printer; but it is the
speech of business and conversation, and in every tone, from lowest to
highest.

We owe to these translators many sharp perceptions of the wit and humor
of their author, sometimes even to the adding of the point. I notice
one, which, although the translator has justified his rendering in a
note, the severer criticism of the Editor has not retained. “Were there
not a sun, we might, for all the other stars, pass our days in Reverend
Dark, as Heraclitus calls it.” I find a humor in the phrase which might
well excuse its doubtful accuracy.

       *       *       *       *       *

It is a service to our Republic to publish a book that can force
ambitious young men, before they mount the platform of the county
conventions, to read the “Laconic Apothegms” and the “Apothegms of
Great Commanders.” If we could keep the secret, and communicate it
only to a few chosen aspirants, we might confide that, by this noble
infiltration, they would easily carry the victory over all competitors.
But, as it was the desire of these old patriots to fill with their
majestic spirit all Sparta or Rome, and not a few leaders only, we
hasten to offer them to the American people.

Plutarch’s popularity will return in rapid cycles. If over-read in
this decade, so that his anecdotes and opinions become commonplace,
and to-day’s novelties are sought for variety, his sterling values
will presently recall the eye and thought of the best minds, and his
books will be reprinted and read anew by coming generations. And thus
Plutarch will be perpetually rediscovered from time to time as long as
books last.

  RALPH WALDO EMERSON




  CONTENTS OF VOLUME FIRST.

  WITH THE TRANSLATORS’ NAMES.


  A DISCOURSE TOUCHING THE TRAINING OF CHILDREN.

  BY SIMON FORD, D.D.

  Effect on children of impurity in the parents, 3; of intemperance
  in the parents, 4. Instruction and training necessary, 5. Training
  must assist nature, 5. Defective natural parts may be improved by
  instruction, 5, 6. Diligent effort may supply native deficiencies,
  6. A virtuous character partly the effect of custom and habit, 7.
  Mothers should nurse their own children, 7, 8. Manners of children
  to be well-formed from the beginning, 8. Care to be taken of their
  associates, 9. Teachers of children to be carefully chosen, 9,
  10. Moral character of teachers to be carefully regarded, 10, 11.
  Unhappy consequences of the ill-training of children, 11, 12. A good
  education preferable to the gifts of fortune, 12, 13. Learning better
  than bodily strength, 13. Children should be trained to think before
  they speak, 14, 15. A pompous style of speech to be avoided, 16.
  Tameness of speech to be avoided, 16. The principal study of youth
  should be philosophy, 17, 18. Bodily exercise not to be neglected,
  19. Gymnastic and military exercises, 19. Corporal and disgraceful
  punishments not to be used, 20. Motives to be addressed to the
  understanding and conscience, 20. Severe tasks not to be imposed
  on children, 21. Relaxation to be allowed them, 21. Memory to be
  cultivated, 22. A courteous manner of speaking to be inculcated.
  22. Self-control to be taught, 23, 24. Restraint of the tongue,
  23, 24. Sotades punished for free speech, 25. Severity to children
  unwise, 26. Young men to be restrained from vicious company, 28, 29.
  Flatterers to be avoided, 29. Allowance should be made for youthful
  impetuosity, 30. Marriage a security for young men, 31. Fathers not
  to be severe and harsh, but examples to their children, 30, 31.


  CONCERNING THE CURE OF ANGER.

  BY WILLIAM DILLINGHAM, D.D.

  How may a tendency to anger be overcome? i. 34. Not by the
  interference of other persons, 35. The mind being then under the
  influence of stormy passion, 36. The aid of reason and judgment is
  more effectual, 37. Resist the beginning of anger, 37. When inclined
  to anger, try to be quiet and composed, 38, 39. Anger is unreasonable
  and foolish, 39. It disfigures the countenance, 40. Tends to one’s
  dishonor and discredit, 41. Produces absurd and insulting speeches,
  42. Is disingenuous and unmanly, 42. Indicates a weak mind, 42.
  Discovers meanness of spirit, 43. Fortitude consists with a mild
  temper, 44. Anger can destroy, it cannot restore, 46. It often
  overreaches itself, 47. Excessive urgency often fails of success, 47.
  Forbearance towards servants urged, 48. Anger towards servants makes
  them worse, 48. Never punish in anger, 49. Allow anger to cool, 49.
  No harm arises from deferring anger, 49. Causes of anger examined;
  we think we incur contempt without it, 50; it arises from self-love,
  52; and a spirit of fault-finding, 52. The absence of these makes a
  man gentle towards others, 53, 54. Nobody can dwell with an angry
  man, 54. Anger, the essence of all bad passions, 56. Good temper in
  us will disarm others, 55. Moderate expectations prevent anger, 56.
  Knowledge of human nature softens anger, 57. Make trial for a few
  days of abstinence from anger, 59.


  OF BASHFULNESS.

  BY THOMAS HOY, FELLOW OF ST. JOHN’S COLLEGE IN OXFORD.

  Bashfulness defined, 60. Two extremes: too much or too little
  modesty; both to be avoided, 61. Bashfulness, an excess of modesty,
  61, 62. It is injurious, 62; leaves a person at the mercy of others,
  63; a bashful person is liable to imposition, 63; many are thus
  ruined, 64. Deny an unreasonable request, 65. The fear of giving
  offence—bashfulness—hinders the proper care of our health, and of
  our property, 67, 68; exposes to the very evils it seeks to avoid,
  69. The people of Asia are slaves, because they cannot say, “No,” 69.
  Deny recommendation to those not known to be worthy, 71. Undertake
  no services to which you are not competent, 72. Cheerfully render
  good offices to those that deserve them, 72; but deny them to the
  unworthy, 73. We may not violate law and justice to please anybody,
  74. Men who would dread to blunder in a matter of literature,
  often violate law, 74. Err not from the right, either from fear or
  flattery, 76. Remember what bashfulness has cost us, 77.


  THAT VIRTUE MAY BE TAUGHT.

  BY MR. PATRICK, OF THE CHARTERHOUSE.

  If men may be taught to sing, dance, and read; to be skilful
  husbandmen and good riders,—why not to order their lives aright?
  78. The practice of virtue is immensely more important than graceful
  speech and manners, 79. If things of trifling moment may be taught,
  much more things of the deepest concern, 80.


  THE ACCOUNT OF THE LAWS AND CUSTOMS OF THE LACEDAEMONIANS.

  BY MR. JOHN PULLEYN, OF TRINITY COLLEGE IN CAMBRIDGE.

  Institutions of Lycurgus, 82. The citizens ate at one table, 82.
  Conversation at the table, 82. The food: black broth, 83; spare diet,
  84. Learning, philosophy, mechanic trades, theatrical performances,
  utterly banished, 85. Scanty apparel, 86; hard beds, 86; social
  attachments, 86. A strict watch kept over the young, 87. Respect to
  the aged, 88. Control by the aged of other people’s children, 88, 89.
  Children allowed to steal, if the theft were carefully concealed,
  89. The Spartan poetry and music, 90; martial music, 91. Tenacity
  of ancient customs, 92. Funerals, 92, 93; inscriptions, 93. Foreign
  travel prohibited, 98. A community of children, 93; and of goods and
  estates, 94. Their warlike expeditions, 94. Their religious worship,
  95. The Helots, when drunk, exhibited before the children, 96. None
  but grave poetry allowed, 96. Meekness and forgiveness of injuries
  not tolerated, 97. A laconic style of speaking practised, 98.
  Whipping of boys annually before the altar of Diana, 98. Neglect of
  maritime affairs, 99. Gold and silver banished, 99. Final overthrow
  of the institutions of Lycurgus, 100.


  CONCERNING MUSIC.

  BY JOHN PHILIPS, GENT.

  Principles of Greek music: the tetrachord, heptachord, octachord;
  scale of fifteen notes, 102, 103, _note_. History of music, 104,
  _et seq._ The lyre, 105. Amphion, Linus, Anthes, Pierus, Philammon,
  Thamyras, &c., 105. Terpander, an inventor, 105, 106, 109, 112, 122.
  Olympus, 107, 109, 123; Hyagnis, 107; Clonas, 107. History of wind
  instruments, 108; the flute, _ib._ Three musical moods,—the Dorian,
  the Phrygian, the Lydian, 109. Makers of paeans, 110. The enharmonic
  species of music, 110. Its relations to the diatonic and chromatic,
  111. Varieties of rhythm, 112. The harp an invention of Apollo, 113.
  His statue at Delos a proof of this, _ib._ Manly and grave music
  used by the ancients for its worth, 114. The moderns have introduced
  an inferior sort, 114. The Lydian mood, 114; the Dorian, 115. The
  chromatic more ancient than the enharmonic scale, 116; though many
  of the ancient musicians did not use it, 117. Plato’s remarks
  on harmony, 118. Music a mathematical science, 119. Harmony as
  related to the senses, 121. Why the Greeks were so careful to teach
  their children music, 121. The high purposes of music, 121, 122.
  Archilochus, his improvements, 122, 123. Improvements of Polymnestus,
  107, 123. Improvements of Lasus, 123. Decline of the ancient music,
  123-125. To learn music, philosophy is needful, 126. Music too
  much a thing of chance, 126. A sound judgment is necessary, 127. A
  perfect judgment of music not derived from a partial knowledge, 129.
  Degeneracy of modern music, 130. Benefits of a proper acquaintance
  with music, 132; facts in proof of this, 133.


  OF THE TRANQUILLITY OF THE MIND.

  BY MATTHEW MORGAN, A.M., OF ST. JOHN’S COLLEGE IN OXFORD.

  Plutarch salutes his friend Paccius, 136. Worldly honor or wealth
  cannot procure quietness of mind, 137. We should fortify ourselves
  against trouble, _ib._ Tranquillity of mind not to be procured by
  neglect of public or private duty, _ib._ Idleness is to many an
  affliction, 138. Changes in life do not remove causes of disquiet,
  140. The mind itself renders life pleasant or otherwise, 141. Make
  the best of our circumstances, 142. Wise men derive benefit even
  from affliction, 142. No trouble can arise, but good may come of it,
  143. Be not soured with the perverseness of others, 144; nor fret at
  their failings, 145. A consideration of the good we enjoy may help
  us bear our afflictions, 146. Thus balancing one against the other,
  147. Consider what the loss would be of our present enjoyments, 148.
  Cultivate a contented mind, 148, 149. The want of which creates
  suffering, 149. Look at those worse off than ourselves, 150. Every
  one has his particular trouble, 151; therefore give no place to envy,
  _ib._ Do not repine because some things are beyond your reach, 152.
  Let every man know what he can do and be contented with doing it,
  154. Let alone what you are not capable of, 155. It is wise to call
  to mind past enjoyment, 156. Do not distress yourself by dwelling
  on past sorrows, nor give way to despondency of the future, 157,
  158. Neither be too sanguine in your hopes, 159. Afflictions come
  as a matter of necessity, 161. Outward sufferings do not reach our
  nobler part, the mind, 162. Death not a real, ultimate evil, 163. The
  wise man may look down on things terrible to the vulgar, 164. Guilt
  produces remorse, 165. A clear conscience a rich possession, 165.
  Life should be full of joy, 166. That it is not to some is their own
  fault, 167.


  OF SUPERSTITION, OR INDISCREET DEVOTION.

  BY WILLIAM BAXTER, GENT.

  Ignorance respecting God may lead either to atheism or superstition,
  168. Atheism and superstition compared, 168, _et seq._ Atheism tends
  to indifference, superstition to terror, 169. Superstition infuses
  into the mind a constant alarm and dread, 170. Superstition allows
  of no escape from fear, it permits no hope, 172. It perverts the
  moral sense, 173, 174. The atheist may be fretful and impatient; the
  superstitious man charges all his misfortunes and troubles to God,
  175. Is full of unreasonable apprehensions, 176. Converts tolerable
  evils into fatal ones, 177. Misinterprets the course of nature, 177.
  Is afraid of things that will not hurt him, 177. Allows himself no
  enjoyment, 178. Entertains dishonorable thoughts of God, 180; and
  thus is morally wrong, 181. He secretly hates God, and would have
  no God, 181. Superstition affords an apology for atheism, 152.
  Superstition of the Gauls, Scythians, and Carthaginians; they offered
  human sacrifices, 182, 183. In avoiding superstition do not fall into
  atheism, 184.


  THE APOPHTHEGMS OR REMARKABLE SAYINGS OF KINGS AND GREAT COMMANDERS,
  185-250.

  BY E. HINTON, OF WITNEY IN OXFORDSHIRE.


  RULES FOR THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH.

  BY MATTHEW POOLE, D.D., OF NORTHAMPTON.

  Introduction, 251. The hands to be kept always warm, 252. Accustom
  yourself in health to the food proper in sickness, 253. Avoid
  all excess in eating and drinking, especially at feasts, 254. Be
  prepared to excuse yourself if invited to drink to excess, 255.
  Partake of agreeable food and drink, when needful; otherwise not,
  256. Lean to the side of moderation and abstinence, rather than the
  gratification of appetite, 257. Intemperance is as destructive of
  pleasure as of health, 258. Sickness may be avoided by the use of a
  moderate diet, 259. A luxurious course of living adds to the force
  of other causes of disease, 260. Be especially careful of what you
  do, when threatened with illness, 261. When the body is out of order,
  things that are otherwise pleasant become disgusting, 262. Extreme
  carefulness in our diet should be avoided, 263. Disturbed sleep and
  distressing dreams show a diseased state of body, 264. Avoid things
  which have proved causes of disease to others, 264, 265. Reading or
  speaking aloud is to a scholar conducive to health, 266. Yet this
  must not be carried to excess, 267. The cold bath not to be used
  after exercise; use the warm bath, 268. Use solid food cautiously
  and sparingly; light food more freely, 268. Drink wine diluted with
  water, or water simply, 269, 270. After supper, there should be a
  considerable interval, to be occupied with gentle exercise either
  of body or mind, 271, 272. Sufferers from gluttony or excess should
  not attempt to relieve themselves by physic but by abstinence, 273.
  Do not fast when there is no need, 274. Idleness is not conducive to
  health, 275. After severe labor, allow the body to rest, even from
  pleasure, 276. A man should well study his own case, and know what he
  can bear, 277. The body and the mind must deal carefully with each
  other, 278, 279.


  HOW A MAN MAY RECEIVE ADVANTAGE AND PROFIT FROM HIS ENEMIES.

  BY JOHN HARTCLIFFE, FELLOW OF KING’S COLLEGE IN CAMBRIDGE.

  Ill-will always to be expected, 280. It is not enough that our
  enemies do us no harm, 281. We may not be able to change bad men into
  good men, 282. But it is possible to derive good even from bad men,
  283. An enemy, in order to discover our failings, carefully watches
  all our movements and affairs, 283. Learn from this to be wary and
  circumspect, 284. Learn to be discreet and sober, and to give offence
  to nobody, 285. Live above reproach, 286, 287. When censured and
  accused, examine if there be just cause for it, 288. Be willing
  to hear the truth even from the lips of enemies, 289. If accused
  unjustly, avoid even the appearance of the supposed wrong, 290.
  Have you given any occasion for the false accusation? 291. Learn to
  keep the tongue in subjection, 292. Be magnanimous and kind to your
  enemy, 293. Indulge no malignant passion, 294. Envy not your enemy’s
  success, 297.


  CONSOLATION TO APOLLONIUS.

  BY MATTHEW MORGAN, A.M., OF ST. JOHN’S COLLEGE IN OXFORD.

  The son of Apollonius had died, 299. Apathy and excessive grief are
  alike unnatural and improper, 300. Avoid both of these extremes,
  300. Uninterrupted happiness is not to be expected, 302. Every thing
  is subject to change, 303. Evil is to be expected, 304, 305. Sorrow
  will not remove suffering, 306, 307, Others are in trouble besides
  ourselves, 308. Why should death be considered so great an evil?
  308. Death is but the debt of nature, 309. Death is inevitable, and
  the termination of all human calamity, 310. Death is the brother of
  sleep, 311. Death divests us of the body, and thus frees us from
  great evil, 312. The gods have often sent death as a reward for
  distinguished piety; illustrated by the cases of Biton and Cleobis,
  of Agamedes and Trophonius, of Pindar and Euthynous, 313, 314. Even
  if death be the extinction of our being, it is no evil, and why,
  315. Even untimely death may shield from evil, 317. Not long life,
  but virtuous is desirable, 317, 318. Sorrow for the dead may proceed
  from selfish considerations, 319. Does the mourner intend to cherish
  grief as long as he lives? 320. Excessive grief is unmanly, 321.
  An untimely death differs not much from that which is timely, 322.
  It may be desirable, 323, 324. Excessive grief is unreasonable,
  325. The state of the dead is better than that of the living, 326.
  The evil in the world far exceeds the good, 327. Life is a loan,
  soon to be recalled, 327. Some people are querulous and can never
  be satisfied, 329. Death is fixed by fate, 331. Life is short, and
  should not be wasted in unavailing sorrow, 332. Derive comfort from
  the example of those who have borne the death of their sons bravely,
  332, 333. Providence wisely disposes, 335. Your son died at the
  best time for him, 335. He is now numbered with the blest, 336. The
  conclusion; a touching appeal to Apollonius, 339.


  CONCERNING THE VIRTUES OF WOMEN.

  BY ISAAC CHAUNCY, OF THE COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS, LONDON.

  It is right to praise virtuous women, 340. Virtue in man and woman is
  the same, 340; even as the poetic art in man and woman is the same,
  341. There may be variety, yet unity, 341. Virtue of the Trojan women
  after landing in Italy, 342. Of the Phocian women in the war with the
  Thessalians, 343. Of the women of Chios, 344. Of the Argive women and
  their repulse of the Spartan army, 346. Of the Persian women, 347.
  Of the Celtic women, 347. Of the Melian women, 348. Of the Tyrrhene
  women, 349. Of the Lycian women, 351. Of the women of Salmantica in
  Spain, 352. Of the maidens of Miletus, bent on self-murder, and how
  this was prevented, 354. Of the maids of Cios, 354. Of the women of
  Phocis during the Sacred War, 355. Of the Roman Lucretia, Valeria,
  and Cloelia, 355-357. Of Micca and Megisto, and other women of Elis,
  during the tyranny of Aristotimus, 357-363. Of Pieria and other women
  of Myus, at Miletus, 363, 364. Of Polycrita in the war between Naxos
  and Miletus, 364-366. Of Lampsace, 366. Of Aretaphila, and how she
  delivered Cyrene from tyranny, 367-371. Of Camma the Galatian, 372.
  Of Stratonica of Galatia, 373. Of Chiomara of Galatia, 374. Of the
  women of Pergamus, 374. Of Timoclea at the taking of Thebes, 376.
  Of Eryxo of Cyrene, 378. Of Xenocrita of Cumae, 380. Of Pythes the
  Lydian and his wife, 382.


  LACONIC APOPHTHEGMS; OR, REMARKABLE SAYINGS OF THE SPARTANS.

  BY THOMAS CREECH, A.M., OF WADHAM COLLEGE IN OXFORD.


  OF HEARING.

  BY THOMAS HOY, FELLOW OF ST. JOHN’S COLLEGE IN OXFORD.

  Introduction, addressed to Nicander, a young man, 441. Remarks on
  hearing in general, 442. Of the sense of hearing, as an inlet of
  thought and feeling, 442. A guard to be placed over it, 443. How
  to hear with benefit, 443. Faults to be avoided, 444. In hearing
  a discourse, hear with attention to the close, 445. Guard against
  envy and ill-nature, 445, 446. Hear with calmness and candor, 446.
  Endeavor to reap advantage from the speaker’s faults, 447. Yield not
  to undue admiration, 448. Examine the argument of the speaker apart
  from his expression, 449. Separate the substance of a discourse from
  its accessories, 450, 451. Interrupt not the speaker with trifling
  questions, 452. Propose no impertinent questions, 453. Wait till
  the proper time for asking, 453. Withhold not praise when it is
  due, 454. Yet bestow not inordinate praise, 455. Something worthy
  of praise may be found in every discourse, 456. The hearer owes a
  duty to the speaker no less than the speaker to the hearer, 457. Be
  not indiscriminate in your praises, 458. Bear admonition in a proper
  spirit, 459. If you find difficulties in the lecturer’s instructions,
  ask him to explain, 460, 461. Concluding exhortation, 462, 463.


  OF LARGE ACQUAINTANCE: OR, AN ESSAY TO PROVE THE FOLLY OF SEEKING
  MANY FRIENDS.

  BY W. G.

  True friendship a thing of rare occurrence, 464. In the early times,
  friends went in pairs, Orestes and Pylades, &c., 465. True friendship
  cannot embrace a multitude, 466. If we have numerous acquaintances,
  there should be one eminently a friend, 466. The requisites to a
  true friendship, 467. The difficulty of finding a true friend, 467.
  Be not hasty in getting friends, 468. Admit none to your confidence
  without long and thorough trial, 468. As true friendship cements two
  hearts into one, so a large acquaintance divides and distracts the
  heart, 469. We cannot discharge the obligations of friendship to
  a multitude, 470; therefore do not attempt it, 471. Joining one’s
  self intimately to another involves one in his calamities, 472. Real
  friendship always has its origin in likeness, even in brutes, 472.
  There must be a substantial oneness, 473. Therefore it is next to a
  miracle to find a constant and sure friend, 474.


  CONCERNING THE FORTUNE OR VIRTUE OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT.

  BY JOHN PHILIPS, GENT.

  Did he receive his empire as the gift of Fortune? By no means, 475.
  It was acquired at the expense of many severe wounds, 476, 507; of
  many hardships and much daring, 477; as the issue of his training
  under Aristotle, 478. He was himself a great philosopher, 479. He
  was the great civilizer of Asia, 480. He realized the dreams of
  philosophers by making the world his country, 481. Uniting the Greeks
  and the barbarians, 482. Gaining the affection of the vanquished,
  483. Aiming to establish universal brotherhood, 484. His philosophy
  as exhibited in his recorded sayings, 485-489. His generous conduct,
  490. His patronage of learned men, 491. So different from other
  monarchs, 492. His magnanimity, 495. Such a man owes little to
  Fortune, 496. Contrasted with Sardanapalus, 497. His greatness as
  seen in the confusion which followed his death, 498. Fortune cannot
  make an Alexander, 499. His silly imitators attest his greatness,
  501. His self-government, 502. The Persian empire was overthrown, not
  by Fortune, but by the superior genius and virtue of Alexander, 503.
  Alexander owed nothing to Fortune, 506. His wisdom, his prowess, his
  many wounds, his constancy and energy, procured his great success,
  507-511. Compared with the ablest men of antiquity, he is superior
  to all, 512, 513. His daring courage, great dangers, and marvellous
  escape, while besieging a town of the Oxydracae, 513-516.

  INDEX




  PLUTARCH’S MORALS.

  VOL. I.




  PLUTARCH’S MORALS.




  A DISCOURSE TOUCHING THE TRAINING OF CHILDREN.


1. The course which ought to be taken for the training of free-born
children, and the means whereby their manners may be rendered
virtuous, will, with the reader’s leave, be the subject of our present
disquisition.

2. In the management of which, perhaps it may be expedient to take
our rise from their very procreation. I would therefore, in the first
place, advise those who desire to become the parents of famous and
eminent children, that they keep not company with all women that they
light on; I mean such as harlots, or concubines. For such children
as are blemished in their birth, either by the father’s or the
mother’s side, are liable to be pursued, as long as they live, with
the indelible infamy of their base extraction, as that which offers a
ready occasion to all that desire to take hold of it of reproaching and
disgracing them therewith. So that it was a wise speech of the poet who
said,—

    Misfortune on that family’s entailed,
    Whose reputation in its founder failed.[1]

Wherefore, since to be well born gives men a good stock of confidence,
the consideration hereof ought to be of no small value to such as
desire to leave behind them a lawful issue. For the spirits of men who
are alloyed and counterfeit in their birth are naturally enfeebled and
debased; as rightly said the poet again,—

    A bold and daring spirit is often daunted.
    When with the guilt of parents’ crimes ’tis haunted.[2]

So, on the contrary, a certain loftiness and natural gallantry of
spirit is wont to fill the breasts of those who are born of illustrious
parents. Of which Diophantus, the young son of Themistocles, is a
notable instance; for he is reported to have made his boast often and
in many companies, that whatsoever pleased him pleased also all Athens:
for whatever he liked, his mother liked; and whatever his mother liked,
Themistocles liked; and whatever Themistocles liked, all the Athenians
liked. Wherefore it was gallantly done of the Lacedaemonian States,
when they laid a round fine on their king Archidamus for marrying a
little woman, giving this reason for their so doing: that he meant to
beget for them not kings, but kinglings.

3. The advice which I am, in the next place, about to give, is, indeed,
no other than what hath been given by those who have undertaken this
argument before me. You will ask me what is that? It is this: that no
man keep company with his wife for issue’s sake but when he is sober,
having drunk either no wine, or at least not such a quantity as to
distemper him; for they usually prove wine-bibbers and drunkards, whose
parents begot them when they were drunk. Wherefore Diogenes said to a
stripling somewhat crack-brained and half-witted: Surely, young man,
thy father begot thee when he was drunk. Let this suffice to be spoken
concerning the procreation of children: and let us pass thence to their
education.

4. And here, to speak summarily, what we are wont to say of arts
and sciences may be said also concerning virtue: that there is a
concurrence of three things requisite to the completing thereof in
practice,—which are nature, reason, and use. Now by reason here I
would be understood to mean learning; and by use, exercise. Now the
principles come from instruction, the practice comes from exercise,
and perfection from all three combined. And accordingly as either
of the three is deficient, virtue must needs be defective. For if
nature be not improved by instruction, it is blind; if instruction
be not assisted by nature, it is maimed; and if exercise fail of the
assistance of both, it is imperfect as to the attainment of its end.
And as in husbandry it is first requisite that the soil be fertile,
next that the husbandman be skilful, and lastly that the seed he sows
be good; so here nature resembles the soil, the instructor of youth the
husbandman, and the rational principles and precepts which are taught,
the seed. And I would peremptorily affirm that all these met and
jointly conspired to the completing of the souls of those universally
celebrated men, Pythagoras, Socrates, and Plato, together with all
others whose eminent worth hath gotten them immortal glory. And happy
is that man certainly, and well-beloved of the Gods, on whom by the
bounty of any of them all these are conferred.

And yet if any one thinks that those in whom Nature hath not thoroughly
done her part may not in some measure make up her defects, if they be
so happy as to light upon good teaching, and withal apply their own
industry towards the attainment of virtue, he is to know that he is
very much, nay, altogether, mistaken. For as a good natural capacity
may be impaired by slothfulness, so dull and heavy natural parts may
be improved by instruction; and whereas negligent students arrive not
at the capacity of understanding the most easy things, those who are
industrious conquer the greatest difficulties. And many instances we
may observe, that give us a clear demonstration of the mighty force
and successful efficacy of labor and industry. For water continually
dropping will wear hard rocks hollow; yea, iron and brass are worn out
with constant handling. Nor can we, if we would, reduce the felloes of
a cart-wheel to their former straightness, when once they have been
bent by force; yea, it is above the power of force to straighten the
bended staves sometimes used by actors upon the stage. So far is that
which labor effects, though against nature, more potent than what is
produced according to it. Yea, have we not many millions of instances
more which evidence the force of industry? Let us see in some few that
follow. A man’s ground is of itself good; yet, if it be unmanured, it
will contract barrenness; and the better it was naturally, so much
the more is it ruined by carelessness, if it be ill-husbanded. On
the other side, let a man’s ground be more than ordinarily rough and
rugged; yet experience tells us that, if it be well manured, it will be
quickly made capable of bearing excellent fruit. Yea, what sort of tree
is there which will not, if neglected, grow crooked and unfruitful;
and what but will, if rightly ordered, prove fruitful and bring its
fruit to maturity? What strength of body is there which will not lose
its vigor and fall to decay by laziness, nice usage, and debauchery?
And, on the contrary, where is the man of never so crazy a natural
constitution, who cannot render himself far more robust, if he will
only give himself to exercises of activity and strength? What horse
well managed from a colt proves not easily governable by the rider? And
where is there one to be found which, if not broken betimes, proves not
stiff-necked and unmanageable? Yea, why need we wonder at any thing
else when we see the wildest beasts made tame and brought to hand by
industry? And lastly, as to men themselves, that Thessalian answered
not amiss, who, being asked which of his countrymen were the meekest,
replied: Those that have received their discharge from the wars.

But what need of multiplying more words in this matter, when even the
notion of the word ἦθος in the Greek language imports continuance,
and he that should call moral virtues customary virtues would seem to
speak not incongruously? I shall conclude this part of my discourse,
therefore, with the addition of one only instance. Lycurgus, the
Lacedaemonian lawgiver, once took two whelps of the same litter, and
ordered them to be bred in a quite different manner; whereby the one
became dainty and ravenous, and the other of a good scent and skilled
in hunting; which done, a while after he took occasion thence in an
assembly of the Lacedaemonians to discourse in this manner: Of great
weight in the attainment of virtue, fellow-citizens, are habits,
instruction, precepts, and indeed the whole manner of life,—as I will
presently let you see by example. And, withal, he ordered the producing
those two whelps into the midst of the hall, where also there were set
down before them a plate and a live hare. Whereupon, as they had been
bred, the one presently flies upon the hare, and the other as greedily
runs to the plate. And while the people were musing, not perfectly
apprehending what he meant by producing those whelps thus, he added:
These whelps were both of one litter, but differently bred; the one,
you see, has turned out a greedy cur, and the other a good hound. And
this shall suffice to be spoken concerning custom and different ways of
living.

5. The next thing that falls under our consideration is the nursing
of children, which, in my judgment, the mothers should do themselves,
giving their own breasts to those they have borne. For this office
will certainly be performed with more tenderness and carefulness by
natural mothers, who will love their children intimately, as the saying
is, from their tender nails.[3] Whereas, both wet and dry nurses, who
are hired, love only for their pay, and are affected to their work
as ordinarily those that are substituted and deputed in the place of
others are. Yea, even Nature seems to have assigned the suckling and
nursing of the issue to those that bear them; for which cause she hath
bestowed upon every living creature that brings forth young, milk to
nourish them withal. And, in conformity thereto, Providence hath also
wisely ordered that women should have two breasts, that so, if any of
them should happen to bear twins, they might have two several springs
of nourishment ready for them. Though, if they had not that furniture,
mothers would still be more kind and loving to their own children.
And that not without reason; for constant feeding together is a great
means to heighten the affection mutually betwixt any persons. Yea, even
beasts, when they are separated from those that have grazed with them,
do in their way show a longing for the absent. Wherefore, as I have
said, mothers themselves should strive to the utmost to nurse their own
children. But if they find it impossible to do it themselves, either
because of bodily weakness (and such a case may fall out), or because
they are apt to be quickly with child again, then are they to choose
the honestest nurses they can get, and not to take whomsoever they have
offered them. And the first thing to be looked after in this choice
is, that the nurses be bred after the Greek fashion. For as it is
needful that the members of children be shaped aright as soon as they
are born, that they may not afterwards prove crooked and distorted, so
it is no less expedient that their manners be well fashioned from the
very beginning. For childhood is a tender thing, and easily wrought
into any shape. Yea, and the very souls of children readily receive the
impressions of those things that are dropped into them while they are
yet but soft; but when they grow older, they will, as all hard things
are, be more difficult to be wrought upon. And as soft wax is apt to
take the stamp of the seal, so are the minds of children to receive
the instructions imprinted on them at that age. Whence, also, it seems
to me good advice which divine Plato gives to nurses, not to tell all
sorts of common tales to children in infancy, lest thereby their minds
should chance to be filled with foolish and corrupt notions.[4] The
like good counsel Phocylides, the poet, seems to give in this verse of
his:—

    If we’ll have virtuous children, we should choose
    Their tenderest age good principles to infuse.

6. Nor are we to omit taking due care, in the first place, that those
children who are appointed to attend upon such young nurslings, and
to be bred with them for play-fellows, be well-mannered, and next
that they speak plain, natural Greek; lest, being constantly used to
converse with persons of a barbarous language and evil manners, they
receive corrupt tinctures from them. For it is a true proverb, that if
you live with a lame man, you will learn to halt.

7. Next, when a child is arrived at such an age as to be put under the
care of pedagogues, great care is to be used that we be not deceived in
them, and so commit our children to slaves or barbarians or cheating
fellows. For it is a course never enough to be laughed at which many
men nowadays take in this affair; for if any of their servants be
better than the rest, they dispose some of them to follow husbandry,
some to navigation, some to merchandise, some to be stewards in their
houses, and some, lastly, to put out their money to use for them. But
if they find any slave that is a drunkard or a glutton, and unfit
for any other business, to him they assign the government of their
children; whereas, a good pedagogue ought to be such a one in his
disposition as Phoenix, tutor to Achilles, was.

And now I come to speak of that which is a greater matter, and of more
concern than any that I have said. We are to look after such masters
for our children as are blameless in their lives, not justly reprovable
for their manners, and of the best experience in teaching. For the very
spring and root of honesty and virtue lies in the felicity of lighting
on good education. And as husbandmen are wont to set forks to prop up
feeble plants, so do honest schoolmasters prop up youth by careful
instructions and admonitions, that they may duly bring forth the buds
of good manners. But there are certain fathers nowadays who deserve
that men should spit on them in contempt, who, before making any proof
of those to whom they design to commit the teaching of their children,
either through unacquaintance, or, as it sometimes falls out, through
unskilfulness, intrust them to men of no good reputation, or, it may
be, such as are branded with infamy. Although they are not altogether
so ridiculous, if they offend herein through unskilfulness; but it
is a thing most extremely absurd, when, as oftentimes it happens,
though they know and are told beforehand, by those who understand
better than themselves, both of the inability and rascality of certain
schoolmasters, they nevertheless commit the charge of their children
to them, sometimes overcome by their fair and flattering speeches,
and sometimes prevailed on to gratify friends who entreat them. This
is an error of like nature with that of the sick man, who, to please
his friends, forbears to send for the physician that might save his
life by his skill, and employs a mountebank that quickly dispatcheth
him out of the world; or of him who refuses a skilful shipmaster, and
then, at his friend’s entreaty, commits the care of his vessel to one
that is therein much his inferior. In the name of Jupiter and all
the Gods, tell me how can that man deserve the name of a father, who
is more concerned to gratify others in their requests, than to have
his children well educated? Or, is not that rather fitly applicable
to this case, which Socrates, that ancient philosopher, was wont to
say,—that, if he could get up to the highest place in the city, he
would lift up his voice and make this proclamation thence: “What mean
you, fellow-citizens, that you thus turn every stone to scrape wealth
together, and take so little care of your children, to whom, one day,
you must relinquish it all?”—to which I would add this, that such
parents do like him that is solicitous about his shoe, but neglects the
foot that is to wear it. And yet many fathers there are, who so love
their money and hate their children, that, lest it should cost them
more than they are willing to spare to hire a good schoolmaster for
them, they rather choose such persons to instruct their children as are
of no worth; thereby beating down the market, that they may purchase
ignorance cheap. It was, therefore, a witty and handsome jeer which
Aristippus bestowed on a sottish father, who asked him what he would
take to teach his child. He answered, A thousand drachms. Whereupon
the other cried out: O Hercules, what a price you ask! for I can buy
a slave at that rate. Do so, then, said the philosopher, and thou
shalt have two slaves instead of one,—thy son for one, and him thou
buyest for another. Lastly, how absurd it is, when thou accustomest thy
children to take their food with their right hands, and chidest them if
they receive it with their left, yet thou takest no care at all that
the principles that are infused into them be right and regular.

And now I will tell you what ordinarily is like to befall such
prodigious parents, when they have had their sons ill nursed and worse
taught. For when such sons are arrived at man’s estate, and, through
contempt of a sound and orderly way of living, precipitate themselves
into all manner of disorderly and servile pleasures, then will those
parents dearly repent of their own neglect of their children’s
education, when it is too late to amend it; and vex themselves,
even to distraction, at their vicious courses. For then do some of
those children acquaint themselves with flatterers and parasites, a
sort of infamous and execrable persons, the very pests that corrupt
and ruin young men; others maintain mistresses and harlots, insolent
and extravagant; others waste their substance; others, again, come
to shipwreck on gaming and revelling. And some venture on still more
audacious crimes, committing adultery and joining in the orgies of
Bacchus, being ready to purchase one bout of debauched pleasure at
the price of their lives. If now they had but conversed with some
philosopher, they would never have enslaved themselves to such courses
as these; though possibly they might have learned at least to put in
practice the precept of Diogenes, delivered by him indeed in rude
language, but yet containing, as to the scope of it, a great truth,
when he advised a young man to go to the public stews, that he might
then inform himself, by experience, how things of greatest value and
things of no value at all were there of equal worth.

8. In brief therefore I say (and what I say may justly challenge the
repute of an oracle rather than of advice), that the one chief thing
in this matter—which compriseth the beginning, middle, and end of
all—is good education and regular instruction; and that these two
afford great help and assistance towards the attainment of virtue and
felicity. For all other good things are but human and of small value,
such as will hardly recompense the industry required to the getting
of them. It is, indeed, a desirable thing to be well descended; but
the glory belongs to our ancestors. Riches are valuable; but they are
the goods of Fortune, who frequently takes them from those that have
them, and carries them to those that never so much as hoped for them.
Yea, the greater they are, the fairer mark are they for those to aim
at who design to make our bags their prize; I mean evil servants and
accusers. But the weightiest consideration of all is, that riches may
be enjoyed by the worst as well as the best of men. Glory is a thing
deserving respect, but unstable; beauty is a prize that men fight to
obtain, but, when obtained, it is of little continuance; health is a
precious enjoyment, but easily impaired; strength is a thing desirable,
but apt to be the prey of diseases and old age. And, in general, let
any man who values himself upon strength of body know that he makes a
great mistake; for what indeed is any proportion of human strength,
if compared to that of other animals, such as elephants and bulls
and lions? But learning alone, of all things in our possession, is
immortal and divine. And two things there are that are most peculiar
to human nature, reason and speech; of which two, reason is the master
of speech, and speech is the servant of reason, impregnable against
all assaults of fortune, not to be taken away by false accusation, nor
impaired by sickness, nor enfeebled by old age. For reason alone grows
youthful by age; and time, which decays all other things, increaseth
knowledge in us in our decaying years. Yea, war itself, which like a
winter torrent bears down all other things before it and carries them
away with it, leaves learning alone behind. Whence the answer seems
to me very remarkable, which Stilpo, a philosopher of Megara, gave
to Demetrius, who, when he levelled that city to the ground and made
all the citizens bondmen, asked Stilpo whether he had lost any thing.
Nothing, said he, for war cannot plunder virtue. To this saying that
of Socrates also is very agreeable; who, when Gorgias (as I take it)
asked him what his opinion was of the king of Persia, and whether he
judged him happy, returned answer, that he could not tell what to
think of him, because he knew not how he was furnished with virtue and
learning,—as judging human felicity to consist in those endowments,
and not in those which are subject to fortune.

9. Moreover, as it is my advice to parents that they make the breeding
up of their children to learning the chiefest of their care, so I here
add, that the learning they ought to train them up unto should be sound
and wholesome, and such as is most remote from those trifles which suit
the popular humor. For to please the many is to displease the wise. To
this saying of mine that of Euripides himself bears witness:—

    I’m better skilled to treat a few, my peers,
    Than in a crowd to tickle vulgar ears;
    Though others have the luck on’t, when they babble
    Most to the wise, then most to please the rabble.[5]

Besides, I find by my own observation, that those persons who make it
their business to speak so as to deserve the favor and approbation
of the scum of the people, ordinarily live at a suitable rate,
voluptuously and intemperately. And there is reason for it. For they
who have no regard to what is honest, so they may make provision for
other men’s pleasures, will surely not be very propense to prefer what
is right and wholesome before that which gratifies their own inordinate
pleasures and luxurious inclinations, and to quit that which humors
them for that which restrains them.

If any one ask what the next thing is wherein I would have children
instructed, and to what further good qualities I would have them
inured, I answer, that I think it advisable that they neither speak nor
do any thing rashly; for, according to the proverb, the best things
are the most difficult. But extemporary discourses are full of much
ordinary and loose stuff, nor do such speakers well know where to
begin or where to make an end. And besides other faults which those
who speak suddenly are commonly guilty of, they are commonly liable to
this great one, that they multiply words without measure; whereas,
premeditation will not suffer a man to enlarge his discourse beyond a
due proportion. To this purpose it is reported of Pericles, that, being
often called upon by the people to speak, he would not, because (as he
said) he was unprepared. And Demosthenes also, who imitated him in the
managery of public affairs, when the Athenians urged him to give his
counsel, refused it with this answer: I have not yet prepared myself.
Though it may be that this story is a mere fiction, brought down to us
by uncertain tradition, without any credible author. But Demosthenes,
in his oration against Midias, clearly sets forth the usefulness of
premeditation. For there he says: “I confess, O ye Athenians! that
I came hither provided to speak; and I will by no means deny that
I have spent my utmost study upon the composing this oration. For
it had been a pitiful omission in me, if, having suffered and still
suffering such things, I should have neglected that which in this
cause was to be spoken by me.”[6] But here I would not be understood
altogether to condemn all readiness to discourse extempore, nor yet
to allow the use of it upon such occasions as do not require it; but
we are to use it only as we do physic. Still, before a person arrives
at complete manhood, I would not permit him to speak upon any sudden
incident occasion; though, after he has attained a radicated faculty
of speaking, he may allow himself a greater liberty, as opportunity is
offered. For as they who have been a long time in chains, when they are
at last set at liberty, are unable to walk, on account of their former
continual restraint, and are very apt to trip, so they who have been
used to a fettered way of speaking a great while, if upon any occasion
they be enforced to speak on a sudden, will hardly be able to express
themselves without some tokens of their former confinement. But to
permit those that are yet children to speak extemporally is to give
them occasion for extremely idle talk. A wretched painter, they say,
showing Apelles a picture, told him withal that he had taken a very
little time to paint it. If thou hadst not told me so, said Apelles, I
see cause enough to believe it was a hasty draught; but I wonder that
in that space of time thou hast not painted many more such pictures.

I advise therefore (for I return now to the subject that I have
digressed from) the shunning and avoiding, not merely of a starched,
theatrical, and over-tragical form of speaking, but also of that which
is too low and mean. For that which is too swelling is not fit for the
managery of public affairs; and that, on the other side, which is too
thin is very inapt to work any notable impression upon the hearers.
For as it is not only requisite that a man’s body be healthy, but also
that it be of a firm constitution, so ought a discourse to be not only
sound, but nervous also. For though such as is composed cautiously may
be commended, yet that is all it can arrive at; whereas that which hath
some adventurous passages in it is admired also. And my opinion is the
same concerning the affections of the speaker’s mind. For he must be
neither of a too confident nor of a too mean and dejected spirit; for
the one is apt to lead to impudence, the other to servility; and much
of the orator’s art, as well as great circumspection, is required to
direct his course skilfully betwixt the two.

And now (whilst I am handling this point concerning the instruction
of children) I will also give you my judgment concerning the frame of
a discourse; which is this, that to compose it in all parts uniformly
not only is a great argument of a defect in learning, but also is apt,
I think, to nauseate the auditory when it is practised; and in no case
can it give lasting pleasure. For to sing the same tune, as the saying
is, is in every thing cloying and offensive; but men are generally
pleased with variety, as in speeches and pageants, so in all other
entertainments.

10. Wherefore, though we ought not to permit an ingenuous child
entirely to neglect any of the common sorts of learning, so far as
they may be gotten by lectures or from public shows; yet I would
have him to salute these only as in his passage, taking a bare taste
of each of them (seeing no man can possibly attain to perfection in
all), and to give philosophy the pre-eminence of them all. I can
illustrate my meaning by an example. It is a fine thing to sail round
and visit many cities, but it is profitable to fix our dwelling in
the best. Witty also was the saying of Bias, the philosopher, that,
as the wooers of Penelope, when they could not have their desire of
the mistress, contented themselves to have to do with her maids, so
commonly those students who are not capable of understanding philosophy
waste themselves in the study of those sciences that are of no value.
Whence it follows, that we ought to make philosophy the chief of all
our learning. For though, in order to the welfare of the body, the
industry of men hath found out two arts,—medicine, which assists to
the recovery of lost health, and gymnastics, which help us to attain
a sound constitution,—yet there is but one remedy for the distempers
and diseases of the mind, and that is philosophy. For by the advice and
assistance thereof it is that we come to understand what is honest,
and what dishonest; what is just, and what unjust; in a word, what we
are to seek, and what to avoid. We learn by it how we are to demean
ourselves towards the Gods, towards our parents, our elders, the laws,
strangers, governors, friends, wives, children, and servants. That is,
we are to worship the Gods, to honor our parents, to reverence our
elders, to be subject to the laws, to obey our governors, to love our
friends, to use sobriety towards our wives, to be affectionate to our
children, and not to treat our servants insolently; and (which is the
chiefest lesson of all) not to be overjoyed in prosperity nor too much
dejected in adversity; not to be dissolute in our pleasures, nor in
our anger to be transported with brutish rage and fury. These things
I account the principal advantages which we gain by philosophy. For to
use prosperity generously is the part of a man; to manage it so as to
decline envy, of a well governed man; to master our pleasures by reason
is the property of wise men; and to moderate anger is the attainment
only of extraordinary men. But those of all men I count most complete,
who know how to mix and temper the managery of civil affairs with
philosophy; seeing they are thereby masters of two of the greatest good
things that are,—a life of public usefulness as statesmen, and a life
of calm tranquillity as students of philosophy. For, whereas there are
three sorts of lives,—the life of action, the life of contemplation,
and the life of pleasure,—the man who is utterly abandoned and a slave
to pleasure is brutish and mean-spirited; he that spends his time
in contemplation without action is an unprofitable man; and he that
lives in action and is destitute of philosophy is a rustical man, and
commits many absurdities. Wherefore we are to apply our utmost endeavor
to enable ourselves for both; that is, to manage public employments,
and withal, at convenient seasons, to give ourselves to philosophical
studies. Such statesmen were Pericles and Archytas the Tarentine; such
were Dion the Syracusan and Epaminondas the Theban, both of whom were
of Plato’s familiar acquaintance.

I think it not necessary to spend many more words about this point,
the instruction of children in learning. Only it may be profitable at
least, or even necessary, not to omit procuring for them the writings
of ancient authors, but to make such a collection of them as husbandmen
are wont to do of all needful tools. For of the same nature is the use
of books to scholars, as being the tools and instruments of learning,
and withal enabling them to derive knowledge from its proper fountains.

11. In the next place, the exercise of the body must not be neglected;
but children must be sent to schools of gymnastics, where they may have
sufficient employment that way also. This will conduce partly to a more
handsome carriage, and partly to the improvement of their strength.
For the foundation of a vigorous old age is a good constitution of
the body in childhood. Wherefore, as it is expedient to provide those
things in fair weather which may be useful to the mariners in a storm,
so is it to keep good order and govern ourselves by rules of temperance
in youth, as the best provision we can lay in for age. Yet must they
husband their strength, so as not to become dried up (as it were) and
destitute of strength to follow their studies. For, according to Plato,
sleep and weariness are enemies to the arts.[7]

But why do I stand so long on these things? I hasten to speak of that
which is of the greatest importance, even beyond all that has been
spoken of; namely, I would have boys trained for the contests of wars
by practice in the throwing of darts, shooting of arrows, and hunting
of wild beasts. For we must remember in war the goods of the conquered
are proposed as rewards to the conquerors. But war does not agree with
a delicate habit of body, used only to the shade; for even one lean
soldier that hath been used to military exercises shall overthrow
whole troops of mere wrestlers who know nothing of war. But, somebody
may say, whilst you profess to give precepts for the education of all
free-born children, why do you carry the matter so as to seem only to
accommodate those precepts to the rich, and neglect to suit them also
to the children of poor men and plebeians? To which objection it is
no difficult thing to reply. For it is my desire that all children
whatsoever may partake of the benefit of education alike; but if yet
any persons, by reason of the narrowness of their estates, cannot make
use of my precepts, let them not blame me that give them, but Fortune,
which disableth them from making the advantage by them they otherwise
might. Though even poor men must use their utmost endeavor to give
their children the best education; or, if they cannot, they must bestow
upon them the best that their abilities will reach. Thus much I thought
fit here to insert in the body of my discourse, that I might the
better be enabled to annex what I have yet to add concerning the right
training of children.

12. I say now, that children are to be won to follow liberal studies
by exhortations and rational motives, and on no account to be forced
thereto by whipping or any other contumelious punishments. I will not
urge that such usage seems to be more agreeable to slaves than to
ingenuous children; and even slaves, when thus handled, are dulled and
discouraged from the performance of their tasks, partly by reason of
the smart of their stripes, and partly because of the disgrace thereby
inflicted. But praise and reproof are more effectual upon free-born
children than any such disgraceful handling; the former to incite them
to what is good, and the latter to restrain them from that which is
evil. But we must use reprehensions and commendations alternately, and
of various kinds according to the occasion; so that when they grow
petulant, they may be shamed by reprehension, and again, when they
better deserve it, they may be encouraged by commendations. Wherein
we ought to imitate nurses, who, when they have made their infants
cry, stop their mouths with the nipple to quiet them again. It is also
useful not to give them such large commendations as to puff them up
with pride; for this is the ready way to fill them with a vain conceit
of themselves, and to enfeeble their minds.

13. Moreover, I have seen some parents whose too much love to their
children hath occasioned, in truth, their not loving them at all. I
will give light to this assertion by an example to those who ask
what it means. It is this: while they are over-hasty to advance their
children in all sorts of learning beyond their equals, they set them
too hard and laborious tasks, whereby they fall under discouragement;
and this, with other inconveniences accompanying it, causeth them
in the issue to be ill affected to learning itself. For as plants
by moderate watering are nourished, but with over-much moisture are
glutted, so is the spirit improved by moderate labors, but overwhelmed
by such as are excessive. We ought therefore to give children some
time to take breath from their constant labors, considering that
all human life is divided betwixt business and relaxation. To which
purpose it is that we are inclined by nature not only to wake, but to
sleep also; that as we have sometimes wars, so likewise at other times
peace; as some foul, so other fair days; and, as we have seasons of
important business, so also the vacation times of festivals. And, to
contract all in a word, rest is the sauce of labor. Nor is it thus in
living creatures only, but in things inanimate too. For even in bows
and harps, we loosen their strings, that we may bend and wind them up
again. Yea, it is universally seen that, as the body is maintained by
repletion and evacuation, so is the mind by employment and relaxation.

Those parents, moreover, are to be blamed who, when they have committed
their sons to the care of pedagogues or schoolmasters, never see or
hear them perform their tasks; wherein they fail much of their duty.
For they ought, ever and anon, after the intermission of some days, to
make trial of their children’s proficiency; and not intrust their hopes
of them to the discretion of a hireling. For even that sort of men will
take more care of the children, when they know that they are regularly
to be called to account. And here the saying of the king’s groom is
very applicable, that nothing made the horse so fat as the king’s eye.

But we must most of all exercise and keep in constant employment the
memory of children; for that is, as it were, the storehouse of all
learning. Wherefore the mythologists have made Mnemosyne, or Memory,
the mother of the Muses, plainly intimating thereby that nothing doth
so beget or nourish learning as memory. Wherefore we must employ it to
both those purposes, whether the children be naturally apt or backward
to remember. For so shall we both strengthen it in those to whom Nature
in this respect hath been bountiful, and supply that to others wherein
she hath been deficient. And as the former sort of boys will thereby
come to excel others, so will the latter sort excel themselves. For
that of Hesiod was well said,—

    Oft little add to little, and the account
      Will swell: heapt atoms thus produce a mount.[8]

Neither, therefore, let the parents be ignorant of this, that the
exercising of memory in the schools doth not only give the greatest
assistance towards the attainment of learning, but also to all the
actions of life. For the remembrance of things past affords us examples
in our consults about things to come.

14. Children ought to be made to abstain from speaking filthily,
seeing, as Democritus said, words are but the shadows of actions.
They are, moreover, to be instructed to be affable and courteous in
discourse. For as churlish manners are always detestable, so children
may be kept from being odious in conversation, if they will not be
pertinaciously bent to maintain all they say in dispute. For it is
of use to a man to understand not only how to overcome, but also how
to give ground when to conquer would turn to his disadvantage. For
there is such a thing sometimes as a Cadmean victory; which the wise
Euripides attesteth, when he saith,—

    Where two discourse, if the one’s anger rise,
      The man who lets the contest fall is wise.[9]

Add we now to these things some others of which children ought to have
no less, yea, rather greater care; to wit, that they avoid luxurious
living, bridle their tongues, subdue anger, and refrain their hands.
Of how great moment each of these counsels is, I now come to inquire;
and we may best judge of them by examples. To begin with the last:
some men there have been, who, by opening their hands to take what
they ought not, have lost all the honor they got in the former part
of their lives. So Gylippus the Lacedaemonian,[10] for unsewing the
public money-bags, was condemned to banishment from Sparta. And to be
able also to subdue anger is the part of a wise man. Such a one was
Socrates; for when a hectoring and debauched young man rudely kicked
him, so that those in his company, being sorely offended, were ready to
run after him and call him to account for it, What, said he to them,
if an ass had kicked me, would you think it handsomely done to kick
him again? And yet the young man himself escaped not unpunished; for
when all persons reproached him for so unworthy an act, and gave him
the nickname of Λακτιστής, or the kicker, he hanged himself. The same
Socrates,—when Aristophanes, publishing his play which he called the
Clouds, therein threw all sorts of the foulest reproaches upon him,
and a friend of his, who was present at the acting of it, repeated to
him what was there said in the same comical manner, asking him withal,
Does not this offend you, Socrates?—replied: Not at all, for I can as
well bear with a fool in a play as at a great feast. And something of
the same nature is reported to have been done by Archytas of Tarentum
and Plato. Archytas, when, upon his return from the war, wherein he
had been a general, he was informed that his land had been impaired
by his bailiff’s negligence, sent for him, and said only thus to him
when he came: If I were not very angry with thee, I would severely
correct thee. And Plato, being offended with a gluttonous and debauched
servant, called to him Speusippus, his sister’s son, and said unto him:
Go beat thou this fellow; for I am too much offended with him to do it
myself.

These things, you will perhaps say, are very difficult to be imitated.
I confess it; but yet we must endeavor to the utmost of our power,
by setting such examples before us, to repress the extravagancy of
our immoderate, furious anger. For neither are we able to rival the
experience or virtue of such men in many other matters; but we do,
nevertheless, as sacred interpreters of divine mysteries and priests
of wisdom, strive to follow these examples, and, as it were, to enrich
ourselves with what we can nibble from them.

And as to the bridling of the tongue, concerning which also I am
obliged to speak, if any man think it a small matter or of mean
concernment, he is much mistaken. For it is a point of wisdom to
be silent when occasion requires, and better than to speak, though
never so well. And, in my judgment, for this reason the ancients
instituted mystical rites of initiation in religion, that, being in
them accustomed to silence, we might thence transfer the fear we have
of the Gods to the fidelity required in human secrets. Yea, indeed,
experience shows that no man ever repented of having kept silence; but
many that they have not done so. And a man may, when he will, easily
utter what he hath by silence concealed; but it is impossible for him
to recall what he hath once spoken. And, moreover, I can remember
infinite examples that have been told me of those that have procured
great damages to themselves by intemperance of the tongue; one or two
of which I will give, omitting the rest. When Ptolemaeus Philadelphus
had taken his sister Arsinoe to wife, Sotades for breaking an obscene
jest[11] upon him lay languishing in prison a great while; a punishment
which he deserved for his unseasonable babbling, whereby to provoke
laughter in others he purchased a long time of mourning to himself.
Much after the same rate, or rather still worse, did Theocritus the
Sophist both talk and suffer. For when Alexander commanded the Grecians
to provide him a purple robe, wherein, upon his return from the wars,
he meant to sacrifice to the Gods in gratitude for his victorious
success against the barbarians, and the various states were bringing in
the sums assessed upon them, Theocritus said: I now see clearly that
this is what Homer calls purple death, which I never understood before.
By which speech he made the king his enemy from that time forwards.
The same person provoked Antigonus, the king of Macedonia, to great
wrath, by reproaching him with his defect, as having but one eye. Thus
it was. Antigonus commanded Eutropion his master-cook (then in waiting)
to go to this Theocritus and settle some accounts with him. And when
he announced his errand to Theocritus, and called frequently about the
business, the latter said: I know that thou hast a mind to dish me up
raw to that Cyclops; thus reproaching at once the king with the want of
his eye, and the cook with his employment. To which Eutropion replied:
Then thou shalt lose thy head, as the penalty of thy loquacity and
madness. And he was as good as his word; for he departed and informed
the king, who sent and put Theocritus to death.

Besides all these things, we are to accustom children to speak the
truth, and to account it, as indeed it is, a matter of religion for
them to do so. For lying is a servile quality, deserving the hatred of
all mankind; yea, a fault for which we ought not to forgive our meanest
servants.

15. Thus far have I discoursed concerning the good breeding of
children, and the sobriety requisite to that age, without any
hesitation or doubt in my own mind concerning any thing that I have
said. But in what remains to be said, I am dubious and divided in my
own thoughts, which, as if they were laid in a balance, sometimes
incline this, and sometimes that way. I am therefore loath to persuade
or dissuade in the matter. But I must venture to answer one question,
which is this: whether we ought to admit those that make love to our
sons to keep them company, or whether we should not rather thrust them
out of doors, and banish them from their society. For when I look upon
those straightforward parents, of a harsh and austere temper, who think
it an outrage not to be endured that their sons should have any thing
to say to lovers, I am tender of being the persuader or encourager of
such a practice. But, on the other side, when I call to mind Socrates,
and Plato, and Xenophon, and Aeschines, and Cebes, with an whole troop
of other such men, who have approved those masculine loves, and still
have brought up young men to learning, public employments, and virtuous
living, I am again of another mind, and am much influenced by my zeal
to imitate such great men. And the testimony also of Euripides is
favorable to their opinion, when he says,—

    Another love there is in mortals found;
    The love of just and chaste and virtuous souls.[12]

And yet I think it not improper here to mention withal that saying of
Plato, spoken betwixt jest and earnest, that men of great eminence must
be allowed to show affection to what beautiful objects they please.[13]
I would decide then that parents are to keep off such as make beauty
the object of their affection, and admit altogether such as direct
the love to the soul; whence such loves are to be avoided as are in
Thebes and Elis, and that sort which in Crete they call ravishment
(ἁρπαγμός);[14] and such are to be imitated as are in Athens and Sparta.

16. But in this matter let every man follow his own judgment. Thus
far have I discoursed concerning the right ordering and decent
carriage of children. I will now pass thence, to speak somewhat
concerning the next age, that of youth. For I have often blamed the
evil custom of some, who commit their boys in childhood to pedagogues
and teachers, and then suffer the impetuosity of their youth to range
without restraint; whereas boys of that age need to be kept under a
stricter guard than children. For who does not know that the errors
of childhood are small, and perfectly capable of being amended; such
as slighting their pedagogues, or disobedience to their teachers’
instructions. But when they begin to grow towards maturity, their
offences are oftentimes very great and heinous; such as gluttony,
pilfering money from their parents, dicing, revellings, drunkenness,
courting of maidens, and defiling of marriage-beds. Wherefore it is
expedient that such impetuous heats should with great care be kept
under and restrained. For the ripeness of that age admits no bounds
in its pleasures, is skittish, and needs a curb to check it; so that
those parents who do not hold in their sons with great strength about
that time find to their surprise that they are giving their vicious
inclinations full swing in the pursuit of the vilest actions. Wherefore
it is a duty incumbent upon wise parents, in that age especially, to
set a strict watch upon them, and to keep them within the bounds of
sobriety by instructions, threatenings, entreaties, counsels, promises,
and by laying before them examples of those men (on one side) who
by immoderate love of pleasures have brought themselves into great
mischief, and of those (on the other) who by abstinence in the pursuit
of them have purchased to themselves very great praise and glory. For
these two things (hope of honor, and fear of punishment) are, in a
sort, the first elements of virtue; the former whereof spurs men on the
more eagerly to the pursuit of honest studies, while the latter blunts
the edge of their inclinations to vicious courses.

17. And in sum, it is necessary to restrain young men from the
conversation of debauched persons, lest they take infection from their
evil examples. This was taught by Pythagoras in certain enigmatical
sentences, which I shall here relate and expound, as being greatly
useful to further virtuous inclinations. Such are these. Taste not of
fish that have black tails; that is, converse not with men that are
smutted with vicious qualities. Stride not over the beam of the scales;
wherein he teacheth us the regard we ought to have for justice, so as
not to go beyond its measures. Sit not on a choenix; wherein he forbids
sloth, and requires us to take care to provide ourselves with the
necessaries of life. Do not strike hands with every man; he means we
ought not to be over hasty to make acquaintances or friendships with
others. Wear not a tight ring; that is, we are to labor after a free
and independent way of living, and to submit to no fetters. Stir not
up the fire with a sword; signifying that we ought not to provoke a
man more when he is angry already (since this is a most unseemly act),
but we should rather comply with him while his passion is in its heat.
Eat not thy heart; which forbids to afflict our souls, and waste them
with vexatious cares. Abstain from beans; that is, keep out of public
offices, for anciently the choice of the officers of state was made by
beans. Put not food in a chamber-pot; wherein he declares that elegant
discourse ought not to be put into an impure mind; for discourse is the
food of the mind, which is rendered unclean by the foulness of the man
who receives it. When men are arrived at the goal, they should not turn
back; that is, those who are near the end of their days, and see the
period of their lives approaching, ought to entertain it contentedly,
and not to be grieved at it.

But to return from this digression,—our children, as I have said, are
to be debarred the company of all evil men, but especially flatterers.
For I would still affirm what I have often said in the presence of
divers fathers, that there is not a more pestilent sort of men than
these, nor any that more certainly and speedily hurry youth into
precipices. Yea, they utterly ruin both fathers and sons, making the
old age of the one and the youth of the other full of sorrow, while
they cover the hook of their evil counsels with the unavoidable bait
of voluptuousness. Parents, when they have good estates to leave
their children, exhort them to sobriety, flatterers to drunkenness;
parents exhort to continence, these to lasciviousness; parents to
good husbandry, these to prodigality; parents to industry, these to
slothfulness. And they usually entertain them with such discourses as
these: The whole life of man is but a point of time; let us enjoy it
therefore while it lasts, and not spend it to no purpose. Why should
you so much regard the displeasure of your father?—an old doting fool,
with one foot already in the grave, and ’tis to be hoped it will not
be long ere we carry him thither altogether. And some of them there
are who procure young men foul harlots, yea, prostitute wives to them;
and they even make a prey of those things which the careful fathers
have provided for the sustenance of their old age. A cursed tribe!
True friendship’s hypocrites, they have no knowledge of plain dealing
and frank speech. They flatter the rich, and despise the poor; and
they seduce the young, as by a musical charm. When those who feed them
begin to laugh, then they grin and show their teeth. They are mere
counterfeits, bastard pretenders to humanity, living at the nod and
beck of the rich; free by birth, yet slaves by choice, who always think
themselves abused when they are not so, because they are not supported
in idleness at others’ cost. Wherefore, if fathers have any care for
the good breeding of their children, they ought to drive such foul
beasts as these out of doors. They ought also to keep them from the
companionship of vicious school-fellows, for these are able to corrupt
the most ingenuous dispositions.

18. These counsels which I have now given are of great worth and
importance; what I have now to add touches certain allowances that are
to be made to human nature. Again therefore I would not have fathers
of an over-rigid and harsh temper, but so mild as to forgive some
slips of youth, remembering that they themselves were once young.
But as physicians are wont to mix their bitter medicines with sweet
syrups, to make what is pleasant a vehicle for what is wholesome, so
should fathers temper the keenness of their reproofs with lenity.
They may occasionally loosen the reins, and allow their children to
take some liberties they are inclined to, and again, when it is fit,
manage them with a straighter bridle. But chiefly should they bear
their errors without passion, if it may be; and if they chance to be
heated more than ordinary, they ought not to suffer the flame to burn
long. For it is better that a father’s anger be hasty than severe;
because the heaviness of his wrath, joined with unplacableness, is no
small argument of hatred towards the child. It is good also not to
discover the notice they take of divers faults, and to transfer to
such cases that dimness of sight and hardness of hearing that are wont
to accompany old age; so as sometimes not to hear what they hear, nor
to see what they see, of their children’s miscarriages. We use to bear
with some failings in our friends, and it is no wonder if we do the
like to our children, especially when we sometimes overlook drunkenness
in our very servants. Thou hast at times been too straight-handed to
thy son; make him at other whiles a larger allowance. Thou hast, it
may be, been too angry with him; pardon him the next fault to make
him amends. He hath made use of a servant’s wit to circumvent thee in
something; restrain thy anger. He hath made bold to take a yoke of oxen
out of the pasture, or he hath come home smelling of his yesterday’s
drink; take no notice of it; and if of ointments too, say nothing.
For by this means the wild colt sometimes is made more tame. Besides,
for those who are intemperate in their youthful lusts, and will not
be amended by reproof, it is good to provide wives; for marriage is
the strongest bond to hamper wild youth withal. But we must take care
that the wives we procure for them be neither of too noble a birth
nor of too great a portion to suit their circumstances; for it is a
wise saying, drive on your own track.[15] Whereas men that marry women
very much superior to themselves are not so truly husbands to their
wives, as they are unawares made slaves to their portions. I will add
a few words more, and put an end to these advices. The chiefest thing
that fathers are to look to is, that they themselves become effectual
examples to their children, by doing all those things which belong to
them and avoiding all vicious practices, that in their lives, as in a
glass, their children may see enough to give them an aversion to all
ill words and actions. For those that chide children for such faults
as they themselves fall into unconsciously accuse themselves, under
their children’s names. And if they are altogether vicious in their own
lives, they lose the right of reprehending their very servants, and
much more do they forfeit it towards their sons. Yea, what is more than
that, they make themselves even counsellors and instructors to them in
wickedness. For where old men are impudent, there of necessity must the
young men be so too. Wherefore we are to apply our minds to all such
practices as may conduce to the good breeding of our children. And here
we may take example from Eurydice of Hierapolis, who, although she was
an Illyrian, and so thrice a barbarian, yet applied herself to learning
when she was well advanced in years, that she might teach her children.
Her love towards her children appears evidently in this Epigram of
hers, which she dedicated to the Muses:—

    Eurydice to the Muses here doth raise
    This monument, her honest love to praise;
    Who her grown sons that she might scholars breed,
    Then well in years, herself first learned to read.

And thus have I finished the precepts which I designed to give
concerning this subject. But that they should all be followed by any
one reader is rather, I fear, to be wished than hoped. And to follow
the greater part of them, though it may not be impossible to human
nature, yet will need a concurrence of more than ordinary diligence
joined with good fortune.




CONCERNING THE CURE OF ANGER.

A DIALOGUE.


SYLLA, FUNDANUS.

1. SYLLA. Those painters, O Fundanus, in my opinion do very wisely, who
never finish any piece at the first sitting, but take a review of it
at some convenient distance of time; because the eye, being relieved
for a time, renews its power by making frequent and fresh judgments,
and becomes able to observe many small and critical differences which
continual poring and familiarity would prevent it from noticing. Now,
because it cannot be that a man should stand off from himself and
interrupt his consciousness, and then after some interval return to
accost himself again (which is one principal reason why a man is a
worse judge of himself than of other men), the next best course that a
man can take will be to inspect his friends after some time of absence,
and also to offer himself to their examination, not to see whether he
be grown old on the sudden, or whether the habit of his body be become
better or worse than it was before, but that they may take notice of
his manner and behavior, whether in that time he hath made any advance
in goodness, or gained ground of his vices. Wherefore, being after
two years’ absence returned to Rome, and having since conversed with
thee here again for these five months, I think it no great matter of
wonder that those good qualities which, by the advantage of a good
natural disposition, you were formerly possessed of, have in this time
received so considerable an increase. But truly, when I behold how that
vehement and fiery disposition which you had to anger is now through
the conduct of reason become so gentle and tractable, my mind prompts
me to say, with Homer,—

    O wonder! how much gentler is he grown![16]

Nor hath this gentleness produced in thee any laziness or irresolution;
but, like cultivation in the earth, it hath caused an evenness and a
profundity very effectual unto fruitful action, instead of thy former
vehemency and over-eagerness. And therefore it is evident that thy
former proneness to anger hath not been withered in thee by any decay
of vigor which age might have effected, or spontaneously; but that it
hath been cured by making use of some mollifying precepts.

And indeed, to tell you the truth, when I heard our friend Eros say
the same thing, I had a suspicion that he did not report the thing as
it was, but that out of mere good-will he testified those things of
you which ought to be found in every good and virtuous man. And yet
you know he cannot be easily induced to depart from what he judges to
be true, in order to favor any man. But now, truly, as I acquit him of
having therein made any false report of thee, so I desire thee, being
now at leisure from thy journey, to declare unto us the means and (as
it were) the medicine, by use whereof thou hast brought thy mind to be
thus manageable and natural, thus gentle and obedient unto reason.

FUNDANUS. But in the mean while, O most kind Sylla, you had best
beware, lest you also through affection and friendship may be somewhat
careless in making an estimate of my affairs. For Eros, having himself
also a mind oft-times unable to keep its ground and to contain
itself within that obedience which Homer mentions, but subject to be
exasperated through an hatred of men’s wickedness, may perhaps think
I am grown more mild; just as in music, when the key is changed, that
note which before was the base becomes a higher note with respect to
others which are now below it.

SYLLA. Neither of these is so, Fundanus; but, I pray you, gratify us
all by granting the request I made.

2. FUNDANUS. This then, O Sylla, is one of those excellent rules given
by Musonius which I bear in memory,—that those who would be in sound
health must physic themselves all their lives. Now I do not think that
reason cures, like hellebore, by purging out itself together with
the disease it cures, but by keeping possession of the soul, and so
governing and guarding its judgments. For the power of reason is not
like drugs, but like wholesome food; and, with the assistance of a good
natural disposition, it produceth a healthful constitution in all with
whom it hath become familiar.

And as for those good exhortations and admonitions which are applied
to passions while they swell and are at their height, they work but
slowly and with small success; and they differ in nothing from those
strong-smelling things, which indeed do serve to put those that have
the falling sickness upon their legs again after they are fallen, but
are not able to remove the disease. For whereas other passions, even
when they are in their ruff and acme, do in some sort yield and admit
reason into the soul, which comes to help it from without; anger does
not, as Melanthius says,—

    Displace the mind, and then act dismal things;

but it absolutely turns the mind out of doors, and bolts the door
against it; and, like those who burn their houses and themselves within
them, it makes all things within full of confusion, smoke, and noise,
so that the soul can neither see nor hear any thing that might relieve
it. Wherefore sooner will an empty ship in a storm at sea admit of a
pilot from without, than a man tossed with anger and rage listen to
the advice of another, unless he have his own reason first prepared to
entertain it.

But as those who expect to be besieged are wont to gather together and
lay in provisions of such things as they are like to need, not trusting
to hopes of relief from without, so ought it to be our special concern
to fetch in from philosophy such foreign helps as it affords against
anger, and to store them up in the soul beforehand, seeing that it
will not be so easy a matter to provide ourselves when the time is
come for using them. For either the soul cannot hear what is spoken
without, by reason of the tumult, unless it have its own reason (like
the director of the rowers in a ship) ready to entertain and understand
whatsoever precept shall be given; or, if it do chance to hear, yet
will it be ready to despise what is patiently and mildly offered, and
to be exasperated by what shall be pressed upon it with more vehemency.
For, since wrath is proud and self-conceited, and utterly averse from
compliance with others, like a fortified and guarded tyranny, that
which is to overthrow it must be bred within it and be of its own
household.

3. Now the continuance of anger and frequent fits of it produce an evil
habit in the soul called wrathfulness, or a propensity to be angry,
which oft-times ends in choleric temper, bitterness, and moroseness.
Then the mind becomes ulcerated, peevish, and querulous, and like a
thin, weak plate of iron, receives impression and is wounded by even
the least occurrence; but when the judgment presently seizes upon
wrathful ebullitions and suppresses them, it not only works a cure
for the present, but renders the soul firm and not so liable to such
impressions for the future. And truly, when I myself had twice or
thrice made a resolute resistance unto anger, the like befell me that
did the Thebans; who, having once foiled the Lacedaemonians, that
before that time had held themselves invincible, never after lost so
much as one battle which they fought against them. For I became fully
assured in my mind, that anger might be overcome by the use of reason.
And I perceived that it might not only be quieted by the sprinkling of
cold water, as Aristotle relates, but also be extinguished by putting
one into a fright. Yea, according to Homer, many men have had their
anger melted and dissipated by sudden surprise of joy. So that I came
to this firm resolution, that this passion is not altogether incurable
to such as are but willing to be cured; since the beginnings and
occasions of it are not always great or forcible; but a scoff, or a
jest, or the laughing at one, or a nod only, or some other matter of
no great importance, will put many men into a passion. Thus Helen, by
addressing her niece in the words beginning,—

    O my Electra, now a virgin stale,

provoked her to make this nipping return:—

    Thou’rt wise too late, thou shouldst have kept at home.[17]

And so did Callisthenes provoke Alexander by saying, when the great
bowl was going round, I will not drink so deep in honor of Alexander,
as to make work for Aesculapius.

4. As therefore it is an easy matter to stop the fire that is kindled
only in hare’s wool, candle-wick, or a little chaff, but if it have
once taken hold of matter that hath solidity and thickness, it soon
inflames and consumes, as Aeschylus says,—

    With youthful vigor the carpenter’s lofty work;

so he that observes anger while it is in its beginning, and sees it
by degrees smoking and taking fire from some speech or chaff-like
scurrility, need take no great pains to extinguish it, but oftentimes
can put an end to it only by silence or neglect. For as he that adds
no fuel to the fire hath already as good as put it out, so he that
doth not feed anger at the first, nor blow the fire in himself,
hath prevented and destroyed it. Wherefore Hieronymus, although he
taught many other useful things, yet hath given me no satisfaction in
saying that anger is not perceptible in its birth, by reason of its
suddenness, but only after its birth and while it lives; for there is
no other passion, while it is gathering and stirring up, which hath its
rise and increase so conspicuous and observable. This is very skilfully
taught by Homer, by making Achilles suddenly surprised with grief as
soon as ever the word fell on his ear, saying of him,—

    This said, a sable cloud of grief covered him o’er;[18]

but making Agamemnon grow angry slowly and need many words to inflame
him, so that, if these had been stopped and forbidden when they began,
the contest had never grown to that degree and greatness which it did.
Wherefore Socrates, as oft as he perceived any fierceness of spirit
to rise within him towards any of his friends, setting himself like a
promontory to break the waves, would speak with a lower voice, bear
a smiling countenance, and look with a more gentle eye; and thus, by
bending the other way and moving contrary to the passion, he kept
himself from falling or being worsted.

5. For the first way, my friend, to suppress anger, as you would a
tyrant, is not to obey or yield to it when it commands us to speak
high, to look fiercely, and to beat ourselves; but to be quiet, and
not increase the passion, as we do a disease, by impatient tossing and
crying out. It is true that lovers’ practices, such as revelling,
singing, crowning the door with garlands, have a kind of alleviation in
them which is neither rude nor unpleasing:—

    Coming, I asked not who or whose she was,
    But kissed her door full sweetly,—that I wot;
    If this be sin, to sin I can but choose.

So the weeping and lamentation which we permit in mourners doubtless
carry forth much of the grief together with the tears. But anger, quite
on the contrary, is more inflamed by what the angry persons say or do.

The best course then is for a man to compose himself, or else to run
away and hide himself and retreat into quiet, as into an haven, as if
he perceived a fit of epilepsy coming on, lest he fall, or rather fall
upon others; and truly we do most and most frequently fall upon our
friends. For we neither love all, nor envy all, nor fear all men; but
there is nothing untouched and unset upon by anger. We are angry with
our foes and with our friends; with our own children and our parents;
nay, with the Gods above, and the very beasts below us, and instruments
that have no life, as Thamyras was,—

    His horn, though bound with gold, he brake in’s ire,
    He brake his melodious and well-strung lyre;[19]

and Pandarus, wishing a curse upon himself if he did not burn his bow.

    First broken by his hands.[20]

But Xerxes dealt blows and marks of his displeasure to the sea itself,
and sent his letters to the mountain in the style ensuing: “O thou
wretched Athos, whose top now reaches to the skies, I charge thee, put
not in the way of my works stones too big and difficult to be wrought.
If thou do, I will cut thee into pieces, and cast thee into the sea.”

For anger hath many terrible effects, and many also that are
ridiculous; and therefore of all passions, this of anger is most hated
and most contemned, and it is good to consider it in both respects.

6. I therefore, whether rightly or not I know not, began this cure
with learning the nature of anger by beholding it in other men, as the
Lacedaemonians learned what drunkenness was by seeing it in the Helots.
And, in the first place, as Hippocrates said that that was the most
dangerous disease which made the sick man’s countenance most unlike
to what it was, so I observed that men transported with anger also
exceedingly change their visage, color, gait, and voice. Accordingly
I formed a kind of image of that passion to myself, withal conceiving
great indignation against myself if I should at any time appear to my
friends, or to my wife and daughters, so terrible and discomposed,
not only with so wild and strange a look, but also with so fierce and
harsh a voice, as I had met with in some others of my acquaintance,
who by reason of anger were not able to observe either good manners
or countenance or graceful speech, or even their persuasiveness and
affability in conversation.

Wherefore Caius Gracchus, the orator, being of a rugged disposition
and a passionate kind of speaker, had a pipe made for him, such as
musicians use to vary their voice higher or lower by degrees; and with
this pipe his servant stood behind him while he pronounced, and gave
him a mild and gentle note, whereby he took him down from his loudness,
and took off the harshness and angriness of his voice, assuaging and
charming the anger of the orator,

    As their shrill wax-joined reed who herds do keep
    Sounds forth sweet measures, which invite to sleep.[21]

For my own part, had I a careful and pleasant companion who would show
me my angry face in a glass, I should not at all take it ill. In like
manner, some are wont to have a looking-glass held to them after
they have bathed, though to little purpose; but to behold one’s self
unnaturally disguised and disordered will conduce not a little to the
impeachment of anger. For those who delight in pleasant fables tell
us, that Minerva herself, playing on a pipe was thus admonished by a
satyr:—

    That look becomes you not, lay down your pipes,
    And take your arms, and set your cheeks to rights;

but would not regard it; yet, when by chance she beheld the mien of her
countenance in a river, she was moved with indignation, and cast her
pipes away; and yet here art had the delight of melody to comfort her
for the deformity. And Marsyas, as it seems, did with a kind of muzzle
and mouth-piece restrain by force the too horrible eruption of his
breath when he played, and so corrected and concealed the distortion of
his visage:—

    With shining gold he girt his temples rough,
    And his wide mouth with thongs that tied behind.

Now anger doth swell and puff up the countenance very indecently, and
sends forth a yet more indecent and unpleasant voice,—

    Moving the heart-strings, which should be at rest.

For when the sea is tossed and troubled with winds, and casts up moss
and sea-weed, they say it is purged; but those impure, bitter, and
vain words which anger throws up when the soul has become a kind of
whirlpool, defile the speakers, in the first place, and fill them with
dishonor, arguing them to have always had such things in them and to
be full of them, only now they are discovered to have them by their
anger. So for a mere word, the lightest of things (as Plato says),
they undergo the heaviest of punishments, being ever after accounted
enemies, evil speakers, and of a malignant disposition.

7. While now I see all this and bear it in mind, the thought occurs to
me, and I naturally consider by myself, that as it is good for one in a
fever, so much better is it for one in anger, to have his tongue soft
and smooth. For if the tongue in a fever be unnaturally affected, it is
indeed an evil symptom, but not a cause of harm; but when the tongue of
angry men becomes rough and foul, and breaks out into absurd speeches,
it produces insults which work irreconcilable hatred, and proves that a
poisonous malevolence lies festering within. For wine does not make men
vent any thing so impure and odious as anger doth; and, besides, what
proceeds from wine is matter for jest and laughter, but that from anger
is mixed with gall and bitterness. And he that is silent in his cups is
counted a burthen, and a bore to the company, whereas in anger there is
nothing more commended than peace and silence; as Sappho adviseth,—-

    When anger once is spread within thy breast,
    Shut up thy tongue, that vainly barking beast.

8. Nor doth the constant observation of ourselves in anger minister
these things only to our consideration, but it also gives us to
understand another natural property of anger, how disingenuous and
unmanly a thing it is, and how far from true wisdom and greatness of
mind. Yet the vulgar account the angry man’s turbulence to be his
activity, his loud threats to argue boldness, and his refractoriness
strength; as also some mistake his cruelty for an undertaking of great
matters, his implacableness for a firmness of resolution, and his
morosity for an hatred of that which is evil. For, in truth, both the
deeds and motions and the whole mien of angry men do accuse them of
much littleness and infirmity, not only when they vex little children,
scold silly women, and think dogs and horses and asses worthy of their
anger and deserving to be punished (as Ctesiphon the Pancratiast, who
vouchsafed to kick the ass that had kicked him first); but even in
their tyrannical slaughters, their mean-spiritedness appearing in their
bitterness, and their suffering exhibited outwardly in their actions,
are but like to the biting of serpents who, when they themselves become
burnt and full of pain, violently thrust the venom that inflames them
from themselves into those that have hurt them. For as a great blow
causes a great swelling in the flesh, so in the softest souls the
giving way to a passion for hurting others, like a stroke on the soul,
doth make it to swell with anger; and all the more, the greater is its
weakness.

For this cause it is that women are more apt to be angry than men are,
and sick persons than the healthful, and old men than those who are in
their perfect age and strength, and men in misery than such as prosper.
For the covetous man is most prone to be angry with his steward, the
glutton with his cook, the jealous man with his wife, the vain-glorious
person with him that speaks ill of him; but of all men there are none
so exceedingly disposed to be angry as those who are ambitious of
honor, and affect to carry on a faction in a city, which (according
to Pindar) is but a splendid vexation. In like manner, from the great
grief and suffering of the soul, through weakness especially, there
ariseth anger, which is not like the nerves of the soul (as one spake),
but like its straining and convulsive motions when it vehemently stirs
itself up in its desires and endeavors of revenge.

9. Indeed such evil examples as these afford us speculations which are
necessary, though not pleasant. But now, from those who have carried
themselves mildly and gently in their anger, I shall present you with
most excellent sayings and beautiful contemplations; and I begin to
contemn such as say, You have wronged a man indeed, and is a man
to bear this?—Stamp on his neck, tread him down in the dirt,—and
such like provoking speeches, whereby some do very unhandsomely
translate and remove anger from the women’s to the men’s apartment.
For fortitude, which in other respects agrees with justice, seems
only to disagree in respect of mildness, which she claims as more
properly her own. For it sometimes befalls even worser men to bear
rule over those who are better than themselves; but to erect a trophy
in the soul against anger (which Heraclitus says it is an hard thing
to fight against, because whatever it resolves to have, it buys at no
less a price than the soul itself) is that which none but a great and
victorious power is able to achieve, since that alone can bind and curb
the passions by its decrees, as with nerves and tendons.

Wherefore I always strive to collect and read not only the sayings and
deeds of philosophers, who (wise men say) had no gall in them, but
especially those of kings and tyrants. Of this sort was the saying of
Antigonus to his soldiers, when, as some were reviling him near his
tent supposing that he had not heard them, he stretched his staff out
of the tent, and said: What! will you not stand somewhere farther off,
while you revile me? So was that of Arcadio the Achaean, who was ever
speaking ill of Philip, exhorting men to flee

    Till they should come where none would Philip know.

When afterwards by some accident he appeared in Macedonia, Philip’s
friends were of opinion that he ought not to be suffered, but be
punished; but Philip meeting him and speaking courteously to him, and
then sending him gifts, particularly such as were wont to be given to
strangers, bade him learn for the time to come what to speak of him
to the Greeks. And when all testified that the man was become a great
praiser of Philip, even to admiration, You see, said Philip, I am a
better physician than you. And when he had been reproached at the
Olympic solemnities, and some said it was fit to make the Grecians
smart and rue it for reviling Philip, who had dealt well with them,
What then, said he, will they do, if I make them smart? Those things
also which Pisistratus did to Thrasybulus, and Porsena to Mutius, were
bravely done; and so was that of Magas to Philemon, for having been
by him exposed to laughter in a comedy on the public stage, in these
words:—

    Magas, the king hath sent thee letters:
    Unhappy Magas, thou dost know no letters.

And having taken Philemon as he was by a tempest cast on shore at
Paraetonium, he commanded a soldier only to touch his neck with his
naked sword and to go quietly away; and then having sent him a ball
and huckle-bones, as if he were a child that wanted understanding, he
dismissed him. Ptolemy was once jeering a grammarian for his want of
learning, and asked him who was the father of Peleus: I will answer you
(quoth he) if you will tell me first who was the father of Lagus. This
jeer gave the king a rub for the obscurity of his birth, whereat all
were moved with indignation, as a thing not to be endured. But, said
Ptolemy, if it is not fit for a king to be jeered, then no more is it
fit for him to jeer others. But Alexander was more severe than he was
wont in his carriage towards Calisthenes and Clitus. Wherefore Porus,
being taken captive by him, desired him to treat him like a king; and
when Alexander asked him if he desired no more, he answered, When I say
like a king, I have comprised all. And hence it is that they call the
king of the Gods Meilichius, while the Athenians, I think, call him
Maimactes; but the office of punishing they ascribe to the Furies and
evil Genii, never giving it the epithet of divine or heavenly.

10. As therefore one said of Philip, when he razed the city of
Olynthus, But he is not able to build such another city; so may it
be said to anger, Thou canst overthrow, and destroy, and cut down;
but to restore, to save, to spare, and to bear with, is the work of
gentleness and moderation, of a Camillus, a Metellus, an Aristides,
and a Socrates; but to strike the sting into one and to bite is the
part of pismires and horse-flies. And truly, while I well consider
revenge, I find that the way which anger takes for it proves for the
most part ineffectual, being spent in biting the lips, gnashing the
teeth, vain assaults, and railings fall of silly threats; and then it
acts like children in a race, who, for want of governing themselves,
tumble down ridiculously before they come to the goal towards which
they are hastening. Hence that Rhodian said not amiss to the servant of
the Roman general, who spake loudly and fiercely to him, It matters not
much what thou sayest, but what this your master in silence thinks. And
Sophocles, having introduced Neoptolemus and Eurypylus in full armor,
gave a high commendation of them when he said,—

    Into the hosts of brazen-armed men
    Each boldly charged, but ne’er reviled his foe.

Some indeed of the barbarians poison their swords; but true valor has
no need of choler, as being dipped in reason; but anger and fury are
weak and easily broken. Wherefore the Lacedaemonians are wont by the
sounding of pipes to take off the edge of anger from their soldiers,
when they fight; and before they go to battle, to sacrifice to the
Muses, that they may have the steady use of their reason; and when
they have put their enemies to flight, they pursue them not, but sound
a retreat (as it were) to their wrath, which, like a short dagger,
can easily be handled and drawn back. But anger makes slaughter of
thousands before it can avenge itself, as it did of Cyrus and Pelopidas
the Theban. Agathocles, being reviled by some whom he besieged, bore it
with mildness; and when one said to him, O Potter, whence wilt thou
have pay for thy mercenary soldiers? he answered with laughter, From
your city, if I can take it. And when some one from the wall derided
Antigonus for his deformity, he answered, I thought surely I had a
handsome face: and when he had taken the city, he sold those for slaves
who had scoffed at him, protesting that, if they reviled him so again,
he would call them to account before their masters.

Furthermore, I observe that hunters and orators are wont to be much
foiled by anger. Aristotle reports that the friends of Satyrus once
stopped his ears with wax, when he was to plead a cause, that so
he might not confound the matter through anger at the revilings of
his enemies. Do we not ourselves oftentimes miss of punishing an
offending servant, because he runs away from us in fright when he
hears our threatening words? That therefore which nurses say to little
children—Do not cry, and thou shalt have it—-may not unfitly be
applied to our mind when angry. Be not hasty, neither speak too loud,
nor be too urgent, and so what you desire will be sooner and better
accomplished. For as a father, when he sees his son about to cleave or
cut something with an hatchet, takes the hatchet himself and doth it
for him; so one taking the work of revenge out of the hand of anger
doth himself, without danger or hurt, yea, with profit also, inflict
punishment on him that deserves it, and not on himself instead of him,
as anger oft-times doth.

11. Now, whereas all passions do stand in need of discipline, which by
exercise tames and subdues their unreasonableness and stubbornness,
there is none about which we have more need to be exercised in
reference to servants than that of anger. For neither do we envy nor
fear them, nor have we any competition for honor with them; but we
have frequent fits of anger with them, which cause many offences and
errors, by reason of the very power possessed by us as masters, and
which bring us easily to the ground, as if we stood in a slippery
place with no one standing by to save us. For it is impossible to keep
an irresponsible power from offending in the excitement of passion,
unless we gird up that great power with gentleness, and can slight
the frequent speeches of wife and friends accusing us of remissness.
And indeed I myself have by nothing more than by such speeches been
incensed against my servants, as if they were spoiled for want of
beating. And truly it was late before I came to understand, that it
was better that servants should be something the worse by indulgence,
than that one should distort himself through wrath and bitterness
for the amendment of others. And secondly, observing that many by
this very impunity have been brought to be ashamed to be wicked, and
have begun their change to virtue more from being pardoned than from
being punished, and that they have obeyed some upon their nod only,
peaceably, and more willingly than they have done others with all their
beating and scourging, I became persuaded of this, that reason was
fitter to govern with than anger. For it is not as the poet said,—

    Wherever fear is, there is modesty;

but, on the contrary, it is in the modest that that fear is bred which
produces moderation, whereas continual and unmerciful beating doth
not make men repent of doing evil, but only devise plans for doing it
without being detected. And in the third place I always remember and
consider with myself, that as he who taught us the art of shooting did
not forbid us to shoot, but only to shoot amiss, so no more can it be
any hindrance from punishing to teach us how we may do it seasonably
and moderately, with benefit and decency. I therefore strive to put
away anger, especially by not denying the punished a liberty to plead
for themselves, but granting them an hearing. For time gives a
breathing-space unto passion, and a delay which mitigates and dissolves
it; and a man’s judgment in the mean while finds out both a becoming
manner and a proportionable measure of punishing. And moreover hereby,
he that is punished hath not any pretence left him to object against
the correction given him, if he is punished not out of anger, but being
first himself convinced of his fault. And finally we are here saved
from the greatest disgrace of all, for by this means the servant will
not seem to speak more just things than his master.

As therefore Phocion after the death of Alexander, to hinder the
Athenians from rising too soon or believing it too hastily, said: O
Athenians, if he is dead to-day, he will be so to-morrow, and on the
next day after that; in like manner do I judge one ought to suggest to
himself, who through anger is making haste to punish: If it is true
to-day that he hath thus wronged thee, it will be true to-morrow, and
on the next day, also. Nor will there any inconvenience follow upon
the deferring of his punishment for a while; but if he be punished all
in haste, he will ever after seem to have been innocent, as it hath
oftentimes fallen out heretofore. For which of us all is so cruel as
to torment or scourge a servant because, five or ten days before, he
burnt the meat, or overturned the table, or did not soon enough what
he was bidden? And yet it is for just such things as these, while they
are fresh and newly done, that we are so disordered, and become cruel
and implacable. For as bodies through a mist, so actions through anger
seem greater than they are. Wherefore we ought speedily to recall such
considerations as these are to our mind; and when we are unquestionably
out of passion, if then to a pure and composed reason the deed do
appear to be wicked, we ought to animadvert, and no longer neglect or
abstain from punishment, as if we had lost our appetite for it. For
there is nothing to which we can more justly impute men’s punishing
others in their anger, than to a habit of not punishing them when their
anger is over, but growing remiss, and doing like lazy mariners, who in
fair weather keep loitering within the haven, and then put themselves
in danger by setting sail when the wind blows strong. So we likewise,
condemning the remissness and over-calmness of our reason in punishing,
make haste to do it while our anger is up, pushing us forward like a
dangerous wind.

He that useth food doth it to gratify his hunger, which is natural; but
he that inflicts punishment should do it without either hungering or
thirsting after it, not needing anger, like sauce, to whet him on to
punish; but when he is farthest off from desiring it, then he should
do it as a deed of necessity under the guidance of reason. And though
Aristotle reports, that in his time servants in Etruria were wont to
be scourged while the music played, yet they who punish others ought
not to be carried on with a desire of punishing, as of a thing they
delight in, nor to rejoice when they punish, and then repent of it
when they have done,—whereof the first is savage, the last womanish;
but, without either sorrow or pleasure, they should inflict just
punishment when reason is free to judge, leaving no pretence for anger
to intermeddle.

12. But this perhaps may seem to be not a cure of anger, but only a
thrusting by and avoiding of such miscarriages as some men fall into
when they are angry. And yet, as Hieronymus tells us, although the
swelling of the spleen is but a symptom of the fever, the assuaging
thereof abates the disease. But, considering well the origin of anger
itself, I have observed that divers men fall into anger for different
causes; and yet in the minds of all of them was probably an opinion
of being despised and neglected. We must therefore assist those who
would avoid anger, by removing the act which roused their anger as
far as possible from all suspicion of contempt or insult, and by
imputing it rather to folly or necessity or disorder of mind, or to the
misadventure of those that did it. Thus Sophocles in Antigone:—

    The best resolved mind in misery
    Can’t keep its ground, but suffers ecstasy.[22]

And so Agamemnon, ascribing to Ate the taking away of Briseis, adds:—

    Since I so foolish was as thee to wrong,
    I’ll please thee now, and give thee splendid gifts.[23]

For supplication is an act of one who is far from contemning; and when
he that hath done an injury appears submissive, he thereby removes all
suspicion of contempt. But he that is moved to anger must not expect or
wait for such a submission, but must rather take to himself the saying
of Diogenes, who, when one said to him, They deride thee, O Diogenes,
made answer, But I am not derided; and he must not think himself
contemned, but rather himself contemn that man that offends him, as one
acting out of weakness or error, rashness or carelessness, rudeness or
dotage, or childishness. But, above all, we must bear with our servants
and friends herein; for surely they do not despise us as being impotent
or slothful, but they think less of us by reason of our very moderation
or good-will towards them, some because we are gentle, others because
we are loving towards them. But now, alas! out of a surmise that we
are contemned, we not only become exasperated against our wives, our
servants, and friends, but we oftentimes fall out also with drunken
innkeepers, and mariners and ostlers, and all out of a suspicion that
they despise us. Yea, we quarrel with dogs because they bark at us, and
asses if they chance to rush against us; like him who was going to beat
a driver of asses, but when the latter cried out, I am an Athenian,
fell to beating the ass, saying, Thou surely art not an Athenian too,
and so accosted him with many a bastinado.

13. And especially self-love and morosity, together with luxury and
effeminacy, breed in us long and frequent fits of anger, which by
little and little are gathered together into our souls, like a swarm of
bees or wasps. Wherefore there is nothing more conducing to a gentle
behavior towards our wife and servants and friends than contentedness
and simplicity, if we can be satisfied with what we have, and not stand
in need of many superfluities. Whereas the man described in the poet,—

    Who never is content with boiled or roast,
    Nor likes his meat, what way soever drest,—

who can never drink unless he have snow by him, or eat bread if it
be bought in the market, or taste victuals out of a mean or earthen
vessel, or sleep on a bed unless it be swelled and puffed up with
feathers, like to the sea when it is heaved up from the bottom; but
who with cudgels and blows, with running, calling, and sweating doth
hasten his servitors that wait at table, as if they were sent for
plasters for some inflamed ulcer, he being slave to a weak, morose, and
fault-finding style of life,—doth, as it were by a continual cough
or many buffetings, breed in himself, before he is aware, an ulcerous
and defluxive disposition unto anger. And therefore the body is to be
accustomed to contentment by frugality, and so be made sufficient for
itself. For they who need but few things are not disappointed of many;
and it is no hard matter, beginning with our food, to accept quietly
whatever is sent to us, and not by being angry and querulous at every
thing, to entertain ourselves and our friends with the most unpleasant
dish of all, which is anger. And surely

    Than that supper nought can more unpleasant be,[24]

where the servants are beaten and the wife railed at, because something
is burnt or smoked or not salt enough, or because the bread is too
cold. Arcesilaus was once entertaining his friends and some strangers
at a feast; the supper was set on the board, but there wanted bread,
the servants having, it seems, neglected to buy any. Now, on such an
occasion, which of us would not have rent the very walls with outcries?
But he smiling said only: What a fine thing it is for a philosopher to
be a jolly feaster! Once also when Socrates took Euthydemus from the
wrestling-house home with him to supper, his wife Xanthippe fell upon
him in a pelting chase, scolding him, and in conclusion overthrew the
table. Whereupon Euthydemus rose up and went his way, being very much
troubled at what had happened. But Socrates said to him: Did not a
hen at your house the other day come flying in, and do the like? and
yet I was not troubled at it. For friends are to be entertained by
good-nature, by smiles, and by a hospitable welcome; not by knitting
brows, or by striking horror and trembling into those that serve.

We must also accustom ourselves to the use of any cups indifferently,
and not to use one rather than another, as some are wont to single
some one cup out of many (as they say Marius used to do) or else a
drinking-horn, and to drink out of none but that; and they do the same
with oil-glasses and brushes, affecting one above all the rest, and
when any one of these chances to be broken or lost, then they take it
heinously, and punish severely those that did it. And therefore he
that is prone to be angry should refrain from such things as are rare
and curiously wrought, such as cups and seals and precious stones; for
such things distract a man by their loss more than cheap and ordinary
things are apt to do. Wherefore when Nero had made an octagonal tent,
a wonderful spectacle for cost and beauty, Seneca said to him: You
have proved yourself to be a poor man; for if you chance to lose
this, you cannot tell where to get such another. And indeed it so fell
out that the ship was sunk, and this tent was lost with it. But Nero,
remembering the words of Seneca, bore the loss of it with greater
moderation.

But this contentedness in other matters doth make a man good-tempered
and gentle towards his servants; and if towards servants, then
doubtless towards friends and subjects also. We see also that newly
bought servants enquire concerning him that bought them, not whether he
be superstitious or envious, but whether he be an angry man or not; and
that universally, neither men can endure their wives, though chaste,
nor women their husbands, though kind, if they be ill-tempered withal;
nor friends the conversation of one another. And so neither wedlock
nor friendship with anger is to be endured; but if anger be away, even
drunkenness itself is counted a light matter for the ferule of Bacchus
is a sufficient chastiser of a drunken man, if the addition of anger
do not change the God of wine from Lyaeus and Choraeus (the looser of
cares and the leader of dances) to the savage and furious deity. And
Anticyra (with its hellebore) is of itself able to cure simple madness;
but madness mixed with anger furnishes matter for tragedies and dismal
stories.

14. Neither ought any, even in their playing and jesting, to give way
to their anger, for it turns good-will into hatred; nor when they
are disputing, for it turns a desire of knowing truth into a love of
contention; nor when they sit in judgment, for it adds violence to
authority; nor when they are teaching, for it dulls the learner, and
breeds in him a hatred of all learning; nor if they be in prosperity,
for it increases envy; nor if in adversity, for it makes them to
be unpitied, if they are morose and apt to quarrel with those who
commiserate them, as Priam did:—

    Be gone, ye upbraiding scoundrels, haven’t ye at home
    Enough, that to help bear my grief ye come?[25]

On the other hand, good temper doth remedy some things, put an ornament
upon others, and sweeten others; and it wholly overcomes all anger and
moroseness, by gentleness. As may be seen in that excellent example of
Euclid, who, when his brother had said in a quarrel, Let me perish if I
be not avenged of you, replied, And let me perish if I do not persuade
you into a better mind; and by so saying he straightway diverted him
from his purpose, and changed his mind. And Polemon, being reviled by
one that loved precious stones well and was even sick with the love
of costly signets, answered nothing, but noticed one of the signets
which the man wore, and looked wistfully upon it. Whereat the man being
pleased said: Not so, Polemon, but look upon it in the sunshine, and
it will appear much better to you. And Aristippus, when there happened
to be a falling out between him and Aeschines, and one said to him, O
Aristippus, what is now become of the friendship that was between you
two? answered, It is asleep, but I will go and awaken it. Then coming
to Aeschines, he said to him, What? dost thou take me to be so utterly
wretched and incurable as not to be worth thy admonition? No wonder,
said Aeschines, if thou, by nature so excelling me in every thing,
didst here also discern before me what was right and fitting to be done.

    A woman’s, nay a little child’s soft hand,
    With gentle stroking easier doth command,
    And make the bristling boar to couch and fall,
    Than any boisterous wrestler of them all.

But we that can tame wild beasts and make them gentle, carrying young
wolves and the whelps of lions in our arms, do in a fit of anger
cast our own children, friends, and companions out of our embraces;
and we let loose our wrath like a wild beast upon our servants and
fellow-citizens. And we but poorly disguise our rage when we give it
the specious name of zeal against wickedness; and it is with this, I
suppose, as with other passions and diseases of the soul,—although we
call one forethought, another liberality, another piety, we cannot so
acquit and clear ourselves of any of them.

15. And as Zeno has said that the seed was a mixture drawn from all
the powers of the soul, in like manner anger seems to be a kind of
universal seed extracted from all the passions. For it is taken from
grief and pleasure and insolence; and then from envy it hath the evil
property of rejoicing at another’s adversity; and it is even worse than
murder itself, for it doth not strive to free itself from suffering,
but to bring mischief to itself, if it may thereby but do another man
an evil turn. And it hath the most odious kind of desire inbred in it,
if the appetite for grieving and hurting another may be called a desire.

Wherefore, when we go to the houses of drunkards, we may hear a wench
playing the flute betimes in the morning, and behold there, as one
said, the muddy dregs of wine, and scattered fragments of garlands,
and servants drunk at the door; and the marks of angry and surly
men may be read in the faces, brands, and fetters of the servants.
“But lamentation is the only bard that is always to be heard beneath
the roof” of the angry man, while his stewards are beaten and his
maid-servants tormented; so that the spectators, in the midst of their
mirth and delight, cannot but pity those sad effects of anger.

16. And even those who, out of a real hatred of wickedness, often
happen to be surprised with anger, can abate the excess and vehemence
of it so soon as they give up their excessive confidence in those with
whom they converse. For of all causes this doth most increase anger
when one proves to be wicked whom we took for a good man, or when one
who we thought had loved us falls into some difference and chiding with
us.

As for my own disposition, thou knowest very well with how strong
inclinations it is carried to show kindness to men and to confide
in them; and therefore, like those who miss their step and tread on
nothing, when I most of all trust to men’s love and, as it were, prop
myself up with it, I do then most of all miscarry, and, finding myself
disappointed, am troubled at it. And indeed I should never succeed
in freeing myself from this too great eagerness and forwardness in
my love; but against excessive confidence perhaps I can make use of
Plato’s caution for a bridle. For he said that he so commended Helicon,
the mathematician, because he thought him a naturally versatile animal;
but that he had a jealousy of those who had been well educated in
the city, lest, being men and the offspring of men, they should in
something or other discover the infirmity of their nature. But when
Sophocles says, If you search the deeds of mortals, you will find the
most are base, he seems to insult and disparage us over much. Still
even such a harsh and censorious judgment as this may make us more
moderate in our anger; for it is the sudden and the unexpected which do
most drive us to frenzy. But we ought, as Panaetius somewhere said, to
imitate Anaxagoras; and as he said upon the death of his son, I knew
before that I had begotten but a mortal, so should every one of us use
expressions like these of those offences which stir up to anger: I
knew, when I bought my servant, that I was not buying a philosopher; I
knew that I did not get a friend that had no passions; I knew that I
had a wife that was but a woman. But if every one would always repeat
the question of Plato to himself, But am not I perhaps such a one
myself? and turn his reason from abroad to look into himself, and put
restraint upon his reprehension of others, he would not make so much
use of his hatred of evil in reproving other men, seeing himself to
stand in need of great indulgence. But now every one of us, when he is
angry and punishing, can bring the words of Aristides and of Cato: Do
not steal, Do not lie, and Why are ye so slothful? And, what is most
truly shameful of all, we do in our anger reprove others for being
angry, and what was done amiss through anger we punish in our passion,
therein not acting like physicians, who

    Purge bitter choler with a bitter pill,[26]

but rather increasing and exasperating the disease which we pretend to
cure.

While therefore I am thus reasoning with myself, I endeavor also to
abate something of my curiosity; because for any one over curiously
to enquire and pry into every thing, and to make a public business of
every employment of a servant, every action of a friend, every pastime
of a son, every whispering of a wife, causes great and long and daily
fits of anger, whereof the product and issue is a peevish and morose
disposition. Wherefore God, as Euripides says,

    Affairs of greatest weight himself directeth,
    But matters small to Fortune he committeth.[27]

But I think a prudent man ought not to commit any thing at all to
Fortune, nor to neglect any thing, but to trust and commit some
things to his wife, some things to his servants, and some things to
his friends (as a prince to certain vicegerents and accountants and
administrators), while he himself is employing his reason about the
weightiest matters, and those of greatest concern.

For as small letters hurt the sight, so do small matters him that is
too much intent upon them; they vex and stir up anger, which begets
an evil habit in him in reference to greater affairs. But above all
the rest, I look on that of Empedocles as a divine thing, “To fast
from evil.” And I commended also those vows and professions made in
prayers, as things neither indecent in themselves nor unbecoming a
philosopher,—for a whole year to abstain from venery and wine, serving
God with temperance all the while; or else again, for a certain time
to abstain from lying, minding and watching over ourselves, that we
speak nothing but what is true, either in earnest or in jest. After
the manner of these vows then I made my own, supposing it would be
no less acceptable to God and sacred than theirs; and I set myself
first to observe a few sacred days also, wherein I would abstain from
being angry, as if it were from being drunk or from drinking wine,
celebrating a kind of Nephalia and Melisponda[28] with respect to my
anger. Then, making trial of myself little by little for a month or
two, I by this means in time made some good progress unto further
patience in bearing evils, diligently observing and keeping myself
courteous in language and behavior, free from anger, and pure from all
wicked words and absurd actions, and from passion, which for a little
(and that no grateful) pleasure brings with itself great perturbations
and shameful repentance. Whence experience, not without some divine
assistance, hath, I suppose, made it evident that that was a very
true judgment and assertion, that this courteous, gentle, and kindly
disposition and behavior is not so acceptable, so pleasing, and so
delightful to any of those with whom we converse, as it is to those
that have it.




OF BASHFULNESS.


1. Some plants there are, in their own nature wild and barren, and
hurtful to seed and garden-sets, which yet among able husbandmen pass
for infallible signs of a rich and promising soil. In like manner, some
passions of the mind not good in themselves yet serve as first shoots
and promises of a disposition which is naturally good, and also capable
of much improvement by cultivation. Among these I rank bashfulness, the
subject of our present discourse; no ill sign indeed, but the cause
and occasion of a great deal of harm. For the bashful oftentimes run
into the same enormities as the most hardened and impudent, with this
difference only, that the former feel a regret for such miscarriages,
but the latter take a pleasure and satisfaction therein. The shameless
person is without sense of grief for his baseness, and the bashful
is in distress at the very appearance of it. For bashfulness is only
modesty in the excess, and is aptly enough named δυσωπία (_the being
put out of countenance_), since the face is in some sense confused and
dejected with the mind. For as that grief which casts down the eyes is
termed dejection, so that kind of modesty which cannot look another in
the face is called bashfulness. The orator, speaking of a shameless
fellow, said he carried harlots, not virgins, in his eyes;[29] on the
other hand, the sheepishly bashful betrays no less the effeminacy
and softness of his mind in his looks, palliating his weakness, which
exposes him to the mercy of impudence, with the specious name of
modesty. Cato indeed was wont to say of young persons, he had a greater
opinion of such as were subject to color than of those that looked
pale; teaching us thereby to look with greater apprehension on the
heinousness of an action than on the reprimand which might follow, and
to be more afraid of the suspicion of doing an ill thing than of the
danger of it. However, too much anxiety and timidity lest we may do
wrong is also to be avoided; because many men have become cowards and
been deterred from generous undertakings, no less for fear of calumny
and detraction than by the danger or difficulty of such attempts.

2. While therefore we must not suffer the weakness in the one case
to pass unnoticed, neither must we abet or countenance invincible
impudence in the other, such as is reported of Anaxarchus,—

    Whose dog-like carriage and effrontery,
    Despising infamy, out-faced disgrace.

A convenient mien between both is rather to be endeavored after, by
repressing the over impudent, and animating the too meek temper. But as
this kind of cure is difficult, so is the restraining such excesses not
without danger; for as a gardener, in stubbing up some wild or useless
bushes, makes at them carelessly with his spade, or burns them off the
ground, but in dressing a vine, or grafting an apple, or pruning an
olive, carries his hand with the greatest wariness and deliberation,
that he may not unluckily injure the tree; so a philosopher, in
removing envy, that useless and untractable plant or covetousness
or immoderate love of pleasure from the mind of youth, may cut deep
safely, and make a large scar; but if he be to apply his discourse to
some more sensible or delicate part, such as the restraining excess
of bashfulness, it lies upon him to be very careful not to cut off
or eradicate modesty with the contrary vice. For nurses who too often
wipe away the dirt from their infants are apt to tear their flesh and
put them to pain. And in like manner we must not so far extirpate all
bashfulness in youth as to leave them careless or impudent; but as
those that pull down private houses adjoining to the temples of the
Gods prop up such parts as are contiguous to them, so in undermining
bashfulness, due regard is to be had to adjacent modesty, good nature,
and humanity. And yet these are the very qualities by which bashfulness
insinuates itself and becomes fixed in a man, flattering him that
he is good-natured, courteous, and civil, and has common sense, and
that he is not obstinate and inexorable. The Stoics, therefore, in
their discourses of modesty, distinguish all along betwixt that and
bashfulness, leaving not so much as ambiguity of terms for a pretence
to the vice. However, asking their good leave, we shall make bold to
use such words indifferently in either sense; or rather we shall follow
the example of Homer, whose authority we have for it, that

    Much harm oft-times from modesty befalls,
    Much good oft-times.[30]

And it was not done amiss of him to make mention of the hurtfulness of
it first, because modesty becomes profitable only through reason, which
cuts off what is superfluous and leaves a just mean behind.

3. In the first place, therefore, the bashful man must be persuaded
and satisfied that that distemper of the mind is prejudicial to him,
and that nothing which is so can be eligible. And withal, he must be
cautious how he suffers himself to be cajoled and led by the nose with
the titles of courteous or sociable, in exchange for those of grave,
great, and just; nor like Pegasus in Euripides, who, when Bellerophon
mounted him,

    With trembling stooped more than his lord desired,[31]

must he debase himself and yield to all who make their addresses to
him, for fear of appearing hard and ungentle.

It is recorded of Bocchoris, king of Egypt, a man of a very cruel
nature, that the goddess Isis sent a kind of a serpent (called aspis),
which winding itself about his head cast a shadow over him from above,
and was a means to him of determining causes according to equity. But
bashfulness, on the contrary, happening upon remiss and spirit less
tempers, suffers them not to express their dislike of any thing or to
argue against it, but perverts many times the sentence of arbitrators,
and stops the mouths of skilful pleaders, forcing them often to act
and speak contrary to their conviction. And the most reckless man will
always tyrannize and domineer over such a one, forcing his bashfulness
by his own strength of impudence. Upon this account it is that
bashfulness, like a low piece of soft ground, can make no resistance
and decline no encounter but is exposed to the meanest actions and
vilest passions. But, above all, this is the worst guardian of raw and
inexperienced youth. For, as Brutus said, he seems to have had but an
ill education that has not learned to deny any thing. And no better
overseer is it of the marriage-bed or the woman’s apartment; as the
repentant lady in Sophocles accuses the spark that had debauched her,—

    Thy tongue, thy flattering tongue prevailed.[32]

So this vice, happening upon a disposition inclinable to debauchery,
prepares and opens the way, and leaves all things easy and accessible
to such as are ready to prefer their wicked designs. Presents and
treats are irresistible baits for common mercenary creatures; but
importunity, befriended with bashfulness on their side, has sometimes
undone the modestest women. I omit what inconveniences this kind of
modesty occasions, when it obliges men to lend their money to such
whose credit is blown upon in the world, or to give bail for those they
dare not trust; we do this, it is true, with an ill-will, and in our
heart reflect upon that old saying, Be bail, and pay for it, yet cannot
make use of it in our practice.

4. How many this fault has ruined, it is no easy thing to recount.
Creon in the play gave a very good lesson for others to follow, when he
told Medea,—

    ’Tis better now to brave thy direst hate,
    Than curse a foolish easiness too late.[33]

Yet afterwards, being wrought upon through his bashfulness to grant
her but one day longer, he ruined himself and family by it. For the
same reason, some, suspecting designs against them of murder or
poisoning, have neglected to provide for their safety. Thus Dion could
not be ignorant of the treachery of Callippus, yet thought it unfit
to entertain such thoughts of his pretended friend and guest, and so
perished. So again, Antipater, the son of Cassander, having entertained
Demetrius at supper, and being engaged by him for the next night,
because he was unwilling to distrust one who had trusted him, went, and
had his throat cut after supper. Polysperchon had promised Cassander
for an hundred talents to murder Hercules, the son of Alexander by
Barsine. Upon this he invites him to sup; but the young man, having
some suspicion of the thing, pretends himself indisposed. Polysperchon
coming to him said: Sir, above all things endeavor after your father’s
courteous behavior and obliging way to his friends, unless haply you
look on us with suspicion as if we were compassing your health. The
young man out of mere modesty was prevailed upon to go, and was
strangled as he sat at meat. It is not therefore (as some will have us
believe) insignificant or ridiculous, but on the contrary very wise
advice, which Hesiod gives,—

    Welcome a friend, but never call thy foe.[34]

Be not bashful and mealy-mouthed in refusing him that you are satisfied
has a pique against you; but never reject him that seemeth to put his
trust in you. For if you invite, you must expect to be invited again;
and some time or other your entertainment will be repaid you, if
bashfulness have once softened or turned the edge of that diffidence
which ought to be your guard.

5. To the end therefore that we may get the better of this disease,
which is the cause of so many evils, we must make our first attempts
(as our custom is in other things) upon matters of no great difficulty.
As, if one drink to you after you have taken what is sufficient, be
not so foolishly modest to do violence to your nature, but rather
venture to pass the glass. Another, it may be, would tempt you to play
at dice while drinking; be not over-persuaded into a compliance, for
fear of being the subject of his drollery, but reply with Xenophanes,
when Lasus of Hermione called him coward because he refused to play
at dice: Yes, said he, I confess myself the greatest coward in the
world, for I dare not do an ill thing. Again, you light upon an
impertinent talker, that sticks upon you like a burr; don’t be bashful,
but break off the discourse, and pursue your business. These evasions
and repulses, whereby our resolution and assurance are exercised in
matters of less moment, will accustom us to it by degrees in greater
occasions. And here it will be but seasonable to give you a passage,
as it is recorded of Demosthenes. The Athenians having one time been
moved to send succors to Harpalus, and themselves to engage in a war
against Alexander, it happened that Philoxenus, Alexander’s admiral,
unexpectedly arrived on their coast; and the people being so astonished
as to be speechless for very fear, Demosthenes cried out: How would
they endure the sun, who are not able to look against a lamp! Or how
would you comport yourself in weightier concerns, while your prince or
the people had an awe over you, if you cannot refuse a glass of wine
when an acquaintance offers it, or turn off an impertinent babbler,
but suffer the eternal trifler to walk over you without telling him,
Another time, good sir, at present I am in haste.

6. Besides all this, the exercising such a resolution is of great use
in praising others. If one of my friend’s harpers play lewdly, or a
comedian he has hired at a great rate murder a piece of Menander in the
acting, although the vulgar clap their hands and admire, I think it
no moroseness or ill-breeding to sit silently all the while, without
servilely joining in the common applauses contrary to my judgment.
For if you scruple to deal openly with him in these cases, what will
you do, should he repeat to you an insipid composition of his own,
or submit to your revisal a ridiculous oration? You will applaud,
of course, and enter yourself into the list of common parasites and
flatterers! But how then can you direct him impartially in the greatest
administrations of his life? how be free with him where he fails in any
duties of his trust or marriage, or neglects the offices incumbent on
him as a member of the community? I must confess, I cannot by any means
approve of the reply Pericles made to a friend who besought him to give
false evidence, and that too upon oath, when he thus answered: As far
as the altar I am wholly at your service. Methinks he went too far. But
he that has long before accustomed himself not to commend any thing
against his judgment, or applaud an ill voice, or seem pleased with
indecent scurrilities, will never suffer things to come to that issue;
nor will any one be so bold as to solicit him in this manner: Swear on
my side, give false evidence, or bring in an unjust verdict.

7. After the same manner we may learn to refuse such as come to borrow
considerable sums of us, if we have used to deny in little matters
where refusal is easy. As Archelaus, king of Macedon, sat at supper,
one of his retinue, a fellow who thought there was nothing so honest
as to receive, begged of him a golden cup. But the king commanded a
waiter to give it immediately to Euripides: For you, sir, said he, are
fit indeed to ask any thing, but to receive nothing; and he deserves to
receive, though he lacks the confidence to ask. Thus wisely did he make
his judgment, and not bashful timidity, his guide in bestowing favors.
Yet we oftentimes, when the honesty, nearness, and necessities of our
friends and relations are not motives sufficient to prevail with us to
their relief, can give profusely to impudence and importunity, not out
of any willingness to bestow our money so ill, but merely for want of
confidence and resolution to deny. This was the case of Antigonus the
elder. Being wearied out with the importunity of Bias, Give, said he
to his servants, one talent to Bias and necessity. Yet at other times
he was as expert at encountering such addresses as any prince, and
dismissed them with as remarkable answers. Thus a certain Cynic one
day begging of him a groat, he made answer, That is not for a prince
to give. And the poor man replying, Then bestow a talent, he reparteed
briskly, Nor that for a Cynic (or, for a dog) to receive. Diogenes
went about begging to all the statues in the Ceramicus; and his answer
to some that wondered at his fancy in it was, he was practising how
to bear a repulse. But indeed it chiefly lies upon us to exercise
ourselves in smaller matters to refuse an unreasonable request, that
we may not be at loss how to refuse on occasions of greater magnitude.
For no one, as Demosthenes says, who has spent all the money that he
had in unnecessary expenses, will have plenty of money that he has
not for his necessary expenses.[35] And our disgrace is increased many
fold, if we want what is necessary or decent, and abound in trifles and
fopperies.

8. Yet bashfulness is not only a bad steward of our estate, but even
in weightier concerns it refuses to hearken to the wholesome advice
of right reason. Thus, in a dangerous fit of sickness, we send not to
the ablest physician, for fear of giving offence to another of our
acquaintance. Or, in taking tutors and governors for our children, we
make choice of such as obtrude themselves upon us, not such as are
better qualified for that service. Or, in our lawsuits, we regard not
to obtain counsel learned in the law, because we must gratify the
son of some friend or relation, and give him an opportunity to show
himself in the world. Nay, lastly, you shall find some that bear the
name of philosophers, who call themselves Epicureans or Stoics, not out
of choice, or upon the least conviction, but merely to oblige their
friends or acquaintance, who have taken advantage of their modesty.
Since then the case is so with us, we ought to prepare and exercise
ourselves in things that we daily meet with and of course, not so much
as indulging that foolish weakness in the choice of a barber or fuller,
or in lodging in a paltry inn when better accommodation is to be had,
to oblige the landlord who has cringed to us. But if it be merely
to break ourselves of such follies, in those cases still we should
make use of the best, though the difference be but inconsiderable; as
the Pythagoreans were strict in observing not to cross their right
knee with the left, or to use an even number with an odd, though all
things else were indifferent. We must observe also, when we celebrate
a sacrifice or keep a wedding or make a public entertainment, to
deny ourselves so far as not to invite any that have been extremely
complacent to us or that put themselves upon us, before those who
are known for their good-humor or whose conversation is like to prove
beneficial. For he that has accustomed himself thus far will hardly be
caught and surprised, nay, rather he shall not so much as be tempted,
in greater instances.

9. And thus much may suffice concerning exercising ourselves. My
first use of what has been said is to observe, that all passions and
distempers of the mind are still accompanied with those very evils
which by their means we hoped to avoid. Thus disgrace pursues ambition;
pain and indisposition, sensuality; softness and effeminacy are fretted
with troubles; contentiousness with disappointment and defeats.
But this is nowhere more conspicuous than in bashfulness, which,
endeavoring to avoid the smoke of reproach, throws itself into the
fire. Such men, wanting confidence to withstand those that unreasonably
importune them, afterwards feel shame before those who justly accuse
them, and for fear of a slight private rebuke incur more public
disgrace. For example, not having the heart to deny a friend that
comes to borrow, in short time they are reduced to the same extremity
themselves, and exposed openly. Some again, after promising to help
friends in a lawsuit, are ashamed to face the opposite party, and are
forced to hide their heads and run away. Many have been so unreasonably
weak in this particular as to accept of disadvantageous proposals of
marriage for a daughter or sister, and upon second thoughts have been
forced to bring themselves off with an arrant lie.

10. One made this observation of the people of Asia, that they were
all slaves to one man, merely because they could not pronounce that
syllable No; but he spake only in raillery. But now the bashful man,
though he be not able to say one word, has but to raise his brows or
nod downward, as if he minded not, and he may decline many ungrateful
and unreasonable offices. Euripides was wont to say, Silence is an
answer to a wise man;[36] but we seem to have greater occasion for
it in our dealings with fools and unreasonable persons, for men of
breeding and sense will be satisfied with reason and fair words. Upon
this account we should be always provided with some notable sayings
and choice apothegms of famous and excellent men, to repeat to the
bashful,—such as that of Phocion to Antipater, You cannot have me for
both a friend and a flatterer; and that of his to the Athenians, when
they called upon him to come in for his share to defray the expenses of
a festival; I am ashamed, said he, pointing to Callicles his creditor,
to contribute towards your follies, without paying this man his due.
For, as Thucydides says, It is an ill thing to be ashamed of one’s
poverty, but much worse not to make use of lawful endeavors to avoid
it.[37] But he that is so foolishly good-natured that he cannot answer
one that comes to borrow,—

    My friend, no silver white have I in all my caves,—

but gives him a promise to be better provided,—

    The wretch has made himself a slave to shame,
    And drags a tiresome, though an unforged chain.[38]

Persaeus, being about to accommodate a friend with a sum of money, paid
it publicly in the market, and made the conditions before a banker,
remembering, it may be, that of Hesiod,—

    Seem not thy brother’s honesty to doubt;
    Yet, smiling, call a witness to his hand.[39]

But when his friend marvelled and asked, How now, so formally and
according to law? Yea, quoth he, because I would receive my money again
as a friend, and not have to trouble the law to recover it. For many
out of bashfulness, not taking care to have good security at first,
have been forced afterwards to break with their friends, and to have
recourse to law for their money.

11. Again, Plato writing to Dionysius, by Helicon of Cyzicus, gives
the bearer a good character for honesty and moderation, but withal in
the postscript tells him, Yet this I write of a man, who, as such, is
by nature an animal subject to change. Xenocrates, though a man of
rigid morals, was prevailed upon by this kind of modesty to recommend
to Polysperchon a person, as it proved in the end, not so honest as
he was reputed. For when the Macedonian in compliment bade him call
for whatever he wanted, he presently desired a talent of silver.
Polysperchon ordered it accordingly to be paid him, but despatched
away letters immediately to Xenocrates, advising him for the future
to be better acquainted with those he recommended. Now all this came
to pass through Xenocrates’s ignorance of his man; but we oftentimes
give testimonials and squander away our money to advance such as we
are very well satisfied have no qualification or desert to recommend
them, and this too with the forfeiture of our reputation, and without
the pleasure that men have who are profuse upon whores and flatterers,
but all the while in an agony, and struggling with that impudence which
does violence to our reason. Whereas, if at any time, that verse can
here be properly used,—

    I know the dreadful consequence, and fear,[40]

when such persons are at a man to forswear himself, or to give a wrong
sentence, or to vote for an unjust bill, or lastly to be bound for one
that will never be able to pay the debt.

12. All passions of the mind have repentance still pursuing them
closely, but it overtakes this of bashfulness in the very act. For
we give with regret, and we are in confusion while we bear false
witness; our reputation is questioned when we engage for others, and
when we fail we are condemned by all men. From this imperfection also
it proceeds, that many things are imposed upon us not in our power to
perform, as to recommend such a man to court, or to carry up an address
to the governor, because we dare not, or at least we will not, confess
that we are unknown to the prince or that another has more of his ear.
Lysander, on the other hand, when he was in disgrace at court, but yet
for his great services was thought to preserve something of his former
esteem with Agesilaus, made no scruple to dismiss suitors, directing
them to such as were more powerful with the king. For it is no disgrace
not to be able to do every thing; but to undertake or pretend to what
you are not made for is not only shameful, but extremely troublesome
and vexatious.

13. But to proceed to another head, we must perform all reasonable and
good offices to those that deserve them, not forced thereto by fear of
shame, but cheerfully and readily. But where any thing prejudicial or
unhandsome is required of us, we ought to remember the story that is
related of Zeno. Meeting a young man of his acquaintance that slunk
away under a wall, as if he would not be seen, and having learned from
him that he withdrew from a friend that importuned him to perjure
himself, What, replied he, you novice! is that fellow not afraid
or ashamed to require of thee what is unreasonable and unjust, and
darest thou not stand against him in that which is just and honest?
For he that first started that doctrine, that knavery is the best
defence against a knave, was but an ill teacher, advising us to keep
off wickedness by imitating it. But for such as presume upon our
modesty, to keep them off with their own weapons, and not gratify their
unreasonable impudence with an easy compliance, is but just and good,
and the duty of every wise man.

14. Neither is it a hard matter to put off some mean and ordinary
people, which will be apt to prove troublesome to you in that nature.
Some shift them off with a jest or a smart repartee; as Theocritus,
being asked in the bath to lend his flesh-brush by two persons, whereof
one was a stranger to him, and the other a notorious thief, made
answer: You, sir, I know not well enough, and you I know too well.
And Lysimache, the priestess of Minerva Polias in Athens, when the
muleteers that brought the provision for the festival desired her to
let them drink, replied, No; for I fear it may grow into a custom.
So again, when a captain’s son, a young fluttering bully but a great
coward, petitioned Antigonus for promotion, the latter answered Sir, it
is my way to reward my soldiers for their valor, not their parentage.

15. But if he that is importunate with us prove a man of great honor
or interest (and such persons are not easily answered with excuses,
when they come for our vote in the senate or judicial cases), at such a
time perhaps it will be neither easy nor necessary to behave ourselves
to them as Cato did towards Catulus. Catulus, a person of the highest
rank among the Romans, and at that time censor, once waited on Cato,
who was then quaestor and still a young man, on behalf of a friend whom
Cato had fined; and when he had used a great deal of importunity to no
purpose, yet would not be denied, Cato grew out of patience, and told
him, It would be an unseemly sight to have the censor dragged hence by
my officers. Catulus at this went away, out of countenance and very
angry. But consider whether the answers of Agesilaus and Themistocles
have not in them much more of candor and equity. Agesilaus, being
bidden by his own father to give sentence contrary to law, replied: I
have been always taught by you to be observant of the laws, and I shall
endeavor to obey you at this time, by doing nothing contrary to them.
And Themistocles, when Simonides tempted him to commit a piece of
injustice, said: You would be no good poet, should you break the laws
of verse; and should I judge against the law, I should make no better
magistrate.

16. For it is not because of blunders in metre in lyric songs, as Plato
observes, that cities and friends are set at variance to their utter
ruin and destruction, but because of their blunders with regard to law
and justice. Yet there are a sort of men that can be very curious and
critical in their verses and letters and lyric measures, and yet would
persuade others to neglect that justice and honesty which all men ought
to observe in offices, in passing judgments, and in all actions. But
these men are to be dealt with after the following manner. An orator
perhaps presses you to show him favor in a cause to be heard before
you, or a demagogue importunes you when you are a senator: tell him you
are ready to please him, on condition that he make a solecism in the
beginning of his oration, or be guilty of some barbarous expression
in his narration. These terms, for shame, he will not accept; for
some we see so superstitiously accurate as not to allow of two vowels
meeting one another. Again, you are moved by a person of quality to
something of ill reputation: bid him come over the market-place at full
noon dancing, or making buffoon-like grimaces; if he refuse, question
him once more, whether he think it a more heinous offence to make a
solecism or a grimace, than to break a law or to perjure one’s self,
or to show more favor to a rascal than to an honest man. Nicostratus
the Argive, when Archidamus promised him a vast sum of money and his
choice of the Spartan ladies in marriage, if he would deliver up the
town Cromnum into his hands, returned him this answer: He could no
longer believe him descended from Hercules, he said, because Hercules
traversed the world to destroy wicked men, but Archidamus made it his
business to debauch those that were good. In like manner, if one
that stands upon his quality or reputation presses us to do any thing
dishonorable, we must tell him freely, he acts not as becomes a person
of his character in the world.

17. But if it be a man of no quality that shall importune you, you may
enquire of the covetous man, whether he would lend you a considerable
sum without any other security than your word; desire the proud man to
give you the higher seat; or the ambitious, to quit his pretensions
to some honor that lies fair for him. For, to deal plainly, it is a
shameful thing that these men should continue so stiff, so resolute,
and so unmoved in their vicious habits, while we, who profess ourselves
lovers of justice and honesty, have too little command of ourselves not
to give up and betray basely the cause of virtue. If they that would
practise upon our modesty do this out of desire of glory or power,
why should we contract disgrace or infamy to ourselves, to advance
the authority or set off the reputation of others?—like those who
bestow the reward wrongfully in public games, or betray their trust in
collecting the poll, who confer indeed garlands and honors upon other
men, but at the same time forfeit their own reputation and good word.
But suppose it be matter of interest only that puts them upon it; why
should it not appear an unreasonable piece of service for us to forego
our reputation and conscience to no other purpose than to satisfy
another man’s avarice or make his coffers the heavier? After all, these
I am afraid are the grand motives with most men in such cases, and they
are even conscious that they are guilty; as men that are challenged and
compelled to take too large a glass raise an hundred scruples and make
as many grimaces before they drink.

18. This weakness of the mind may be compared to a constitution of body
that can endure neither heat nor cold. For let them be praised by those
that thus impudently set upon them, and they are at once mollified and
broken by the flattery; but let them be blamed or so much as suspected
by the same men after their suit has been refused, and they are ready
to die for woe and fear. We ought therefore to prepare and fortify
ourselves against both extremes, so as to be made a prey neither to
such as pretend to frighten, nor to such as would cajole us. Thucydides
is of opinion, since there is a necessary connection between envy and
great undertakings, that he takes the wisest counsel who incurs envy
by aiming the highest.[41] But we who esteem it less difficult to
avoid the envy of all men than to escape the censure of those we live
among, ought to order things so as rather to grapple with the unjust
hatred of evil men, than to deserve their just accusation after we have
served their base ends. We ought to go armed against that false and
counterfeit praise such men are apt to fling upon us, not suffering
ourselves like swine to be scratched and tickled by them, till, having
got the advantage of us, they use us after their own pleasure. For they
that reach out their ears to flatterers differ very little from such as
stand fair and quiet to be tripped up, excepting that the former catch
the more disgraceful fall. These put up with the affronts and forbear
the correction of wicked men, to get the reputation of good-natured or
merciful; or else are drawn into needless and perilous quarrels at the
instance of flatterers, who bear them in hand all the while for the
only men of judgment, the only men not to be caught with flattery, and
call them the only men who have mouths and voices. Bion used to compare
these men to pitchers: Take them, said he, by the ears, and you may
move them as you please. Thus Alexinus, the sophist, was reporting many
scandalous things in the lyceum of Stilpo the Megarian; but when one
present informed him that Stilpo always spake very honorably of him,
Why truly, says he, he is one of the most obliging and best of men.
But now Menedemus, when it was told him that Alexinus often praised
him, replied: That may be, but I always talk against him; for he must
be bad who either praises a bad man or is blamed by an honest one. So
wary was he of being caught by such baits, agreeably to that precept of
Hercules in Antisthenes,[42] who cautioned his sons not to be thankful
to such as were used to praise them,—thereby meaning no more than that
they should be so far from being wheedled thereby as not even to return
their flatteries. That of Pindar was very apposite, and enough to be
said in such a case: when one told him, I cry you up among all men, and
speak to your advantage on all occasions; and I, replied he, am always
very thankful, in that I take care you shall not tell a lie.

19. I shall conclude with one general rule, of sovereign use against
all the passions and diseases of the mind, but particularly beneficial
to such as labor under the present distemper, bashfulness. And it is
this: whenever they have given way to this weakness, let them store
up carefully such failings in their memory, and taking therein deep
and lively impressions of what remorse and disquiet they occasioned,
bestow much time in reflecting upon them and keeping them fresh. For
as travellers that have got a dangerous fall against such a stone,
or sailors shipwrecked upon a particular promontory, keeping the
image of their misfortune continually before them, appear fearful
and apprehensive not only of the same but even the like dangers; so
they that keep in mind the disgraceful and prejudicial effects of
bashfulness will soon be enabled to restrain themselves in like cases,
and will not easily slip again on any occasion.




THAT VIRTUE MAY BE TAUGHT.


1. Men deliberate and dispute variously concerning virtue, whether
prudence and justice and the right ordering of one’s life can be
taught. Moreover, we marvel that the works of orators, shipmasters,
musicians, carpenters, and husbandmen are infinite in number, while
good men are only a name, and are talked of like centaurs, giants, and
the Cyclops, and that as for any virtuous action that is sincere and
unblamable, and manners that are without any touch and mixture of bad
passions and affections, they are not to be found; but if Nature of its
own accord should produce any thing good and excellent, so many things
of a foreign nature mix with it (just as wild and impure productions
with generous fruit) that the good is scarce discernible. Men learn
to sing, dance, and read, and to be skilful in husbandry and good
horsemanship; they learn how to put on their shoes and their garments;
they have those that teach them how to fill wine, and to dress and cook
their meat; and none of these things can be done as they ought, unless
they be instructed how to do them. And will ye say, O foolish men! that
the skill of ordering one’s life well (for the sake of which are all
the rest) is not to be taught, but to come of its own accord, without
reason and without art?

2. Why do we, by asserting that virtue is not to be taught, make it
a thing that does not at all exist? For if by its being learned it
is produced, he that hinders its being learned destroys it. And now,
as Plato[43] says, we never heard that because of a blunder in metre
in a lyric song, therefore one brother made war against another, nor
that it put friends at variance, nor that cities hereupon were at such
enmity that they did to one another and suffered one from another the
extremest injuries. Nor can any one tell us of a sedition raised in a
city about the right accenting or pronouncing of a word,—as whether
we are to say Τελχῖνας or Τέλχινας,—nor that a difference arose in
a family betwixt man and wife about the woof and the warp in cloth.
Yet none will go about to weave in a loom or to handle a book or a
harp, unless he has first been taught, though no great harm would
follow if he did, but only the fear of making himself ridiculous (for,
as Heraclitus says, it is a piece of discretion to conceal one’s
ignorance); and yet a man without instruction presumes himself able to
order a family, a wife, or a commonwealth, and to govern very well.
Diogenes, seeing a youth devouring his victuals too greedily, gave his
tutor a box on the ear, and that deservedly, as judging it the fault
of him that had not taught, not of him that had not learned better
manners. And what? is it necessary to begin to learn from a boy how to
eat and drink handsomely in company, as Aristophanes expresses it,—

    Not to devour their meat in haste, nor giggle,
    Nor awkwardly their feet across to wriggle,[44]

and yet are men fit to enter into the fellowship of a family, city,
married estate, private conversation, or public office, and to manage
it without blame, without any previous instruction concerning good
behavior in conversation?

When one asked Aristippus this question, What, are you everywhere?
he laughed and said, I throw away the fare of the waterman, if I am
everywhere. And why canst not thou also answer, that the salary given
to tutors is thrown away and lost, if none are the better for their
discipline and instruction. But, as nurses shape and form the body
of a child with their hands, so these masters, when the nurses have
done with them, first receive them into their charge, in order to the
forming of their manners and directing their steps into the first
tracks of virtue. To which purpose the Lacedaemonian, that was asked
what good he did to the child of whom he had the charge, answered well:
I make good and honest things pleasant to children. These masters also
teach them to bend down their heads as they go along, to touch salt
fish with one finger only, but fresh fish, bread, and flesh with two;
thus to scratch themselves, and thus to tuck up their garments.

3. Now he that says that the art of physic may be proper for a tetter
or a whitlow, but not to be made use of for a pleurisy, a fever, or
a frenzy, in what does he differ from him that should say that it
is fit there should be schools, and discourses, and precepts, to
teach trifling and childish things, but that all skill in greater
and more manly things comes from use without art and from accidental
opportunity? For as he would be ridiculous who should say, that one
who never learned to row ought not to lay hand on the oar, but that
he might guide the helm who was never taught it; so is he that gives
leave for men to be instructed in other arts, but not in virtue.
He seems to be quite contrary to the practice of the Scythians,
who, as Herodotus[45] tells us, put out their servants’ eyes, to
prevent them from running away; but he puts the eye of reason into
these base and slavish arts, and plucks it from virtue. But the
general Iphicrates—when Callias, the son of Chabrias, asked him,
What art thou? Art thou an archer or a targeteer, a trooper or a
foot-soldier?—answered well, I am none of all these, but one that
commands them all. He therefore would be ridiculous that should say
that the skill of drawing a bow, of handling arms, of throwing with
a sling, and of good horsemanship, might indeed be taught, but the
skill of commanding and leading an army came as it happened, one knew
not how. And would not he be still more ridiculous who should say that
prudence only could not be taught, without which all those arts are
useless and unprofitable? When she is the governess, ranking all things
in due place and order, every thing is assigned to become useful; for
instance, how ungraceful would a feast be, though all concerned were
skilful and enough practised in cookery, in dressing and serving up the
meat, and in filling the wine as they ought, if all things were not
well disposed and ordered among those that waited at the table?...




THE ACCOUNT OF THE LAWS AND CUSTOMS OF THE LACEDAEMONIANS.[46]


1. It was a singular instance of the wisdom of this nation, in that
they took the greatest care they could, by an early sober education,
to instil into their youth the principles of virtue and good manners,
that so, by a constant succession of prudent and valiant men, they
might the better provide for the honor and security of their state, and
lay in the minds of every one a solid and good foundation of love and
friendship, of prudence and knowledge, of temperance and frugality,
of courage and resolution. And therefore their great lawgiver thought
it necessary for the ends of government to institute several distinct
societies and conventions of the people; amongst which was that of
their solemn and public living together at one table, where their
custom was to admit their youth into the conversation of their wise
and elderly men, that so by daily eating and drinking with them they
might insensibly, as it were, be trained up to a right knowledge
of themselves, to a just submission to their superiors, and to the
learning of whatever might conduce to the reputation of their laws
and the interest of their country. For here they were taught all the
wholesome rules of discipline, and daily instructed how to demean
themselves from the example and practice of their great ones; and
though they did not at this public meeting confine themselves to set
and grave discourses concerning the civil government, but allowed
themselves a larger freedom, by mingling sometimes with their politics
the easy and familiar entertainments of mirth and satire, yet this was
ever done with the greatest modesty and discretion, not so much to
expose the person of any one, as to reprove the fault he had committed.
Whatever was transacted at these stated and common feasts was to be
locked up in every one’s breast with the greatest silence and secrecy,
insomuch as the eldest among them at these assemblies, pointing to the
door, acquainted him who entered the room that nothing of what was done
or spoken there was to be talked of afterwards.

2. At all these public meetings they used a great deal of moderation,
they being designed only for schools of temperance and modesty, not
for luxury and indecency; their chief dish and only delicacy being a
sort of pottage (called by them their black broth, and made of some
little pieces of flesh, with a small quantity of blood, salt, and
vinegar), and this the more ancient among them generally preferred
to any sort of meat whatsoever, as the more pleasing entertainment
and of a more substantial nourishment. The younger sort contented
themselves with flesh and other ordinary provisions, without tasting of
this dish, which was reserved only for the old men. It is reported of
Dionysius, the Sicilian tyrant, that having heard of the great fame and
commendation of this broth, he hired a certain cook of Lacedaemon, who
was thoroughly skilled in the make and composition of it, to furnish
his table every day with so great and curious a dainty; and that he
might have it in the greatest perfection, enjoined him to spare no cost
in the making it agreeable and pleasant to his palate. But it seems
the end answered not the pains he took in it; for after all his care
and niceness, the king, as soon as he had tasted of it, found it both
fulsome and nauseous to his stomach, and spitting it out with great
distaste, as if he had taken down a vomit, sufficiently expressed his
disapprobation of it. But the cook, not discouraged at this dislike of
his master, told the tyrant that he humbly conceived the reason of this
disagreeableness to him was not in the pottage, but rather in himself,
who had not prepared his body for such food according to the Laconic
mode and custom. For hard labors and long exercises and moderate
abstinence (the best preparatives to a good and healthy appetite) and
frequent bathings in the river Eurotas were the only necessaries for a
right relish and understanding of the excellency of this entertainment.

3. ’Tis true, their constant diet was very mean and sparing; not what
might pamper their bodies or make their minds soft and delicate, but
such only as would barely serve to supply the common necessities of
nature. This they accustomed themselves to, that so they might become
sober and governable, active and bold in the defence of their country;
they accounting only such men serviceable to the state, who could best
endure the extremes of hunger and cold, and with cheerfulness and vigor
run through the fatigues of labor and the difficulties of hardship.
Those who could fast longest after a slender meal, and with the least
provision satisfy their appetites, were esteemed the most frugal and
temperate, and most sprightly and healthful, the most comely and well
proportioned; nature, through such a temperance and moderation of
diet, not suffering the constitution to run out into an unwieldy bulk
or greatness of body (the usual consequence of full tables and too
much ease), but rather rendering it thereby nervous and sinewy, of a
just and equal growth, and consolidating and knitting together all the
several parts and members of it. A very little drink did serve their
turn, who never drank but when an extreme thirst provoked them to
it; for at all their common entertainments they studied the greatest
measures of sobriety, and took care they should be deprived of all
kinds of compotations whatsoever. And at night when they returned home,
they went cheerfully to their sleep, without the assistance of any
light to direct them to their lodging; that being prohibited them as
an indecent thing, the better to accustom them to travel in the dark,
without any sense of fear or apprehensions of danger.

4. They never applied their minds to any kind of learning, further
than what was necessary for use and service; nature indeed having
made them more fit for the purposes of war than for the improvements
of knowledge. And therefore for speculative sciences and philosophic
studies, they looked upon them as foreign to their business and
unserviceable to their ends of living, and for this reason they would
not tolerate them amongst them, nor suffer the professors of them to
live within their government. They banished them their cities, as
they did all sorts of strangers, esteeming them as things that did
debase the true worth and excellency of virtue, which they made to
consist only in manly actions and generous exercises, and not in vain
disputations and empty notions. So that the whole of what their youth
was instructed in was to learn obedience to the laws and injunctions
of their governors, to endure with patience the greatest labors, and
where they could not conquer, to die valiantly in the field. For this
reason likewise it was, that all mechanic arts and trades, all vain
and insignificant employments, such as regarded only curiosity or
pleasure, were strictly prohibited them, as things that would make
them degenerate into idleness and covetousness, would render them vain
and effeminate, useless to themselves, and unserviceable to the state;
and on this account it was that they would never suffer any scenes or
interludes, whether of comedy or tragedy, to be set up among them, lest
there should be any encouragement given to speak or act any thing that
might savor of contempt or contumely against their laws and government,
it being customary for the stage to assume an indecent liberty of
taxing the one with faults and the other with imperfections.

5. As to their apparel, they were as thinly clad as they were dieted,
never exceeding one garment, which they wore for the space of a
whole year. And this they did, the better to inure them to hardship
and to bear up against all the injuries of the weather, that so the
extremities of heat and cold should have no influence at all upon their
constitution. They were as regardless of their selves as they were
negligent of their clothes, denying themselves (unless it were at some
stated time of the year) the use of ointments and bathings to keep them
clean and sweet, as too expensive and signs of a too soft and delicate
temper of body.

6. Their youth, as they were instructed and ate in public together, so
at night slept in distinct companies in one common chamber, and on no
other beds than what were made of reeds, which they had gathered out of
the river Eurotas, near the banks of which they grew. This was the only
accommodation they had in the summer, but in winter they mingled with
the reeds a certain soft and downy thistle, having much more of heat
and warmth in it than the other.

7. It was freely allowed them to place an ardent affection upon
those whose excellent endowments recommended them to the love
and consideration of any one; but then this was always done with
the greatest innocency and modesty, and every way becoming the
strictest rules and measures of virtue, it being accounted a base and
dishonorable passion in any one to love the body and not the mind, as
those did who in their young men preferred the beauty of the one before
the excellency of the other. Chaste thoughts and modest discourses were
the usual entertainments of their loves; and if any one was accused at
any time either of wanton actions or impure discourse, it was esteemed
by all so infamous a thing, that the stains it left upon his reputation
could never be wiped out during his whole life.

8. So strict and severe was the education of their youth, that whenever
they were met with in the streets by your grave and elderly persons,
they underwent a close examination; it being their custom to enquire
of them upon what business and whither they were going, and if they
did not give them a direct and true answer to the question demanded
of them, but shamed them with some idle story or false pretence,
they never escaped without a rigorous censure and sharp correction.
And this they did to prevent their youth from stealing abroad upon
any idle or bad design, that so, through the uneasy fears of meeting
these grave examiners, and the impossibility of escaping punishment
upon their false account and representations of things, they might
be kept within due compass, and do nothing that might entrench upon
truth or offend against the rules of virtue. Nor was it expected
only from their superiors to censure and admonish them upon any
miscarriage or indecency whatsoever, but it was strictly required of
them under a severe penalty; for he who did not reprove a fault that
was committed in his presence, and showed not his just resentments
of it by a verbal correction, was adjudged equally culpable with the
guilty, and obnoxious to the same punishment. For they could not
imagine that person had a serious regard for the honor of their laws
and the reputation of their government, who could carelessly pass by
any immorality and patiently see the least corruption of good manners
in their youth; by which means they took away all occasions of
fondness, partiality, and indulgence in the aged, and all presumption,
irreverence, and disobedience, and especially all impatiency of
reproof, in the younger sort. For not to endure the reprehension of
their superiors in such cases was highly disgraceful to them, and ever
interpreted as an open renunciation of their authority, and a downright
opposing of the justice of their proceedings.

9. Besides, when any was surprised in the commission of some notorious
offence, he was presently sentenced to walk round a certain altar in
the city, and publicly to shame himself by singing an ingenious satire,
composed by himself, upon the crime and folly he had been guilty of,
that so the punishment might be inflicted by the same hand which had
contracted the guilt.

10. Their children were brought up in a strict obedience to their
parents, and taught from their infancy to pay a profound reverence
to all their dictates and commands. And no less were they enjoined
to show an awful regard and observance to all their superiors in age
and authority, so as to rise up before the hoary head, and to honor
the face of the old man, to give him the way when they met him in the
streets, and to stand still and remain silent till he was passed by;
insomuch as it was indulged them, as a peculiar privilege due to their
age and wisdom, not only to have a paternal authority over their own
children, servants, and estates, but over their neighbors too, as if
they were a part of their own family and propriety; that so in general
there might be a mutual care, and an united interest, zealously carried
on betwixt them for the private good of every one in particular, as
well as for the public good of the communities they lived in. By this
means they never wanted faithful counsellors to assist with good advice
in all their concerns, nor hearty friends to prosecute each other’s
interest as it were their own; by this means they never wanted careful
tutors and guardians for their youth, who were always at hand to
admonish and instruct them in the solid principles of virtue.

11. No one durst show himself refractory to their instructions, nor at
the least murmur at their reprehensions; insomuch that, whenever any of
their youth had been punished by them for some ill that had been done,
and a complaint thereupon made by them to their parents of the severity
they had suffered, hoping for some little relief from their indulgence
and affection, it was accounted highly dishonorable in them not to add
to their punishment by a fresh correction for the folly and injustice
of their complaint. For by the common interest of discipline, and that
great care that every one was obliged to take in the education of their
youth, they had a firm trust and assurance in one another, that they
never would enjoin their children the performance of any thing that was
in the least unnecessary or unbecoming them.

12. Though it might seem very strange and unaccountable in this wise
nation, that any thing which had the least semblance of baseness or
dishonesty should be universally approved, commended, and encouraged
by their laws, yet so it was in the case of theft, whereby their young
children were allowed to steal certain things, as particularly the
fruit of their orchards or their messes at their feasts. But then this
was not done to encourage them to the desires of avarice and injustice,
but to sharpen their wits, and to make them crafty and subtle, and
to train them up in all sorts of wiles and cunning, watchfulness and
circumspection, whereby they were rendered more apt to serve them
in their wars, which was upon the matter the whole profession of
this commonwealth. And if at any time they were taken in the act of
stealing, they were most certainly punished with rods and the penance
of fasting; not because they esteemed the stealth criminal, but because
they wanted skill and cunning in the management and concealing of
it.[47]

14. They spent a great part of their studies in poetry and music,
which raised their minds above the ordinary level, and by a kind of
artificial enthusiasm inspired them with generous heats and resolutions
for action. Their compositions, consisting only of very grave and moral
subjects, were easy and natural, in a plain dress, and without any
paint or ornament, containing nothing else but the just commendations
of those great personages whose singular wisdom and virtue had made
their lives famous and exemplary, and whose courage in defence of their
country had made their deaths honorable and happy. Nor were the valiant
and virtuous only the subject of these songs; but the better to make
men sensible of what rewards and honors are due to the memory of such,
they made invectives in them upon those who were signally vicious and
cowards, as men who died with as much contempt as they had lived with
infamy. They generally concluded their poem with a solemn profession of
what they would be, boasting of their progress in virtue, agreeable to
the abilities of their nature and the expectations of their age.

15. At all their public festivals these songs were a great part of
their entertainment, where there were three companies of singers,
representing the three several ages of nature. The old men made up the
first chorus, whose business was to present what they had been after
this manner:—

    That active courage youthful blood contains
    Did once with equal vigor warm our veins.

To which the chorus, consisting of young men only, thus answers:—

    Valiant and bold we are, let who will try:
    Who dare accept our challenge soon shall die.

The third, which were of young children, replied to them in this
manner:—

    Those seeds which Nature in our breast did sow
    Shall soon to generous fruits of virtue grow;
    Then all those valiant deeds which you relate
    We will excel, and scorn to imitate.[48]

16. They made use of a peculiar measure in their songs, when their
armies were in their march towards an enemy, which being sung in a
full choir to their flutes seemed proper to excite in them a generous
courage and contempt of death. Lycurgus was the first who brought this
warlike music into the field, that so he might moderate and soften
the rage and fury of their minds in an engagement by solemn musical
measures, and that their valor (which should be no boisterous and
unruly thing) might always be under the government of their reason, and
not of passion. To this end it was always their custom before the fight
to sacrifice to the Muses, that they might behave themselves with as
much good conduct as with courage, and do such actions as were worthy
of memory, and which might challenge the applauses and commendations of
every one.

17. And indeed so great an esteem and veneration had they for the
gravity and simplicity of their ancient music, that no one was allowed
to recede in the least from the established rules and measures of it,
insomuch as the Ephori, upon complaint made to them, laid a severe
mulct upon Terpander (a musician of great note and eminency for his
incomparable skill and excellency in playing upon the harp, and who,
as he had ever professed a great veneration for antiquity, so ever
testified by his eulogiums and commendations the esteem he always had
of virtuous and heroic actions), depriving him of his harp, and (as
a peculiar punishment) exposing it to the censure of the people, by
fixing it upon a nail, because he had added one string more to his
instrument than was the usual and stated number, though done with no
other design and advantage than to vary the sound, and to make it more
useful and pleasant. That music was ever accounted among them the best,
which was most grave, simple, and natural. And for this reason too,
when Timotheus in their Carnean feasts, which were instituted in honor
of Apollo, contended for a preference in his art, one of the Ephori
took a knife in his hand, and cut the strings of his harp, for having
exceeded the number of seven in it. So severely tenacious were they of
their ancient customs and practices, that they would not suffer the
least innovation, though in things that were indifferent and of no
great importance, lest an indulgence in one thing might have introduced
another, till at length by gradual and insensible alterations the whole
body of their laws might be disregarded and contemned, and so the main
pillar which did support the fabric of their government be weakened and
undermined.

18. Lycurgus took away that superstition, which formerly indeed had
been the practice among them, concerning their sepulchre and funeral
solemnities, by permitting them to bury the remains of their departed
friends within the city, that so they might the better secure them
from the rude and barbarous violence of an enemy, and to erect their
monuments for them in separated places joining to their temples; that,
having their graves and tombs always before their eyes, they might
not only remember but imitate the worthy actions they had done, and
so lessen the fears and apprehensions of death with the consideration
of those honors they paid their memories when they put off their
mortalities. He took away those pollutions which they formerly looked
upon as arising from their dead bodies, and prohibited all costly
and sumptuous expenses at their funerals, it being very improper for
those who while alive generally abstained from whatever was vain and
curious to be carried to the grave with any pomp and magnificence.
Therefore without the use of drugs and ointments, without any rich
odors and perfumes, without any art or curiosity, save only the little
ornament of a red vestment and a few olive-leaves, they carried him
to the place of burying, where he was, without any formal sorrows and
public lamentations, honorably and securely laid up in a decent and
convenient sepulchre. And here it was lawful for any one who would be
at the trouble to erect a monument for the person deceased, but not to
engrave the least inscription on it; this being the peculiar reward of
such only who had signalized themselves in war, and died gallantly in
defence of their country.

19, 20. It was not allowed any of them to travel into foreign
countries, lest their conversation should be tinctured with the customs
of those places, and they at their return introduce amongst them new
modes and incorrect ways of living, to the corruption of good manners
and the prejudice of their own laws and usage; for which reason they
expelled all strangers from Sparta, lest they should insinuate their
vices and their folly into the affections of the people, and leave in
the minds of their citizens the bad principles of softness and luxury,
ease and covetousness.

21. Nothing could sooner forfeit the right and privilege of a citizen,
than refusing their children that public education which their
laws and country demanded of them. For as none of them were on any
account exempt from obedience to their laws, so, if any one out of an
extraordinary tenderness and indulgence would not suffer his sons to be
brought up according to their strict discipline and institutions, he
was straightways disfranchised. For they could not think that person
could ever prove serviceable to their government, who had not been
educated with the same care and severity with his fellow-subjects. And
it was no less a shame and reproach to the parents themselves, who
could be of such mean and abject spirits as to prefer the love of their
children to the love of their country, and the satisfaction of a fond
and imprudent passion to the honor and security of their state.

23. Nay further, as there was a community of children, so there was of
their goods and estates, it being free for them in case of necessity
to make use of their neighbor’s servants, as if they were their own;
and not only so, but of their horses and dogs too, unless the owners
stood in need of them themselves, whenever they designed the diversion
of hunting, an exercise peculiar to this nation, and to which they were
accustomed from their youth. And if upon any extraordinary occasion any
one was pressed with the want of what his neighbors were possessed of,
he went freely to them and borrowed, as though he had been the right
proprietary of their storehouses; and being supplied answerably to his
necessities, he carefully sealed them up again and left them secure.

24. In all their warlike expeditions they generally clothed themselves
with a garment of a purple color, as best becoming the profession of
soldiers, and carrying in them a signification of that blood they
were resolved to shed in the service of their country. It was of use
likewise, not only to cast a greater terror into their adversaries
and to secure from their discovery the wounds they should receive,
but likewise for distinction’s sake, that in the heat and fury of the
battle they might discriminate each other from the enemy. They always
fought with consideration and cunning, craft being many times of more
advantage to them than downright blows; for it is not the multitude
of men, nor the strongest arm and the sharpest sword, that make men
masters of the field.

25. Whenever a victory was gained through a well-contrived stratagem,
and thereby with little loss of men and blood, they always sacrificed
an ox to Mars; but when the success was purely owing to their valor
and prowess, they only offered up a cock to him; it being in their
estimation more honorable for their generals and commanders to overcome
their enemies by policy and subtlety than by mere strength and courage.

26, 27. One great part of their religion lay in their solemn prayers
and devotion, which they daily offered up to their Gods, heartily
requesting of them to enable them to bear all kinds of injuries with
a generous and unshaken mind, and to reward them with honor and
prosperity, according to their performances of piety and virtue.

28. Besides, it was a great part of that honor they paid their Gods,
of whatever sex they were, to adorn them with military weapons and
armor, partly out of superstition and an extraordinary reverence they
had for the virtue of fortitude, which they preferred to all others,
and which they looked upon as an immediate gift of the Gods, as being
the greatest lovers and patrons of those who were endued with it; and
partly to encourage every one to address his devotions to them for
it; insomuch as Venus herself, who in other nations was generally
represented naked, had her armor too, as well as her particular altars
and worshippers.

29. Whenever they take any business of moment in hand, they generally
pray to Fortune in a set form of words for their success in it;[49] it
being no better in their esteem than profaneness and irreverence to
their Gods to invoke them upon slight and trivial emergencies.

30. No discovery of what is bad and vicious comes with greater evidence
to the spirits and apprehensions of children, who are unable to bear
the force of reason, than that which is offered to them by way of
example. Therefore the Spartan discipline did endeavor to preserve
their youth (on whom philosophical discourses would have made but
small impression) from all kinds of intemperance and excess of wine,
by presenting before them all the indecencies of their drunken Helots,
persons indeed who were their slaves, and employed not only in all
kinds of servile offices, but especially in tilling of their fields
and manuring of their ground, which was let out to them at reasonable
rates, they paying in every year their returns of rent, according to
what was anciently established and ordained amongst them at the first
general division of their lands. And if any did exact greater payments
from them, it was esteemed an execrable thing amongst them; they being
desirous that the Helots might reap gain and profit from their labors,
and thereupon be obliged faithfully to serve their masters as well
as their own interest with greater cheerfulness and industry. And
therefore their lords never required more of them than what bare custom
and contracts exacted of them.

33. They adjudged it necessary for the preservation of that gravity
and seriousness of manners which was required of their youth for the
attainments of wisdom and virtue, never to admit of any light and
wanton, any ludicrous or effeminate poetry; which made them allow of
no poets among them but such only who for their grave and virtuous
compositions were approved by the public magistrate; that being hereby
under some restraint, they might neither act nor write any thing to
the prejudice of good manners, or to the dishonor of their laws and
government.

34. And therefore it was, that when they heard of Archilochus’s arrival
at Sparta (though a Lacedaemonian, and of an excellent wit), yet they
presently commanded him to depart the city, having understood how that
in a poem of his he had affirmed it was greater wisdom for a man to
throw his arms away and secure himself by flight, than to stand to his
own defence with the hazard of his life, or therein to die valiantly in
the field. His words were after this manner:—

    Let who will boast their courage in the field,
    I find but little safety from my shield.
    Nature’s not Honor’s laws we must obey;
    This made me cast my useless shield away,
    And by a prudent flight and cunning save
    A life, which valor could not, from the grave.
    A better buckler I can soon regain,
    But who can get another life again?[50]

35. It was a received opinion amongst many nations, that some of their
Gods were propitious only to their men, and others only to their women,
which made them sometimes prohibit the one and sometimes the other
from being present at their sacred rites and solemnities. But the
Lacedaemonians took away this piece of superstition by not excluding
either sex from their temples and religious services; but, as they
were always bred up to the same civil exercises, so they were to the
same common performances of their holy mysteries, so that by an early
knowledge of each other there might be a real love and friendship
established betwixt them, which ever stood most firm upon the basis of
religion.

36. Their virtuous man, as he was to do no wrong, so likewise was not
to suffer any without a due sense and modest resentment of it; and
therefore the Ephori laid a mulct upon Sciraphidas, because he could
so tamely receive the many injuries and affronts that were offered
him,—concluding that he who was so insensible of his own interest as
not to stand up in a bold and honest vindication of himself from the
wrongs and injustice that may be done to his good name and honor,
would without all doubt be as dull and listless, when an opportunity
should invite him to it, in appearing for the defence of the fame and
reputation of his country.

39. Action and not speaking was the study and commendation of a
Spartan, and therefore polite discourses and long harangues were
not with them the character of a wise or learned man, their speech
being always grave and sententious, without any ornament or tedious
argumentation. They accustomed themselves to brevity, and upon every
subject to express themselves in the finest words, with as much satire
and smartness as possible; insomuch as they had a law among them for
the instruction of their youth, by which they were enjoined to practise
a close and compendious style in all their orations; which made them
banish one Cephisophon, a talkative rhetorician, for boasting publicly
that he could upon any subject whatsoever entertain his auditory for
a whole day together; alleging this as a sufficient reason for their
justification, that it was the part of a good orator to adjust his
discourse according to the weight and dignity of the matter he was to
treat of.

40. There was indeed a strange and unnatural custom amongst them,
annually observed at the celebration of the bloody rites of Diana
Orthia, where there was a certain number of children, not only of the
vulgar sort but of the gentry and nobility, who were whipped almost
to death with rods before the altar of the goddess; their parents and
relations standing by, and all the while exhorting them to patience
and constancy in suffering. Although this ceremony lasted for the
space of a whole day, yet they underwent this barbarous rite with such
a prodigious cheerfulness and resolution of mind as never could be
expected from the softness and tenderness of their age. They did not so
much as express one little sigh or groan during the whole solemnity,
but out of a certain emulation and desire of glory there was a
great contention among them, who should excel his companions in the
constancy of enduring the length and sharpness of their pains; and he
who held out the longest was ever the most esteemed and valued person
amongst them, and the glory and reputation wherewith they rewarded his
sufferings rendered his after life much more eminent and illustrious.

42. They had a very slight regard to maritime affairs, on the account
of an ancient law amongst them, whereby they were prohibited from
applying of themselves to the becoming of good seamen or engaging
themselves in any sea-fight. Afterwards indeed, through the necessity
of affairs and the security of their country, they judged it
convenient, when they were invaded by the Athenians and other nations,
to furnish themselves with a navy; by which it was that Lysander, who
was then the general in that expedition, obtained a great victory
over the Athenians, and thereby for a considerable time secured the
sovereignty of the seas to themselves. But finding afterwards this
grievance arising from it, that there was a very sensible corruption
of good manners and decay of discipline amongst them, from the
conversation of their rude and debauched mariners, they were obliged
to lay this profession wholly aside, and by a revival of this law
endeavor to retrieve their ancient sobriety, and, by turning the bent
and inclinations of the people into their old channel again, to make
them tractable and obedient, modest and virtuous. Though indeed they
did not long hold to their resolution herein, any more than they were
wont to do in other matters of moment, which could not but be variable,
according to the circumstances of affairs and the necessities of their
government. For though great riches and large possessions were things
they hated to death, it being a capital crime and punishment to have
any gold or silver in their houses, or to amass up together heaps of
money (which was generally made with them of iron or leather),—for
which reason several had been put to death, according to that law which
banished covetousness out of the city, on the account of an answer of
their oracle to Alcamenes and Theopompus, two of their Spartan kings,

    That the love of money should be the ruin of Sparta,—

yet notwithstanding the severe penalty annexed to the heaping up much
wealth, and the example of those who had suffered for it, Lysander
was highly honored and rewarded for bringing in a great quantity of
gold and silver to Lacedaemon, after the victory he had gained over
the Athenians, and the taking of the city of Athens itself, wherein an
inestimable treasure was found. So that what had been a capital crime
in others was a meritorious act in him. It is true indeed that as long
as the Spartans did adhere closely to the observation of the laws and
rules of Lycurgus, and keep their oath religiously to be true to their
own government, they outstripped all the other cities of Greece for
prudence and valor, and for the space of five hundred years became
famous everywhere for the excellency of their laws and the wisdom of
their policy. But when the honor of these laws began to lessen and
their citizens grew luxurious and exorbitant, when covetousness and
too much liberty had softened their minds and almost destroyed the
wholesome constitution of their state, their former greatness and power
began by little and little to decay and dwindle in the estimation
of men. And as by reason of these vices and ill customs they proved
unserviceable to themselves, so likewise they became less formidable
to others; insomuch as their several allies and confederates, who had
with them jointly carried on their common good and interest, were
wholly alienated from them. But although their affairs were in such a
languishing posture, when Philip of Macedon, after his great victory at
Chaeronea, was by the Grecians declared their general both by land and
sea, as likewise his son Alexander after the conquest of the Thebans;
yet the Lacedaemonians, though their cities had no other walls for
their security, but only their own courage, though by reason of their
frequent wars they were reduced to low measures and small numbers of
men, and thereby become so weak as to be an easy prey to any powerful
enemy, yet retaining amongst them some reverence for those few remains
of Lycurgus’s institution and government, they could not be brought
to assist these two, or any other of their Macedonian kings in their
wars and expeditions; neither could they be prevailed with to assist
at their common assemblies and consults with them, nor pay any tribute
or contributions to them. But when all those laws and customs (which
are the main pillars that support a state) enacted by Lycurgus, and so
highly approved of by the government, were now universally despised
and unobserved, they immediately became a prey to the ambition and
usurpation, to the cruelty and tyranny of their fellow-citizens; and
having no regard at all to their ancient virtues and constitution, they
utterly lost their ancient glory and reputation, and by degrees, as
well as weaker nations, did in a very little time everywhere degenerate
into poverty, contempt, and servitude; being at present subject to the
Romans, like all the other cities of Greece.




CONCERNING MUSIC.[51]


ONESICRATES, SOTERICHUS, LYSIAS.

1. The wife of Phocion the just was always wont to maintain that her
chiefest glory consisted in the warlike achievements of her husband.
For my part, I am of opinion that all my glory, not only that peculiar
to myself, but also what is common to all my familiar friends and
relations, flows from the care and diligence of my master that taught
me learning. For the most renowned performances of great commanders
tend only to the preservation of some few private soldiers or the
safety of a single city or nation, but make neither the soldiers nor
the citizens nor the people any thing the better. But true learning,
being the essence and body of felicity and the source of prudence, we
find to be profitable and beneficial, not only to one house or city or
nation, but to all the race of men. Therefore by how much the more the
benefit and advantage of learning transcends the profits of military
performances, by so much the more is it to be remembered and mentioned,
as most worthy your study and esteem.

2. For this reason, upon the second day of the Saturnalian festival,
the famous Onesicrates invited certain persons, the best skilled in
music, to a banquet; by name Soterichus of Alexandria, and Lysias,
one of those to whom he gave a yearly pension. After all had done and
the table was cleared,—To dive, said he, most worthy friends, into
the nature and reason of the human voice is not an argument proper
for this merry meeting, as being a subject that requires a more sober
scrutiny. But because our chiefest grammarians define the voice to be
a percussion of the air made sensible to the ear, and for that we were
yesterday discoursing of Grammar,—which is an art that can give the
voice form and shape by means of letters, and store it up in the memory
as a magazine,—let us consider what is the next science to this which
may be said to relate to the voice. In my opinion, it must be music.
For it is one of the chiefest and most religious duties belonging to
man, to celebrate the praise of the Gods, who gave to him alone the
most excelling advantage of articulate discourse, as Homer has observed
in the following verses:—

    With sacred hymns and songs that sweetly please,
    The Grecian youth all day the Gods appease;
    Their lofty paeans bright Apollo hears,
    And still the charming sounds delight his ears.[52]

Now then, you that are of the grand musical chorus, tell your friends,
who was the first that brought music into use; what time has added for
the advantage of the science; who have been the most famous of its
professors; and lastly, for what and how far it may be beneficial to
mankind.

3. This the scholar propounded; to which Lysias made reply. Noble
Onesicrates, said he, you desire the solution of a hard question, that
has been by many already proposed. For of the Platonics the most, of
the Peripatetic philosophers the best, have made it their business to
compile several treatises concerning the ancient music and the reasons
why it came to lose its pristine perfection. Nay, the very grammarians
and musicians themselves who arrived to the height of education have
expended much time and study upon the same subject, whence has arisen
great variety of discording opinions among the several writers.
Heraclides in his Compendium of Music asserts, that Amphion, the son
of Jupiter and Antiope, was the first that invented playing on the
harp and lyric poesy, being first instructed by his father; which is
confirmed by a small manuscript, preserved in the city of Sicyon,
wherein is set down a catalogue of the priests, poets, and musicians
of Argos. In the same age, he tells us, Linus the Euboean composed
several elegies; Anthes of Anthedon in Boeotia was the first author of
hymns, and Pierus of Pieria the first that wrote in the praise of the
Muses. Philammon also, the Delphian, set forth in verse a poem in honor
of the nativity of Latona, Diana, and Apollo, and was the first that
instituted dancing about the temple of Delphi. Thamyras, of Thracian
extraction, had the best voice and the neatest manner of singing of
any of his time; so that the poets feigned him to be a contender with
the Muses. He is said to have described in a poem the Titans’ war
against the Gods. There was also Demodocus the Corcyraean, who is said
to have written the Destruction of Troy, and the Nuptials of Vulcan
and Venus; and then Phemius of Ithaca composed a poem, entitled The
Return of those who came back with Agamemnon from Troy. Not that any
of these stories before cited were compiled in a style like prose
without metre; they were rather like the poems of Stesichorus and other
ancient lyric poets, who composed in heroic verse and added a musical
accompaniment. The same Heraclides writes that Terpander, the first
that instituted the lyric _nomes_,[53] set verses of Homer as well as
his own to music according to each of these nomes, and sang them at
public trials of skill. He also was the first to give names to the
lyric nomes. In imitation of Terpander, Clonas, an elegiac and epic
poet, first instituted nomes for flute-music, and also the songs called
Prosodia.[54] And Polymnestus the Colophonian in later times used the
same measure in his compositions.

4. Now the measures appointed by these persons, noble Onesicrates,
in reference to such songs as are to be sung to the flutes or pipes,
were distinguished by these names,—Apothetus, Elegiac, Comarchius,
Schoenion, Cepion, Tenedius, and Trimeles (or of three parts).

To these succeeding ages added another sort, which were called
Polymnastia. But the measures set down for those that played and
sung to the harp, being the invention of Terpander, were much more
ancient than the former. To these he gave the several appellations
of Boeotian, Aeolian, Trochaean, the Acute, Cepion, Terpandrian, and
Tetraoedian.[55] And Terpander made preludes to be sung to the lyre in
heroic verse. Besides, Timotheus testifies how that the lyric nomes
were anciently appropriated to epic verses. For Timotheus merely
intermixed the dithyrambic style with the ancient nomes in heroic
measure, and thus sang them, that he might not seem to make too sudden
an innovation upon the ancient music. But as for Terpander, he seems to
have been the most excellent composer to the harp of his age, for he is
recorded to have been four times in succession a victor at the Pythian
games. And certainly he was one of the most ancient musicians in the
world; for Glaucus the Italian in his treatise of the ancient poets and
musicians asserts him to have lived before Archilochus, affirming him
to be the second next to those that first invented wind-music.

5. Alexander in his Collections of Phrygia says, that Olympus was the
first that brought into Greece the manner of touching the strings
with a quill; and next to him were the Idaean Dactyli; Hyagnis was
the first that sang to the pipe; after him his son Marsyas, then
Olympus; that Terpander imitated Homer in his verses and Orpheus in his
musical compositions; but that Orpheus never imitated any one, since
in his time there were none but such as composed to the pipe, which
was a manner quite different from that of Orpheus. Clonas, a composer
of nomes for flute-music, and somewhat later than Terpander, as the
Arcadians affirm, was born in Tegea or, as the Boeotians allege, at
Thebes. After Terpander and Clonas flourished Archilochus; yet there
are some writers who affirm, that Ardalus the Troezenian taught the
manner of composing to wind-music before Clonas. There was also the
poet Polymnestus, the son of Meles the Colophonian, who invented the
Polymnestian measures. They farther write that Clonas invented the
nomes Apothetus and Schoenion. Of Polymnestus mention is made by Pindar
and Alcman, both lyric poets; but of several of the lyric nomes said to
be instituted by Terpander they make Philammon (the ancient Delphian)
author.

6. Now the music appropriated to the harp, such as it was in the time
of Terpander, continued in all its simplicity, till Phrynis grew into
esteem. For it was not the ancient custom to make lyric poems in the
present style, or to intermix measures and rhythms. For in each nome
they were careful to observe its own proper pitch; whence came the
expression _nome_ (from νόμος, _law_), because it was unlawful to
alter the pitch appointed for each one. At length, falling from their
devotion to the Gods, they began to sing the verses of Homer and other
poets. This is manifest by the proems of Terpander. Then for the form
of the harp, it was such as Cepion, one of Terpander’s scholars, first
caused to be made, and it was called the Asian harp, because the
Lesbian harpers bordering upon Asia always made use of it. And it is
said that Periclitus, a Lesbian by birth, was the last harper who won a
prize by his skill, which he did at one of the Spartan festivals called
Carneia; but he being dead, that succession of skilful musicians, which
had so long continued among the Lesbians, expired. Some there are who
erroneously believe that Hipponax was contemporary with Terpander, when
it is plain that Hipponax lived after Periclitus.

7. Having thus discoursed of the several nomes appropriated to the
stringed as well as to the wind instruments, we will now speak
something in particular concerning those peculiar to the wind
instruments. First they say, that Olympus, a Phrygian player upon
the flute, invented a certain nome in honor of Apollo, which he
called Polycephalus,[56] or of many heads. This Olympus, they say,
was descended from the first Olympus, the scholar of Marsyas, who
invented several forms of composition in honor of the Gods; and he,
being a boy beloved of Marsyas, and by him taught to play upon the
flute, first brought into Greece the laws of harmony. Others ascribe
the Polycephalus to Crates, the scholar of Olympus; though Pratinas
will have Olympus the younger to be the author of it. The Harmatian
nome is also said to be invented by Olympus, the scholar of Marsyas.
This Marsyas was by some said to be called Masses; which others deny,
not allowing him any other name but that of Marsyas, the son of that
Hyagnis who invented the art of playing upon the pipe. But that
Olympus was the author of the Harmatian nome is plainly to be seen in
Glaucus’s treatise of the ancient poets; and that Stesichorus of Himera
imitated neither Orpheus nor Terpander nor Antilochus nor Thales, but
Olympus, and that he made use of the Harmatian nome and the dactylic
dance, which some rather apply to the Orthian mood, while others aver
it to have been the invention of the Mysians, for that some of the
ancient pipers were Mysians.

8. There was also another mood in use among the ancients, called
Cradias, which Hipponax says Mimnermus always delighted in. For
formerly they that played upon the flute sang also elegies at the same
time set to notes. Which the description of the Panathenaea concerning
the musical combat makes manifest. Among the rest, Sacadas of Argos
set several odes and elegies to music, he himself being also a good
flute-player and thrice a victor at the Pythian games. Of him Pindar
makes mention. Now whereas in the time of Polymnestus and Sacadas there
existed three musical moods, the Dorian, Phrygian, and Lydian, it is
said that Sacadas composed a strophe in every one of those moods, and
then taught the choruses to sing the first after the Dorian manner,
the second according to the Phrygian, and the third after the Lydian
manner; and this nome was called Trimeres (or threefold) by reason of
the shifting of the moods, although in the Sicyonian catalogue of the
poets Clonas is said to be the inventor of this name.

9. Music then received its first constitution from Terpander at Sparta.
Of the second constitution, Thaletas the Gortinean, Xenodamus the
Cytherean, Xenocritus the Locrian, Polymnestus the Colophonian, and
Sacadas the Argive were deservedly acknowledged to be the authors. For
these, having introduced the Gymnopaediae into Lacedaemon, settled the
so-called Apodeixeis (or Exhibitions) among the Arcadians, and the
Endymatia in Argos. Now Thaletas, Xenodamus, and Xenocritus, and their
scholars, were poets that addicted themselves altogether to making
of paeans; Polymnestus was all for the Orthian or military strain,
and Sacadas for elegies. Others, and among the rest Pratinas, affirm
Xenodamus to have been a maker of songs for dances (Hyporchemes), and
not of paeans; and a tune of Xenodamus is preserved, which plainly
appears to have been composed for a dance. Now that a paean differs
from a song made for a dance is manifest from the poems of Pindar, who
made both.

10. Polymnestus also composed nomes for flute-music; but in the
Orthian nome he made use of his lyric vein, as the students in harmony
declare. But in this we cannot be positive, because we have nothing
of certainty concerning it from antiquity; and whether Thaletas of
Crete was a composer of hymns is much doubted. For Glaucus, asserting
Thaletas to be born after Archilochus, says that he imitated the odes
of Archilochus, only he made them longer, and used the Paeonic and
Cretic rhythm, which neither Archilochus nor Orpheus nor Terpander
ever did; for Thaletas learned these from Olympus, and became a good
poet besides. As for Xenocritus the Locrian from Italy, it is much
questioned whether he was a maker of paeans or not, as being one that
always took heroic subjects with dramatic action for his verses, for
which reason some there were who called his arguments Dithyrambic.
Moreover, Glaucus asserts Thaletas to have preceded him in time.

11. Olympus, by the report of Aristoxenus, is supposed by the musicians
to have been the inventor of the enharmonic species of music; for
before him there was no other than the diatonic and chromatic. And
it is thought that the invention of the enharmonic species was thus
brought to pass:[57] for that Olympus before altogether composing
and playing in the diatonic species, and having frequent occasion
to shift to the diatonic parhypate, sometimes from the paramese and
sometimes from the mese, skipping the diatonic lichanos, he found
the beauty that appeared in the new character; and thus, admiring a
conjunction or scheme so agreeable to proportion, he made this new
species in the Doric mood. For now he held no longer to what belonged
either to the diatonic or to the chromatic, but he was already come to
the enharmonic. And the first foundations of enharmonic music which
he laid were these: in enharmonics the first thing that appears is
the spondiasmus,[58] to which none of the divisions of the tetrachord
seems properly to belong, unless any one will take the more intense
spondiasmus to be diatonic. But he that maintained this would maintain
a falsehood and an absurdity in harmony; a falsehood, because it would
be less by a diesis than is required by the leading note; an absurdity
in harmony, because, even if we should place the proper nature of the
more intense spondiasmus in the simple chromatic, it would then come to
pass, that two double tones would follow in order, the one compounded,
the other uncompounded. For the thick enharmonic now used in the middle
notes does not seem to be the invention of the fore-mentioned author.
But this is more easily understood by hearing any musician play in the
ancient style; for then you shall find the semi-tone in the middle
parts to be uncompounded.

These were the beginnings of enharmonic music; afterwards the semitone
was also divided, as well in the Phrygian as Lydian moods. But Olympus
seems to have advanced music by producing something never known or
heard of before, and to have gained to himself the honor of being the
most excellent, not only in the Grecian but in all other music.

12. Let us now proceed to rhythms; for there were several varieties
of these, as well in musical as in rhythmical composition. And here
Terpander, among all those novelties with which he adorned music,
introduced an elegant manner, that gave it much life. After him, beside
the Terpandrian, which he did not relinquish, Polymnestus brought in
use another of his own, retaining however the former elegant manner,
as did also Thaletas and Sacadas. Other innovations were also made by
Alkman and Stesichorus, who nevertheless receded not from the ancient
forms. But Crexus, Timotheus, and Philoxenus, and those other poets of
the same age, growing more arrogant and studious of novelty, affected
those other manners now called Philanthropic and Thematic. For now the
fewness of strings and the plainness and majesty of the old music are
looked upon as absolutely out of date.

13. And now, having discoursed to the best of my ability of the ancient
music and the first inventors of it, and how succeeding ages brought
it to more and more perfection, I shall make an end, and give way to
my friend Soterichus, not only greatly skilled in music but in all
the rest of the sciences. For we have always labored rather on the
practical than the contemplative part. Which when Lysias had said, he
forbare speaking any farther; but then Soterichus thus began.

14. Most noble Onesicrates, said he, since you have engaged us to
speak our knowledge concerning the most venerable excellencies of
music, which is most pleasing to the Gods, I cannot but approve the
learning of our master Lysias, and his great memory in reciting all the
inventors of the ancient music, and those who have written concerning
it. But I must needs say, that he has given us this account, trusting
only to what he has found recorded. We on the other side have not
heard of any man that was the inventor of the benefits of music, but
of the God Apollo, adorned with all manner of virtue. The flute was
neither the invention of Marsyas nor Olympus nor Hyagnis; nor was the
harp Apollo’s invention only, but as a God he was the inventor of all
the music both of the flute and harp. This is manifest from the dances
and sacrifices which were solemnized to Apollo, as Alcaeus and others
in their hymns relate. His statue also placed in the Temple of Delos
holds in his right hand a bow; at his left the Graces stand, with every
one a musical instrument in her hands, one carrying a harp, another a
flute, another with a shepherd’s pipe set to her lips. And that this
is no conceit of mine appears from this, that Anticles and Ister have
testified the same in their commentaries upon these things. And the
statue is reported to be so ancient, that the artificers were said to
have lived in the time of Hercules. The youth also that carries the
Tempic laurel into Delphi is accompanied by one playing upon the flute.
And the sacred presents of the Hyperboreans were sent of old to Delos,
attended with flutes, pipes, and harps. Some have thought that the God
himself played upon the flute, as the best of lyrics, Alcman, relates.
Corinna also asserts that Apollo was by Minerva taught to pipe.
Venerable is therefore music altogether, as being the invention of the
Gods.

15. The ancients made use of it for its worth, as they did all other
beneficial sciences. But our men of art, contemning its ancient
majesty, instead of that manly, grave, heaven-born music, so acceptable
to the Gods, have brought into the theatres a sort of effeminate
musical tattling, mere sound without substance; which Plato utterly
rejects in the third book of his commonwealth, refusing the Lydian
harmony as fit only for lamentations. And they say that this was first
instituted for doleful songs. Aristoxenus, in his first book of music,
tells us how that Olympus sang an elegy upon the death of Python in the
Lydian mood, though some will have Menalippides to be the author of
that song. Pindar, in his paean on the nuptials of Niobe, asserts that
the Lydian harmony was first used by Anthippus. Others affirm, that
Torebus was the first that made use of that sort of harmony; among the
rest, Dionysius the iambic writer.

16. The mixed Lydian moves the affections, and is fit for tragedies.
This mood, as Aristoxenus alleges, was invented by Sappho, from whom
the tragedians learned it and joined it with the Doric. The one becomes
a majestic, lofty style, the other mollifies and stirs to pity; both
which are the properties of tragedy. The history of music, however,
made Pythoclides the flute-player to be the author of it; and Lysis
reports that Lamprocles the Athenian, finding that the diazeuxis (or
separation of two tetrachords) was not where almost all others thought
it had been, but toward the treble, made such a scheme as is now from
paramese to the highest hypate. But for the softer Lydian, being
contrary to the mixed Lydian and like the Ionian, they say it was
invented by Damon the Athenian.

17. But as for those sorts of harmony, the one being sad and doleful,
the other loose and effeminate, Plato deservedly rejected them, and
made choice of the Dorian, as more proper for sober and warlike men;
not being ignorant, however (as Aristoxenus discourses in his second
book of music), that there might be something advantageous in the rest
to a circumspect and wary commonwealth. For Plato gave much attention
to the art of music, as being the hearer of Draco the Athenian and
Metellus the Agrigentine; but considering, as we have intimated before,
that there was much more majesty in the Dorian mood, it was that
he preferred. He knew moreover that Aleman, Pindar, Simonides, and
Bacchylides had composed several Parthenia in the Doric mood; and that
several Prosodia (or supplications to the Gods), several hymns and
tragical lamentations, and now and then love verses, were composed to
the same melody. But he contented himself with such songs as were made
in honor of Mars or Minerva, or else such as were to be sung at solemn
offerings, called Spondeia. For these he thought sufficient to fortify
and raise the mind of a sober person; not being at all ignorant in the
mean time of the Lydian and Ionian, of which he knew the tragedians
made use.

18. Moreover, the ancients well understood all the sorts of styles,
although they used but few. For it was not their ignorance that
confined them to such narrow instruments and so few strings; nor was it
out of ignorance that Olympus and Terpander and those that came after
them would not admit of larger instruments and more variety of strings.
This is manifest from the poems of Olympus and Terpander and all those
that were their imitators. For, being plain and without any more than
three strings, these so far excelled those that were more numerously
strung, insomuch that none could imitate Olympus’s play; and they were
all inferior to him when they betook themselves to their polychords.

19. Then again, that the ancients did not through ignorance abstain
from the third string in the spondaic style, their use of it in play
makes apparent. For had they not known the use of it, they would never
have struck it in harmony with parhypate; but the elegancy and gravity
that attended the spondaic style by omitting the third string induced
them to transfer the music to paranete. The same reason may serve for
nete; for this in play they struck in concord to mese, but in discord
to paranete, although in song it did not seem to them proper to the
slow spondaic motion. And not only did they do this, but they did the
same with nete of the conjunct heptachords; for in play they struck
it in concord to mese and lichanos, and in discord to paranete and
parhypate;[59] but in singing those touches were no way allowable, as
being ungrateful to the ear and shaming the performer. As certain it is
from the Phrygians that Olympus and his followers were not ignorant of
the third string; for they made use of it not only in pulsation, but in
their hymns to the Mother of the Gods and several other Phrygian songs.
Nor is it less apparent, with regard to the ὑπάται, that they never
abstained for want of skill from that tetrachord in the Dorian mood;
indeed in other moods they knowingly made use of it, but removed it
from the Dorian mood to preserve its elegant gravity.

20. The same thing was done also by the tragedians. For the tragedians
have never to this day used either the chromatic or the enharmonic
scale; while the lyre, many generations older than tragedy, used them
from the very beginning. Now that the chromatic was more ancient than
the enharmonic is plain. For we must necessarily account it of greater
antiquity, according to the custom and use of men themselves; otherwise
it cannot be said that any of the differences and distinctions were
ancienter the one than the other. Therefore, if any one should allege
that Aeschylus or Phrynichus abstained from the chromatic out of
ignorance, would he not be thought to maintain a very great absurdity?
Such a one might as well aver that Pancrates lay under the same
blindness, who avoided it in most, but made use of it in some things;
therefore he forebore not out of ignorance, but judgment, imitating
Pindar and Simonides and that which is at present called the ancient
manner.

21. The same may be said of Tyrtaeus the Mantinean, Andreas the
Corinthian, Thrasyllus the Phliasian, and several others, who, as we
well know, abstained by choice from the chromatic, from transition,
from the increased number of strings, and many other common forms of
rhythms, tunes, diction, composition, and expression. Telephanes of
Megara was so great an enemy to the pipe made of reed (called syrinx),
that he would not suffer the instrument maker to join it to the flute
(pipe made of wood or horn), and chiefly for that reason forbore to
go to the Pythian games. In short, if a man should be thought to be
ignorant of that which he makes no use of, there would be found a great
number of ignorant persons in this age. For we see that the admirers of
the Dorian composition make no use of the Antiginedian; the followers
of the Antiginedian reject the Dorian; and other musicians refuse to
imitate Timotheus, being almost all bewitched with the trifles and the
idle poems of Polyidus. On the other side, if we dive into the business
of variety and compare antiquity with the present times, we shall find
there was great variety then, and that frequently made use of. For then
the variation of rhythm was more highly esteemed, and the change of
their manner of play more frequent. We are now lovers of fables, they
were then lovers of rhythm. Plain it is therefore, that the ancients
did not refrain from broken measures out of ignorance, but out of
judgment. And yet what wonder is this, when there are so many other
things necessary to human life which are not unknown, though not made
use of by those who have no occasion to use them? But they are refused,
and the use of them is altogether neglected, as not being found proper
on many occasions.

22. Having already shown that Plato neither for want of skill nor
for ignorance blamed all the other moods and casts of composition,
we now proceed to show that he really was skilled in harmony. For in
his discourse concerning the procreation of the soul, inserted into
Timaeus, he has made known his great knowledge in all the sciences,
and of music among the rest, in this manner: “After this,” saith he,
“he filled up the double and treble intervals, taking parts from
thence, and adding them to the midst between them, so that there were
in every interval two middle terms.”[60] This proem was the effect of
his experience in music, as we shall presently make out. The means
from whence every mean is taken are three, arithmetical, enharmonical,
geometrical. Of these the first exceeds and is exceeded in number,
the second in proportion, the third neither in number nor proportion.
Plato therefore, desirous to show the harmony of the four elements in
the soul, and harmonically also to explain the reason of that mutual
concord arising from discording and jarring principles, undertakes to
make out two middle terms of the soul in every interval, according to
harmonical proportion. Thus in a musical octave there happen to be
two middle distances, whose proportion we shall explain. As for the
octaves, they keep a double proportion between their two extremes. For
example, let the double arithmetical proportion be 6 and 12, this being
the interval between the ὑπάτη μέσων and the νήτη διεζευγμένων; 6
therefore and 12 being the two extremes, the former note contains the
number 6, and the latter 12. To these are to be added the intermediate
numbers, to which the extremes must hold the proportion, the one of one
and a third, and the other of one and a half. These are the numbers 8
and 9. For as 8 contains one and a third of 6, so 9 contains one and
a half of 6; thus you have one extreme. The other is 12, containing 9
and a third part of 9, and 8 and half 8. These then being the numbers
between 6 and 12, and the interval of the octave consisting of a
diatessaron and diapente, it is plain that the number 8 belongs to
mese, and the number 9 to paramese; which being so, it follows that
hypate is to mese as paramese to nete of the disjunct tetrachords; for
it is a fourth from the first term to the second of this proportion,
and the same interval from the third term to the fourth. The same
proportion will be also found in the numbers. For as 6 is to 8, so is 9
to 12; and as 6 is to 9, so is 8 to 12. For 8 is one and a third part
of 6, and 12 of 9; while 9 is one and a half part of 6, and 12 of 8.
What has been said may suffice to show how great was Plato’s zeal and
learning in the liberal sciences.

23. Now that there is something of majesty, something great and
divine in music, Aristotle, who was Plato’s scholar, thus labors to
convince the world: “Harmony,” saith he, “descended from heaven, and
is of a divine, noble, and angelic nature; but being fourfold as to
its efficacy, it has two means,—the one arithmetical, the other
enharmonical. As for its members, its dimensions, and its excesses of
intervals, they are best discovered by number and equality of measure,
the whole art being contained in two tetrachords.” These are his
words. The body of it, he saith, consists of discording parts, yet
concording one with another; whose means nevertheless agree according
to arithmetical proportion. For the upper string being fitted to the
lowest in the ratio of two to one produces a perfect diapason. Thus, as
we said before, nete consisting of twelve units, and hypate of six, the
paramese accords with hypate according to the sesquialter proportion,
and has nine units, whilst mese has eight units. So that the chiefest
intervals through the whole scale are the diatessaron (which is the
proportion of 4:3), the diapente (which is the proportion of 3:2), and
the diapason (which is the proportion of 2:1); while the proportion
of 9:8 appears in the interval of a tone. With the same inequalities
of excess or diminution, all the extremes are differenced one from
another, and the means from the means, either according to the quantity
of the numbers or the measure of geometry; which Aristotle thus
explains, observing that nete exceeds mese by a third part of itself,
and hypate is exceeded by paramese in the same proportion, so that the
excesses stand in proportion. For by the same parts of themselves they
exceed and are exceeded; that is, the extremes (nete and hypate) exceed
and are exceeded by mese and paramese in the same proportions, those
of 4:3 and of 3:2. Now these excesses are in what is called harmonic
progression. But the distances of nete from mese and of paramese from
hypate, expressed in numbers, are in the same proportion (12:8 = 9:6);
for paramese exceeds mese by one-eighth of the latter. Again, nete is
to hypate as 2:1; paramese to hypate as 3:2; and mese to hypate as 4:3.
This, according to Aristotle, is the natural constitution of harmony,
as regards its parts and its numbers.

24. But, according to natural philosophy, both harmony and its parts
consist of even, odd, and also even-odd. Altogether it is even, as
consisting of four terms; but its parts and proportions are even, odd,
and even-odd. So nete is even, as consisting of twelve units; paramese
is odd, of nine; mese even, of eight; and hypate even-odd, of six
(i.e., 2 x 3). Whence it comes to pass, that music—herself and her
parts—being thus constituted as to excesses and proportion, the whole
accords with the whole, and also with each one of the parts.

25. But now as for the senses that are created within the body,
such as are of celestial and heavenly extraction, and which by
divine assistance affect the understanding of men by means of
harmony,—namely, sight and hearing,—do by the very light and voice
express harmony. And others which are their attendants, so far as they
are senses, likewise exist by harmony; for they perform none of their
effects without harmony; and although they are inferior to the other
two, they are not independent of them. Nay, those two also, since they
enter into human bodies at the very same time with God himself, claim
by reason a vigorous and incomparable nature.

26. Manifest from hence therefore it is, why the ancient Greeks, with
more reason than others, were so careful to teach their children music.
For they deemed it requisite by the assistance of music to form and
compose the minds of youth to what was decent, sober, and virtuous;
believing the use of music beneficially efficacious to incite to all
serious actions, especially to the adventuring upon warlike dangers.
To which purpose they made use of pipes or flutes when they advanced
in battle array against their enemies; like the Lacedaemonians, who
upon the same occasion caused the Castorean melody to be played before
their battalions. Others inflamed their courage with harps, playing the
same sort of harmony when they went to look danger in the face, as the
Cretans did for a long time. Others, even to our own times, continue
to use the trumpet. The Argives made use of flutes at their wrestling
matches called Stheneia; which sort of sport was first instituted in
honor of Danaus, but afterwards consecrated to Jupiter Sthenius, or
Jupiter the Mighty. And now at this day it is the custom to make use
of flutes at the games called Pentathla, although there is now nothing
exquisite or antique, nothing like what was customary among men of old
time, like the song composed by Hierax for this very game; still, even
though it is sorry stuff and nothing exquisite, it is accompanied by
flute-music.

27. But among the more ancient Greeks, music in theatres was never
known, for they employed their whole musical skill in the worship of
the Gods and the education of youth; at which time, there being no
theatres erected, music was yet confined within the walls of their
temples, as being that with which they worshipped the supreme Deity
and sang the praises of virtuous men. And it is probable that the word
θέατρον, at a later period, and θεωρεῖν (_to behold_) much earlier,
were derived from θεός (_God_). But in our age is such another face of
new inventions, that there is not the least remembrance or care of that
use of music which related to education; for all our musicians make
it their business to court the theatre Muses, and study nothing but
compositions for the stage.

28. But some will say, Did the ancients invent nothing themselves?
Yes, say I, they did invent, but their inventions were grave and
decent. For they who have written the history of music attribute to
Terpander the addition of the Dorian nete, which before was not in
use. Even the whole Mixolydian mood is a new invention. Such were
also the Orthian manner of melody with Orthian rhythms, and also the
Trochaeus Semantus.[61] And if we believe Pindar, Terpander was the
inventor of the Scolion (or roundelay). Archilochus also invented the
rhythmic composition of the iambic trimeter, the change to rhythms
of different character, the melo-dramatic delivery,[62] and the
accompaniment proper to each of these. He is also presumed to be the
author of epodes, tetrameters, the Cretic and the prosodiac rhythms,
and the augmentation of the heroic verse. Some make him author also of
the elegiac measure, as likewise of the extending the iambic to the
paeon epibatus, the prolonged and heroic to the prosodiac and Cretic.
And Archilochus is first said to have taught how iambics could be
partly recited to the stroke of the lyre and partly sung; from him the
tragedians learned it, and from them Crexus took it, and made use of
it in dithyrambics. It is thought that he invented also playing on the
lyre at intervals in the song, whereas the ancients played only during
the singing.

29. Of the Hypolydian mood they make Polymnestus the inventor, and
the first that taught the lowering and raising of the voice (ἔκλυσις
and ἐκβολή). To the same Olympus to whom they also ascribe the first
invention of Grecian and well-regulated nomic music they attribute
likewise the finding out the enharmonic music, the prosodiac measure
to which is composed the hymn to Mars, and the chorean measure which
he used in the hymns to the Mother of the Gods. Some report him to be
the author also of the bacchius. And every one of the ancient songs
show that this is so. But Lasus of Hermione, transferring the rhythms
to suit the dithyrambic time, and making use of an instrument with many
notes, made an absolute innovation upon the ancient music, by the use
of more notes, and those more widely distributed.

30. In like manner Menalippides the lyric poet, Philoxenus and
Timotheus, all forsook the ancient music. For whereas until the time of
Terpander the Antissaean the harp had only seven strings, he[63] added
a greater number, and gave its notes a wider range. The wind-music
also exchanged its ancient plainness for a more copious variety. For
in ancient times, till Menalippides the dithyrambic came into request,
the wind-music received salaries from the poets, poetry holding
the first rank and the musicians being in the service of the poet.
Afterwards that custom grew out of date; insomuch that Pherecrates the
comedian brings in Music in woman’s habit, all bruised and battered,
and then introduces Justice asking the reason; to which Music thus
replies:—

    MUSIC. ’Tis mine to speak, thy part to hear,
    And therefore lend a willing ear;
    Much have I suffered, long opprest
    By Menalippides, that beast;
    He haled me from Parnassus’ springs,
    And plagued me with a dozen strings.
    His rage howe’er sufficed not yet,
    To make my miseries complete.
    Cinesias, that cursed Attic,
    A mere poetical pragmatic,
    Such horrid strophes in mangled verse
    Made the unharmonious stage rehearse,
    That I, tormented with the pains
    Of cruel dithyrambic strains,
    Distorted lay, that you would swear
    The right side now the left side were.
    Nor did my miseries end here;
    For Phrynis with his whirlwind brains,
    Wringing and racking all my veins,
    Ruined me quite, while nine small wires
    With harmonies twice six he tires.
    Yet might not he so much be blamed,
    From all his errors soon reclaimed;
    But then Timotheus with his freaks
    Furrowed my face, and ploughed my cheeks.

    JUSTICE. Say which of them so vile could be?

    MUSIC. Milesian Pyrrhias, that was he,
    Whose fury tortured me much more
    Than all that I have named before;
    Where’er I walk the streets alone,
    If met by him, the angry clown,
    With his twelve cat-guts strongly bound,
    He leaves me helpless on the ground.[64]

Aristophanes the comic poet, making mention of Philoxenus, complains of
his introducing lyric verses among the cyclic choruses, where he brings
in Music thus speaking:—

    He filled me with discordant measures airy,
    Wicked Hyperbolaei and Niglari;
    And to uphold the follies of his play,
    Like a lank radish bowed me every way.

Other comedians have since set forth the absurdity of those who have
been slicers and manglers of music.

31. Now that the right moulding or ruin of ingenuous manners and civil
conduct lies in a well-grounded musical education, Aristoxenus has made
apparent. For, of those that were contemporary with him, he gives an
account of Telesias the Theban, who in his youth was bred up in the
noblest excellences of music, and moreover studied the works of the
most famous lyrics, Pindar, Dionysius the Theban, Lamprus, Pratinas,
and all the rest who were accounted most eminent; who played also to
perfection upon the flute, and was not a little industrious to furnish
himself with all those other accomplishments of learning; but being
past the prime of his age, he was so bewitched with the theatre’s
new fangles and the innovations of multiplied notes, that despising
those noble precepts and that solid practice to which he had been
educated, he betook himself to Philoxenus and Timotheus, and among
those delighted chiefly in such as were most depraved with diversity
of notes and baneful innovation. And yet, when he made it his business
to make verses and labor both ways, as well in that of Pindar as that
of Philoxenus, he could have no success in the latter. And the reason
proceeded from the truth and exactness of his first education.

32. Therefore, if it be the aim of any person to practise music with
skill and judgment, let him imitate the ancient manner; let him also
adorn it with those other sciences and make philosophy his tutor,
which is sufficient to judge what is in music decent and useful. For
music being generally divided into three parts, diatonic, chromatic,
and enharmonie, it behooves one who comes to learn music to understand
poetry, which uses these three parts, and to know how to express his
poetical inventions in proper musical form.

First therefore we are to consider that all musical learning is a sort
of habituation, which does not teach the reason of her precepts at
one and the same time to the learner. Moreover, we are to understand
that to such an education there is not requisite an enumeration of
its several divisions, but every one learns by chance what either
the master or scholar, according to the authority of the one and the
liberty of the other, has most affection for. But the more prudent sort
reject this chance-medley way of learning, as the Lacedaemonians of
old, the Mantineans, and Pallenians, who, making choice either of one
single method or else but very few styles, used only that sort of music
which they deemed most proper to regulate the inclinations of youths.

33. This will be apparent, if any one shall examine every one of the
parts, and see what is the subject of their several contemplations. For
harmony takes cognizance of intervals, systems, classes of harmonious
sounds, notes, tones, and systematical transmutations. Farther than
this it goes not. And therefore it would be in vain to enquire of
harmony, whether the poet have rightly and (so to speak) musically
chosen the Dorian for the beginning, the mixed Lydian and Dorian for
the end, or the Hypophrygian and Phrygian for the middle. For the
industry of harmony reaches not to these, and it is defective in many
other things, as not understanding the force and extent of elegant
aptness and proper concinnity. Neither did ever the chromatic or
enharmonic species arrive to such force of aptitude as to discover
the nature and genius of the poem; for that is the work of the poet.
It is as plain, that the sound of the system is different from the
sound of the descant sung in the same system; which, however, does not
belong to the consideration of harmonical studies. There is the same
to be said concerning rhythms, for no rhythm can claim to itself the
force of perfect aptitude. For we call a thing apt and proper when
we consider the nature of it. The reason of this, we say, is either
a certain plain and mixed composure, or both; like the enharmonic
species of Olympus, by him set in the Phrygian mood and mixed with
the paeon epibatos, which rendered the beginning of the key naturally
elegant in what is called the nome of Minerva. For having made choice
of his key and measure, he only changed the paeon epibatos for the
trochee, which produced his enharmonic species. However, the enharmonic
species and Phrygian tone remaining together with the whole system,
the elegancy of the character was greatly altered. For that which was
called harmony in the nome of Minerva was quite another thing from that
in the introduction. He then that has both judgment as well as skill
is to be accounted the most accurate musician. For he that understands
the Dorian mood, not being able withal to discern by his judgment what
is proper to it and when it is fit to be made use of, shall never know
what he does; nay, he shall quite mistake the nature and custom of the
key. Indeed it is much questioned among the Dorians themselves, whether
the enharmonic composers be competent judges of the Dorian songs. The
same is to be said concerning the knowledge of rhythm. For he that
understands a paeon may not understand the proper use of it, though
he know the measure of which it consists. Because it is much doubted
among those that make use of paeons, whether the bare knowledge make a
man capable to determine concerning the proper use of those rhythms;
or, as others say, whether it aspire to presume so far. Therefore it
behooves that person to have two sorts of knowledge, who will undertake
to judge of what is proper and what improper; first, of the custom
and manner of elegancy for which such a composition was intended, and
next of those things of which the composition consists. And thus, that
neither the bare knowledge of harmony, nor of rhythm, nor of any other
things that singly by themselves are but a part of the whole body of
music, is sufficient to judge and determine either of the one or the
other, what has been already said may suffice to prove.

34. [Now then, there being three species into which all harmony is
divided, equal in the magnitude of systems or intervals and force
of notes and tetrachords, we find that the ancients never disputed
about any more than one; for they never troubled themselves with the
chromatic or diatonic, but differed only about the enharmonic; and
there no farther than about the great interval called the diapason. The
further subdivision indeed caused some little variance, but they nearly
all agreed that harmony itself is but one.[65]] Therefore he must never
think to be a true artist in the understanding and practice of music,
who advances no farther than the single knowledge of this or that
particular; but it behooves him to trace through all the particular
members of it, and so to be master of the whole body, by understanding
how to mix and join all the divided members. For he that understands
only harmony is confined to a single manner. Wherefore, in short, it is
requisite that the sense and understanding concur in judging the parts
of music; and that they should neither be too hasty, like those senses
which are rash and forward, nor too slow, like those which are dull
and heavy; though it may happen sometimes, through the inequality of
Nature, that the same senses may be too slow and too quick at the same
time. Which things are to be avoided by a sense and judgment that would
run an equal course.

35. For there are three things at least that at the same instant strike
the ear,—the note, the time, and the word or syllable. By the note we
judge of the harmony, by the time of the rhythm, and by the word of the
matter or subject of the song. As these proceed forth altogether, it
is requisite the sense should give them entrance at the same moment.
But this is certain, where the sense is not able to separate every one
of these and consider the effects of each apart, there it can never
apprehend what is well or what is amiss in any. First therefore let
us discourse concerning coherence. For it is necessary that coherence
accompany the discerning faculty. For judgment of good or bad is not
to be made from notes disjoined, broken time, and shattered words, but
from coherence. For there is in practice a certain commixture of parts
which commonly are not compounded. So much as to coherence.

36. We are next to consider whether the masters of music are
sufficiently capable of being judges of it. Now I aver the negative.
For it is impossible to be a perfect musician and a good judge of music
by the knowledge of those things that seem to be but parts of the whole
body, as by excellency of hand upon the instrument, or singing readily
at first sight, or exquisiteness of the ear, so far as this extends to
the understanding of harmony and time. Neither does the knowledge of
time and harmony, pulsation or elocution, or whatever else falls under
the same consideration, perfect their judgment. Now for the reasons why
a musician cannot gain a perfect judgment from any of these, we must
endeavor to make them clear. First then it must be granted that, of
things about which judgment is to be made, some are perfect and others
imperfect. Those things which are perfect are the compositions in
general, whether sung or played, and the expression of those, whether
upon the instruments or by the voice, with the rest of the same nature.
The imperfect are the things to these appertaining, and for whose sake
they are made use of. Such are the parts of expression. A second reason
may be found in poetry, with which the case is the same. For a man that
hears a consort of voices or instruments can judge whether they sing or
play in tune, and whether the language be plain or not. But every one
of these are only parts of instrumental and vocal expression; not the
end itself, but for the sake of the end. For by these and things of the
same nature shall the elegancy of elocution be judged, whether it be
proper to the poem which the performer undertakes to sing. The same is
to be said of the several passions expressed in the poetry.

37. The ancients now made principal account of the moral impression,
and therefore preferred that fashion of the antique music which was
grave and least affected. Therefore the Argives are said to have
punished deviation from the ancient music, and to have imposed a fine
upon such as first adventured to play with more than seven strings,
and to introduce the Mixolydian mood.[66] Pythagoras, that grave
philosopher, rejected the judging of music by the senses, affirming
that the virtue of music could be appreciated only by the intellect.
And therefore he did not judge of music by the ear, but by the
harmonical proportion, and thought it sufficient to fix the knowledge
of music within the compass of the diapason.

38. But our musicians nowadays have so utterly exploded the most noble
of all the moods, which the ancients greatly admired for its majesty,
that hardly any among them make the least account of enharmonic
distances. And so negligent and lazy are they grown, as to believe
the enharmonic diesis to be too contemptible to fall under the
apprehension of sense, and they therefore exterminate it out of their
compositions, deeming those to be triflers that have any esteem for
it or make use of the mood itself. For proof of which they think they
bring a most powerful argument, which rather appears to be the dulness
of their own senses; as if whatever fled their apprehensions were to
be rejected as useless and of no value. And then again they urge that
its magnitude cannot be perceived through its concord, like that of
the semitone, tone, and other distances; not understanding, that at
the same time they throw out the third, fifth, and seventh, of which
the one consists of three, the other of five, and the last of seven
dieses. And on the same principle all the intervals that are odd should
be rejected as useless, inasmuch as none of them is perceptible through
concord; and this would include all which by means of even the smallest
diesis are measured by odd numbers. Whence it necessarily follows, that
no division of the tetrachord would be of use but that which is to be
measured by all even intervals, as in the syntonic diatonic, and in the
toniaean chromatic.

39. But these opinions are not only contrary to appearance, but
repugnant one to another. For they themselves chiefly make use of
those divisions of tetrachords in which most of the intervals are
either unequal or irrational. To which purpose they always soften both
lichanos and paranete, and lower even some of the standing sounds by an
irrational interval, bringing the trite and paranete to approach them.
And especially they applaud the use of those systems in which most of
the intervals are irrational, by relaxing not only those tones which
are by nature movable, but also some which are properly fixed; as it is
plain to those that rightly understand these things.

40. Now for the advantages that accrue to men from the use of music,
the famous Homer has taught it us, introducing Achilles, in the height
of his fury toward Agamemnon, appeased by the music which he learned
from Chiron, a person of great wisdom. For thus says he:—

    Amused at ease, the god-like man they found,
    Pleased with the solemn harp’s harmonious sound.
    The well-wrought harp from conquered Thebe came;
    Of polished silver was its costly frame.
    With this he soothes his angry soul, and sings
    The immortal deeds of heroes and of kings.[67]

Learn, says Homer, from hence the true use of music. For it became
Achilles, the son of Peleus the Just, to sing the famous acts and
achievements of great and valiant men. Also, in teaching the most
proper time to make use of it, he found out a profitable and pleasing
pastime for one’s leisure hours. For Achilles, being both valiant
and active, by reason of the disgust he had taken against Agamemnon
withdrew from the war. Homer therefore thought he could not do better
than by the laudable incitements of music and poetry to inflame the
hero’s courage for those achievements which he afterwards performed.
And this he did, calling to mind the great actions of former ages.
Such was then the ancient music, and such the advantages that made it
profitable. To which end and purpose we read that Hercules, Achilles,
and many others made use of it; whose master, wisest Chiron, is
recorded to have taught not only music, but morality and physic.

41. In brief therefore, a rational person will not blame the sciences
themselves, if any one make use of them amiss, but will adjudge such a
failing to be the error of those that abuse them. So that whoever he
be that shall give his mind to the study of music in his youth, if he
meet with a musical education, proper for the forming and regulating
his inclinations, he will be sure to applaud and embrace that which is
noble and generous, and to rebuke and blame the contrary, as well in
other things as in what belongs to music. And by that means he will
become clear from all reproachful actions, for now having reaped the
noblest fruit of music, he may be of great use, not only to himself
but to the commonwealth; while music teaches him to abstain from
every thing indecent both in word and deed, and to observe decorum,
temperance, and regularity.

42. Now that those cities which were governed by the best laws took
care always of a generous education in music, many testimonies may be
produced. But for us it shall suffice to have instanced Terpander, who
appeased a sedition among the Lacedaemonians, and Thaletas the Cretan,
of whom Pratinas writes that, being sent for by the Lacedaemonians by
advice of the oracle, he freed the city from a raging pestilence. Homer
tells that the Grecians stopped the fury of another noisome pestilence
by the power and charms of the same noble science:—

    With sacred hymns and songs that sweetly please,
    The Grecian youth all day the Gods appease.
    Their lofty paeans bright Apollo hears,
    And still the charming sounds delight his ears.

These verses, most excellent master, I thought requisite to add as
the finishing stone to my musical discourse, which were by you cited
before[68] to show the force of harmony. For indeed the chiefest and
sublimest end of music is the graceful return of our thanks to the
Gods, and the next is to purify and bring our minds to a sober and
harmonious temper. Thus, said Soterichus, most excellent master, I have
given you what may be called an encyclic discourse of music.

43. Nor was Soterichus a little admired for what he had spoken, as
one that both by his countenance and speech had shown his zeal and
affection for that noble science. After all, said Onesicrates, I must
needs applaud this in both of you, that you have kept within your own
spheres and observed your proper limits. For Lysias, not insisting any
further, undertook only to show us what was necessary to the making a
good hand, as being an excellent performer himself. But Soterichus has
feasted us with a discovery of the benefit, the theory, the force, and
right end of music. But one thing I think they have willingly left for
me to say; for I cannot think them guilty of so much bashfulness that
they should be ashamed to bring music into banquets, where certainly,
if anywhere, it cannot but be very useful, which Homer also confirms to
be true:—

    Song and the merry dance, the joy of feasts.[69]

Not that I would have any one believe from these words, that Homer
thought music useful only for pleasure and delight, there being a
profounder meaning concealed in the verse. For he brought in music to
be present at the banquets and revels of the ancients, as believing
it then to be of greatest use and advantage to repel and mitigate the
inflaming power of the wine. To which our Aristoxenus agrees, who
alleges that music was introduced at banquets for this reason, that as
wine intemperately drunk weakens both the body and mind, so music by
its harmonious order and symmetry assuages and reduces them to their
former constitution. And therefore it was that Homer reports that the
ancients made use of music at their solemn festivals.

44. But for all this, my most honored friends, methinks you have
forgot the chiefest thing of all, and that which renders music most
majestic. For Pythagoras, Archytas, Plato, and many others of the
ancient philosophers, were of opinion, that there could be no motion of
the world or rolling of the spheres without the assistance of music,
since the Supreme Deity created all things harmoniously. But it would
be unseasonable now to enter upon such a discourse, especially at this
time, when it would be absurd for Music to transgress her highest and
most musical office, which is to give the laws and limits of time and
measure to all things. Therefore after he had sung a paean, and offered
to Saturn and his offspring, with all the other Gods and the Muses, he
dismissed the company.




OF THE TRANQUILLITY OF THE MIND.


PLUTARCH WISHETH ALL HEALTH TO HIS PACCIUS.

1. It was late before I received your letter, wherein you make it your
request that I would write something to you concerning the tranquillity
of the mind, and of those things in the Timaeus which require a more
perspicuous interpretation. At the same time a very urgent occasion
called upon our common friend and companion Eros to sail directly to
Rome; that which quickened him to a greater expedition was a dispatch
he received from Fundanus, that best of men, who, as his custom is,
always enjoins the making haste. Therefore, wanting full leisure to
consummate those things justly which you requested, and being on the
other side unwilling to send one from me to your dear self empty
handed, I have transcribed my commonplace book, and hastily put
together those collections which I had by me concerning this subject;
for I thought you a man that did not look after flourishes of style
and the affected elegance of language, but only required what was
instructive in its nature and useful to us in the conduct of our
lives. And I congratulate that bravery of temper in you, that though
you are admitted into the confidence of princes, and have obtained so
great a vogue of eloquence at the bar that no man hath exceeded you,
you have not, like the tragic Merops, suffered yourself to be puffed
up with the applause of the multitude, and transported beyond those
bounds which are prescribed to our passions; but you call to mind
that which you have so often heard, that a rich slipper will not cure
the gout, a diamond ring a whitlow, nor will an imperial diadem ease
the headache. For what advantage is there in honor, riches, or an
interest at court, to remove all perturbations of mind and procure an
equal tenor of life, if we do not use them with decency when they are
present to our enjoyment, and if we are continually afflicted by their
loss when we are deprived of them? And what is this but the province
of reason, when the sensual part of us grows turbulent and makes
excursions, to check its sallies and bring it again within the limits
it hath transgressed, that it may not be carried away and so perverted
with the gay appearances of things. For as Xenophon gives advice, we
ought to remember the Gods and pay them particular devotions when our
affairs are prosperous, that so when an exigency presseth us we may
more confidently invoke them, now we have conciliated their favor and
made them our friends. So wise men always ruminate upon those arguments
which have any efficacy against the troubles of the mind before their
calamities happen, that so the remedies being long prepared, they may
acquire energy, and work with a more powerful operation. For as angry
dogs are exasperated by every one’s rating them, and are flattered
to be quiet only by his voice to which they are accustomed; so it is
not easy to pacify the brutish affections of the soul but by familiar
reasons, and such as are used to be administered in such inward
distempers.

2. Besides, he that affirmed that whosoever would enjoy tranquillity of
mind must disengage himself from all private and public concerns, would
make us pay dear for our tranquillity by buying it with idleness; as if
he should prescribe thus to a sick man:—

    Lie still, poor wretch, and keep thy bed.[70]

Now stupefaction is a bad remedy for desperate pain in the body, and
verily he would be no better physician for the soul who should order
idleness, softness, and neglect of friends, kinsfolk, and country, in
order to remove its trouble and grief. It is likewise a false position
that those live most contentedly who have the least to do; for then by
this rule women should be of more sedate dispositions than men, since
they only sit at home and mind their domestic affairs. Whereas in fact,
as Hesiod expresseth it,—

    The virgins’ tender limbs are kept from cold;
    Not the least wind to touch them is so bold;[71]

but nevertheless we see that grief and troubles and discontentments,
arising from jealousy or superstition or vain opinions, flow as it were
with a torrent into the apartments of the females. And though Laertes
lived twenty years in the fields secluded from the world, and

    Only a toothless hag did make his bed,
    Draw him his drink, and did his table spread,[72]

though he forsook his house and country, and fled from a kingdom, yet
grief with his sloth and sadness still kept him company. There are some
to whom idleness hath been an affliction; as for instance,—

    But raging still, amidst his navy sat
    The stern Achilles, steadfast in his hate;
    Nor mix’d in combat, nor in council join’d;
    But wasting cares lay heavy on his mind:
    In his black thoughts revenge and slaughter roll,
    And scenes of blood rise dreadful in his soul.[73]

And he himself complains of it, being mightily disturbed, after this
manner:—

    I live an idle burden to the ground.[74]

Hence it is that Epicurus adviseth those who aspire to glory not to
stagnate in their ambition, but be in perpetual motion, and so obey
the dictates of their genius in managing the commonwealth; because they
would be more tormented and would suffer greater damages by idleness,
if they were disappointed of that they were in the eager pursuit of.
But the philosopher is absurd in this, that he doth not excite men who
have abilities to qualify themselves for charges in the government,
but only those who are of a restless and unquiet disposition. For the
tranquillity and perturbation of the mind are not to be measured by the
fewness or multitude of our actions, but by their beauty or turpitude;
since the omission of what is good is no less troublesome than the
commission of evil.

3. As for those who think there is one positive state of life, which
is always serene,—some fancying it to be of the husbandmen, others of
those which are unmarried, and some of kings,—Menander clearly shows
them their error in these verses:—

    I thought those men, my Phania, always best,
    Who take no money up at interest;
    Who disengaged from business spend the day,
    And in complaints don’t sigh the night away,
    Who, troubled, lamentable groans don’t fetch,
    Thus breathing out, Ah! miserable wretch!
    Those whom despairing thoughts don’t waking keep,
    But without startings sweetly take their sleep.

He goes on and observes to us, that the same lot of misfortune falls to
the rich as well as the poor:—

    These neighbors slender confines do divide,—
    Sorrow and human life are still allied.
    It the luxurious liver doth infest,
    And robs the man of honor of his rest;
    In stricter ties doth with the poor engage,
    With him grows old to a decrepit age.

But as timorous and raw sailors in a boat, when they grow sick with the
working of the waves, think they shall overcome their pukings if they
go on board of a ship, but there being equally out of order, go into a
galley, but are therefore never the better, because they carry their
nauseousness and fear along with them; so the several changes of life
do only shift and not wholly extirpate the causes of our trouble. And
these are only our want of experience, the weakness of our judgment,
and a certain impotence of mind which hinders us from making a right
use of what we enjoy. The rich man is subject to this uneasiness of
humor as well as the poor; the bachelor as well as the man in wedlock.
This makes the pleader withdraw from the bar, and then his retirement
is altogether as irksome. And this infuseth a desire into others to be
presented at court; and when they come there, they presently grow weary
of the life.

    Poor men when sick do peevishly complain,
    The sense of want doth aggravate their pain.[75]

For then the wife grows officious in her attendance, the physician
himself is a disease, and the bed is not made easy enough to his mind;
even his friend importunes him with his visits:—

    He doth molest him when he first doth come,
    And when he goes away he’s troublesome,

as Ion expresseth it. But when the heat of the disease is over and the
former temperature of the body is restored, then health returns, and
brings with it all those pleasant images which sickness chased away; so
that he that yesterday refused eggs and delicate cakes and the finest
manchets will now snap eagerly at a piece of household bread, with an
olive and a few water-cresses.

4. So reason makes all sorts of life easy, and every change pleasant.
Alexander wept when he heard from Anaxarchus that there was an infinite
number of worlds, and his friends asking him if any accident had
befallen him, he returns this answer: Do not you think it a matter
worthy of lamentation, that, when there is such a vast multitude of
them, we have not yet conquered one? But Crates with only his scrip
and tattered cloak laughed out his life jocosely, as if he had been
always at a festival. The great power and command of Agamemnon gave him
an equal disturbance:—

    Look upon Agamemnon, Atreus’s son,
    What mighty loads of trouble he hath on.
    He is distracted with perpetual care;
    Jove that inflicts it gives him strength to bear.[76]

Diogenes, when he was exposed to sale in the market and was commanded
to stand up, not only refused to do it, but ridiculed the auctioneer,
with this piece of raillery: What! if you were selling a fish, would
you bid it rise up? Socrates was a philosopher in the prison, and
discoursed with his friends, though he was fettered. But Phaeton, when
he climbed up into heaven, thought himself unhappy there, because
nobody would give him his father’s chariot and the horses of the sun.
As therefore the shoe is twisted to the shape of the foot and not in
the opposite way, so do the affections of the mind render the life
conformable to themselves. For it is not custom, as one observed, which
makes even the best life pleasant to those who choose it, but it must
be prudence in conjunction with it, which makes it not only the best
for its kind, but sweetest in its enjoyment. The fountain therefore of
tranquillity being in ourselves, let us cleanse it from all impurity
and make its streams limpid, that all external accidents, by being made
familiar, may be no longer grievous to us, since we shall know how to
use them well.

    Let not these things thy least concern engage;
    For though thou fret, they will not mind thy rage.
    Him only good and happy we may call
    Who rightly useth what doth him befall.[77]

5. For Plato compared our life to a game at dice, where we ought to
throw for what is most commodious for us, but when we have thrown, to
make the best of our casts. We cannot make what chances we please turn
up, if we play fair; this lies out of our power. That which is within
our power, and is our duty if we are wise, is to accept patiently what
Fortune shall allot us, and so to adjust things in their proper places,
that what is our own may be disposed of to the best advantage, and what
hath happened against our will may offend us as little as possible.
But as to men who live without measures and with no prudence, like
those whose constitution is so sickly and infirm that they are equally
impatient both of heats and colds, prosperity exalts them above their
temper, and adversity dejects them beneath it; indeed each fortune
disturbs them, or rather they raise up storms to themselves in either,
and they are especially querulous under good circumstances. Theodorus,
who was called the Atheist, was used to say, that he reached out his
instructions with the right hand, and his auditors received them with
their left hands. So men of no education, when Fortune would even be
complaisant to them, are yet so awkward in their observance, that they
take her addresses on the wrong side. On the contrary, men that are
wise, as the bees draw honey from the thyme, which is a most unsavory
and dry herb, extract something that is convenient and useful even from
the most bitter afflictions.

6. This therefore let us learn and have inculcated upon us; like the
man who threw a stone at a bitch, but hit his step-mother, on which
he exclaimed, Not so bad. So we may often turn the direction of what
Fortune obtrudes upon us contrary to our desires. Diogenes was driven
into banishment, but it was “not so bad” for him; for of an exile he
became a philosopher. Zeno of Citium, when he heard that the only ship
he had left was sunk by an unmerciful tempest, with all the rich cargo
that was in her, brake out into this exclamation: Fortune, I applaud
thy contrivance, who by this means hast reduced me to a threadbare
cloak and the piazza of the Stoics. What hinders then but that
these examples should be the patterns of our imitation? Thou stoodst
candidate for a place in the government, and wast baulked in thy hopes;
consider that thou wilt live at ease in thy own country, following thy
own affairs. Thou wast ambitious to be the confidant of some great
person, and sufferedst a repulse; thou wilt gain thus much by it, that
thou wilt be free from danger and disembarrassed from business. Again,
hast thou managed any affairs full of intricacy and trouble? Hot water
doth not so much cherish the soft members of the body, as Pindar[78]
expresseth it, as glory and honor joined with power sweeten all our
toils and make labor easy. Hast thou met with any unfortunate success?
Hath calumny bit, or envy hissed at thee? There is yet a prosperous
gale, which sits fair to convey thee to the port of the Muses and
land thee at the Academy. This Plato did, after he made shipwreck of
the friendship of Diogenes. And indeed it highly conduceth to the
tranquillity of the mind, to look back upon illustrious men and see
with what temper they have borne their calamities. For instance, doth
it trouble thee that thou wantest children? Consider that kings of the
Romans have died without them,—had kingdoms to leave, but no heirs.
Doth poverty and low condition afflict thee? It is put to thy option,
wouldst thou not rather of all the Boeotians be Epaminondas, and of
all the Romans Fabricius? But thy bed is violated, and thy wife is an
adulteress. Didst thou never read this inscription at Delphi?—

    Here am I set by Agis’ royal hand,
    Who both the earth and ocean did command.

And yet did the report never arrive thee that Alcibiades debauched this
king’s wife, Timaea?—and that she herself whispered archly to her
maids, that the child was not the genuine offspring of her husband,
but a young Alcibiades? Yet this did not obstruct the glory of the
man; for, notwithstanding his being a cuckold, he was the greatest and
most famous among the Greeks. Nor did the dissolute manners of his
daughter hinder Stilpo from enlivening his humor and being the jolliest
philosopher of his time; for when Metrocles upbraided him with it, he
asked him whether he was the offender or his mad girl. He answered,
that it was her sin but his misfortune. To which Stilpo replied: But
are not sins lapses? No doubt of it, saith Metrocles. And is not that
properly called lapse, when we fall off from the attainment of those
things we were in the pursuit of? He could not deny it. He pursued
him further with this question: And are not these unlucky traverses
misfortunes to them who are thus disappointed? Thus by a pleasant and
philosophical reasoning he turned the discourse, and showed the Cynic
that his calumny was idle and he barked in vain.

7. But there are some whom not only the evil dispositions of their
friends and domestics, but those of their enemies, give disturbance to.
For a proneness to speak evil of another, anger, envy, ill-nature, a
jealous and perverse temper, are the pests of those who are infected
with them. And these serve only to trouble and exasperate fools, like
the brawls of scolding neighbors, the peevishness of our acquaintance,
and the iniquity or want of qualifications in those who administer
the government. But thou seemest to me to be especially concerned
with affairs of this nature; for, like the physicians mentioned by
Sophocles,—

    Who bitter choler cleanse and scour
    With drugs as bitter and as sour,—

thou dost let other men’s enormities sour thy blood; which is highly
irrational. For, even in matters of private management, thou dost
not always employ men of wit and address, which are the most proper
for such an execution, but sometimes those of rough and crooked
dispositions; and to animadvert upon them for every peccadillo thou
must not think belongs to thee, nor is it easy in the performance.
But if thou makest that use of them, as chirurgeons do of forceps to
pull out teeth or ligatures to bind wounds, and so appear cheerful
whatever falls out, the satisfaction of thy mind will delight thee
more than the concern at other men’s pravity and malicious humor will
disturb thee. Otherwise, as dogs bark at all persons indifferently,
so, if thou persecutest everybody that offends thee, thou wilt bring
the matter to this pass by thy imprudence, that all things will flow
down into this imbecility of thy mind, as a place void and capable of
receiving them, and at last thou wilt be filled with nothing but other
men’s miscarriages. For if some of the philosophers inveigh against
compassion which others’ calamities affect us with, as a soft affection
(saying, that we ought to give real assistance to those in distress,
and not to be dejected or sympathize with them), and if—which is a
thing of higher moment—they discard all sadness and uneasiness when
the sense of a vice or a disease is upon us, saying that we ought
to cure the indisposition without being grieved; is it not highly
consonant to reason, that we should not storm or fret, if those we
have to do with are not so wise and honest as they should be? Let us
consider the thing truly, my Paccius, lest, whilst we find fault with
others, we prove partial in our own respect through inadvertency,
and lest our censuring their failings may proceed not so much from a
hatred of their vices as from love of ourselves. We should not have
our passions moved at every provocation, nor let our desires grow
exorbitant beyond what is just; for these little aversions of our
temper engender suspicions, and infuse moroseness into us, which makes
us surly to those who precluded the way to our ambition, or who made us
fall into those disastrous events we would willingly have shunned. But
he that hath a smoothness in his nature and a talent of moderation can
transact and converse with mankind easily and with mildness.

8. Let us recapitulate therefore what we have said. When we are in
a fever, every thing that we taste is not only unsavory but bitter;
but when we see others relish it without any disgust, we do not then
lay the blame either upon the meat or drink, but conclude that only
ourselves and the disease are in fault. In like manner we shall cease
to bear things impatiently, if we see others enjoy them with alacrity
and humor. And this likewise is a great promoter of the tranquillity
of the mind, if, amongst those ill successes which carry a dismal
appearance, we look upon other events which have a more beautiful
aspect, and so blend them together that we may overcome the bad by the
mixture of the good. But although, when our eyes are dazzled with too
intense a splendor, we refresh our sight by viewing something that
is green and florid, yet we fix the optics of our minds upon doleful
objects, and compel them to dwell upon the recital of our miseries,
plucking them perforce, as it were, from the consideration of what is
better. And here we may insert that which was said to a pragmatical
fellow, handsomely enough:—

    Why so quick sighted others’ faults to find,
    But to thy own so partially art blind?
    ’Tis malice that exasperates thy mind.

But why, my friend, art thou so acute to discern even thy own
misfortunes, and so industrious to renew them and set them in thy
sight, that they may be the more conspicuous, while thou never turnest
thy consideration to those good things which are present with thee and
thou dost enjoy? But as cupping-glasses draw the impurest blood out
of the body, so thou dost extract the quintessence of infelicity to
afflict thyself. In this thou art no better than the Chian merchant,
who, while he sold abundance of his best and most generous wine to
others, called for some that was pricked and vapid to taste at supper;
and one of his servants asking another what he left his master doing,
he made this answer, that he was calling for bad when the good was
by him. For most men leave the pleasant and delectable things behind
them, and run with haste to embrace those which are not only difficult
but intolerable. Aristippus was not of this number, for he knew, even
to the niceness of a grain, to put prosperous against adverse fortune
into the scale, that the one might outweigh the other. Therefore when
he lost a noble farm, he asked one of his dissembled friends, who
pretended to be sorry, not only with regret but impatience, for his
mishap: Thou hast but one piece of land, but have I not three farms yet
remaining? He assenting to the truth of it: Why then, saith he, should
I not rather lament your misfortune, since it is the raving only of a
mad man to be concerned at what is lost, and not rather rejoice in what
is left? Thus, as children, if you rob them of one of their play-games,
will throw away the rest, and cry and scream; so, if Fortune infest us
only in one part, we grow fearful and abandon ourselves wholly to her
attacks.

9. But somebody will object to me, What is it that we have? Rather,
What is it that we have not? One is honorable, the other is master
of a family; this man hath a good wife, the other a faithful friend.
Antipater of Tarsus, when he was upon his death-bed and reckoning up
all the good events which had befallen him, would not omit a prosperous
voyage which he had when he sailed from Cilicia to Athens. Even the
trite and common blessings are not to be despised, but ought to take up
a room in our deliberations. We should rejoice that we live, and are
in health, and see the sun; that there are no wars nor seditions in
our country; that the earth yields to cultivation, and that the sea is
open to our traffic; that we can talk, be silent, do business, and be
at leisure, when we please. They will afford us greater tranquillity
of mind present, if we form some just ideas of them when they are
absent; if we often call to our remembrance how solicitous the sick man
is after health, how acceptable peace is to put out a war, and what a
courtesy it will do us to gain credit and acquire friends in a city of
note, where we are strangers and unknown; and contrariwise, how great a
grief it is to forego these things when we once have them. For surely
a thing does not become great and precious when we have lost it, while
it is of no account so long as we possess it; for the value of a thing
cannot be increased by its loss. But we ought not to take pains to
acquire things as being of great value, and to be in fear and trembling
lest we may lose them, as if they were precious, and then all the time
they are safe in our possession, to neglect them as if they were of no
importance. But we are so to use them that we may reap satisfaction
and gain a solid pleasure from them, that so we may be the better
enabled to endure their loss with evenness of temper. But most men, as
Arcesilaus observed, think they must be critics upon other men’s poems,
survey their pictures with a curious eye, and examine their statues
with all the delicacy of sculpture, but in the meanwhile transiently
pass over their own lives, though there be some things in them which
will not only detain but please their consideration. But they will
not restrain the prospect to themselves, but are perpetually looking
abroad, and so become servile admirers of other men’s fortune and
reputation; as adulterers are always gloating upon other men’s wives
and contemning their own.

10. Besides, this is a thing highly conducing to the tranquillity of
the mind, for a man chiefly to consider himself and his own affairs.
But if this always cannot take place, he should not make comparisons
with men of a superior condition to himself; though this is the
epidemical frenzy of the vulgar. As for instance, slaves who lie in
fetters applaud their good fortune whose shackles are off; those who
are loosed from their bonds would be free men by manumission; these
again aspire to be citizens; the citizen would be rich; the wealthy
man would be a governor of a province; the haughty governor would be
a king, and the king a God, hardly resting content unless he can hurl
thunderbolts and dart lightning. So all are eager for what is above
them, and are never content with what they have.

    The wealth of golden Gyges has no delight for me.

Likewise,—

    No emulation doth my spirits fire,
    The actions of the Gods I don’t admire.
    I would not, to be great, a tyrant be;
    The least appearances I would not see.

But one of Thasis, another of Chios, one of Galatia, and a fourth of
Bithynia, not contenting themselves with the rank they enjoyed amongst
their fellow-citizens, where they had honor and commands, complain
that they have not foreign characters and are not made patricians of
Rome; and if they attain that dignity, that they are not praetors; and
if they arrive even to that degree, they still think themselves ill
dealt with that they are not consuls; and when promoted to the fasces,
that they were declared the second, and not the first. And what is all
this but ungratefully accusing Fortune, and industriously picking out
occasions to punish and torment ourselves? But he that is in his right
senses and wise for his own advantage, out of those many millions which
the sun looks upon,

    Who of the products of the earth do eat,[79]

if he sees any one in the mighty throng who is more rich and honorable
than himself, he is neither dejected in his mind nor countenance, nor
doth he pensively sit down deploring his unhappiness, but he walks
abroad publicly with an honest assurance. He celebrates his own good
genius, and boasts of his good fortune in that it is happier than a
thousand other men’s which are in the world. In the Olympic games you
cannot gain the victory choosing your antagonist. But in human life
affairs allow thee to excel many and to bear thyself aloft, and to
be envied rather than envious; unless indeed thou dost match thyself
unequally with a Briareus or a Hercules. Therefore, when thou art
surprised into a false admiration of him who is carried in his sedan,
cast thy eyes downward upon the slaves who support his luxury. When
thou art wondering at the greatness of Xerxes crossing the Hellespont,
consider those wretches who are digging through Mount Athos, who are
urged to their labor with blows, blood being mixed with their sweat;
call to mind that they had their ears and noses cut off, because the
bridge was broken by the violence of the waves; think upon that secret
reflection they have, and how happy they would esteem thy life and
condition. Socrates hearing one of his friends crying out, How dear
things are sold in this city! the wine of Chios costs a mina, the
purple fish three, and a half pint of honey five drachms,—he brought
him to the meal-shop, and showed him that half a peck of flour was
sold for a penny. ’Tis a cheap city, said he. Then he brought him to
the oil-man’s, and told him he might have a quart of olives for two
farthings. At last he went to the salesman’s, and convinced him that
the purchase of a sleeveless jerkin was only ten drachms. ’Tis a cheap
city, he repeated. So, when we hear others declare that our condition
is afflicted because we are not consuls and in eminent command, let
us then look upon ourselves as living not only in a bare happiness
but splendor, in that we do not beg our bread, and are not forced to
subsist by carrying of burthens or by flattery.

11. But such is our folly, that we accustom ourselves rather to live
for other men’s sakes than our own; and our dispositions are so prone
to upbraidings and to be tainted with envy, that the grief we conceive
at others’ prosperity lessens the joy we ought to take in our own. But
to cure thee of this extravagant emulation, look not upon the outside
of these applauded men, which is so gay and brilliant, but draw the
gaudy curtain and carry thy eyes inward, and thou shalt find most
gnawing disquiets to be dissembled under these false appearances. When
the renowned Pittacus, who got him so great a name for his fortitude,
wisdom, and justice, was entertaining his friends at a noble banquet,
and his spouse in an angry humor came and overturned the table; his
guests being extremely disturbed at it, he told them: Every one of you
hath his particular plague, and my wife is mine; and he is very happy
who hath this only.

    The pleading lawyer’s happy at the bar;
    But the scene opening shows a civil war.
    For the good man hath a domestic strife,
    He’s slave to that imperious creature, wife.
    Scolding without doors doth to him belong,
    But she within them doth claim all the tongue.
    Pecked by his female tyrant him I see,
    Whilst from this grievance I myself am free.

These are the secret stings which are inseparable from honor,
riches, and dominion, and which are unknown to the vulgar, because a
counterfeit lustre dazzleth their sight.

    All pleasant things Atrides doth adorn;
    The merry genius smiled when he was born.[80]

And they compute this happiness from his great stores of ammunition,
his variety of managed horses, and his battalions of disciplined men.
But an inward voice of sorrow seems to silence all this ostentation
with mournful accents:—

    Jove in a deep affliction did him plunge.[81]

Observe this likewise:—

    Old man, I reverence thy aged head,
    Who to a mighty length hast spun thy thread;
    Safe from all dangers, to the grave goest down
    Ingloriously, because thou art unknown.[82]

Such expostulations as these with thyself will serve to dispel this
querulous humor, which makes thee fondly applaud other people’s
conditions and depreciate thy own.

12. This likewise greatly obstructs the tranquillity of the mind,
that our desires are immoderate and not suited to our abilities of
attainment, which, like sails beyond the proportion of the vessel,
help only to overset it; so that, being blown up with extravagant
expectations, if ill success frustrates our attempts, we presently
curse our stars and accuse Fortune, when we ought rather to lay the
blame upon our enterprising folly. For we do not reckon him unfortunate
who will shoot with a ploughshare, and let slip an ox at a hare. Nor
is he born under an unlucky influence who cannot catch a buck with a
sling or drag-net; for it was the weakness and perverseness of his mind
which inflamed him on to impossible things. The partial love of himself
is chiefly in fault, which infuseth a vicious inclination to arrogate,
and an insatiable ambition to attempt every thing. For they are not
content with the affluence of riches and the accomplishments of the
mind, that they are robust, have a complaisance of humor and strength
of brain for company, that they are privadoes to princes and governors
of cities, unless they have dogs of great sagacity and swiftness,
horses of a generous strain, nay, unless their quails and cocks are
better than other men’s. Old Dionysius, not being satisfied that he
was the greatest potentate of his time, grew angry, even to a frenzy,
that Philoxenus the poet exceeded him in the sweetness of his voice,
and Plato in the subtleties of disputation; therefore he condemned one
to the quarries, and sold the other into Aegina. But Alexander was of
another temper; for when Criso the famous runner contended with him
for swiftness, and seemed to be designedly lagging behind and yielding
the race, he was in a great rage with him. And Achilles in Homer spake
very well, when he said:—

    None of the Greeks for courage me excel;
    Let others have the praise of speaking well.[83]

When Megabyzus the Persian came into the shop of Apelles, and began
to ask some impertinent questions concerning his art, the famous
painter checked him into silence with this reprimand: As long as thou
didst hold thy peace, thou didst appear to be a man of condition, and
I paid a deference to the eclat of thy purple and the lustre of thy
gold; but now, since thou art frivolous, thou exposest thyself to the
laughter even of my boys that mix the colors. Some think the Stoics
very childish, when they hear them affirm that the wise man must not
only deserve that appellation for his prudence, be of exact justice
and great fortitude, but must likewise have all the flowers of a
rhetorician and the conduct of a general, must have the elegancies of
a poet, be very wealthy, and called a king; but these good men claim
all these titles for themselves, and if they do not receive them, they
grow peevish and are presently out of temper. But the qualifications of
the Gods themselves are different; for the one is styled the deity of
war, another of the oracle, a third of traffic; and Jupiter makes Venus
preside over marriages and be goddess of the nuptial bed, the delicacy
of her sex being unapt for martial affairs.

13. And there are some things which carry a contrariety in their
nature, and cannot be consistent. As for instance, the study of the
mathematics and practice in oratory are exercises which require a
great leisure and freedom from other concerns; but the intrigues of
politics cannot be managed, and the favor of princes cannot be attained
or cultivated, without severe application and being involved in
affairs of high moment. Then the indulging ourselves to drink wine
and eat flesh makes the body strong, but it effeminates the mind.
Industry to acquire and care to preserve our wealth do infinitely
increase it; but the contempt of riches is the best refreshment in our
philosophic journey. Hence it is very manifest that there is a wide
difference in things, and that we ought to obey the inscription of the
Pythian oracle, that every man should know himself, that he should not
constrain his genius but leave it to its own propensions, and then that
he should apply himself to that to which he is most adapted, and not do
violence to Nature by dragging her perforce to this or that course of
life.

    With generous provender they the horse do feed,
    That he may win the race with strength and speed.
    The mighty ox is fitted to the yoke,
    And by his toil the fertile clods are broke.
    The dolphin, when a ship he doth espy,
    Straight the good-natured fish his fins doth ply;
    By the ship’s motion he his own doth guide,
    And lovingly swims constant to her side.
    And if you’d apprehend the foaming boar,
    The monster by a mastiff must be tore.[84]

But he is stupid in his wishes who takes it amiss that he is not a lion,

    Who with a proud insulting air doth tread,
    Rough as the mountains where he first was bred;[85]

or that he is not a Malta-shock, delicately brought up in the lap of a
fond widow. He is not a jot more rational who would be an Empedocles,
a Plato, or a Democritus, and write about the universe and the reality
of things therein, and at the same time would sleep by the dry side of
an old woman, because she is rich, as Euphorion did; or be admitted to
debauch with Alexander amongst his club of drunkards, as Medius was;
or be concerned that he is not in as high a vogue of admiration as
Ismenias was for his riches and Epaminondas for his virtue. For those
who run races do not think they have injury done them if they are
not crowned with those garlands which are due to the wrestlers, but
they are rather transported with joy at their own rewards. “Sparta has
fallen to thy lot; honor and adorn her.” Solon hath expressed himself
to this purpose:—

    Virtue for sordid wealth shall not be sold;
    It’s beauty far outshines the miser’s gold.
    This without Fortune’s shocks doth still endure;
    But that’s possession is insecure.[86]

And Strato, who wrote of physics, when he heard that Menedemus had
a great number of scholars, asked: What wonder is it, if more come
to wash than to be anointed? And Aristotle, writing to Antipater,
declared, that Alexander was not the only one who ought to think
highly of himself because his dominion extended over many subjects,
since they had a right to think as well of themselves who entertained
becoming sentiments of the Gods. So that, by having a just opinion of
our own excellences, we shall be disturbed with the less envy against
those of other men. But now, although in other cases we do not expect
figs from the vine nor grapes from the olive-tree, yet, if we have not
the complicated titles of being rich and learned, philosophers in the
schools and commanders in the field, if we cannot flatter, and have the
facetious liberty to speak what we please, nay, if we are not counted
parsimonious and splendid in our expenses at the same time, we grow
uneasy to ourselves, and despise our life as maimed and imperfect.
Besides, Nature seems to instruct us herself; for, as she ministers
different sorts of food to her animals, and hath endowed them with
diversity of appetites,—some to eat flesh, others to pick up seed, and
others to dig up roots for their nourishment,—so she hath bestowed
upon her rational creatures various sorts of accommodations to sustain
their being. The shepherd hath one distinct from the ploughman; the
fowler hath another peculiar to himself; and the fourth lives by the
sea. So that in common equity we ought to labor in that vocation which
is appointed and most commodious for us, and let alone the rest; and so
not to prove that Hesiod fell short of the truth when he spake after
this manner:—

    The potter hates another of the trade,
    If by his hands a finer dish is made;
    The smith his brother smudge with scorn doth treat,
    If he his iron strikes with brisker heat.[87]

And this emulation is not confined to mechanics and those who follow
the same occupations; but the rich man envies the learned. He that hath
a bright reputation envies the miser’s guineas, and the pettifogger
thinks he is outdone in talking by the sophister. Nay, by Heaven, he
that is born free sottishly admires the servile attendance of him who
is of the household to a king; and the man that hath patrician blood
in his veins calls the comedian happy who acts his part gracefully
and with humor, and applauds even the mimic who pleaseth with farce
and scaramouchy gestures; thus by a false estimate of happiness they
disturb and perplex themselves.

14. Now that every man hath a storehouse of trouble and contentment
in his own bosom, and that the vessels which contain good and evil
are not placed at Jupiter’s threshold,[88] but in the recesses of the
mind, the variety of our passions is an abundant demonstration. The
fool doth not discern, and consequently cannot mind, the good that is
obvious to him, for his thoughts are still intent upon the future; but
the prudent man retrieves things that were lost out of their oblivion,
by strength of recollection renders them perspicuous, and enjoys them
as if they were present. Happiness having only a few coy minutes to be
courted in, the man that hath no intellect neglects this opportunity,
and so it slides away from his sense and no more belongs to him. But
like him that is painted in hell twisting a rope, and who lets the ass
that is by him devour all the laborious textures as fast as he makes
them, so most men have such a lethargy of forgetfulness upon them,
that they lose the remembrance of all great actions, and no more call
to mind their pleasant intervals of leisure and repose. The relish
of their former banquets is grown insipid, and delight hath left no
piquant impression upon their palates; by this means they break as it
were the continuity of life, and destroy the union of present things to
the past; and dividing yesterday from to-day and to-day from to-morrow,
they utterly efface all events, as if they had never been. For, as
those who are dogmatical in the schools, and deny the augmentation of
bodies by reason of the perpetual flux of all substance, do strip us
out of ourselves and make no man to be the same to-day that he was
yesterday; so those who bury all things that have preceded them in
oblivion, who lose all the notices of former times and let them all be
shattered carelessly out of their minds, do every day make themselves
void and empty; and they become utterly dependent on the morrow, as if
those things which happened last year and yesterday and the day before
were not to affect their cognizance and be occurrences worthy their
observation.

15. This is a great impediment to the tranquillity of the mind. But
that which is its more sensible disturbance is this, that as flies
upon a mirror easily slide down the smooth and polished parts of it,
but stick to those which are rugged and uneven and fall into its
flaws, so men let what is cheerful and pleasant flow from them, and
dwell only upon sad melancholy remembrances. Nay, as those of Olynthus
carry beetles into a certain place, which from the destruction of them
is called their slaughter-house, where, all passages being stopped
against their escape, they are killed by the weariness of perpetual
flying about; so when men have once fallen upon the memory of their
former sorrows, no consolation can take them off from the mournful
theme. But as in a landscape we draw the most beautiful colors, so
we ought to fill the prospect of our minds with the most agreeable
and sprightly images; that, if we cannot utterly abolish those which
are dark and unpleasant, we may at least obscure them by more gay and
lively representations. For as the strings of a lute or bow, so is the
harmony of the world alternately tightened and relaxed by vicissitude
and change; and in human affairs there is nothing that is unmixed,
nothing that is unallied. But as in music there are some sounds which
are flat and some sharp, and in grammar some letters that are vocal and
some mute, but neither the man of concord nor syntax doth industriously
decline one sort, but with the fineness of his art mixeth them
together; so in things in this world which carry a direct opposition in
their nature one to another,—when, as Euripides expresseth it,

    The good things with the evil still are joined,
    And in strict union mutually combined;
    The chequered work doth beautiful appear,
    For what is sweet allays the more severe;—

yet we ought not to be discouraged or have any despondencies. But in
this case let us imitate the musicians, who drown the harsh cadences
with others that more caress the ear; so, by tempering our adverse
fortune with what is more prosperous, let us render our lives pleasant
and of an equal tone. For that is not true which Menander tells us:—

    Soon as an infant doth salute the day,
    A genius his first cryings doth obey,
    And to his charge comes hastily away;
    The daemon doth assist the tender lad,
    Shows him what’s good, and saves him from the bad.

But the opinion of Empedocles deserves more our approbation, who
saith that, as soon as any one is born, he is carefully taken up and
governed by two guardian spirits. “There were Chthonia and far-seeing
Heliope, and bloody Deris and grave-faced Harmonia, Kallisto and
Aeschra, Thoösa and Denaea, with lovely Nemertes and black-fruited
Asaphaea.”

16. By this diversity of characters is expressed only the variety of
our passions; and these are the seeds of discontent we brought into
the world with us. Since now these disorder our lives and make them
unequal, he that is master of himself wishes for the better, but
expects the worse; but he useth them both with a moderation suitable
to that injunction, Do not any thing too much. For, as Epicurus said,
not only does he that is least impatient after to-morrow enjoy it most
when it comes; but honor, riches, and power give those the greatest
complacency who are not tormented with any apprehensions that the
contrary will befall them. For an immoderate craving after things
of this nature infuseth a fear of losing them, equal to the first
intemperate desire. This deadens the fruition, and makes the pleasure
as weak and unstable as flame driven by the wind. But he to whom his
reason hath given the assurance that he can boldly say to Fortune,

    Welcome to me, if good thou bringest aught.
    And if thou fail, I will take little thought,—

this is the man who can confidently enjoy what is present with him,
and who is not afflicted with such cowardice of thoughts as to be in
constant alarms lest he should lose his possessions, which would be
an intolerable grievance. But let us not only admire but imitate that
temper of mind in Anaxagoras, which made him express himself in these
words upon the death of his son:—

    I knew that I had begotten a mortal.

And let us apply it to all the casualties of our life after this
manner. I know my riches have only the duration of a day; I know
that the same hand which bestowed authority upon me could spoil me of
those ornaments and take it away again; I know my wife to be the best
of women, but still a woman; my friend to be faithful, yet the cement
might be broken, for he was a man,—which, as Plato saith, is a very
inconstant creature. These previous expostulations and preparations,
if any thing fall out which is against our mind but not contrary to
our expectation, will cure the palpitation of our hearts, make our
disturbances settle and go down, and bring our minds to a consistence;
not indulging us in these lazy exclamations, Who would have thought
it?—I looked for better, and did not expect this. Carneades gives us
a short memoir concerning great things, that the cause from whence all
our troubles proceed is that they befall unexpectedly. The kingdom of
Macedon compared with the Roman empire sank in the competition, for
it was only an inconsiderable part of it; yet when Perseus lost it,
he not only deplored his own misfortune, but he was thought by all
the most abject and miserable of mankind. Yet Aemilius that conquered
him, when he delivered up the command of sea and land into the hands
of a successor, was crowned and did sacrifice, and was esteemed happy.
For he knew, when he received his honor, that it was but temporary,
and that he must lay down the authority he had taken up. But Perseus
was stripped of his dominions by surprise. The poet hath prettily
illustrated what it is for a thing to fall out unexpectedly. For
Ulysses, when his dog died, could not forbear crying, yet would not
suffer himself to weep when his wife sate by him crying, but stopped
his tears; for here he came strengthened with reason and beforehand
acquainted with the accident, but before it was the suddenness of the
disaster which raised his sorrow and threw him into complaints.

17. Generally speaking, those things which happen to us against our
will afflict us partly by a pungency that is in their nature, and
partly custom and opinion so effeminate us that we are impatient under
them. But against all contingencies we should have that of Menander in
readiness:—

    Afflictions to thyself thou dost create,
    Thy fancy only is unfortunate.

For what are afflictions to thee, if they touch neither thy body
nor thy soul? Of this sort is the low extraction of thy father, the
adultery of thy wife, the loss of a garland, or being deprived of the
upper seat in an assembly. And with all these crosses thou mayest have
ease of mind and strength of body. But to those things which in their
own nature excite our grief,—such as sickness, pains of the body,
and the death of our friends and children,—we ought to apply that of
Euripides:—

    Alas! alas! and well-a-day!
    But why _alas_ and _well away_?
    Naught else to us hath yet been dealt,
    But that which daily men have felt.

There is no reasoning more effectual to restrain our passions and
hinder our minds from falling into despair, than that which sets before
us a physical necessity and the common lot of nature. And it is our
bodies only that lie exposed to this destiny, and which we offer (as
it were) as a handle to Fortune; but the fort-royal is still secure,
where our strength lies and our most precious things are treasured up.
When Demetrius took Megara, he asked Stilpo whether he had not suffered
particular damage in the plundering; to which he made this answer,
that he saw nobody that could rob him. So when Fate hath made all the
depredations upon us it possibly can and hath left us naked, yet there
is something still within us which is out of the reach of the pirate,—

    Which conquering Greece could never force away.[89]

Therefore we ought not so to vilify and depress our nature as if it
could not get the ascendant over Fortune, and had nothing of firmness
and stability in it. But we ought rather to consider that, if any part
of us is obnoxious to this, it is only that which is the smallest, and
the most impure and sickly too; whilst the better and more generous
we have the most absolute dominion of, and our chiefest goods are
placed in it, such as true discipline, a right notion of things, and
reasonings which in their last results bring us unto virtue; which are
so far from being abolished, that they cannot be corrupted. We ought
likewise, with an invincible spirit and a bold security as regards
futurity, to answer Fortune in those words which Socrates retorted upon
his judges: Anytus and Meletus may kill, but they cannot hurt me. So
she can afflict me with a disease, can spoil me of my riches, disgrace
me with my prince, and bring me under a popular odium; but she cannot
make a good man wicked, or the brave man a mean and degenerate coward;
she cannot cast envy upon a generous temper, or destroy any of those
habits of the mind which are more useful to us in the conduct of our
lives, when they are within the command of our wills, than the skill of
a pilot in a storm. For the pilot cannot mitigate the billows or calm
the winds; he cannot sail into the haven as often as he has occasion,
or without fear and trembling abide any danger that may befall him;
but after having used all his efforts, he at last recommits himself to
the fury of the storm, pulls down all his sails by the board, whilst
the lower mast is within an inch of the abyss, and sits trembling at
the approaching ruin. But the affections of the mind in a wise man
procure tranquillity even to the body. For he prevents the beginnings
of disease by temperance, a spare diet, and moderate exercise; but if
an evil begin more visibly to show itself, as we sometimes steer our
ship by rocks which lie in the water, he must then furl in his sails
and pass by it, as Asclepiades expresseth it; but if the waves grow
turbulent and the sea rougher, the port is at hand, and he may leave
this body, as he would a leaky vessel, and swim ashore.

18. For it is not so much the desire of life as the fear of death,
which makes the fool have such a dependence upon the body, and stick so
fast to its embraces. So Ulysses held fast by the fig-tree, dreading
Charybdis that lay under him,—

    Where the wind would not suffer him to stay.
    Nor would it serve to carry him away,[90]

so that on this side was but a slender support, and there was
inevitable danger on the other. But he who considers the nature of the
soul, and that death will transport it to a condition either far better
or not much worse than what he now enjoys, hath contempt of death to
sustain him as he travelleth on in this pilgrimage of his life, no
small _viaticum_ towards tranquillity of mind. For as to one that can
live pleasantly so long as virtue and the better part of mankind are
predominant, and can depart fearlessly so soon as hostile and unnatural
principles prevail, saying to himself,—

    Fate shall release me when I please myself;[91]

what in the whole scope of the creation can be thought of that can
raise a tumult in such a man, or give him the least molestation?
Certainly, he that threw out that brave defiance to Fortune in these
words, “I have prevented thee, O Fortune, and have shut up all thy
avenues to me,” did not speak it confiding in the strength of walls or
bars, or the security of keys; but it was an effect of his learning,
and the challenge was a dictate of his reason. And these heights of
resolution any men may attain to if they are willing; and we ought
not to distrust, or despair of arriving to the courage of saying
the same things. Therefore we should not only admire, but be kindled
with emulation, and think ourselves touched with the impulse of a
divine instinct, which piques us on to the trial of ourselves in
matters of less importance; that thereby we may find how our tempers
bear to be qualified for greater, and so may not incuriously decline
that inspection we ought to have over ourselves, or take refuge in
the saying, Perchance nothing will be more difficult than this. For
the luxurious thinker, who withdraws himself from severe reflections
and is conversant about no objects but what are easy and delectable,
emasculates his understanding and contracts a softness of spirit; but
he that makes grief, sickness, and banishment the subjects of his
meditation, who composeth his mind sedately, and poiseth himself with
reason to sustain the burthen, will find that those things are vain,
empty, and false which appear so grievous and terrible to the vulgar,
as his own reasonings will make out to him in every particular.

19. But many are shocked at this saying of Menander,—

    No man can tell what will himself befall,—

in the mean while being monstrously ignorant what a noble expedient
this is to disperse our sorrows, to contemplate upon and to be able
to look Fortune steadily in the face; and not to cherish delicate and
effeminate apprehensions of things, like those bred up in the shade,
under false and extravagant hopes which have not strength to resist
the first adversity. But to the saying of Menander we may make this
just and serious reply: It is true that a man while he lives can never
say, This will never befall me; but he can say this, I will not do this
or that; I will scorn to lie; I will not be treacherous or do a thing
ungenerously; I will not defraud or circumvent any one. And to do this
lies within the sphere of our performance, and conduceth extremely
to the tranquillity of the mind. Whereas, on the contrary, the being
conscious of having done a wicked action[92] leaves stings of remorse
behind it, which, like an ulcer in the flesh, makes the mind smart
with perpetual wounds; for reason, which chaseth away all other pains,
creates repentance, shames the soul with confusion, and punisheth it
with torment. But as those who are chilled with an ague or that burn
with a fever feel acuter griefs than those who are scorched with the
sun or frozen up with the severity of the weather, so those things
which are casual and fortuitous give us the least disturbance, because
they are external accidents. But the man whom the truth of this makes
uneasy,—

    Another did not run me on this shelf;
    I was the cause of all the ills myself,[93]

who laments not only his misfortunes but his crimes, finds his agonies
sharpened by the turpitude of the fact. Hence it comes to pass, that
neither rich furniture nor abundance of gold, not a descent from an
illustrious family or greatness of authority, not eloquence and all
the charms of speaking can procure so great a serenity of life as a
mind free from guilt, kept untainted not only from actions but purposes
that are wicked. By this means the soul will be not only unpolluted
but undisturbed; the fountain will run clear and unsullied; and the
streams that flow from it will be just and honest deeds, ecstasies of
satisfaction, a brisk energy of spirit which makes a man an enthusiast
in his joy, and a tenacious memory sweeter than hope, which (as Pindar
saith) with a virgin warmth cherisheth old age.[94] For as censers,
even after they are empty, do for a long time after retain their
fragrancy, as Carneades expresseth it, so the good actions of a wise
man perfume his mind, and leave a rich scent behind them; so that joy
is, as it were, watered with these essences, and owes its flourishing
to them. This makes him pity those who not only bewail but accuse
human life, as if it were only a region of calamities and a place of
banishment appointed for their souls.

20. That saying of Diogenes extremely pleaseth me, who, seeing one
sprucing himself up very neatly to go to a great entertainment, asked
him whether every day was not a festival to a good man. And certainly,
that which makes it the more splendid festival is sobriety. For the
world is a spacious and beautiful temple; this a man is brought into as
soon as he is born, where he is not to be a dull spectator of immovable
and lifeless images made by human hands, but is to contemplate sublime
things, which (as Plato tells us) the divine mind has exhibited to
our senses as likenesses of things in the ideal world, having the
principles of life and motion in themselves; such as are the sun,
moon, and stars; rivers which are still supplied with fresh accessions
of water; and the earth, which with a motherly indulgence suckles
the plants and feeds her sensitive creatures. Now since life is the
introduction and the most perfect initiation into these mysteries, it
is but just that it should be full of cheerfulness and tranquillity.
For we are not to imitate the little vulgar, who wait impatiently for
the jolly days which are consecrated to Saturn, Bacchus, and Minerva,
that they may be merry with hired laughter, and pay such a price to
the mimic and stage-dancer for their diversions. At all these games
and ceremonies we sit silent and composed; for no man laments when he
is initiated in the rites, when he beholds the games of Apollo, or
drinks in the Saturnalia. But when the Gods order the scenes at their
own festivals, or initiate us into their own mysteries, the enjoyment
becomes sordid to us; and we wear out our wretched lives in care,
heaviness of spirit, and bitter complaints.

Men are delighted with the harmonious touches of an instrument; they
are pleased likewise with the melody of the birds; and it is not
without some recreation that they behold the beasts frolicsome and
sporting; but when the frisk is over and they begin to bellow and curl
their brows, the ungrateful noise and their angry looks offend them.
But as for their own lives, they suffer them to pass away without a
smile, to boil with passions, be involved in business, and eaten out
with endless cares. And to ease them of their solicitudes, they will
not seek out for remedies themselves, nor will they even hearken to the
reasons or admit the consolations of their friends. But if they would
only give ear to these, they might bear their present condition without
fault-finding, remember the past with joy and gratitude, and live
without fear or distrust, looking forward to the future with a joyful
and lightsome hope.




OF SUPERSTITION OR INDISCREET DEVOTION.


1. Our great ignorance of the Divine Beings most naturally runs in two
streams; whereof the one in harsh and coarse tempers, as in dry and
stubborn soils, produces atheism, and the other in the more tender and
flexible, as in moist and yielding grounds, produces superstition.
Indeed, every wrong judgment, in matters of this nature especially, is
a great unhappiness to us; but it is here attended with a passion, or
disorder of the mind, of a worse consequence than itself. For every
such passion is, as it were, an error inflamed. And as a dislocation
is the more painful when it is attended with a bruise, so are the
perversions of our understandings, when attended with passion. Is a
man of opinion that atoms and a void were the first origins of things?
It is indeed a mistaken conceit, but makes no ulcer, no shooting, no
searching pain. But is a man of opinion that wealth is his last good?
This error contains in it a canker; it preys upon a man’s spirits, it
transports him, it suffers him not to sleep, it makes him horn-mad,
it carries him over headlong precipices, strangles him, and makes him
unable to speak his mind. Are there some again, that take virtue and
vice for substantial bodies? This may be sottish conceit indeed, but
yet it bespeaks neither lamentations nor groans. But such opinions and
conceits as these,—

    Poor virtue! thou wast but a name, and mere jest,
    And I, choust fool, did practise thee in earnest,

and for thee have I quitted injustice, the way to wealth, and excess,
the parent of all true pleasure,—these are the thoughts that call at
once for our pity and indignation; for they will engender swarms of
diseases, like fly-blows and vermin, in our minds.

2. To return then to our subject, atheism, which is a false persuasion
that there are no blessed and incorruptible beings, tends yet, by its
disbelief of a Divinity, to bring men to a sort of unconcernedness
and indifferency of temper; for the design of those that deny a God
is to ease themselves of his fear. But superstition appears by its
appellation to be a distempered opinion and conceit, productive
of such mean and abject apprehensions as debase and break a man’s
spirit, while he thinks there are divine powers indeed, but withal
sour and vindictive ones. So that the atheist is not at all, and
the superstitious is perversely, affected with the thoughts of
God; ignorance depriving the one of the sense of his goodness, and
superadding to the other a persuasion of his cruelty. Atheism then is
but false reasoning single, but superstition is a disorder of the mind
produced by this false reasoning.

3. Every distemper of our minds is truly base and ignoble; yet some
passions are accompanied with a sort of levity, that makes men appear
gay, prompt, and erect; but none, we may say, are wholly destitute of
force for action. But the common charge upon all sorts of passions
is, that they excite and urge the reason, forcing it by their
violent stings. Fear alone, being equally destitute of reason and
audacity, renders our whole irrational part stupid, distracted, and
unserviceable. Therefore it is called δεῖμα because it _binds_, and
τάρβος because it _distracts_ the mind.[95] But of all fears, none
so dozes and confounds as that of superstition. He fears not the sea
that never goes to sea; nor a battle, that follows not the camp; nor
robbers, that stirs not abroad; nor malicious informers, that is a poor
man; nor emulation, that leads a private life; nor earthquakes, that
dwells in Gaul; nor thunderbolts, that dwells in Ethiopia: but he that
dreads divine powers dreads every thing, the land, the sea, the air,
the sky, the dark, the light, a sound, a silence, a dream. Even slaves
forget their masters in their sleep; sleep lightens the irons of the
fettered; their angry sores, mortified gangrenes, and pinching pains
allow them some intermission at night.

    Dear sleep, sweet easer of my irksome grief,
    Pleasant thou art! how welcome thy relief![96]

Superstition will not permit a man to say this. That alone will give
no truce at night, nor suffer the poor soul so much as to breathe or
look up, or respite her sour and dismal thoughts of God a moment;
but raises in the sleep of the superstitious, as in the place of the
damned, certain prodigious forms and ghastly spectres, and perpetually
tortures the unhappy soul, chasing her out of sleep into dreams,
lashed and tormented by her own self, as by some other, and charged by
herself with dire and portentous injunctions. Neither have they, when
awake, enough sense to slight and smile at all this, or to be pleased
with the thought that nothing of all that terrified them was real; but
they still fear an empty shadow, that could never mean them any ill,
and cheat themselves afresh at noonday, and keep a bustle, and are at
expense upon the next fortune-teller or vagrant that shall but tell
them:—

    If in a dream hobgoblin thou hast seen,
    Or felt’st the rambling guards o’ th’ Fairy Queen,

send for some old witch who can purify thee, go dip thyself in the sea,
and then sit down upon the bare ground the rest of the day.

    O that our Greeks should found such barbarous rites,[97]

as tumbling in mire, rolling themselves in dunghills, keeping of
Sabbaths, monstrous prostrations, long and obstinate sittings in a
place, and vile and abject adorations, and all for vain superstition!
They that were careful to preserve good singing used to direct the
practisers of that science to sing with their mouths in their true and
proper postures. Should not we then admonish those that would address
themselves to the heavenly powers to do that also with a true and
natural mouth, lest, while we are so solicitous that the tongue of a
sacrifice be pure and right, we distort and abuse our own with silly
and canting language, and thereby expose the dignity of our divine
and ancient piety to contempt and raillery? It was not unpleasantly
said somewhere by the comedian to those that adorned their beds with
the needless ornaments of silver and gold: Since the Gods have given
us nothing gratis except sleep, why will you make that so costly? It
might as well be said to the superstitious bigot: Since the Gods have
bestowed sleep on us, to the intent we may take some rest and forget
our sorrows, why will you needs make it a continual irksome tormentor,
when you know your poor soul hath ne’er another sleep to betake herself
to? Heraclitus saith: They who are awake have a world in common amongst
them; but they that are asleep are retired each to his own private
world. But the frightful visionary hath ne’er a world at all, either
in common with others or in private to himself; for neither can he use
his reason when awake, nor be free from his fears when asleep; but he
hath his reason always asleep, and his fears always awake; nor hath he
either an hiding-place or refuge.

4. Polycrates was formidable at Samos, and so was Periander at Corinth;
but no man ever feared either of them that had made his escape to an
equal and free government. But he that dreads the divine government, as
a sort of inexorable and implacable tyranny, whither can he remove?
Whither can he fly? What land, what sea can he find where God is not?
Wretched and miserable man! in what corner of the world canst thou so
hide thyself, as to think thou hast now escaped him? Slaves are allowed
by the laws, when they despair of obtaining their freedom, to demand
a second sale, in hopes of kinder masters. But superstition allows of
no change of Gods; nor could he indeed find a God he would not fear,
that dreads his own and his ancestors’ guardians, that quivers at his
preservers and benign patrons, and that trembles and shakes at those of
whom we ask wealth, plenty, concord, peace, and direction to the best
words and actions. Slaves again account it their misfortune to become
such, and can say,—

    Both man and wife in direful slavery,
    And with ill masters too! Fate’s worst decree!

But how much less tolerable, think you, is their condition, that can
never possibly run away, escape, or desert? A slave may fly to an
altar, and many temples afford sanctuary to thieves; and they that are
pursued by an enemy think themselves safe if they can catch hold on a
statue or a shrine. But the superstitious fears, quivers, and dreads
most of all there, where others when fearfullest take greatest courage.
Never hale a superstitious man from the altar. It is his place of
torment; he is there chastised. In one word, death itself, the end of
life, puts no period to this vain and foolish dread; but it transcends
those limits, and extends its fears beyond the grave, adding to it the
imagination of immortal ills; and after respite from past sorrows, it
fancies it shall next enter upon never-ending ones. I know not what
gates of hell open themselves from beneath, rivers of fire together
with Stygian torrents present themselves to view; a gloomy darkness
appears full of ghastly spectres and horrid shapes, with dreadful
aspects and doleful groans, together with judges and tormentors, pits
and caverns, full of millions of miseries and woes. Thus does wretched
superstition bring inevitably upon itself by its fancies even those
calamities which it has once escaped.

5. Atheism is attended with none of this. True indeed, the ignorance
is very lamentable and sad. For to be blind or to see amiss in matters
of this consequence cannot but be a fatal unhappiness to the mind, it
being then deprived of the fairest and brightest of its many eyes,
the knowledge of God. Yet this opinion (as hath been said) is not
necessarily accompanied with any disordering, ulcerous, frightful,
or slavish passion. Plato thinks the Gods never gave men music, the
science of melody and harmony, for mere delectation or to tickle the
ear, but in order that the confusion and disorder in the periods and
harmonies of the soul, which often for want of the Muses and of grace
break forth into extravagance through intemperance and license, might
be sweetly recalled, and artfully wound up to their former consent and
agreement.

    No animal accurst by Jove
    Music’s sweet charms can ever love,[98]

saith Pindar. For all such will rave and grow outrageous straight. Of
this we have an instance in tigers, which (as they say), if they hear
but a tabor beat near them, will rage immediately and run stark mad,
and in fine tear themselves in pieces. They certainly suffer the less
inconvenience of the two, who either through defect of hearing or utter
deafness are wholly insensible of music, and therefore unmoved by it.
It was a great misfortune indeed to Tiresias, that he wanted sight to
see his friends and children; but a far greater to Athamas and Agave,
to see them in the shape of lions and bucks. And it had been happier
for Hercules, when he was distracted, if he could have neither seen nor
known his children, than to have used like the worst of enemies those
he so tenderly loved.

6. Well then, is not this the very case of the atheist, compared with
the superstitious? The former sees not the Gods at all, the latter
believes that he really sees them; the former wholly overlooks them,
but the latter mistakes their benignity for terror, their paternal
affection for tyranny, their providence for cruelty, and their frank
simplicity for savageness and brutality.

Again, the workman in copper, stone, and wax can persuade such that
the Gods are in human shape; for so they make them, so they draw them,
and so they worship them. But they will not hear either philosophers
or statesmen that describe the majesty of the Divinity as accompanied
by goodness, magnanimity, benignity, and beneficence. The one
therefore hath neither a sense nor belief of that divine good he might
participate of; and the other dreads and fears it. In a word, atheism
is an absolute insensibility to God (or _want of passion_), which does
not recognize goodness; while superstition is a blind heap of passions,
which imagine the good to be evil. They are afraid of their Gods, and
yet run to them; they fawn upon them, and reproach them; they invoke
them, and accuse them. It is the common destiny of humanity not to
enjoy uninterrupted felicity.

    Nor pains, nor age, nor labor they e’er bore,
    Nor visited rough Acheron’s hoarse shore,

saith Pindar of the Gods; but human passions and affairs are liable to
a strange multiplicity of uncertain accidents and contingencies.

7. Consider well the atheist, and observe his behavior first in things
not under the disposal of his will. If he be otherwise a man of good
temper, he is silent under his present circumstances, and is providing
himself with either remedies or palliatives for his misfortunes.
But if he be a fretful and impatient man, his whole complaint is
against Fortune. He cries out, that nothing is managed here below
either after the rules of a strict justice or the orderly course of a
providence, and that all human affairs are hurried and driven without
either premeditation or distinction. This is not the demeanor of the
superstitious; if the least thing do but happen amiss to him, he
sits him down plunged in sorrow, and raises himself a vast tempest
of intolerable and incurable passions, and presents his fancy with
nothing but terrors, fears, surmises, and distractions, until he hath
overwhelmed himself with groans and fears. He blames neither man, nor
Fortune, nor the times, nor himself; but charges all upon God, from
whom he fancies a whole deluge of vengeance to be pouring down upon
him; and, as if he were not only unfortunate but in open hostility
with Heaven, he imagines that he is punished by God and is now making
satisfaction for his past crimes, and saith that his sufferings are
all just and owing to himself. Again, when the atheist falls sick,
he reckons up and calls to his remembrance his several surfeits and
debauches, his irregular course of living, excessive labors, or
unaccustomed changes of air or climate. Likewise, when he miscarries in
any public administration, and either falls into popular disgrace or
comes to be ill presented to his prince, he searches for the causes in
himself and those about him, and asks,

    Where have I erred? What have I done amiss?
    What should be done by me that undone is?[99]

But the fanciful superstitionist accounts every little distemper
in his body or decay in his estate, the death of his children, and
crosses and disappointments in matters relating to the public, as
the immediate strokes of God and the incursions of some vindictive
daemon. And therefore he dares not attempt to remove or relieve his
disasters, or to use the least remedy or to oppose himself to them,
for fear he should seem to struggle with God and to make resistance
under correction. If he be sick, he thrusts away the physician; if he
be in any grief, he shuts out the philosopher that would comfort and
advise him. Let me alone, saith he, to pay for my sins: I am a cursed
and vile offender, and detestable both to God and angels. Now suppose
a man unpersuaded of a Divinity in never so great sorrow and trouble,
you may yet possibly wipe away his tears, cut his hair, and force away
his mourning; but how will you come at this superstitious penitentiary,
either to speak to him or to bring him any relief? He sits him down
without doors in sackcloth, or wrapped up in foul and nasty rags; yea,
many times rolls himself naked in mire, repeating over I know not what
sins and transgressions of his own; as, how he did eat this thing and
drink the other thing, or went some way prohibited by his Genius. But
suppose he be now at his best, and laboring under only a mild attack of
superstition; you shall even then find him sitting down in the midst of
his house all becharmed and bespelled, with a parcel of old women about
him, tugging all they can light on, and hanging it upon him as (to use
an expression of Bion’s) upon some nail or peg.

8. It is reported of Teribazus that, being seized by the Persians, he
drew out his scimitar, and being a very stout person, defended himself
bravely; but when they cried out and told him he was apprehended by
the king’s order, he immediately put up his sword, and presented his
hands to be bound. Is not this the very case of the superstitious?
Others can oppose their misfortunes, repel their troubles, and furnish
themselves with retreats, or means of avoiding the stroke of things
not under the disposal of their wills; but the superstitious person,
without anybody’s speaking to him,—but merely upon his own saying
to himself, This thou undergoest, vile wretch, by the direction of
Providence, and by Heaven’s just appointment,—immediately casts away
all hope, surrenders himself up, and shuns and affronts his friends
that would relieve him. Thus do these sottish fears oftentimes convert
tolerable evils into fatal and insupportable ones. The ancient Midas
(as the story goes of him), being much troubled and disquieted by
certain dreams, grew so melancholy thereupon, that he made himself away
by drinking bull’s blood. Aristodemus, king of Messenia, when a war
broke out betwixt the Lacedaemonians and the Messenians, upon some dogs
howling like wolves, and grass coming up about his ancestors’ domestic
altar, and his divines presaging ill upon it, fell into such a fit of
sullenness and despair that he slew himself. And perhaps it had been
better if the Athenian general, Nicias, had been eased of his folly the
same way that Midas and Aristodemus were, than for him to sit still
for fear of a lunar eclipse, while he was invested by an enemy, and so
be himself made a prisoner, together with an army of forty thousand
men (that were all either slain or taken), and die ingloriously. There
was nothing formidable in the inter-position of the earth betwixt the
sun and the moon, neither was there any thing dreadful in the shadow’s
meeting the moon at the proper time: no, the dreadfulness lay here,
that the darkness of ignorance should blind and befool a man’s reason
at a time when he had most occasion to use it.

    Glaucus, behold!
    The sea with billows deep begins to roll;
    The seas begin in azure rods to lie;
    A teeming cloud of pitch hangs on the sky
    Right o’er Gyre rocks; there is a tempest nigh;[100]

which as soon as the pilot sees, he falls to his prayers and invokes
his tutelar daemons, but neglects not in the mean time to hold to the
rudder and let down the mainyard; and so,

    By gathering in his sails, with mighty pain,
    Escapes the hell-pits of the raging main.

Hesiod[101] directs his husbandman, before he either plough or sow, to
pray to the infernal Jove and the venerable Ceres, but with his hand
upon the plough-tail. Homer acquaints us how Ajax, being to engage in
a single combat with Hector, bade the Grecians pray to the Gods for
him; and while they were at their devotions, he was putting on his
armor. Likewise, after Agamemnon had thus prepared his soldiers for the
fight,—

    Each make his spear to glitter as the sun,
    Each see his warlike target well hung on,—

he then prayed,—

    Grant me, great Jove, to throw down Priam’s roof.[102]

For God is the brave man’s hope, and not the coward’s excuse. The
Jews indeed once sat on their tails,—it being forsooth their Sabbath
day,—and suffered their enemies to rear their scaling-ladders and
make themselves masters of their walls, and so lay still until
they were caught like so many trout in the drag-net of their own
superstition.[103]

9. Such then is the behavior of superstition in times of adversity,
and in things out of the power of man’s will. Nor doth it a jot excel
atheism in the more agreeable and pleasurable part of our lives.
Now what we esteem the most agreeable things in human life are our
holidays, temple-feasts, initiatings, processionings, with our public
prayers and solemn devotions. Mark we now the atheist’s behavior here.
’Tis true, he laughs at all that is done, with a frantic and sardonic
laughter, and now and then whispers to a confidant of his, The devil
is in these people sure, that can imagine God can be taken with these
fooleries, but this is the worst of his disasters. But now the
superstitious man would fain be pleasant and gay, but cannot for his
heart. The whole town is filled with odors of incense and perfumes, and
at the same time a mixture of hymns and sighs fills his poor soul.[104]
He looks pale with a garland on his head, he sacrifices and fears,
prays with a faltering tongue, and offers incense with a trembling
hand. In a word, he utterly baffles that saying of Pythagoras, that we
are then best when we come near the Gods. For the superstitious person
is then in his worst and most pitiful condition, when he approaches the
shrines and temples of the Gods.

10. So that I cannot but wonder at those that charge atheism with
impiety, and in the mean time acquit superstition. Anaxagoras was
indicted of blasphemy for having affirmed the sun to be a red-hot
stone; yet the Cimmerians were never much blamed for denying his being.
What? Is he that holds there is no God guilty of impiety, and is not he
that describes him as the superstitious do much more guilty? I, for my
own part, had much rather people should say of me, that there neither
is nor ever was such a man as Plutarch, than they should say: “Plutarch
is an unsteady, fickle, froward, vindictive, and touchy fellow; if
you invite others to sup with you, and chance to leave out Plutarch,
or if some business falls out that you cannot wait at his door with
the morning salute, or if when you meet with him you don’t speak to
him, he’ll fasten upon you somewhere with his teeth and bite the part
through, or catch one of your children and cane him, or turn his beast
into your corn and spoil your crop.” When Timotheus the musician was
one day singing at Athens an hymn to Diana, in which among other things
was this,—

    Mad, raving, tearing, foaming Deity,—

Cinesias, the lyric poet, stood up from the midst of the spectators,
and spoke aloud: I wish thee with all my heart such a Goddess to thy
daughter, Timotheus. Such like, nay worse, are the conceits of the
superstitious about this Goddess Diana:—

    Thou dost on the bed-clothes jump,
    And there liest like a lump.
    Thou dost tantalize the bride,
    When love’s charms by thee are tied.
    Thou look’st grim and full of dread,
    When thou walk’st to find the dead.
    Thou down chairs and tables rumbl’st,
    When with Oberon thou tumbl’st.[105]

Nor have they any milder sentiments of Apollo, Juno, or Venus; for they
are equally scared with them all. Alas! what could poor Niobe ever say
that could be so reflecting upon the honor of Latona, as that which
superstition makes fools believe of her? Niobe, it seems, had given her
some hard words, for which she fairly shot her

    Six daughters, and six sons full in their prime;[106]

so impatient was she, and insatiate with the calamities of another.
Now if the Goddess was really thus choleric and vindictive and so
highly incensed with bad language, and if she had not the wisdom to
smile at human frailty and ignorance, but suffered herself to be thus
transported with passion, I much marvel she did not shoot them too
that told this cruel story of her, and charged her both in speech and
writing with so much spleen and rancor. We oft accuse Queen Hecuba of
barbarous and savage bitterness, for having once said in Homer,—

    Would God I had his liver ’twixt my teeth;[107]

yet the superstitious believe, if a man taste of a minnow or bleak,
the Syrian Goddess will eat his shins through, fill his body with
sores, and dissolve his liver.

11. Is it a sin then to speak amiss of the Gods, and is it not to
think amiss of them? And is not thinking the cause of speaking ill?
For the only reason of our dislike to detraction is that we look upon
it as a token of ill-will to us; and we therefore take those for our
enemies that misrepresent us, because we look upon them as untrusty
and disaffected. You see then what the superstitious think of the
divinity, while they fancy the Gods such heady, faithless, fickle,
revengeful, cruel, and fretful things. The consequence of which is
that the superstitious person must needs both fear and hate them at
once. And indeed, how can he otherwise choose, while he thinks the
greatest calamities he either doth now or must hereafter undergo are
wholly owing to them? Now he that both hates and fears the Gods must
of necessity be their enemy. And if he trembles, fears, prostrates,
sacrifices, and sits perpetually in their temples, that is no marvel at
all. For the very worst of tyrants are complimented and attended, yea,
have statues of gold erected to them, by those who in private hate them
and wag their heads. Hermolaus waited on Alexander, and Pausanias was
of Philip’s guard, and so was Chaerea of Caligula’s; yet every one of
these said, I warrant you, in his heart as he went along,—

    Had I a power as my will is good,
    Know this, bold tyrant, I would have thy blood.[108]

The atheist believes there are no Gods; the superstitious would have
none, but is a believer against his will, and would be an infidel if
he durst. He would be as glad to ease himself of the burthen of his
fear, as Tantalus would be to slip his head from under the great stone
that hangs over him, and would bless the condition of the atheist as
absolute freedom, compared with his own. The atheist now has nothing
to do with superstition; while the superstitious is an atheist in his
heart, but is too much a coward to think as he is inclined.

12. Moreover, atheism hath no hand at all in causing superstition;
but superstition not only gave atheism its first birth, but serves it
ever since by giving it its best apology for existing, which, although
it be neither a good nor a fair one, is yet the most specious and
colorable. For men were not at first made atheists by any fault they
found in the heavens or stars, or in the seasons of the year, or in
those revolutions or motions of the sun about the earth that make the
day and night; nor yet by observing any mistake or disorder either in
the breeding of animals or the production of fruits. No, it was the
uncouth actions and ridiculous and senseless passions of superstition,
her canting words, her foolish gestures, her charms, her magic, her
freakish processions, her taborings, her foul expiations, her vile
methods of purgation, and her barbarous and inhuman penances, and
bemirings at the temples,—it was these, I say, that gave occasion to
many to affirm, it would be far happier there were no Gods at all than
for them to be pleased and delighted with such fantastic toys, and to
thus abuse their votaries, and to be incensed and pacified with trifles.

13. Had it not been much better for the so much famed Gauls and
Scythians to have neither thought nor imagined nor heard any thing of
their Gods, than to have believed them such as would be pleased with
the blood of human sacrifices, and would account such for the most
complete and meritorious of expiations? How much better had it been
for the Carthaginians to have had either a Critias or a Diagoras for
their first lawmaker, that so they might have believed in neither God
nor spirits, than to make such offerings to Saturn as they made?—not
such as Empedocles speaks of, where he thus touches the sacrifices of
beasts:—

    The sire lifts up his dear beloved son,
    Who first some other form and shape did take;
    He doth him slay and sacrifice anon,
    And therewith vows and foolish prayers doth make.

But they knowingly and wittingly themselves devoted their own children;
and they that had none of their own bought of some poor people, and
then sacrificed them like lambs or pigeons, the poor mother standing by
the while without either a sigh or tear; and if by chance she fetched
a sigh or let fall a tear, she lost the price of her child, but it was
nevertheless sacrificed. All the places round the image were in the
mean time filled with the noise of hautboys and tabors, to drown the
poor infants’ crying. Suppose we now the Typhons and Giants should
depose the Gods and make themselves masters of mankind, what sort of
sacrifices, think you, would they expect? Or what other expiations
would they require? The queen of King Xerxes, Amestris, buried twelve
men alive, as a sacrifice to Pluto to prolong her own life; and yet
Plato saith, This God is called in Greek Hades, because he is placid,
wise, and wealthy, and retains the souls of men by persuasion and
oratory. That great naturalist Xenophanes, seeing the Egyptians beating
their breasts and lamenting at the solemn times of their devotions,
gave them this pertinent and seasonable admonition: If they are Gods
(said he), don’t cry for them; and if they are men, don’t sacrifice to
them.

14. There is certainly no infirmity belonging to us that contains
such a multiplicity of errors and fond passions, or that consists of
such incongruous and incoherent opinions, as this of superstition
doth. It behooves us therefore to do our utmost to escape it; but
withal, we must see we do it safely and prudently, and not rashly and
inconsiderately, as people run from the incursions of robbers or from
fire, and fall into bewildered and untrodden paths full of pits and
precipices. For so some, while they would avoid superstition, leap over
the golden mean of true piety into the harsh and coarse extreme of
atheism.




THE APOPHTHEGMS OR REMARKABLE SAYINGS OF KINGS AND GREAT COMMANDERS.


PLUTARCH TO TRAJAN THE EMPEROR WISHETH PROSPERITY.

Artaxerxes, King of Persia, O Caesar Trajan, greatest of princes,
esteemed it no less royal and bountiful kindly and cheerfully to accept
small, than to make great presents; and when he was in a progress,
and a common country laborer, having nothing else, took up water with
both his hands out of the river and presented it to him, he smiled
and received it pleasantly, measuring the kindness not by the value
of the gift, but by the affection of the giver. And Lycurgus ordained
in Sparta very cheap sacrifices, that they might always worship the
Gods readily and easily with such things as were at hand. Upon the
same account, when I bring a mean and slender present of the common
first-fruits of philosophy, accept also (I beseech you) with my good
affection these short memorials, if they may contribute any thing to
the knowledge of the manners and dispositions of great men, which
are more apparent in their words than in their actions. My former
treatise contains the lives of the most eminent princes, lawgivers,
and generals, both Romans and Grecians; but most of their actions
admit a mixture of fortune, whereas such speeches and answers as
happened amidst their employments, passions, and events afford us (as
in a looking-glass) a clear discovery of each particular temper and
disposition. Accordingly Siramnes the Persian, to such as wondered
that he usually spoke like a wise man and yet was unsuccessful in his
designs, replied: I myself am master of my words, but the king and
fortune have power over my actions. In the former treatise speeches
and actions are mingled together, and require a reader that is at
leisure; but in this the speeches, being as it were the seeds and the
illustrations of those lives, are placed by themselves, and will not
(I think) be tedious to you, since they will give you in a few words a
review of many memorable persons.

CYRUS. The Persians affect such as are hawk-nosed and think them most
beautiful, because Cyrus, the most beloved of their kings, had a
nose of that shape. Cyrus said that those that would not do good for
themselves ought to be compelled to do good for others; and that nobody
ought to govern, unless he was better than those he governed. When the
Persians were desirous to exchange their hills and rocks for a plain
and soft country, he would not suffer them, saying that both the seeds
of plants and the lives of men resemble the soil they inhabit.

DARIUS. Darius the father of Xerxes used to praise himself, saying
that he became even wiser in battles and dangers. When he laid a tax
upon his subjects, he summoned his lieutenants, and asked them whether
the tax was burthensome or not? When they told him it was moderate,
he commanded them to pay half as much as was at first demanded. As he
was opening a pomegranate, one asked him what it was of which he would
wish for a number equal to the seeds thereof. He said, Of men like
Zopyrus,—who was a loyal person and his friend. This Zopyrus, after
he had maimed himself by cutting off his nose and ears, beguiled the
Babylonians; and being trusted by them, he betrayed the city to Darius,
who often said that he would not have had Zopyrus maimed to gain a
hundred Babylons.

SEMIRAMIS. Semiramis built a monument for herself, with this
inscription: Whatever king wants treasure, if he open this tomb, he
may be satisfied. Darius therefore opening it found no treasure, but
another inscription of this import: If thou wert not a wicked person
and of insatiable covetousness, thou wouldst not disturb the mansions
of the dead.

XERXES. Arimenes came out of Bactria as a rival for the kingdom with
his brother Xerxes, the son of Darius. Xerxes sent presents to him,
commanding those that brought them to say: With these your brother
Xerxes now honors you; and if he chance to be proclaimed king, you
shall be the next person to himself in the kingdom. When Xerxes was
declared king, Arimenes immediately did him homage and placed the crown
upon his head; and Xerxes gave him the next place to himself. Being
offended with the Babylonians, who rebelled, and having overcome them,
he forbade them weapons, but commanded they should practise singing and
playing on the flute, keep brothel-houses and taverns, and wear loose
coats. He refused to eat Attic figs that were brought to be sold, until
he had conquered the country that produced them. When he caught some
Grecian scouts in his camp, he did them no harm, but having allowed
them to view his army as much as they pleased, he let them go.

ARTAXERXES. Artaxerxes, the son of Xerxes, surnamed Longimanus (or
_Long-hand_) because he had one hand longer than the other, said, it
was more princely to add than to take away. He first gave leave to
those that hunted with him, if they would and saw occasion, to throw
their darts before him. He also first ordained that punishment for
his nobles who had offended, that they should be stripped and their
garments scourged instead of their bodies; and whereas their hair
should have been plucked out, that the same should be done to their
turbans. When Satibarzanes, his chamberlain, petitioned him in an
unjust matter, and he understood he did it to gain thirty thousand
pieces of money, he ordered his treasurer to bring the said sum, and
gave them to him, saying: O Satibarzanes! take it; for when I have
given you this, I shall not be poorer, but I had been more unjust if I
had granted your petition.

CYRUS THE YOUNGER. Cyrus the Younger, when he was exhorting the
Lacedaemonians to side with him in the war, said that he had a stronger
heart than his brother, and could drink more wine unmixed than he, and
bear it better; that his brother, when he hunted, could scarce sit
his horse, or when ill news arrived, his throne. He exhorted them to
send him men, promising he would give horses to footmen, chariots to
horsemen, villages to those that had farms, and those that possessed
villages he would make lords of cities; and that he would give them
gold and silver, not by tale but by weight.

ARTAXERXES MNEMON. Artaxerxes, the brother of Cyrus the Younger, called
Mnemon, did not only give very free and patient access to any that
would speak with him, but commanded the queen his wife to draw the
curtains of her chariot, that petitioners might have the same access
to her also. When a poor man presented him with a very fair and great
apple, By the Sun, said he, ’tis my opinion, if this person were
entrusted with a small city, he would make it great. In his flight,
when his carriages were plundered, and he was forced to eat dry figs
and barley-bread, Of how great pleasure, said he, have I hitherto lived
ignorant!

PARYSATIS. Parysatis, the mother of Cyrus and Artaxerxes, advised him
that would discourse freely with the king, to use words of fine linen.

ORONTES. Orontes, the son-in-law of King Artaxerxes, falling into
disgrace and being condemned, said: As arithmeticians count sometimes
myriads on their fingers, sometimes units only; in like manner the
favorites of kings sometimes can do every thing with them, sometimes
little or nothing.

MEMNON. Memnon, one of King Darius’s generals against Alexander, when a
mercenary soldier excessively and impudently reviled Alexander, struck
him with his spear, adding, I pay you to fight against Alexander, not
to reproach him.

EGYPTIAN KINGS. The Egyptian kings, according unto their law, used to
swear their judges that they should not obey the king when he commanded
them to give an unjust sentence.

POLTYS. Poltys king of Thrace, in the Trojan war, being solicited both
by the Trojan and Grecian ambassadors, advised Alexander to restore
Helen, promising to give him two beautiful women for her.

TERES. Teres, the father of Sitalces, said, when he was out of the army
and had nothing to do, he thought there was no difference between him
and his grooms.

COTYS. Cotys, when one gave him a leopard, gave him a lion for it. He
was naturally prone to anger, and severely punished the miscarriages
of his servants. When a stranger brought him some earthen vessels,
thin and brittle, but delicately shaped and admirably adorned with
sculptures, he requited the stranger for them, and then brake them
all in pieces, Lest (said he) my passion should provoke me to punish
excessively those that brake them.

IDATHYRSUS. Idathyrsus, King of Scythia, when Darius invaded him,
solicited the Ionian tyrants that they would assert their liberty by
breaking down the bridge that was made over the Danube: which they
refusing to do because they had sworn fealty to Darius, he called them
good, honest, lazy slaves.

ATEAS. Ateas wrote to Philip: You reign over the Macedonians, men
that have learned fighting; and I over the Scythians, which can fight
with hunger and thirst. As he was rubbing his horse, turning to the
ambassadors of Philip, he asked whether Philip did so or not. He took
prisoner Ismenias, an excellent piper, and commanded him to play; and
when others admired him, he swore it was more pleasant to hear a horse
neigh.

SCILURUS. Scilurus on his death-bed, being about to leave fourscore
sons surviving, offered a bundle of darts to each of them, and bade
them break them. When all refused, drawing out one by one, he easily
broke them; thus teaching them that, if they held together, they would
continue strong, but if they fell out and were divided, they would
become weak.

GELO. Gelo the tyrant, after he had overcome the Carthaginians at
Himera, made peace with them, and among other articles compelled
them to subscribe this,—that they should no more sacrifice their
children to Saturn. He often marched the Syracusans out to plant their
fields, as if it had been to war, that the country might be improved
by husbandry, and they might not be corrupted by idleness. When he
demanded a sum of money of the citizens, and thereupon a tumult was
raised, he told them he would but borrow it; and after the war was
ended, he restored it to them again. At a feast, when a harp was
offered, and others one after another tuned it and played upon it, he
sent for his horse, and with an easy agility leaped upon him.

HIERO. Hiero, who succeeded Gelo in the tyranny, said he was not
disturbed by any that freely spoke against him. He judged that those
that revealed a secret did an injury to those to whom they revealed it;
for we hate not only those who tell, but them also that hear what we
would not have disclosed. One upbraided him with his stinking breath,
and he blamed his wife that never told him of it; but she said, I
thought all men smelt so. To Xenophanes the Colophonian, who said he
had much ado to maintain two servants, he replied: But Homer, whom you
disparage, maintains above ten thousand, although he is dead. He fined
Epicharmus the comedian, for speaking unseemly when his wife was by.

DIONYSIUS. Dionysius the Elder, when the public orators cast lots to
know in what order they should speak, drew as his lot the letter M. And
when one said to him, Μωρολογεῖς, You will make a foolish speech, O
Dionysius, You are mistaken, said he, Μοναρχήσω, I shall be a monarch.
And as soon as his speech was ended, the Syracusans chose him general.
In the beginning of his tyranny, the citizens rebelled and besieged
him; and his friends advised him to resign the government, rather
than to be taken and slain by them. But he, seeing a cook butcher an
ox and the ox immediately fall down dead, said to his friends: Is
it not a hateful thing, that for fear of so short a death we should
resign so great a government? When his son, whom he intended to make
his successor in the government, had been detected in debauching a
freeman’s wife, he asked him in anger, When did you ever know me guilty
of such a crime? But you, sir, replied the son, had not a tyrant for
your father. Nor will you, said he, have a tyrant for your son, unless
you mend your manners. And another time, going into his son’s house and
seeing there abundance of silver and gold plate, he cried out: Thou art
not capable of being a tyrant, who hast made never a friend with all
the plate I have given thee. When he exacted money of the Syracusans,
and they lamenting and beseeching him pretended they had none, he still
exacted more, twice or thrice renewing his demands, until he heard them
laugh and jeer at him as they went to and fro in the market-place,
and then he gave over. Now, said he, since they contemn me, it is a
sign they have nothing left. When his mother, being ancient, requested
him to find a husband for her, I can, said he, overpower the laws of
the city, but I cannot force the laws of Nature. Although he punished
other malefactors severely, he favored such as stole clothes, that
the Syracusans might forbear feasting and drunken clubs. A certain
person told him privately, he could show him a way how he might know
beforehand such as conspired against him. Let us know, said he, going
aside. Give me, said the person, a talent, that everybody may believe
that I have taught you the signs and tokens of plotters; and he gave it
him, pretending he had learned them, much admiring the subtilty of the
man. Being asked whether he was at leisure, he replied: God forbid that
it should ever befall me. Hearing that two young men very much reviled
him and his tyranny in their cups, he invited both of them to supper;
and perceiving that one of them prattled freely and foolishly, but the
other drank warily and sparing, he dismissed the first as a drunken
fellow whose treason lay no deeper than his wine, and put the other
to death as a disaffected and resolved traitor. Some blaming him for
rewarding and preferring a wicked man, and one hated by the citizens;
I would have, said he, somebody hated more than myself. When he gave
presents to the ambassadors of Corinth, and they refused them because
their law forbade them to receive gifts from a prince to whom they
were sent in embassy, he said they did very ill to destroy the only
advantage of tyranny, and to declare that it was dangerous to receive
a kindness from a tyrant. Hearing that a citizen had buried a quantity
of gold in his house, he sent for it; and when the party removed to
another city, and bought a farm with part of his treasure which he had
concealed, Dionysius sent for him and bade him take back the rest,
since he had now begun to use his money, and was no longer making a
useful thing useless.

DIONYSIUS THE YOUNGER said that he maintained many Sophists; not that
he admired them, but that he might be admired for their sake. When
Polyxenus the logician told him he had baffled him; Yes, said he,
in words, but I have caught you in deeds; for you, leaving your own
fortune, attend me and mine. When he was deposed from his government,
and one asked him what he got by Plato and philosophy, he answered,
That I may bear so great a change of fortune patiently. Being asked how
it came to pass that his father, a private and poor man, obtained the
government of Syracuse, and he already possessed of it, and the son of
a tyrant, lost it,—My father, said he, entered upon affairs when the
democracy was hated, but I, when tyranny was become odious. To another
that asked him the same question, he replied: My father bequeathed to
me his government, but not his fortune.

AGATHOCLES was the son of a potter. When he became lord and was
proclaimed king of Sicily, he was wont to place earthen and golden
vessels together, and show them to young men, telling them, Those I
made first, but now I make these by my valor and industry. As he was
besieging a city, some from the walls reviling him, saying, Do you
hear, potter, where will you have money to pay your soldiers?—he
gently answered, I’ll tell you, if I take this city. And having taken
it by storm, he sold the prisoners, telling them, If you reproach me
again, I will complain to your masters. Some inhabitants of Ithaca
complained of his mariners, that making a descent on the island they
had taken away some cattle; But your king, said he, came to Sicily, and
did not only take away sheep, but put out the shepherd’s eyes, and went
his way.

DION. Dion, that deposed Dionysius from the tyranny, when he heard
Callippus, whom of all his friends and attendants he trusted most,
conspired against him, refused to question him for it, saying: It is
better for him to die than to live, who must be weary not only of his
enemies, but of his friends too.

ARCHELAUS. Archelaus, when one of his companions (and none of the
best) begged a golden cup of him, bade the boy give it Euripides; and
when the man wondered at him, You, said he, are worthy to ask, but
he is worthy to receive it without asking. A prating barber asked him
how he would be trimmed. He answered, In silence. When Euripides at a
banquet embraced fair Agatho and kissed him, although he was no longer
beardless, he said, turning to his friends: Do not wonder at it, for
the beauty of such as are handsome lasts after autumn.

Timotheus the harper, receiving of him a reward less than his
expectation, twitted him for it not obscurely; and once singing the
short verse of the chorus, You commend earth-born silver, directed it
to him. And Archelaus answered him again singing, But you beg it. When
one sprinkled water upon him, and his friends would have had him punish
the man, You are mistaken, said he, he did not sprinkle me, but some
other person whom he took me to be.

PHILIP. Theophrastus tells us that Philip, the father of Alexander,
was not only greater in his port and success, but also freer from
luxury than other kings of his time. He said the Athenians were happy,
if they could find every year ten fit to be chosen generals, since in
many years he could find but one fit to be a general, and that was
Parmenio. When he had news brought him of divers and eminent successes
in one day, O Fortune, said he, for all these so great kindnesses do me
some small mischief. After he had conquered Greece, some advised him
to place garrisons in the cities. No, said he, I had rather be called
merciful a great while, than lord a little while. His friends advised
him to banish a railer his court. I will not do it, said he, lest he
should go about and rail in many places. Smicythus accused Nicanor for
one that commonly spoke evil of King Philip; and his friends advised
him to send for him and punish him. Truly, said he, Nicanor is not the
worst of the Macedonians; we ought therefore to consider whether we
have given him any cause or not. When he understood therefore that
Nicanor, being slighted by the king, was much afflicted with poverty,
he ordered a boon should be given him. And when Smicythus reported
that Nicanor was continually abounding in the king’s praises, You see
then, said he, that whether we will be well or ill spoken of is in
our own power. He said he was beholden to the Athenian orators, who
by reproaching him made him better both in speech and behavior; for
I will endeavor, said he, both by my words and actions to prove them
liars. Such Athenians as he took prisoners in the fight at Chaeronea he
dismissed without ransom. When they also demanded their garments and
quilts, and on that account accused the Macedonians, Philip laughed and
said, Do ye not think these Athenians imagine we beat them at cockal?
In a fight he broke his collar-bone, and the surgeon that had him in
cure requested him daily for his reward. Take what you will, said he,
for you have the key.[109] There were two brothers called Both and
Either; perceiving Either was a good understanding busy fellow and
Both a silly fellow and good for little, he said: Either is Both, and
Both is Neither. To some that advised him to deal severely with the
Athenians he said: You talk absurdly, who would persuade a man that
suffers all things for the sake of glory, to overthrow the theatre of
glory. Being arbitrator betwixt two wicked persons, he commanded one to
fly out of Macedonia and the other to pursue him. Being about to pitch
his camp in a likely place, and hearing there was no hay to be had for
the cattle, What a life, said he, is ours, since we must live according
to the convenience of asses! Designing to take a strong fort, which
the scouts told him was exceeding difficult and impregnable, he asked
whether it was so difficult that an ass could not come at it laden with
gold. Lasthenes the Olynthian and his friends being aggrieved, and
complaining that some of Philip’s retinue called them traitors, These
Macedonians, said he, are a rude and clownish people, that call a spade
a spade. He exhorted his son to behave himself courteously toward the
Macedonians, and to acquire influence with the people, while he could
be affable and gracious during the reign of another. He advised him
also to make friends of men of interest in the cities, both good and
bad, that afterwards he might make use of these, and suppress those.
To Philo the Theban, who had been his host and given him entertainment
while he remained an hostage at Thebes, and afterwards refused to
accept any present from him, he said: Do not take from me the title of
invincible, by making me inferior to you in kindness and bounty. Having
taken many prisoners, he was selling them, sitting in an unseemly
posture, with his tunic tucked up; when one of the captives to be sold
cried out, Spare me, Philip, for our fathers were friends. When Philip
asked him, Prithee, how or from whence? Let me come nearer, said he,
and I’ll tell you. When he was come up to him, he said: Let down your
cloak a little lower, for you sit indecently. Whereupon said Philip:
Let him go, in truth he wisheth me well and is my friend, though I
did not know him. Being invited to supper, he carried many he took up
by the way along with him; and perceiving his host troubled (for his
provision was not sufficient), he sent to each of his friends, and
bade them reserve a place for the cake. They, believing and expecting
it, ate little, and so the supper was enough for all. It appeared he
grieved much at the death of Hipparchus the Euboean. For when somebody
said it was time for him to die,—For himself, said he, but he died
too soon for me, preventing me by his death from returning him the
kindness his friendship deserved. Hearing that Alexander blamed him
for having children by several women, Therefore, saith he to him,
since you have many rivals with you for the kingdom, be just and
honorable, that you may not receive the kingdom as my gift, but by
your own merit. He charged him to be observant of Aristotle, and study
philosophy, That you may not, said he, do many things which I now
repent of doing. He made one of Antipater’s recommendation a judge;
and perceiving afterwards that his hair and beard were colored, he
removed him, saying, I could not think one that was faithless in his
hair could be trusty in his deeds. As he sate judge in the cause of one
Machaetas, he fell asleep, and for want of minding his arguments, gave
judgment against him. And when being enraged he cried out, I appeal;
To whom, said he, wilt thou appeal? To you yourself, O king, said he,
when you are awake to hear me with attention. Then Philip rousing and
coming to himself, and perceiving Machaetas was injured, although he
did not reverse the sentence, he paid the fine himself. When Harpalus,
in behalf of Crates his kinsman and intimate friend, who was charged
with disgraceful crimes, begged that Crates might pay the fine and so
cause the action to be withdrawn and avoid public disgrace;—It is
better, said he, that he should be reproached upon his own account,
than we for him. His friends being enraged because the Peloponnesians,
to whom he had shown favor, hissed at him in the Olympic games, What
then, said he, would they do if we should abuse them? Awaking after
he had overslept himself in the army; I slept, said he, securely, for
Antipater watched. Another time, being asleep in the day-time, while
the Grecians fretting with impatience thronged at the gates; Do not
wonder, said Parmenio to them, if Philip be now asleep, for while you
slept he was awake. When he corrected a musician at a banquet, and
discoursed with him concerning notes and instruments, the musician
replied: Far be that dishonor from your majesty, that you should
understand these things better than I do. While he was at variance with
his wife Olympia and his son, Demaratus the Corinthian came to him, and
Philip asked him how the Grecians held together. Demaratus replied:
You had need to enquire how the Grecians agree, who agree so well
with your nearest relations. Whereupon he let fall his anger, and was
reconciled to them. A poor old woman petitioned and dunned him often
to hear her cause; and he answered, I am not at leisure; the old woman
bawled out, Do not reign then. He admired the speech, and immediately
heard her and others.

ALEXANDER. While Alexander was a boy, Philip had great success in
his affairs, at which he did not rejoice, but told the children that
were brought up with him, My father will leave me nothing to do. The
children answered, Your father gets all this for you. But what good,
saith he, will it do me, if I possess much and do nothing? Being
nimble and light-footed, his father encouraged him to run in the
Olympic race; Yes, said he, if there were any kings there to run with
me. A wench being brought to lie with him late in the evening, he
asked why she tarried so long. She answered, I staid until my husband
was abed; and he sharply reproved his pages, because through their
carelessness he had almost committed adultery. As he was sacrificing
to the Gods liberally, and often offered frankincense, Leonidas his
tutor standing by said, O son, thus generously will you sacrifice, when
you have conquered the country that bears frankincense. And when he
had conquered it, he sent him this letter: I have sent you an hundred
talents of frankincense and cassia, that hereafter you may not be
niggardly towards the Gods, when you understand I have conquered the
country in which perfumes grow. The night before he fought at the river
Granicus, he exhorted the Macedonians to sup plentifully and to bring
out all they had, as they were to sup the next day at the charge of
their enemies. Perillus, one of his friends, begged of him portions for
his daughters; and he ordered him to receive fifty talents. And when he
said, Ten were enough, Alexander replied: Enough for you to receive,
but not for me to give. He commanded his steward to give Anaxarchus
the philosopher as much as he should ask for. He asketh, said the
steward, for an hundred talents. He doth well, said he, knowing he
hath a friend that both can and will bestow so much on him. Seeing at
Miletus many statues of wrestlers that had overcome in the Olympic and
Pythian games, And where, said he, were these lusty fellows when the
barbarians assaulted your city? When Ada queen of Caria was ambitious
often to send him sauces and sweetmeats delicately prepared by the best
cooks and artists, he said, I have better confectioners of my own,
viz., my night-travelling for my breakfast, and my spare breakfast for
my dinner. All things being prepared for a fight, his captains asked
him whether he had any thing else to command them. Nothing, said he,
but that the Macedonians should shave their beards. Parmenio wondering
at it, Do you not know, said he, there is no better hold in a fight
than the beard? When Darius offered him ten thousand talents, and to
divide Asia equally with him; I would accept it, said Parmenio, were I
Alexander. And so truly would I, said Alexander, if I were Parmenio.
But he answered Darius, that the earth could not bear two suns, nor
Asia two kings. When he was going to fight for the world at Arbela,
against ten hundred thousand enemies set in array against him, some of
his friends came to him, and told him the discourse of the soldiers
in their tents, who had agreed that nothing of the spoils should be
brought into the treasury, but they would have all themselves. You tell
me good news, said he, for I hear the discourse of men that intend to
fight, and not to run away. Several of his soldiers came to him and
said: O King! be of good courage, and fear not the multitude of your
enemies, for they will not be able to endure the very stink of our
sweat. The army being marshalled, he saw a soldier fitting his thong
to his javelin, and dismissed him as a useless fellow, for fitting his
weapons when he should use them. As he was reading a letter from his
mother, containing secrets and accusations of Antipater, Hephaestion
also (as he was wont) read it along with him. Alexander did not hinder
him; but when the letter was read, he took his ring off his finger, and
laid the seal of it upon Hephaestion’s mouth. Being saluted as the son
of Jupiter in the temple of Ammon by the chief priest; It is no wonder,
said he, for Jupiter is by nature the father of all, and calls the best
men his sons. When he was wounded with an arrow in the ankle, and many
ran to him that were wont to call him a God, he said smiling: That is
blood, as you see, and not, as Homer saith,—

    Such humor as distils from blessed Gods.[110]

To some that commended the frugality of Antipater, whose diet was sober
and without luxury; Outwardly, said he, Antipater wears white clothes,
but within he is all purple. In a cold winter day one of his friends
invited him to a banquet, and there being a little fire on a small
hearth, he bid him fetch either wood or frankincense. Antipatridas
brought a beautiful singing woman to supper with him; Alexander, being
taken with her visage, asked Antipatridas whether she was his miss
or not. And when he confessed she was; O villain, said he, turn her
immediately out from the banquet. Again, when Cassander forced a kiss
from Pytho, a boy beloved by Evius the piper, and Alexander perceived
that Evius was concerned at it, he was extremely enraged at Cassander,
and said with a loud voice, It seems nobody must be loved if you can
help it. When he sent such of the Macedonians as were sick and maimed
to the sea, they showed him one that was in health and yet subscribed
his name among the sick; being brought into the presence and examined,
he confessed he used that pretence for the love of Telesippa, who was
going to the sea. Alexander asked, of whom he could make inquiries
about this Telesippa, and hearing she was a free woman, he said.
Therefore, my Antigenes, let us persuade her to stay with us, for to
force her to do so when she is a free woman is not according to my
custom. Of the mercenary Grecians that fought against him he took many
prisoners. He commanded the Athenians should be kept in chains, because
they served for wages when they were allowed a public maintenance; and
the Thessalians, because when they had a fruitful country they did not
till it; but he set the Thebans free, saying, To them only I have left
neither city nor country. He took captive an excellent Indian archer
that said he could shoot an arrow through a ring, and commanded him
to show his skill; and when the man refused to do this, he commanded
him in a rage to be put to death. The man told them that led him to
execution that, not having practised for many days, he was afraid he
should miss. Alexander, hearing this, wondered at him and dismissed
him with rewards, because he chose rather to die than show himself
unworthy of his reputation. Taxiles, one of the Indian kings, met
Alexander, and advised him not to make war nor fight with him, but if
he were a meaner person than himself, to receive kindness from him, or
if he were a better man, to show kindness to him. He answered, that
was the very thing they must fight for, who should exceed the other
in bounty. When he heard the rock called Aornus in India was by its
situation impregnable, but the commander of it was a coward; Then, said
he, the place is easy to be taken. Another, commanding a rock thought
to be invincible, surrendered himself and the rock to Alexander, who
committed the said rock and the adjacent country to his government,
saying: I take this for a wise man, who chose rather to commit himself
to a good man than to a strong place. When the rock was taken, his
friends said that it exceeded the deeds of Hercules. But I, said he, do
not think my actions and all my empire to be compared with one word of
Hercules. He fined some of his friends whom he caught playing at dice
in earnest. Of his chief and most powerful friends, he seemed most to
respect Craterus, and to love Hephaestion. Craterus, said he, is the
friend of the king; but Hephaestion is the friend of Alexander. He sent
fifty talents to Xenocrates the philosopher, who would not receive
them, saying he was not in want. And he asked whether Xenocrates had
no friend either; For as to myself, said he, the treasure of Darius
is hardly sufficient for me to bestow among my friends. He demanded
of Porus, after the fight, how he should treat him. Royally, said he,
like a king. And being again asked, what farther he had to request;
All things, said he, are in that word _royally_. Admiring his wisdom
and valor, he gave him a greater government than he had before. Being
told a certain person reviled him, To do good, said he, and to be evil
spoken of is kingly. As he was dying, looking upon his friends, I
see, said he, my funeral tournament will be great. When he was dead,
Demades the rhetorician likened the Macedonian army without a general
to Polyphemus the Cyclops when his eye was put out.

PTOLEMY. Ptolemy, the son of Lagus, frequently supped with his friends
and lay at their houses; and if at any time he invited them to supper,
he made use of their furniture, sending for vessels, carpets, and
tables; for he himself had only things that were of constant use about
him, saying it was more becoming a king to make others rich than to be
rich himself.

ANTIGONUS. Antigonus exacted money severely. When one told him that
Alexander did not do so, It may be so, said he; Alexander reaped Asia,
and I but glean after him. Seeing some soldiers playing at ball in
head-pieces and breast-plates, he was pleased, and sent for their
officers, intending to commend them; but when he heard the officers
were drinking, he bestowed their commands on the soldiers. When all
men wondered that in his old age his government was mild and easy;
Formerly, said he, I sought for power, but now for glory and good-will.
To Philip his son, who asked him in the presence of many when the
army would march, What, said he, are you afraid that you only should
not hear the trumpet? The same young man being desirous to quarter at
a widow’s house that had three handsome daughters, Antigonus called
the quartermaster to him: Prithee, said he, help my son out of these
straits. Recovering from a slight disease, he said: No harm; this
distemper puts me in mind not to aim at great things, since we are
mortal. Hermodotus in his poems called him Son of the Sun. He that
attends my close-stool, said he, sings me no such song. When one said,
All things in kings are just and honorable,—Indeed, said he, for
barbarian kings; but for us only honorable things are honorable, and
only just things are just. Marsyas his brother had a cause depending,
and requested him it might be examined at his house. Nay, said he, it
shall be heard in the judgment-hall, that all may hear whether we do
exact justice or not. In the winter being forced to pitch his camp
where necessaries were scarce, some of his soldiers reproached him, not
knowing he was near. He opened the tent with his cane, saying: Woe be
to you, unless you get you farther off when you revile me. Aristodemus,
one of his friends, supposed to be a cook’s son, advised him to
moderate his gifts and expenses. Thy words, said he, Aristodemus, smell
of the apron. The Athenians, out of a respect to him, gave one of his
servants the freedom of their city. And I would not, said he, have any
Athenian whipped by my command. A youth, scholar to Anaximenes the
rhetorician, spoke in his presence a prepared and studied speech; and
he asking something which he desired to learn, the youth was silent.
What do you say, said he, is all that you have said written in your
table-book? When he heard another rhetorician say, The snow-spread
season makes the country fodder spent; Will you not stop, said he,
prating to me as you do to the rabble? Thrasyllus the Cynic begged a
drachm of him. That, said he, is too little for a king to give. Why
then, said the other, give me a talent. And that, said he, is too much
for a Cynic (or for a _dog_) to receive. Sending his son Demetrius with
ships and land-forces to make Greece free; Glory, said he, from Greece,
as from a watch-tower, will shine throughout the world. Antagoras the
poet was boiling a conger, and Antigonus, coming behind him as he was
stirring his skillet, said: Do you think, Antagoras, that Homer boiled
congers, when he wrote the deeds of Agamemnon? Antagoras replied: Do
you think, O King, that Agamemnon, when he did such exploits, was a
peeping in his army to see who boiled congers? After he had seen in a
dream Mithridates mowing a golden harvest, he designed to kill him,
and acquainted Demetrius his son with his design, making him swear to
conceal it. But Demetrius, taking Mithridates aside and walking with
him by the seaside, with the pick of his spear wrote on the shore,
“Fly, Mithridates;” which he understanding, fled into Pontus, and there
reigned until his death.

DEMETRIUS. Demetrius, while he was besieging Rhodes, found in one of
the suburbs the picture of Ialysus made by Protogenes the painter.
The Rhodians sent a herald to him, beseeching him not to deface the
picture. I will sooner, said he, deface my father’s statues, than such
a picture. When he made a league with the Rhodians, he left behind him
an engine, called the City Taker, that it might be a memorial of his
magnificence and of their courage. When the Athenians rebelled, and
he took the city, which had been distressed for want of provision, he
called an assembly and gave them corn. And while he made a speech to
them concerning that affair, he spoke improperly; and when one that
sat by told him how the word ought to be spoken, he said: For this
correction I bestow upon you five thousand bushels more.

ANTIGONUS THE SECOND. Antigonus the Second—when his father was a
prisoner, and sent one of his friends to admonish him to pay no regard
to any thing that he might write at the constraint of Seleucus, and to
enter into no obligation to surrender up the cities—wrote to Seleucus
that he would give up his whole kingdom, and himself for an hostage,
that his father might be set free. Being about to fight by sea with the
lieutenants of Ptolemy, and the pilot telling him the enemy outnumbered
him in ships, he said: But how many ships do you reckon my presence to
be worth? Once when he gave ground, his enemies pressing upon him, he
denied that he fled; but he betook himself (as he said) to an advantage
that lay behind him. To a youth, son of a valiant father, but himself
no very great soldier, petitioning he might receive his father’s
pay; Young man, said he, I pay and reward men for their own, not for
their fathers’ valor. When Zeno of Citium, whom he admired beyond all
philosophers, died, he said, The theatre of my actions is fallen.

LYSIMACHUS. Lysimachus, when he was overcome by Dromichaetas in Thrace
and constrained by thirst, surrendered himself and his army. When
he was a prisoner, and had drunk; O Gods, said he, for how small a
satisfaction have I made myself a slave from a king! To Philippides the
comedian, his friend and companion, he said. What have I that I may
impart to you? He answered, What you please, except your secrets.

ANTIPATER. Antipater, hearing that Parmenio was slain by Alexander,
said: If Parmenio conspired against Alexander, whom may we trust? but
if he did not, what is to be done? Of Demades the rhetorician, now
grown old, he said: As of sacrifices when finished, so there is nothing
left of him but his belly and tongue.

ANTIOCHUS THE THIRD. Antiochus the Third wrote to the cities, that if
he should at any time write for any thing to be done contrary to the
law, they should not obey, but suppose it to be done out of ignorance.
When he saw the Priestess of Diana, that she was exceeding beautiful,
he presently removed from Ephesus, lest he should be swayed, contrary
to his judgment, to commit some unholy act.

ANTIOCHUS HIERAX. Antiochus, surnamed the Hawk, warred with his brother
Seleucus for the kingdom. After Seleucus was overcome by the Galatians,
and was not to be heard of, but supposed to be slain in the fight, he
laid aside his purple and went into mourning. A while after, hearing
his brother was safe, he sacrificed to the Gods for the good news, and
caused the cities under his dominion to put on garlands.

EUMENES. Eumenes was thought to be slain by a conspiracy of Perseus.
That report being brought to Pergamus, Attalus his brother put on
the crown, married his wife, and took upon him the kingdom. Hearing
afterwards his brother was alive and upon the way, he met him, as he
used to do, with his life-guard, and a spear in his hand. Eumenes
embraced him kindly, and whispered in his ear:—

    If a widow you will wed,
    Wait till you’re sure her husband’s dead.[111]

But he never afterwards did or spake any thing that showed any
suspicion all his lifetime; but when he died, he bequeathed to him his
queen and kingdom. In requital of which, his brother bred up none of
his own children, although he had many; but when the son of Eumenes was
grown up, he bestowed the kingdom on him in his own lifetime.

PYRRHUS THE EPIROT. Pyrrhus was asked by his sons, when they were boys,
to whom he would leave the kingdom. To him of you, saith he, that hath
the sharpest sword. Being asked whether Pytho or Caphisius was the
better piper, Polysperchon, said he, is the best general. He joined in
battle with the Romans, and twice overcame them, but with the loss of
many friends and captains. If I should overcome the Romans, said he,
in another fight, I were undone. Not being able to keep Sicily (as he
said) from them, turning to his friends he said: What a fine wrestling
ring do we leave to the Romans and Carthaginians! His soldiers called
him Eagle; And I may deserve the title, said he, while I am borne
upon the wings of your arms. Hearing some young men had spoken many
reproachful words of him in their drink, he summoned them all to appear
before him next day; when they appeared, he asked the foremost whether
they spake such things of him or not. The young man answered: Such
words were spoken, O King, and more we had spoken, if we had had more
wine.

ANTIOCHUS. Antiochus, who twice made an inroad into Parthia, as he
was once a hunting, lost his friends and servants in the pursuit, and
went into a cottage of poor people who did not know him. As they were
at supper, he threw out discourse concerning the king; they said for
the most part he was a good prince, but overlooked many things he left
to the management of debauched courtiers, and out of love of hunting
often neglected his necessary affairs; and there they stopped. At break
of day the guard arrived at the cottage, and the king was recognized
when the crown and purple robes were brought. From the day, said he,
on which I first received these, I never heard truth concerning myself
till yesterday. When he besieged Jerusalem, the Jews, in respect of
their great festival, begged of him seven days’ truce; which he not
only granted, but preparing oxen with gilded horns, with a great
quantity of incense and perfumes, he went before them to the very
gates, and having delivered them as a sacrifice to their priests, he
returned back to his army. The Jews wondered at him, and as soon as
their festival was finished, surrendered themselves to him.

THEMISTOCLES. Themistocles in his youth was much given to wine and
women. But after Miltiades the general overcame the Persian at
Marathon, Themistocles utterly forsook his former disorders; and to
such as wondered at the change, he said, The trophy of Miltiades will
neither suffer me to sleep nor to be idle. Being asked whether he would
rather be Achilles or Homer,—And pray, said he, which would you rather
be, a conqueror in the Olympic games, or the crier that proclaims who
are conquerors? When Xerxes with that great navy made a descent upon
Greece, he fearing, if Epicydes (a popular, but a covetous, corrupt,
and cowardly person) were made general, the city might be lost, bribed
him with a sum of money to desist from that pretence. Adimantus was
afraid to hazard a sea-fight, whereunto Themistocles persuaded and
encouraged the Grecians. O Themistocles, said he, those that start
before their time in the Olympic games are always scourged. Aye; but,
Adimantus, said the other, they that are left behind are not crowned.
Eurybiades lifted up his cane at him, as if he would strike him.
Strike, said he, but hear me. When he could not persuade Eurybiades to
fight in the straits of the sea, he sent privately to Xerxes, advising
him that he need not fear the Grecians, for they were running away.
Xerxes upon this persuasion, fighting in a place advantageous for the
Grecians, was worsted; and then he sent him another message, and bade
him fly with all speed over the Hellespont, for the Grecians designed
to break down his bridge; that under pretence of saving him he might
secure the Grecians. A man from the little island Seriphus told him,
he was famous not upon his own account but through the city where he
lived. You say true, said he, for if I had been a Seriphian, I had not
been famous; nor would you, if you had been an Athenian. To Antiphatus,
a beautiful person that avoided and despised Themistocles when he
formerly loved him, but came to him and flattered him when he was in
great power and esteem; Hark you, lad, said he, though late, yet both
of us are wise at last. To Simonides desiring him to give an unjust
sentence, You would not be a good poet, said he, if you should sing
out of tune; nor I a good governor, if I should give judgment contrary
to law. When his son was a little saucy towards his mother, he said
that this boy had more power than all the Grecians, for the Athenians
governed Greece, he the Athenians, his wife him, and his son his wife.
He preferred an honest man that wooed his daughter, before a rich man.
I would rather, said he, have a man that wants money, than money that
wants a man. Having a farm to sell, he bid the crier proclaim also
that it had a good neighbor. When the Athenians reviled him; Why do
you complain, said he, that the same persons so often befriend you?
And he compared himself to a row of plane-trees, under which in a
storm passengers run for shelter, but in fair weather they pluck the
leaves off and abuse them. Scoffing at the Eretrians, he said, Like
the sword-fish, they have a sword indeed, but no heart. Being banished
first out of Athens and afterwards out of Greece, he betook himself
to the king of Persia, who bade him speak his mind. Speech, he said,
was like to tapestry; and like it, when it was spread, it showed
its figures, but when it was folded up, hid and spoiled them. And
therefore he requested time until he might learn the Persian tongue,
and could explain himself without an interpreter. Having there received
great presents, and being enriched of a sudden; O lads, said he to his
sons, we had been undone if we had not been undone.

MYRONIDES. Myronides summoned the Athenians to fight against the
Boeotians. When the time was almost come, and the captains told him
they were not near all come out; They are come, said he, all that
intend to fight. And marching while their spirits were up, he overcame
his enemies.

ARISTIDES. Aristides the Just always managed his offices himself, and
avoided all political clubs, because power gotten by the assistance of
friends was an encouragement to the unjust. When the Athenians were
fully bent to banish him by an ostracism, an illiterate country fellow
came to him with his shell, and asked him to write in it the name of
Aristides. Friend, said he, do you know Aristides? Not I, said the
fellow, but I do not like his surname of Just. He said no more, but
wrote his name in the shell and gave it him. He was at variance with
Themistocles, who was sent on an embassy with him. Are you content,
said he, Themistocles, to leave our enmity at the borders? and if you
please, we will take it up again at our return. When he levied an
assessment upon the Greeks, he returned poorer by so much as he spent
in the journey.

Aeschylus wrote these verses on Amphiaraus:—

    His shield no emblem bears; his generous soul
    Wishes to be, not to appear, the best;
    While the deep furrows of his noble mind
    Harvests of wise and prudent counsel bear.[112]

And when they were pronounced in the theatre, all turned their eyes
upon Aristides.

PERICLES. Whenever he entered on his command as general, while he was
putting on his war-cloak, he used thus to bespeak himself: Remember,
Pericles, you govern freemen, Grecians, Athenians. He advised the
Athenians to demolish Aegina, as a dangerous eyesore to the haven of
Piraeus. To a friend that wanted him to bear false witness and to bind
the same with an oath, he said: I am a friend only as far as the altar.
When he lay on his death-bed, he blessed himself that no Athenian ever
went into mourning upon his account.

ALCIBIADES. Alcibiades while he was a boy, wrestling in a ring, seeing
he could not break his adversary’s hold, bit him by the hand; who cried
out, You bite like a woman. Not so, said he, but like a lion. He had a
very handsome dog, that cost him seven thousand drachmas; and he cut
off his tail, that, said he, the Athenians may have this story to tell
of me, and may concern themselves no farther with me. Coming into a
school, he called for Homer’s Iliads; and when the master told him he
had none of Homer’s works, he gave him a box on the ear, and went his
way. He came to Pericles’s gate, and being told he was busy a preparing
his accounts to be given to the people of Athens, Had he not better,
said he, contrive how he might give no account at all? Being summoned
by the Athenians out of Sicily to plead for his life, he absconded,
saying, that criminal was a fool who studied a defence when he might
fly for it. But, said one, will you not trust your country with your
cause? No, said he, nor my mother either, lest she mistake and cast a
black pebble instead of a white one. When he heard death was decreed
to him and his associates, Let us convince them, said he, that we are
alive. And passing over to Lacedaemon, he stirred up the Decelean war
against the Athenians.

LAMACHUS. Lamachus chid a captain for a fault; and when he had said he
would do so no more, Sir, said he, in war there is no room for a second
miscarriage.

IPHICRATES. Iphicrates was despised because he was thought to be a
shoemaker’s son. The exploit that first brought him into repute was
this: when he was wounded himself, he caught up one of the enemies and
carried him alive and in his armor to his own ship. He once pitched his
camp in a country belonging to his allies and confederates, and yet he
fortified it exactly with a trench and bulwark. Said one to him, What
are ye afraid of? Of all speeches, said he, none is so dishonorable
for a general, as I should not have thought it. As he marshalled his
army to fight with barbarians, I am afraid, said he, they do not
know Iphicrates, for his very name used to strike terror into other
enemies. Being accused of a capital crime, he said to the informer:
O fellow! what art thou doing, who, when war is at hand, dost advise
the city to consult concerning me, and not with me? To Harmodius,
descended from the ancient Harmodius, when he reviled him for his mean
birth, My nobility, said he, begins in me, but yours ends in you. A
rhetorician asked him in an assembly, who he was that he took so much
upon him,—horseman, or footman, or archer, or shield-bearer. Neither
of them, said he, but one that understands how to command all those.

TIMOTHEUS. Timotheus was reputed a successful general, and some that
envied him painted cities falling under his net of their own accord,
while he was asleep. Said Timotheus, If I take such cities when I am
asleep, what do you think I shall do when I am awake? A confident
commander showed the Athenians a wound he had received. But I, said
he, when I was your general in Samos, was ashamed that a dart from an
engine fell near me. The orators set up Chares as one they thought fit
to be general of the Athenians. Not to be general, said Timotheus, but
to carry the general’s baggage.

CHABRIAS. Chabrias said, they were the best commanders who best
understood the affairs of their enemies. He was once indicted for
treason with Iphicrates, who blamed him for exposing himself to danger,
by going to the place of exercise, and dining at his usual hour. If
the Athenians, said he, deal severely with us, you will die all foul
and gut-foundered; I’ll die clean and anointed, with my dinner in my
belly. He was wont to say, that an army of stags, with a lion for their
commander, was more formidable than an army of lions led by a stag.

HEGESIPPUS. When Hegesippus, surnamed Crobylus (i.e. _Top-knot_),
instigated the Athenians against Philip, one of the assembly cried
out, You would not persuade us to a war? Yes, indeed, would I, said
he, and to mourning clothes and to public funerals and to funeral
speeches, if we intend to live free and not submit to the pleasure of
the Macedonians.

PYTHEAS. Pytheas, when he was a young man, stood forth to oppose the
decrees made concerning Alexander. One said: Have you, young man, the
confidence to speak in such weighty affairs? And why not? said he:
Alexander, whom you voted a God, is younger than I am.

PHOCION. Phocion the Athenian was never seen to laugh or cry. In an
assembly one told him, You seem to be thoughtful, Phocion. You guess
right, said he, for I am contriving how to contract what I have to
say to the people of Athens. The Oracle told the Athenians, there was
one man in the city of a contrary judgment to all the rest; and the
Athenians in a hubbub ordered search to be made, who this should be.
I, said Phocion, am the man; I alone am pleased with nothing the common
people say or do. Once when he had delivered an opinion which pleased
the people, and perceived it was entertained by a general consent,
he turned to his friend, and said: Have I not unawares spoken some
mischievous thing or other? The Athenians gathered a benevolence for a
certain sacrifice; and when others contributed to it, he being often
spoken to said: I should be ashamed to give to you, and not to pay this
man,—pointing to one of his creditors. Demosthenes the orator told
him, If the Athenians should be mad, they would kill you. Like enough,
said he, me if they were mad, but you if they were wise. Aristogiton
the informer, being condemned and ready to be executed in prison,
entreated that Phocion would come to him. And when his friends would
not suffer him to go to so vile a person; And where, said he, would you
discourse with Aristogiton more pleasantly? The Athenians were offended
with the Byzantines, for refusing to receive Chares into their city,
who was sent with forces to assist them against Philip. Said Phocion,
You ought not to be displeased with the distrust of your confederates,
but with your commanders that are not to be trusted. Whereupon he was
chosen general, and being trusted by the Byzantines, he forced Philip
to return without his errand. King Alexander sent him a present of a
hundred talents; and he asked those that brought it, what it should
mean that, of all the Athenians, Alexander should be thus kind to him.
They answered, because he esteemed him alone to be a worthy and upright
person. Pray therefore, said he, let him suffer me to seem as well as
to be so. Alexander sent to them for some ships, and the people calling
for Phocion by name, bade him speak his opinion. He stood up and told
them: I advise you either to conquer yourselves, or else to side with
the conqueror. An uncertain rumor happened, that Alexander was dead.
Immediately the orators leaped into the pulpit, and advised them to
make war without delay; but Phocion entreated them to tarry awhile
and know the certainty: For, said he, if he is dead to-day, he will
be dead to-morrow, and so forwards. Leosthenes hurried the city into
a war, with fond hopes conceited at the name of liberty and command.
Phocion compared his speeches to cypress-trees; They are tall, said
he, and comely, but bear no fruit. However, the first attempts were
successful; and when the city was sacrificing for the good news, he was
asked whether he did not wish he had done this himself. I would, said
he, have done what has been done, but have advised what I did. When the
Macedonians invaded Attica and plundered the seacoasts, he drew out
the youth. When many came to him and generally persuaded him by all
means to possess himself of such an ascent, and thereon to marshal his
army, O Hercules! said he, how many commanders do I see, and how few
soldiers? Yet he fought and overcame, and slew Nicion, the commander
of the Macedonians. But in a short time the Athenians were overcome,
and admitted a garrison sent by Antipater. Menyllus, the governor of
that garrison, offered money to Phocion, who was enraged thereby and
said: This man is no better than Alexander; and what I refused then I
can with less honor receive now. Antipater said, of the two friends he
had at Athens, he could never persuade Phocion to accept a present, nor
could he ever satisfy Demades with presents. When Antipater requested
him to do some indirect thing or other, Antipater, said he, you cannot
have Phocion for your friend and flatterer too. After the death of
Antipater, democracy was established in Athens, and the assembly
decreed the death of Phocion and his friends. The rest were led weeping
to execution; but as Phocion passed silently, one of his enemies met
him and spat in his face. But he turned himself to the magistrates,
and said, Will nobody restrain this insolent fellow? One of those that
were to suffer with him lamented and took on: Why, Euippus, said he,
are you not pleased that you die with Phocion? When the cup of hemlock
was brought to him, being asked whether he had any thing to say to
his son; I command you, said he, and entreat you not to think of any
revenge upon the Athenians.

PISISTRATUS. Pisistratus, tyrant of Athens, when some of his party
revolted from him and possessed themselves of Phyle, came to them
bearing his baggage on his back. They asked him what he meant by it.
Either, said he, to persuade you to return with me, or if I cannot
persuade you, to tarry with you; and therefore I come prepared
accordingly. An accusation was brought to him against his mother, that
she was in love and used secret familiarity with a young man, who
out of fear for the most part refused her. This young man he invited
to supper, and as they were at supper asked him how he liked his
entertainment. He answered, Very well. Thus, said he, you shall be
treated daily, if you please my mother. Thrasybulus was in love with
his daughter, and as he met her, kissed her; whereupon his wife would
have incensed him against Thrasybulus. If, said he, we hate those that
love us, what shall we do to them that hate us?—and he gave the maid
in marriage to Thrasybulus. Some lascivious drunken persons by chance
met his wife, and used unseemly speech and behavior to her; but the
next day they begged his pardon with tears. As for you, said he, learn
to be sober for the future; but as for my wife, yesterday she was not
abroad at all. He designed to marry another wife, and his children
asked him whether he could blame them for any thing. By no means, said
he, but I commend you, and desire to have more such children as you
are.

DEMETRIUS PHALEREUS. Demetrius Phalereus persuaded King Ptolemy to get
and study such books as treated of government and conduct; for those
things are written in books which the friends of kings dare not advise.

LYCURGUS. Lycurgus the Lacedaemonian brought long hair into fashion
among his countrymen, saying that it rendered those that were handsome
more beautiful, and those that were deformed more terrible. To one
that advised him to set up a democracy in Sparta, Pray, said he, do
you first set up a democracy in your own house. He ordained that
houses should be built with saws and axes only, thinking they would be
ashamed to bring plate, tapestry, and costly tables into such pitiful
houses. He forbade them to contend at boxing or in the double contest
of boxing and wrestling, that they might not accustom themselves to
be conquered, no, not so much as in jest. He forbade them also to war
often against the same people, lest they should make them the more
warlike. Accordingly, many years after, when Agesilaus was wounded,
Antalcidas told him the Thebans had rewarded him worthily for teaching
and accustoming them to war, whether they would or no.

CHARILLUS. King Charillus, being asked why Lycurgus made so few laws,
answered, They who use few words do not need many laws. When one of the
Helots behaved rather too insolently towards him, By Castor and Pollux,
said he, I would kill you, were I not angry. To one that asked him why
the Spartans wore long hair, Because, said he, of all ornaments that is
the cheapest.

TELECLUS. King Teleclus, when his brother inveighed against the
citizens for not giving him that respect which they did to the king,
said to him, No wonder, you do not know how to bear injury.

THEOPOMPUS. Theopompus, to one that showed him the walls of a city and
asked him if they were not high and beautiful, answered, No, not even
if they are built for women.

ARCHIDAMUS. Archidamus, in the Peloponnesian war, when his allies
requested him to appoint them their quota of tributes, replied, War has
a very irregular appetite.

BRASIDAS. Brasidas caught a mouse among his dried figs, which bit him,
and he let it go. Whereupon, turning to the company, Nothing, said
he, is so small which may not save itself, if it have the valor to
defend itself against its aggressors. In a fight he was shot through
his shield, and plucking the spear out of his wound, with the same he
slew his adversary. When he was asked how he came to be wounded, My
shield, said he, betrayed me. It was his fortune to be slain in battle,
as he endeavored to liberate the Grecians that were in Thrace. These
sent an embassy to Lacedaemon, which made a visit to his mother, who
first asked them whether Brasidas died honorably. When the Thracians
praised him, and affirmed that there would never be such another man,
My friends, said she, you are mistaken; Brasidas indeed was a valiant
man, but Lacedaemon hath many more valiant men than he.

AGIS. King Agis said, The Lacedaemonians are not wont to ask how many,
but where the enemy are. At Mantinea he was advised not to fight the
enemy that exceeded him in number. It is necessary, said he, for him to
fight with many, who would rule over many. The Eleans were commended
for managing the Olympic games honorably. What wonder, said he, do they
do, if one day in four years they do justice? When the same persons
enlarged in their commendation, What wonder is it, said he, if they use
justice honorably, which is an honorable thing? To a lewd person, that
often asked who was the best man among the Spartans, he answered, He
that is most unlike you. When another asked what was the number of the
Lacedaemonians,—Sufficient, said he, to defend themselves from wicked
men. To another that asked him the same question, If you should see
them fight, said he, you would think them to be many.

LYSANDER. Dionysius the Tyrant presented Lysander’s daughters with rich
garments, which he refused to accept, saying he feared they would seem
more deformed in them. To such as blamed him for managing much of his
affairs by stratagems, which was unworthy of Hercules from whom he was
descended, he answered, Where the lion’s skin will not reach, it must
be pieced with the fox’s. When the citizens of Argos seemed to make out
a better title than the Lacedaemonians to a country that was in dispute
between them, drawing his sword, He that is master of this, said he,
can best dispute about bounds of countries. When the Lacedaemonians
delayed to assault the walls of Corinth, and he saw a hare leap out of
the trench; Do you fear, said he, such enemies as these, whose laziness
suffers hares to sleep on their walls? To an inhabitant of Megara, that
in a parley spoke confidently unto him, Your words, said he, want the
breeding of the city.

AGESILAUS. Agesilaus said that the inhabitants of Asia were bad freemen
and good servants. When they were wont to call the king of Persia
the Great King, Wherein, said he, is he greater than I, if he is not
more just and wise than I am? Being asked which was better, valor or
justice, he answered, We should have no need of valor, if we were
all just. When he broke up his camp suddenly by night in the enemy’s
country, and saw a lad he loved left behind by reason of sickness,
and weeping, It is a hard thing, said he, to be pitiful and wise at
the same time. Menecrates the physician, surnamed Jupiter, inscribed
a letter to him thus: Menecrates Jupiter to King Agesilaus wisheth
joy. And he returned in answer: King Agesilaus to Menecrates wisheth
his wits. When the Lacedaemonians overcame the Athenians and their
confederates at Corinth, and he heard the number of the enemies that
were slain; Alas, said he, for Greece, who hath destroyed so many of
her men as were enough to have conquered all the barbarians together.
He had received an answer from the Oracle of Jupiter in Olympia, which
was to his satisfaction. Afterwards the Ephori bade him consult Apollo
in the same case; and to Delphi he went, and asked that God whether
he was of the same mind with his father. He interceded for one of his
friends with Idrieus of Caria, and wrote to him thus: If Nicias has not
offended, set him free; but if he is guilty, set him free for my sake;
by all means set him free. Being exhorted to hear one that imitated
the voice of a nightingale, I have often, said he, heard nightingales
themselves. The law ordained that such as ran away should be disgraced.
After the fight at Leuctra, the Ephori, seeing the city void of men,
were willing to dispense with that disgrace, and empowered Agesilaus to
make a law to that purpose. But he standing in the midst commanded that
after the next day the laws should remain in force as before. He was
sent to assist the king of Egypt, with whom he was besieged by enemies
that outnumbered his own forces; and when they had entrenched their
camp, the king commanded him to go out and fight them. Since, said he,
they intend to make themselves equal to us, I will not hinder them.
When the trench was almost finished, he drew up his men in the void
space, and so fighting with equal advantage he overcame them. When he
was dying, he charged his friends that no fiction or counterfeit (so he
called statues) should be made for him; For if, said he, I have done
any honorable exploit, that is my monument; but if I have done none,
all your statues will signify nothing.

ARCHIDAMUS. When Archidamus, the son of Agesilaus, beheld a dart to
be shot from an engine newly brought out of Sicily, he cried out, O
Hercules! the valor of man is at an end.

AGIS THE YOUNGER. Demades said, the Laconians’ swords were so small,
that jugglers might swallow them. That may be, said Agis, but the
Lacedaemonians can reach their enemies very well with them. The Ephori
ordered him to deliver his soldiers to a traitor. I will not, said he,
entrust him with strangers, who betrayed his own men.

CLEOMENES. To one that promised to give him hardy cocks, that would die
fighting, Prithee, said he, give me cocks that will kill fighting.

PAEDARETUS. Paedaretus, when he was not chosen among the Three Hundred
(which was the highest office and honor in the city), went away
cheerfully and smiling, saying, he was glad if the city had three
hundred better citizens than himself.

DAMONIDAS. Damonidas, being placed by him that ordered the chorus in
the last rank of it, said: Well done, you have found a way to make this
place also honorable.

NICOSTRATUS. Archidamus, general of the Argives, enticed Nicostratus
to betray a fort, by promises of a great sum, and the marriage of what
Lacedaemonian lady he pleased except the king’s daughters. He answered,
that Archidamus was none of the offspring of Hercules, for he went
about to punish wicked men, but Archidamus to corrupt honest men.

EUDAEMONIDAS. Eudaemonidas beholding Xenocrates, when he was old, in
the Academy reading philosophy to his scholars, and being told he was
in quest of virtue, asked: And when does he intend to practise it?
Another time, when he heard a philosopher arguing that only the wise
man can be a good general, This is a wonderful speech, said he, but he
that saith it never heard the sound of trumpets.

ANTIOCHUS. Antiochus being Ephor, when he heard Philip had given the
Messenians a country, asked whether he had granted them that they
should be victorious when they fought for that country.

ANTALCIDAS. To an Athenian that called the Lacedaemonians unlearned,
Therefore we alone, said Antalcidas, have learned no mischief of
you. To another Athenian that told him, Indeed, we have often driven
you from the Cephissus, he replied, But we never drove you from the
Eurotas. When a Sophist was beginning to recite the praise of Hercules;
And who, said he, ever spoke against him?

EPAMINONDAS. No panic fear ever surprised the army of the Thebans while
Epaminondas was their general. He said, to die in war was the most
honorable death, and the bodies of armed men ought to be exercised,
not as wrestlers, but in a warlike manner. Wherefore he hated fat
men, and dismissed one of them, saying, that three or four shields
would scarce serve to secure his belly, which would not suffer him
to see his members. He was so frugal in his diet that, being invited
by a neighbor to supper, and finding there dishes, ointments, and
junkets in abundance, he departed immediately, saying: I thought you
were sacrificing, and not displaying your luxury. When his cook gave
an account to his colleagues of the charges for several days, he was
offended only at the quantity of oil; and when his colleagues wondered
at him, I am not, said he, troubled at the charge, but that so much
oil should be received into my body. When the city kept a festival,
and all gave themselves to banquets and drinking, he was met by one of
his acquaintance unadorned and in a thoughtful posture. He wondering
asked him why he of all men should walk about in that manner. That all
of you, said he, may be drunk and revel securely. An ill man, that
had committed no great fault, he refused to discharge at the request
of Pelopidas; when his miss entreated for him, he dismissed him,
saying: Whores are fitting to receive such presents, and not generals.
The Lacedaemonians invaded the Thebans, and oracles were brought to
Thebes, some that promised victory, others that foretold an overthrow.
He ordered those to be placed on the right hand of the judgment seat,
and these on the left. When they were placed accordingly, he rose up
and said: If you will obey your commanders and unanimously resist your
enemies, these are your oracles,—pointing to the better; but if you
play the cowards, those,—pointing to the worser. Another time, as he
drew nigh to the enemy, it thundered, and some that were about him
asked him what he thought the Gods would signify by it. They signify,
said he, that the enemy is thunderstruck and demented, since he pitches
his camp in a bad place, when he was nigh to a better. Of all the
happy and prosperous events that befell him, he said that in this he
took most satisfaction, that he overcame the Lacedaemonians at Leuctra
while his father and mother, that begot him, were living. Whereas he
was wont to appear with his body anointed and a cheerful countenance,
the day after that fight he came abroad meanly habited and dejected;
and when his friends asked him whether any misfortune had befallen
him, No, said he, but yesterday I was pleased more than became a wise
man, and therefore to-day I chastise that immoderate joy. Perceiving
the Spartans concealed their disasters, and desiring to discover the
greatness of their loss, he did not give them leave to take away
their dead altogether, but allowed each city to bury its own; whereby
it appeared that above a thousand Lacedaemonians were slain. Jason,
monarch of Thessaly, was at Thebes as their confederate, and sent two
thousand pieces of gold to Epaminondas, then in great want; but he
refused the gold, and when he saw Jason, he said: You are the first to
commit violence. And borrowing fifty drachms of a citizen, with that
money to supply his army he invaded Peloponnesus. Another time, when
the Persian king sent him thirty thousand darics, he chid Diomedon
severely, asking him whether he sailed so far to bribe Epaminondas;
and bade him tell the king, as long as he wished the prosperity of
the Thebans, Epaminondas would be his friend gratis, but when he was
otherwise minded, his enemy. When the Argives were confederates with
the Thebans, the Athenian ambassadors then in Arcadia complained of
both, and Callistratus the orator reproached the cities with Orestes
and Oedipus. But Epaminondas stood up and said: We confess there hath
been one amongst us that killed his father, and among the Argives one
that killed his mother; but we banished those that did such things,
and the Athenians entertained them. To some Spartans that accused the
Thebans of many and great crimes, These indeed, said he, are they that
have put an end to your short dialect. The Athenians made friendship
and alliance with Alexander the tyrant of Pherae, who was an enemy to
the Thebans, and who had promised to furnish them with flesh at half
an obol a pound. And we, said Epaminondas, will supply them with wood
to that flesh gratis; for if they grow meddlesome, we will make bold
to cut all the wood in their country for them. Being desirous to keep
the Boeotians, that were grown rusty by idleness, always in arms, when
he was chosen their chief magistrate, he used to exhort them, saying:
Yet consider what you do, my friends; for if I am your general, you
must be my soldiers. He called their country, which was plain and open,
the stage of war, which they could keep no longer than their hands
were upon their shields. Chabrias, having slain a few Thebans near
Corinth, that engaged too hotly near the walls, erected a trophy, which
Epaminondas laughed at, saying, it was not a trophy, but a statue of
Trivia, which they usually placed in the highway before the gates. One
told him that the Athenians had sent an army into Peloponnesus adorned
with new armor. What then? said he, doth Antigenidas sigh because
Telles hath got new pipes? (Now Antigenidas was an excellent piper, but
Telles a vile one.) Understanding his shield-bearer had taken a great
deal of money from a prisoner, Come, said he, give me the shield, and
buy you a victualling-house to live in; for now you are grown rich
and wealthy, you will not hazard your life as you did formerly. Being
asked whether he thought himself or Chabrias or Iphicrates the better
general, It is hard, said he, to judge while we live. After he returned
out of Laconia, he was tried for his life, with his fellow-commanders,
for continuing Boeotarch four months longer than the law allowed. He
bade the other commanders lay the blame upon him, as if he had forced
them, and for himself, he said, his actions were his best speech; but
if any thing at all were to be answered to the judges, he entreated
them, if they put him to death, to write his fault upon his monument,
that the Grecians might know that Epaminondas compelled the Thebans
against their will to plunder and fire Laconia,—which in five hundred
years before had never suffered the like,—to build Messene two
hundred and thirty years after it was sacked, to unite the Arcadians,
and to restore liberty to Greece; for those things were done in that
expedition. Whereupon the judges arose with great laughter, and refused
even to receive the votes against him. In his last fight, being wounded
and carried into his tent, he called for Diaphantes and after him for
Iollidas; and when he heard they were slain, he advised the Thebans
to make their peace with the enemy, since they had never a general
left them; as by the event proved true. So well did he understand his
countrymen.

PELOPIDAS. Pelopidas, Epaminondas’s colleague, when his friends told
him that he neglected a necessary business, that was the gathering of
money, replied: In good deed money is necessary for this Nicomedas,
pointing to a lame man that could not go. As he was going out to fight,
his wife beseeched him to have a care of himself. To others you may
give this advice, said he; but a commander and general you must advise
that he should save his countrymen. A soldier told him, We are fallen
among the enemies. Said he, How are we fallen among them, more than
they among us? When Alexander, the tyrant of Pherae, broke his faith
and cast him into prison, he reviled him; and when the other told him
he did but hasten his death, That is my design, said he, that the
Thebans may be exasperated against you, and be revenged on you the
sooner. Thebe, the wife of the tyrant, came to him, and told him she
wondered to see him so merry in chains. He answered, he wondered more
at her, that she could endure Alexander without being chained. When
Epaminondas caused him to be released, he said: I thank Alexander, for
I have now found by trial that I have not only courage to fight, but to
die.




ROMAN APOPHTHEGMS.


M.’ CURIUS. When some blamed M.’ Curius for distributing but a small
part of a country he took from the enemy, and preserving the greater
part for the commonwealth, he prayed there might be no Roman who would
think that estate little which was enough to maintain him. The Samnites
after an overthrow came to him to offer him gold, and found him boiling
rape-roots. He answered the Samnites that he that could sup so wanted
no gold, and that he had rather rule over those who had gold than have
it himself.

C. FABRICIUS. C. Fabricius, hearing Pyrrhus had overthrown the
Romans, told Labienus, it was Pyrrhus, not the Epirots, that beat the
Romans. He went to treat about exchange of prisoners with Pyrrhus,
who offered him a great sum of gold, which he refused. The next day
Pyrrhus commanded a very large elephant should secretly be placed
behind Fabricius, and discover himself by roaring; whereupon Fabricius
turned and smiled, saying, I was not astonished either at your gold
yesterday or at your beast to-day. Pyrrhus invited him to tarry with
him, and to accept of the next command under him: That, said he, will
be inconvenient for you; for, when the Epirots know us both, they will
rather have me for their king than you. When Fabricius was consul,
Pyrrhus’s physician sent him a letter, wherein he promised him that, if
he commanded him, he would poison Pyrrhus. Fabricius sent the letter
to Pyrrhus, and bade him conclude that he was a very bad judge both
of friends and enemies. The plot was discovered; Pyrrhus hanged his
physician, and sent the Roman prisoners he had taken without ransom
as a present to Fabricius. He, however, refused to accept them, but
returned the like number, lest he might seem to receive a reward.
Neither did he disclose the conspiracy out of kindness to Pyrrhus, but
that the Romans might not seem to kill him by treachery, as if they
despaired to conquer him in open war.

FABIUS MAXIMUS. Fabius Maximus would not fight, but chose to spin away
the time with Hannibal,—who wanted both money and provision for his
army,—by pursuing and facing him in rocky and mountainous places.
When many laughed at him and called him Hannibal’s schoolmaster, he
took little notice of them, but pursued his own design, and told his
friends: He that is afraid of scoffs and reproaches is more a coward
than he that flies from the enemy. When Minucius, his fellow-consul,
upon routing a party of the enemy, was highly extolled as a man worthy
of Rome; I am more afraid, said he, of Minucius’s success than of
his misfortune. And not long after he fell into an ambush, and was
in danger of perishing with his forces, until Fabius succored him,
slew many of the enemy, and brought him off. Whereupon Hannibal told
his friends: Did I not often presage that cloud on the hills would
some time or other break upon us? After the city received the great
overthrow at Cannae, he was chosen consul with Marcellus, a daring
person and much desirous to fight Hannibal, whose forces, if nobody
fought him, he hoped would shortly disperse and be dissolved. Therefore
Hannibal said, he feared fighting Marcellus less than Fabius who would
not fight. He was informed of a Lucanian soldier that frequently
wandered out of the camp by night after a woman he loved, but otherwise
an admirable soldier; he caused his mistress to be seized privately and
brought to him. When she came, he sent for the soldier and told him:
It is known you lie out a nights, contrary to the law; but your former
good behavior is not forgotten, therefore your faults are forgiven to
your merits. Henceforwards you shall tarry with me, for I have your
surety. And he brought out the woman to him. Hannibal kept Tarentum
with a garrison, all but the castle; and Fabius drew the enemy far
from it, and by a stratagem took the town and plundered it. When his
secretary asked what was his pleasure as to the holy images, Let us
leave, said he, the Tarentines their offended Gods. When M. Livius, who
kept a garrison in the castle, said he took Tarentum by his assistance,
others laughed at him; but said Fabius, You say true, for if you had
not lost the city, I had not re-took it. When he was ancient, his son
was consul, and as he was discharging his office publicly with many
attendants, he met him on horseback. The young man sent a sergeant to
command him to alight; when others were at a stand, Fabius presently
alighted, and running faster than for his age might be expected,
embraced his son. Well done, son, said he, I see you are wise, and know
whom you govern, and the grandeur of the office you have undertaken.

SCIPIO THE ELDER. Scipio the Elder spent on his studies what leisure
the campaign and government would allow him, saying, that he did most
when he was idle. When he took Carthage by storm, some soldiers took
prisoner a very beautiful virgin, and came and presented her to him. I
would receive her, said he, with all my heart, if I were a private man
and not a governor. While he was besieging the city of Badia, wherein
appeared above all a temple of Venus, he ordered appearances to be
given for actions to be tried before him within three days in that
temple of Venus; and he took the city, and was as good as his word.
One asked him in Sicily, on what confidence he presumed to pass with
his navy against Carthage. He showed him three hundred disciplined men
in armor, and pointed to a high tower on the shore; There is not one
of these, said he, that would not at my command go to the top of that
tower, and cast himself down headlong. Over he went, landed, and burnt
the enemy’s camp, and the Carthaginians sent to him, and covenanted to
surrender their elephants, ships, and a sum of money. But when Hannibal
was sailed back from Italy, their reliance on him made them repent of
those conditions. This coming to Scipio’s ear, Nor will I, said he,
stand to the agreement if they will, unless they pay me five thousand
talents more for sending for Hannibal. The Carthaginians, when they
were utterly overthrown, sent ambassadors to make peace and league
with him; he bade those that came return immediately, as refusing to
hear them before they brought L. Terentius with them, a good man,
whom the Carthaginians had taken prisoner. When they brought him, he
placed him in the council next himself, on the judgment-seat, and then
he transacted with the Carthaginians and put an end to the war. And
Terentius followed him when he triumphed, wearing the cap of one that
was made free; and when he died, Scipio gave wine mingled with honey
to those that were at the funeral, and performed other funeral rites
in his honor. But these things were done afterwards. King Antiochus,
after the Romans invaded him, sent to Scipio in Asia for peace; That
should have been done before, said he, not now when you have received
a bridle and a rider. The senate decreed him a sum of money out of the
treasury, but the treasurers refused to open it on that day. Then, said
he, I will open it myself, for the moneys with which I filled it caused
it to be shut. When Paetilius and Quintus accused him of many crimes
before the people,—On this very day, said he, I conquered Hannibal and
Carthage; I for my part am going with my crown on to the Capitol to
sacrifice; and let him that pleaseth stay and pass his vote upon me.
Having thus said, he went his way; and the people followed him, leaving
his accusers declaiming to themselves.

T. QUINCTIUS. T. Quinctius was eminent so early, that before he had
been tribune, praetor, or aedile, he was chosen consul. Being sent
as general against Philip, he was persuaded to come to a conference
with him. And when Philip demanded hostages of him, because he was
accompanied with many Romans while the Macedonians had none but
himself; You, said Quinctius, have created this solitude for yourself,
by killing your friends and kindred. Having overcome Philip in battle,
he proclaimed in the Isthmian games that the Grecians were free and to
be governed by their own laws. And the Grecians redeemed all the Roman
prisoners that in Hannibal’s days were sold for slaves in Greece, each
of them with two hundred drachms, and made him a present of them; and
they followed him in Rome in his triumph, wearing caps on their heads
such as they use to wear who are made free. He advised the Achaeans,
who designed to make war upon the Island Zacynthus, to take heed lest,
like a tortoise, they should endanger their head by thrusting it out
of Peloponnesus. When King Antiochus was coming upon Greece with great
forces, and all men trembled at the report of his numbers and equipage,
he told the Achaeans this story: Once I dined with a friend at Chalcis,
and when I wondered at the variety of dishes, said my host, “All these
are pork, only in dressing and sauces they differ.” And therefore be
not you amazed at the king’s forces, when you hear talk of spearmen and
men-at-arms and choice footmen and horse-archers, for all these are but
Syrians, with some little difference in their weapons. Philopoemen,
general of the Achaeans, had good store of horses and men-at-arms, but
could not tell what to do for money; and Quinctius played upon him,
saying, Philopoemen had arms and legs, but no belly; and it happened
his body was much after that shape.

CNEUS DOMITIUS. Cneus Domitius,—whom Scipio the Great sent in his
stead to attend his brother Lucius in the war against Antiochus,—when
he had viewed the enemy’s army, and the commanders that were with him
advised him to set upon them presently, said to them: We shall scarce
have time enough now to kill so many thousands, plunder their baggage,
return to our camp, and refresh ourselves too; but we shall have time
enough to do all this to-morrow. The next day he engaged them, and slew
fifty thousand of the enemy.

PUBLIUS LICINIUS. Publius Licinius, consul and general being worsted
in a horse engagement by Perseus king of Macedon, with what were slain
and what were took prisoners, lost two thousand eight hundred men.
Presently after the fight, Perseus sent ambassadors to make peace and
league with him; and although he was overcome, yet he advised the
conqueror to submit himself and his affairs to the pleasure of the
Romans.

PAULUS AEMILIUS. Paulus Aemilius, when he stood for his second
consulship, was rejected. Afterwards, the war with Perseus and the
Macedonians being prolonged by the ignorance and effeminacy of the
commanders, they chose him consul. I thank, said he, the people for
nothing; they choose me general, not because I want the office, but
because they want an officer. As he returned from the hall to his own
house, and found his little daughter Tertia weeping, he asked her what
she cried for? Perseus, said she (so her little dog was called), is
dead. Luckily hast thou spoken, girl, said he, and I accept the omen.
When he found in the camp much confident prating among the soldiers,
who pretended to advise him and busy themselves as if they had been all
officers, he bade them be quiet and only whet their swords, and leave
other things to his care.

He ordered night-guards should be kept without swords or spears, that
they might resist sleep, when they had nothing wherewith to resist the
enemy. He invaded Macedonia by the way of the mountains; and seeing the
enemy drawn up, when Nasica advised him to set upon them presently,
he replied: So I should, if I were of your age; but long experience
forbids me, after a march, to fight an army marshalled regularly.
Having overcome Perseus, he feasted his friends for joy of the victory,
saying, it required the same skill to make an army very terrible to the
enemy, and a banquet very acceptable to our friends. When Perseus was
taken prisoner, he told Paulus that he would not be led in triumph.
That, said he, is as you please,—meaning he might kill himself. He
found an infinite quantity of money, but kept none for himself; only
to his son-in-law Tubero he gave a silver bowl that weighed five
pounds, as a reward of his valor; and that, they say, was the first
piece of plate that belonged to the Aemilian family. Of the four sons
he had, he parted with two that were adopted into other families;
and of the two that lived with him, one of them died at the age of
fourteen years, but five days before his triumph; and five days after
the triumph, at the age of twelve years died the other. When the people
that met him bemoaned and compassionated his calamities, Now, said he,
my fears and jealousies for my country are over, since Fortune hath
discharged her revenge for our success on my house, and I have paid for
all.

CATO THE ELDER. Cato the Elder, in a speech to the people, inveighed
against luxury and intemperance. How hard, said he, is it to persuade
the belly, that hath no ears? And he wondered how that city was
preserved wherein a fish was sold for more than an ox! Once he scoffed
at the prevailing imperiousness of women: All other men, said he,
govern their wives; but we command all other men, and our wives us.
He said he had rather not be rewarded for his good deeds than not
punished for his evil deeds; and at any time he could pardon all other
offenders besides himself. He instigated the magistrates to punish all
offenders, saying, that they that did not prevent crimes when they
might encouraged them. Of young men, he liked them that blushed better
than those who looked pale; and hated a soldier that moved his hands
as he walked and his feet as he fought, and whose sneeze was louder
than his outcry when he charged. He said, he was the worst governor
who could not govern himself. It was his opinion that every one ought
especially to reverence himself; for every one was always in his own
presence. When he saw many had their statues set up, I had rather, says
he, men should ask why Cato had no statue, than why he had one. He
exhorted those in power to be sparing of exercising their power, that
they might continue in power. They that separate honor from virtue,
said he, separate virtue from youth. A governor, said he, or judge
ought to do justice without entreaty, not injustice upon entreaty. He
said, that injustice, if it did not endanger the authors, endangered
all besides. He requested old men not to add the disgrace of wickedness
to old age, which was accompanied with many other evils. He thought
an angry man differed from a madman only in the shorter time which
his passion endured. He thought that they who enjoyed their fortunes
decently and moderately, were far from being envied; For men do not
envy us, said he, but our estates. He said, they that were serious in
ridiculous matters would be ridiculous in serious affairs. Honorable
actions ought to succeed honorable sayings; Lest, said he, they lose
their reputation. He blamed the people for always choosing the same men
officers; For either you think, said he, the government little worth,
or very few fit to govern. He pretended to wonder at one that sold an
estate by the seaside, as if he were more powerful than the sea; for he
had drunk up that which the sea could hardly drown. When he stood for
the consulship, and saw others begging and flattering the people for
votes, he cried out aloud: The people have need of a sharp physician
and a great purge; therefore not the mildest but the most inexorable
person is to be chosen. For which word he was chosen before all others.
Encouraging young men to fight boldly, he oftentimes said, The speech
and voice terrify and put to flight the enemy more than the hand and
sword. As he warred against Baetica, he was outnumbered by the enemy,
and in danger. The Celtiberians offered for two hundred talents to send
him a supply, and the Romans would not suffer him to engage to pay
wages to barbarians. You are out, said he; for if we overcome, not we
but the enemy must pay them; if we are routed, there will be nobody to
demand nor to pay either. Having taken more cities, as he saith, than
he stayed days in the enemies’ country, he reserved no more of the prey
for himself than what he ate or drank. He distributed to every soldier
a round of silver, saying, It was better many should return out of the
campaign with silver than a few with gold; for governors ought to gain
nothing by their governments but honor. Five servants waited on him in
the army, whereof one had bought three prisoners; and understanding
Cato knew it, before he came into his presence he hanged himself. Being
requested by Scipio Africanus to befriend the banished Achaeans, that
they might return to their own country, he made as if he would not be
concerned in that business; but when the matter was disputed in the
senate, rising up, he said: We sit here, as if we had nothing else to
do but to argue about a few old Grecians, whether they shall be carried
to their graves by our bearers or by those of their own country.
Posthumus Albinus wrote a history in Greek, and in it begs the pardon
of his readers. Said Cato, jeering him, If the Amphictyonic Council
commanded him to write it, he ought to be pardoned.

SCIPIO JUNIOR. It is reported that Scipio Junior never bought nor sold
nor built any thing for the space of fifty-four years, and so long as
he lived; and that of so great an estate, he left but thirty-three
pounds of silver, and two of gold behind him, although he was lord
of Carthage, and enriched his soldiers more than other generals. He
observed the precept of Polybius, and endeavored never to return from
the forum, until by some means or other he had engaged some one he
lighted on to be his friend or companion. While he was yet young, he
had such a repute for valor and knowledge, that Cato the Elder, being
asked his opinion of the commanders in Africa, of whom Scipio was one,
answered in that Greek verse,—

    Others like shadows fly;
    He only is wise.[113]

When he came from the army to Rome, the people preferred him, not
to gratify him, but because they hoped by his assistance to conquer
Carthage with more ease and speed. After he was entered the walls,
the Carthaginians defended themselves in the castle, separated by the
sea, not very deep. Polybius advised him to scatter caltrops in the
water, or planks with iron spikes, that the enemy might not pass over
to assault their bulwark. He answered, that it was ridiculous for those
who had taken the walls and were within the city to contrive how they
might not fight with the enemy. He found the city full of Greek statues
and presents brought thither from Sicily, and made proclamation that
such as were present from those cities might claim and carry away what
belonged to them. When others plundered and carried away the spoil, he
would not suffer any that belonged to him, either slave or freeman, to
take, nor so much as to buy any of it. He assisted C. Laelius, his most
beloved friend, when he stood to be consul, and asked Pompey (who was
thought to be a piper’s son) whether he stood or not. He replied, No;
and besides promised to join with them in going about and procuring
votes, which they believed and expected, but were deceived; for news
was brought that Pompey was in the forum, fawning on and soliciting the
citizens for himself; whereat others being enraged, Scipio laughed.
We may thank our own folly for this, said he, that, as if we were not
to request men but the Gods, we lose our time in waiting for a piper.
When he stood to be censor, Appius Claudius, his rival, told him that
he could salute all the Romans by their names, whereas Scipio scarce
knew any of them. You say true, said he, for it hath been my care not
to know many, but that all might know me. He advised the city, which
then had an army in Celtiberia, to send them both to the army, either
as tribunes or lieutenants, that thus the soldiers might be witnesses
and judges of the valor of each of them. When he was made censor, he
took away his horse from a young man, who, in the time while Carthage
was besieged, made a costly supper, in which was a honey-cake, made
after the shape of that city, which he named Carthage and set before
his guests to be plundered by them; and when the young man asked the
reason why he took his horse from him, he said, Because you plundered
Carthage before me. As he saw C. Licinius coming towards him, I
know, said he, that man is perjured; but since nobody accuses him, I
cannot be his accuser and judge too. The senate sent him thrice, as
Clitomachus saith, to take cognizance of men, cities, and manners, as
an overseer of cities, kings, and countries. As he came to Alexandria
and landed, he went with his head covered, and the Alexandrians running
about him entreated he would gratify them by uncovering and showing
them his desirable face. When he uncovered his head, they clapped
their hands with a loud acclamation. The king, by reason of his
laziness and corpulency, making a hard shift to keep pace with them,
Scipio whispered softly to Panaetius: The Alexandrians have already
received some benefit of our visit, for upon our account they have
seen their king walk. There travelled with him one friend, Panaetius
the philosopher, and five servants, whereof one dying in the journey,
he would not buy another, but sent for one to Rome. The Numantines
seemed invincible, and having overcome several generals, the people
the second time chose Scipio general in that war. When great numbers
strived to list them in his army, even that the senate forbade, as if
Italy thereby would be left destitute. Nor did they allow him money
that was in bank, but ordered him to receive the revenues of tributes
that were not yet payable. As to money, Scipio said he wanted none,
for of his own and by his friends he could be supplied; but of the
decree concerning the soldiers he complained, for the war (he said) was
a hard and difficult one, whether their defeat had been caused by the
valor of the enemy or by the cowardice of their own men. When he came
to the army, he found there much disorder, intemperance, superstition,
and luxury. Immediately he drove away the soothsayers, priests, and
panders. He ordered them to send away their household stuff, all except
kettles, a spit, and an earthen cup. He allowed a silver cup, weighing
not more than two pounds, to such as desired it. He forbade them to
bathe; and those that anointed themselves were to rub themselves too;
for horses wanted another to rub them, he said, only because they had
no hand of their own. He ordered them to eat their dinner standing, and
to have only such food as was dressed without fire; but they might sit
down at supper, to bread, plain porridge, and flesh boiled or roasted.
He himself walked about clothed in a black cassock, saying, he mourned
for the disgrace of the army. He met by chance with the pack-horses of
Memmius, a tribune that carried wine-coolers set with precious stones,
and the best Corinthian vessels. Since you are such a one, said he, you
have made yourself useless to me and to your country for thirty days,
but to yourself all your life long. Another showed him a shield well
adorned. The shield, said he, young man, is a fine one, but it becomes
a Roman to have his confidence placed rather in his right hand than
in his left. To one that was building the rampart, saying his burthen
was very heavy, And deservedly, said he, for you trust more to this
wood than to your sword. When he saw the rash confidence of the enemy,
he said that he bought security with time; for a good general, like a
good physician, useth iron as his last remedy. And yet he fought when
he saw it convenient, and routed the enemy. When they were worsted,
the elder men chid them, and asked why they fled from those they had
pursued so often. It is said a Numantine answered, The sheep are the
same still, but they have another shepherd. After he had taken Numantia
and triumphed a second time, he had a controversy with C. Gracchus
concerning the senate and the allies; and the abusive people made a
tumult about him as he spake from the pulpit; The outcry of the army,
said he, when they charge, never disturbed me, much less the clamor
of a rabble of new-comers, to whom Italy is a step-mother (I am well
assured) and not a mother. And when they of Gracchus’s party cried out,
Kill the Tyrant,—No wonder, said he, that they who make war upon their
country would kill me first; for Rome cannot fall while Scipio stands,
nor can Scipio live when Rome is fallen.

CAECILIUS METELLUS. Caecilius Metellus designing to reduce a strong
fort, a captain told him he would undertake to take it with the loss
only of ten men; and he asked him, whether he himself would be one of
those ten. A young colonel asked him what design he had in the wheel.
If I thought my shirt knew, said he, I would pluck it off and burn it.
He was at variance with Scipio in his lifetime, but he lamented at his
death, and commanded his sons to assist at the hearse; and said, he
gave the Gods thanks in the behalf of Rome, that Scipio was born in no
other country.

C. MARIUS. C. Marius was of obscure parentage, pursuing offices by his
valor. He pretended to the chief aedileship, and perceiving he could
not reach it, the same day he stood for the lesser, and missing of that
also, yet for all that he did not despair of being consul. Having a wen
on each leg, he suffered one to be cut, and endured the surgeon without
binding, not so much as sighing or once contracting his eyebrows; but
when the surgeon would cut the other, he did not suffer him, saying
the cure was not worth the pain. In his second consulship, Lucius his
sister’s son offered unchaste force to Trebonius, a soldier, who slew
him; when many pleaded against him, he did not deny but confessed he
killed the colonel, and told the reason why. Hereupon Marius called for
a crown, the reward of extraordinary valor, and put it upon Trebonius’s
head. He had pitched his camp, when he fought against the Teutons, in
a place where water was wanting; when the soldiers told him they were
thirsty, he showed them a river running by the enemy’s trench. Look
you, said he, there is water for you, to be bought for blood; and they
desired him to conduct them to fight, while their blood was fluent and
not all dried up with thirst. In the Cimbrian war, he gave a thousand
valiant Camertines the freedom of Rome, which no law did allow; and
to such as blamed him for it he said, I could not hear the laws for
the clash of arrows. In the civil war, he lay patiently entrenched and
besieged, waiting for a fit opportunity; when Popedius Silon called to
him, Marius, if you are so great a general come down and fight. And
do you, said he, if you are so great a commander, force me to fight
against my will, if you can.

LUTATIUS CATULUS. Lutatius Catulus in the Cimbrian war lay encamped by
the side of the river Athesis, and his soldiers, seeing the barbarians
attempting to pass the river, gave back; when he could not make them
stand, he hastened to the front of them that fled, that they might not
seem to fly from their enemies but to follow their commander.

SYLLA. Sylla, surnamed the Fortunate, reckoned these two things as the
chiefest of his felicities,—the friendship of Metellus Pius, and that
he had spared and not destroyed the city of Athens.

C. POPILIUS. C. Popilius was sent to Antiochus with a letter from
the senate, commanding him to withdraw his army out of Egypt, and
to renounce the protection of that kingdom during the minority of
Ptolemy’s children. When he came towards him in his camp, Antiochus
kindly saluted him at a distance, but without returning his salutation
he delivered his letter; which being read, the king answered, that he
would consider, and give his answer. Whereupon Popilius with his wand
made a circle round him, saying, Consider and answer before you go
out of this place; and when Antiochus answered that he would give the
Romans satisfaction, then at length Popilius saluted and embraced him.

LUCULLUS. Lucullus in Armenia, with ten thousand foot in armor and a
thousand horse, was to fight Tigranes and his army of a hundred and
fifty thousand, the day before the nones of October, the same day on
which formerly Scipio’s army was destroyed by the Cimbrians. When one
told him, The Romans dread and abominate that day; Therefore, said
he, let us fight to-day valiantly, that we may change this day from a
black and unlucky one to a joyful and festival day for the Romans. His
soldiers were most afraid of their men-at-arms; but he bade them be of
good courage, for it was more labor to strip than to overcome them. He
first came up to their counterscarp, and perceiving the confusion of
the barbarians, cried out, Fellow-soldiers, the day’s our own! And when
nobody stood him, he pursued, and, with the loss of five Romans, slew
above a hundred thousand of them.

CN. POMPEIUS. Cn. Pompeius was as much beloved by the Romans as his
father was hated. When he was young, he wholly sided with Sylla, and
before he had borne many offices or was chosen into the senate, he
enlisted many soldiers in Italy. When Sylla sent for him, he returned
answer, that he would not muster his forces in the presence of his
general, unfleshed and without spoils; nor did he come before that
in several fights he had overcome the captains of the enemy. He was
sent by Sylla lieutenant-general into Sicily, and being told that the
soldiers turned out of the way and forced and plundered the country,
he sealed the swords of such as he sent abroad, and punished all other
stragglers and wanderers. He had resolved to put the Mamertines, that
were of the other side, all to the sword; but Sthenius the orator told
him, He would do injustice if he should punish many that were innocent
for the sake of one that was guilty; and that he himself was the person
that persuaded his friends and forced his enemies to side with Marius.
Pompey admired the man, and said, he could not blame the Mamertines
for being inveigled by a person who preferred his country beyond his
own life; and forgave both the city and Sthenius too. When he passed
into Africa against Domitius and overcame him in a great battle, the
soldiers saluted him Imperator. He answered, he could not receive
that honor, so long as the fortification of the enemy’s camp stood
undemolished; upon this, although it rained hard, they rushed on and
plundered the camp. At his return, among other courtesies and honors
wherewith Sylla entertained him, he styled him The Great; yet when he
was desirous to triumph, Sylla would not consent, because he was not
yet chosen into the senate. But when Pompey said to those that were
about him, Sylla doth not know that more worship the rising than the
setting sun, Sylla cried aloud, Let him triumph. Hereat Servilius, one
of the nobles, was displeased; the soldiers also withstood his triumph,
until he had bestowed a largess among them. But when Pompey replied, I
would rather forego my triumph than flatter them,—Now, said Servilius,
I see Pompey is truly great and worthy of a triumph. It was a custom
in Rome, that knights who had served in the wars the time appointed by
the laws should bring their horse into the forum before the censors,
and there give an account of their warfare and the commanders under
whom they had served. Pompey, then consul, brought also his horse
before the censors, Gellius and Lentulus; and when they asked him, as
the manner is, whether he had served all his campaigns, All, said he,
and under myself as general. Having gotten into his hands the writings
of Sertorius in Spain, among which were letters from several leading
men in Rome, inviting Sertorius to Rome to innovate and change the
government, he burnt them all, by that means giving opportunity to
ill-affected persons to repent and mend their manners. Phraates, king
of Parthia, sent to him requesting that the river Euphrates might be
his bounds. He answered, the Romans had rather the right should be
their bounds towards Parthia. L. Lucullus, after he left the army,
gave himself up to pleasure and luxury, jeering at Pompey for busying
himself in affairs unsuitable to his age. He answered, that government
became old age better than luxury. In a fit of sickness, his physician
prescribed him to eat a thrush; but when none could be gotten, because
they were out of season, one said, that Lucullus had some, for he kept
them all the year. It seems then, said he, Pompey must not live, unless
Lucullus play the glutton; and dismissing the physician, he ate such
things as were easy to be gotten. In a great dearth at Rome, he was
chosen by title overseer of the market, but in reality lord of sea and
land, and sailed to Africa, Sardinia, and Sicily. Having procured great
quantities of wheat, he hastened back to Rome; and when by reason of a
great tempest the pilots were loath to hoist sail, he went first aboard
himself, and commanding the anchor to be weighed, cried out aloud,
There is a necessity of sailing, but there is no necessity of living.
When the difference betwixt him and Caesar broke out, and Marcellinus,
one of those whom he had preferred, revolted to Caesar and inveighed
much against Pompey in the senate; Art thou not ashamed, said he,
Marcellinus, to reproach me, who taught you to speak when you were
dumb, and fed you full even to vomiting when you were starved? To Cato,
who severely blamed him because, when he had often informed him of the
growing power of Caesar, such as was dangerous to a democracy, he took
little notice of it, he answered, Your counsels were more presaging,
but mine more friendly. Concerning himself he freely professed, that
he entered all his offices sooner than he expected, and resigned them
sooner than was expected by others. After the fight at Pharsalia, in
his flight towards Egypt, as he was going out of the ship into the
fisher-boat the king sent to attend him, turning to his wife and son,
he said nothing to them beside those two verses of Sophocles:

    Whoever comes within a tyrant’s door
    Becomes his slave, though he were free before.

As he came out of the boat, when he was struck with a sword, he said
nothing; but gave one groan, and covering his head submitted to the
murderers.

CICERO. Cicero the orator, when his name was played upon and his
friends advised him to change it, answered, that he would make the name
of Cicero more honorable than the name of the Catos, the Catuli, or the
Scauri. He dedicated to the Gods a silver cup with a cover, with the
first letters of his other names, and instead of Cicero a chick-pea
(_cicer_) engraven. Loud bawling orators, he said, were driven by their
weakness to noise, as lame men to take horse. Verres had a son that
in his youth had not well secured his chastity; yet he reviled Cicero
for his effeminacy, and called him catamite. Do you not know, said he,
that children are to be rebuked at home within doors? Metellus Nepos
told him he had slain more by his testimony than he had saved by his
pleadings. You say true, said he, my honesty exceeds my eloquence.
When Metellus asked him who his father was, Your mother, said he,
hath made that question a harder one for you to answer than for me.
For she was unchaste, while Metellus himself was a light, inconstant,
and passionate man. The same Metellus, when Diodotus his master in
rhetoric died, caused a marble crow to be placed on his monument; and
Cicero said, he returned his master a very suitable gratuity, who had
taught him to fly but not to declaim. Hearing that Vatinius, his enemy
and otherwise a lewd person, was dead, and the next day that he was
alive, A mischief on him, said he, for lying. To one that seemed to be
an African, who said he could not hear him when he pleaded, And yet,
said he, your ears are of full bore. He had summoned Popilius Cotta,
an ignorant blockhead that pretended to the law, as a witness in a
cause; and when he told the court he knew nothing of the business, On
my conscience, I’ll warrant you, said Cicero, he thinks you ask him
a question in the law. Verres sent a golden sphinx as a present to
Hortensius the orator, who told Cicero, when he spoke obscurely, that
he was not skilled in riddles. That’s strange, said he, since you have
a sphinx in your house. Meeting Voconius with his three daughters that
were hard favored, he told his friends softly that verse,—

    Children he hath got,
    Though Apollo favored not.

When Faustus the son of Sylla, being very much in debt, set up a
writing that he would sell his goods by auction, he said, I like this
proscription better than his father’s. When Pompey and Caesar fell
out, he said, I know whom to fly from, but I know not whom to fly to.
He blamed Pompey for leaving the city, and for imitating Themistocles
rather than Pericles, when his affairs did not resemble the former’s
but the latter’s. He changed his mind and went over to Pompey, who
asked him where he left his son-in-law Piso. He answered, With your
father-in-law Caesar. To one that went over from Caesar to Pompey,
saying that in his haste and eagerness he had left his horse behind
him, he said, You have taken better care of your horse than of
yourself. To one that brought news that the friends of Caesar looked
sourly, You do as good as call them, said he, Caesar’s enemies. After
the battle in Pharsalia, when Pompey was fled, one Nonius said they had
seven eagles left still, and advised to try what they would do. Your
advice, said he, were good, if we were to fight with jackdaws. Caesar,
now conqueror, honorably restored the statues of Pompey that were
thrown down; whereupon Cicero said, that Caesar by erecting Pompey’s
statues had secured his own. He set so high a value on oratory, and
did so lay out himself especially that way, that having a cause to
plead before the centumviri, when the day approached and his slave Eros
brought him word it was deferred until the day following, he presently
made him free.

C. CAESAR. Caius Caesar, when he was a young man, fled from Sylla, and
fell into the hands of pirates, who first demanded of him a sum of
money; and he laughed at the rogues for not understanding his quality,
and promised them twice as much as they asked him. Afterwards, when he
was put into custody until he raised the money, he commanded them to
be quiet and silent while he slept. While he was in prison, he made
speeches and verses which he read to them, and when they commended them
but coldly, he called them barbarians and blockheads, and threatened
them in jest that he would hang them. But after a while he was as
good as his word; for when the money for his ransom was brought and
he discharged, he gathered men and ships out of Asia, seized the
pirates and crucified them. At Rome he stood to be chief priest against
Catulus, a man of great interest among the Romans. To his mother, who
brought him to the gate, he said, To-day, mother, you will have your
son high priest or banished. He divorced his wife Pompeia, because she
was reported to be over familiar with Clodius; yet when Clodius was
brought to trial upon that account, and he was cited as a witness,
he spake no evil against his wife; and when the accuser asked him,
Why then did you divorce her?—Because, said he, Caesar’s wife ought
to be free even from suspicion. As he was reading the exploits of
Alexander, he wept and told his friends, He was of my age when he
conquered Darius, and I hitherto have done nothing. He passed by a
little inconsiderable town in the Alps, and his friends said, they
wondered whether there were any contentions and tumults for offices in
that place. He stood, and after a little pause answered, I had rather
be the first in this town than second in Rome. He said, great and
surprising enterprises were not to be consulted upon, but done. And
coming against Pompey out of his province of Gaul, he passed the river
Rubicon, saying, Let every die be thrown. After Pompey fled to sea
from Rome, he went to take money out of the treasury: when Metellus,
who had the charge of it, forbade him and shut it against him, he
threatened to kill him; whereupon Metellus being astonished, he said
to him, This, young man, is harder for me to say than to do. When his
soldiers were having a tedious passage from Brundisium to Dyrrachium,
unknown to all he went aboard a small vessel, and attempted to pass the
sea; and when the vessel was in danger of being overset, he discovers
himself to the pilot, crying out, Trust Fortune, and know that you
carry Caesar. But the tempest being vehement, his soldiers coming
about him and expostulating passionately with him, asking whether he
distrusted them and was looking for another army, would not suffer him
to pass at that time. They fought, and Pompey had the better of it;
but instead of following his blow he retreated to his camp. To-day,
said Caesar, the enemy had the victory, but none of them know how to
conquer. Pompey commanded his army to stand in array at Pharsalia in
their place, and to receive the charge from the enemy. In this Caesar
said he was out, thereby suffering the eagerness of his soldiers’
spirits, when they were up and inspired with rage and success, in the
midst of their career to languish and expire. After he routed Pharnaces
Ponticus at the first assault, he wrote thus to his friends, I came, I
saw, I conquered.[114] After Scipio was worsted in Africa and fled, and
Cato had killed himself, he said: I envy thee thy death, O Cato! since
thou didst envy me the honor of saving thee. Antonius and Dolabella
were suspected by his friends, who advised him to secure them; he
answered, I fear none of those fat and lazy fellows, but those pale
and lean ones,—meaning Brutus and Cassius. As he was at supper, the
discourse was of death, which sort was the best. That, said he, which
is unexpected.

CAESAR AUGUSTUS. Caesar, who was the first surnamed Augustus, being
yet young, demanded of Antony the twenty-five millions of money[115]
which he had taken out of the house of Julius Caesar when he was slain,
that he might pay the Romans the legacies he had left them, every man
seventy-five drachms. But when Antony detained the money, and bade him,
if he were wise, let fall his demand, he sent the crier to offer his
own paternal estate for sale, and therewith discharged the legacies;
by which means he procured a general respect to himself, and to Antony
the hatred of the Romans. Rymetalces, king of Thrace, forsook Antony
and went over to Caesar; but bragging immoderately in his drink, and
nauseously reproaching his new confederates, Caesar drank to one of the
other kings, and told him, I love treason but do not commend traitors.
The Alexandrians, when he had taken their city, expected great severity
from him; but when he came upon the judgment-seat, he placed Arius the
Alexandrian by him, and told them: I spare this city, first because
it is great and beautiful, secondly for the sake of its founder,
Alexander, and thirdly for the sake of Arius my friend. When it was
told him that Eros, his steward in Egypt, having bought a quail that
beat all he came near and was never worsted by any, had roasted and
eaten it, he sent for him; and when upon examination he confessed the
fact, he ordered him to be nailed on the mast of the ship. He removed
Theodorus, and in his stead made Arius his factor in Sicily, whereupon
a petition was presented to him, in which was written, Theodorus of
Tarsus is either a baldpate or a thief, what is your opinion? Caesar
read it, and subscribed, I think so. Mecaenas, his intimate companion,
presented him yearly on his birthday with a piece of plate. Athenodorus
the philosopher, by reason of his old age, begged leave that he might
retire from court, which Caesar granted; and as Athenodorus was taking
his leave of him, Remember, said he, Caesar, whenever you are angry, to
say or do nothing before you have repeated the four-and-twenty letters
to yourself. Whereupon Caesar caught him by the hand and said, I have
need of your presence still; and he kept him a year longer, saying, The
reward of silence is a secure reward. He heard Alexander at the age of
thirty-two years had subdued the greatest part of the world and was at
a loss what he should do with the rest of his time. But he wondered
Alexander should not think it a lesser labor to gain a great empire
than to set in order what he had gotten. He made a law concerning
adulterers, wherein was determined how the accused were to be tried and
how the guilty were to be punished. Afterwards, meeting with a young
man that was reported to have been familiar with his daughter Julia,
being enraged he struck him with his hands; but when the young man
cried out, O Caesar! you have made a law, he was so troubled at it that
he refrained from supper that day. When he sent Caius his daughter’s
son into Armenia, he begged of the Gods that the favor of Pompey, the
valor of Alexander, and his own fortune might attend him. He told
the Romans he would leave them one to succeed him in the government
that never consulted twice in the same affair, meaning Tiberius. He
endeavored to pacify some young men that were imperious in their
offices; and when they gave little heed to him, but still kept a stir,
Young men, said he, hear an old man to whom old men hearkened when
he was young. Once, when the Athenians had offended him, he wrote to
them from Aegina: I suppose you know I am angry with you, otherwise I
had not wintered at Aegina. Besides this, he neither said nor did any
thing to them. One of the accusers of Eurycles prated lavishly and
unreasonably, proceeding so far as to say, If these crimes, O Caesar,
do not seem great to you, command him to repeat to me the seventh book
of Thucydides; wherefore Caesar being enraged commanded him to prison.
But afterwards, when he heard he was descended from Brasidas, he sent
for him again, and dismissed him with a moderate rebuke. When Piso
built his house from top to bottom with great exactness, You cheer my
heart, said he, who build as if Rome would be eternal.




PLUTARCH’S RULES FOR THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH.

A DIALOGUE.


MOSCHIO, ZEUXIPPUS.

1. MOSCHIO. And you, Zeuxippus, diverted Glaucus the physician from
entering into a philosophical discourse with you yesterday.

ZEUXIPPUS. I did not hinder him in the least, friend Moschio, it was he
that would not discourse in philosophy. But I feared and avoided giving
so contentious a man any opportunity of discourse; for though in physic
the man has (as Homer[116] expresses it) an excellency before most of
his profession, yet in philosophy he is not altogether so candid, but
indeed so rude in all his disputations, that he is hardly to be borne
with, flying (as it were) at us open mouthed. So that it is neither an
easy nor indeed a just thing, that we should bear those confusions in
terms he makes, when we are disputing about a wholesome diet. Besides,
he maintains that the bounds of philosophy and medicine are as distinct
as those of the Mysians and Phrygians. And taking hold of some of those
things we were discoursing of, perhaps not with all exactness, yet not
without some profit, he made scurrilous reflections on them.

MOSCHIO. But I am ready, Zeuxippus, to hear those and the other things
you shall discourse of, with a great deal of pleasure.

ZEUXIPPUS. You have naturally a philosophical genius, Moschio, and
are troubled to see a philosopher have no kindness for the study of
medicine. You are uneasy that he should think it concerns him more to
study geometry, logic, and music, than to be desirous to understand

    What in his house is well or ill-designed,[117]

his house being his own body. You shall see many spectators at that
play where their charges are defrayed out of the public stock, as
they do at Athens. Now among all the liberal arts, medicine not only
contains so neat and large a field of pleasure as to give place to
none, but she pays plentifully the charges of those who delight in the
study of her by giving them health and safety; so that it ought not to
be called transgressing the bounds of a philosopher to dispute about
those things which relate to health, but rather, all bounds being laid
aside, we ought to pursue our studies in the same common field, and so
enjoy both the pleasure and the profit of them.

MOSCHIO. But to pass by Glaucus, who with his pretended gravity would
be thought to be so perfect as not to stand in need of philosophy,—do
you, if you please, run through the whole discourse, and first, those
things which you say were not so exactly handled and which Glaucus
carped at.

2. ZEUXIPPUS. A friend of ours then heard one alleging that to keep
one’s hands always warm and never suffer them to be cold did not a
little conduce to health; and, on the contrary, keeping the extreme
parts of the body cold drives the heat inward, so that you are always
in a fever or the fear of one. But those things which force the heat
outwards do distribute and draw the matter to all parts, with advantage
to our health. If in any work we employ our hands, we are able to keep
in them that heat which is induced by their motion. But when we do not
work with our hands, we should take all care to keep our extreme parts
from cold.

3. This was one of those things he ridiculed. The second, as I
remember, was touching the food allowed the sick, which he advises us
sometimes both to touch and taste when we are in good health, that so
we may be used to it, and not be shy of it, like little children, or
hate such a diet, but by degrees make it natural and familiar to our
appetite; that in our sickness we may not nauseate wholesome diet, as
if it were physic, nor be uneasy when we are prescribed any insipid
thing, that lacks both the smell and taste of a kitchen. Wherefore we
need not squeamishly refuse to eat before we wash, or to drink water
when we may have wine, or to take warm drink in summer when there is
snow at hand. We must, however, lay aside all foppish ostentation and
sophistry as well as vain-glory in this abstinence, and quietly by
ourselves accustom our appetite to obey reason with willingness, that
thus we may wean our minds long beforehand from that dainty contempt of
such food which we feel in time of sickness, and that we may not then
effeminately bewail our condition, as if we were fallen from great and
beloved pleasures into a low and sordid diet. It was well said, Choose
out the best condition you can, and custom will make it pleasant to
you. And this will be beneficial in most things we undertake, but more
especially as to diet; if, in the height of our health, we introduce
a custom whereby those things may be rendered easy, familiar, and,
as it were, domestics of our bodies, remembering what some suffer
and do in sickness, who fret, and are not able to endure warm water
or gruel or bread when it is brought to them, calling them dirty and
unseemly things, and the persons who would urge them to them base
and troublesome. The bath hath destroyed many whose distemper at the
beginning was not very bad, only because they could not endure to
eat before they washed; among whom Titus the emperor was one, as his
physicians affirm.

4. This also was said, that a thin diet is the healthfulest to the
body. But we ought chiefly to avoid all excess in meat or drink or
pleasure, when there is any feast or entertainment at hand, or when
we expect any royal or princely banquet, or solemnity which we cannot
possibly avoid; then ought the body to be light and in readiness to
receive the winds and waves it is to meet with. It is a hard matter
for a man at a feast or collation to keep that mediocrity or bounds
he has been used to, so as not to seem rude, precise, or troublesome
to the rest of the company. Lest we should add fire to fire, as the
proverb is, or one debauch or excess to another, we should take care to
imitate that ingenious droll of Philip, which was this. He was invited
to supper by a countryman, who supposed he would bring but few friends
with him; but when he saw him bring a great many, there not being much
provided, he was much concerned at it: which when Philip perceived,
he sent privately to every one of his friends, that they should leave
a corner for cake; they believing this and still expecting, ate so
sparingly that there was supper enough for them all. So we ought
beforehand to prepare ourselves against all unavoidable invitations,
that there may be room left in our body, not only for the meal and
the dessert, but for drunkenness itself, by bringing in a fresh and a
willing appetite along with us.

5. But if such a necessity should surprise you when you are already
loaded or indisposed, in the presence either of persons of quality
or of strangers that come in upon you unawares, and you cannot for
shame but go and drink with them that are ready for that purpose,
then you ought to arm yourself against that modesty and prejudicial
shame-facedness with that of Creon in the tragedy, who says,—

    ’Tis better, sirs, I should you now displease,
    Than by complying next day lose my ease.[118]

He who throws himself into a pleurisy or frenzy, to avoid being
censured as an uncivil person, is certainly no well-bred man, nor has
he sense of understanding enough to converse with men, unless in a
tavern or a cook-shop. Whereas an excuse ingeniously and dexterously
made is no less acceptable than compliance. He that makes a feast,
though he be as unwilling to taste of it himself as if it was a
sacrifice, yet if he be merry and jocund over his glass at table,
jesting and drolling upon himself, seems better company than they
who are drunk and gluttonized together. Among the ancients, he made
mention of Alexander, who after hard drinking was ashamed to resist
the importunity of Medius, who invited him afresh to the drinking of
wine, of which he died; and of our time, of Regulus the wrestler, who,
being called by break of day by Titus Caesar to the bath, went and
washed with him, and drinking but once (as they say) was seized with
an apoplexy, and died immediately. These things Glaucus in laughter
objected to as pedantic. He was not over-fond of hearing farther, nor
indeed were we of discoursing more. But do you give heed to every thing
that was said.

6. First, Socrates advises us to beware of such meats as persuade a man
to eat them though he be not hungry, and of those drinks that would
prevail with a man to drink them when he is not thirsty. Not that he
absolutely forbade us the use of them; but he taught that we might use
them where there was occasion for it, suiting the pleasure of them to
our necessity, as cities converted the money which was designed for the
festivals into a supply for war. For that which is agreeable by nature,
so long as it is a part of our nourishment, is proper for us. He that
is hungry should eat necessary food and find it pleasant; but when he
is freed from his common appetite, he ought not to raise up a fresh
one. For, as dancing was no unpleasant exercise to Socrates himself,
so he that can make his meal of sweetmeats or a second course receives
the less damage. But he that has taken already what may sufficiently
satisfy his nature ought by all means to avoid them. And concerning
these things, indecorum and ambition are no less to be avoided than
the love of pleasure or gluttony. For these often persuade men to eat
without hunger or drink without thirst, possessing them with base and
troublesome fancies, as if it were indecent not to taste of every
thing which is either a rarity or of great price, as udder, Italian
mushrooms, Samian cakes, or snow in Egypt. Again, these often incite
men to eat things rare and much talked of, they being led to it, as it
were, by the scent of vain-glory, and making their bodies to partake of
them without any necessity of it, that they may have something to tell
others, who shall admire their having eaten such rare and superfluous
things. And thus it is with them in relation to fine women; when they
are in bed with their own wives, however beautiful and loving they
may be, they are no way concerned; but on Phryne or Lais they bestow
their money, inciting an infirm and unfit body, and provoking it to
intemperate pleasures, and all this out of a vain-glorious humor.
Phryne herself said in her old age, that she sold her lees and dregs
the dearer because she had been in such repute when she was young.

7. It is indeed a great and miraculous thing that, if we allow the
body all the pleasures which nature needs and can bear,—or rather, if
we struggle against its appetites on most occasions and put it off,
and are at last brought with difficulty to yield to its necessities,
or (as Plato saith) give way when it bites and strains itself,—after
all we should come off without harm. But, on the other hand, those
desires which descend from the mind into the body, and urge and force
it to obey and accompany them in all their motions and affections,
must of necessity leave behind them the greatest and severest ills, as
the effects of such infirm and dark delights. The desire of our mind
ought no ways to incite our bodies to any pleasure, for the beginning
of this is against nature. And as the tickling of one’s armpits forces
a laughter, which is neither moderate nor merry, nor indeed properly
a laughter, but rather troublesome and like convulsions; so those
pleasures which the molested and disturbed body receives from the mind
are furious, troublesome, and wholly strangers to nature. Therefore
when any rare or noble dish is before you, you will get more honor
by refraining from it than partaking of it. Remember what Simonides
said, that he never repented that he had held his tongue, but often
that he had spoken; so we shall not repent that we have refused a good
dish or drunk water instead of Falernian, but the contrary. We are not
only to commit no violence on Nature; but when any of those things are
offered to her, even if she has a desire for them, we ought oftentimes
to direct the appetite to a more innocent and accustomed diet, that
she may be used to it and acquainted with it; for as the Theban said
(though not over honestly), If the law must be violated, it looks best
when it is done for an empire.[119] But we say better, if we are to
take pride in any such thing, it is best when it is in that moderation
which conduces to our health. But a narrowness of soul and a stingy
humor compel some men to keep under and defraud their genius at home,
who, when they enjoy the costly fare of another man’s table, do cram
themselves as eagerly as if it were all plunder; then they are taken
ill, go home, and the next day find the crudity of their stomachs
the reward of their unsatiableness. Wherefore Crates, supposing
that luxury and prodigality were the chief cause of seditions and
insurrections in a city, in a droll advises that we should never go
beyond a lentil in our meals, lest we bring ourselves into sedition.
But let every one exhort himself not to increase his meal beyond a
lentil, and not to pass by cresses and olives and fall upon pudding and
fish, that he may not by his over-eating bring his body into tumults,
disturbances, and diarrhoeas; for a mean diet keeps the appetite within
its natural bounds, but the arts of cooks and confectioners, with their
elaborate dishes and aromatic sauces, do (according to the comedian)
push forward and enlarge the bounds of pleasure, and entrench upon
those of our profit. I know not how it comes to pass that we should
abominate and hate those women that either bewitch or give philters
to their husbands, and yet give our meat and drink to our slaves and
hirelings, to all but corrupt and poison them. For though that may
seem too severe which was said by Arcesilaus against lascivious and
adulterous persons, that it signifies little which way one goes about
such beastly work;[120] yet it is not much from our purpose. For what
difference is there (to speak ingenuously) whether satyrion moves and
whets my lust, or my taste is irritated by the scent of the meat or the
sauce, so that, like a part infected with itch, it shall always need
scratching and tickling?

8. But we shall perhaps discourse against pleasures in another place,
and show the beauty and dignity that temperance has within itself;
but our present discourse is in praise of many and great pleasures.
For diseases do not either rob or spoil us of so much business, hope,
journeys, or exercise, as they do of pleasure; so that it is no way
convenient for those who would follow their pleasure to neglect their
health. There are diseases which will permit a man to study philosophy
and to exercise any military office, nay, to act the kingly part. But
the pleasures and enjoyments of the body are such as cannot be born
alive in the midst of a distemper; or if they are, the pleasures they
afford are not only short and impure, but mixed with much alloy, and
they bear the marks of that storm and tempest out of which they rise.
Venus herself delights not in a gorged, but in a calm and serene body;
and pleasure is the end of that, as well as it is of meat and drink.
Health is to pleasure as still weather to the halcyon, giving it a
safe and commodious birth and nest. Prodicus seems elegantly enough to
have said, that of all sauces fire was the best; but most true it is
to say, that health gives things the most divine and grateful relish.
For meat, whether it be boiled, roasted, or stewed, has no pleasure
or gusto in it to a sick, surfeited, or nauseous stomach. But a clean
and undebauched appetite renders every thing sweet and delightful to a
sound body, and (as Homer expresses it) devourable.

9. As Demades told the Athenians, who unseasonably made war, that
they never treated of peace but in mourning, so we never think of
a moderate and slender diet but when we are in a fever or under a
course of physic. But when we are in these extremities, we diligently
conceal our enormities, though we remember them well enough; yet as
many do, we lay the blame of our illness now upon the air, now upon
the unhealthfulness of the place or the length of a journey, to take
it off from that intemperance and luxury which was the cause of it.
As Lysimachus, when he was among the Scythians and constrained by
his thirst, delivered up himself and his army into captivity, but
afterwards, drinking cold water, cried out, O ye Gods! for how short
a pleasure have I thrown away a great felicity!—so in our sickness,
we ought to consider with ourselves that, for the sake of a draught of
cold water, an unseasonable bath, or good company, we spoil many of our
delights as well as our honorable business, and lose many pleasant
diversions. The remorse that arises from these considerations wounds
the conscience, and sticks to us in our health like a scar, to make
us more cautious as to our diet. For a healthful body does not breed
any enormous appetite, or such as we cannot prevail with or overcome.
But we ought to put on resolution against our extravagant desires or
efforts towards enjoyment, esteeming it a low and childish thing to
give ear to their complaints and murmurings; for they cease as soon as
the cloth is taken away, and will neither accuse you of injustice, nor
think you have done them wrong; but on the contrary, you will find them
the next day pure and brisk, no way clogged or nauseating. As Timotheus
said, when he had had a light philosophic dinner the other day with
Plato in the Academy, They who dine with Plato never complain the next
morning. It is reported that Alexander said, when he had turned off his
usual cooks, that he carried always better with him; for his journeys
by night recommended his dinner to him, and the slenderness of his
dinner recommended his supper.

10. I am not ignorant that fevers seize men upon a fatigue or excess
of heat or cold. But as the scent of flowers, which in itself is but
faint, if mixed with oil is more strong and fragrant; so an inward
fulness gives, as it were, a body and substance to external causes and
beginnings of sickness. For without this they could do no hurt, but
would vanish and fade away if there were lowness of blood and pureness
of spirit to receive the motion, which in fulness and superabundance,
as in disturbed mud, makes all things polluted, troublesome, and hardly
recoverable. We ought not to imitate the good mariner who out of
covetousness loads his ship hard and afterwards labors hard to throw
out the salt water, by first clogging and overcharging our bodies and
endeavoring afterwards to clear them by purges and clysters; but we
ought to keep our bodies in right order, that if at any time they
should be oppressed, their lightness may keep them up like a cork.

11. We ought chiefly to be careful in all predispositions and
forewarnings of sickness. For all distempers do not invade us, as
Hesiod expresses it,—

    In silence,—for the Gods have struck them dumb;[121]

but the most of them have ill digestion and a kind of a laziness,
which are the forerunners and harbingers that give us warning. Sudden
heaviness and weariness tell us a distemper is not far off, as
Hippocrates affirms, by reason (it seems) of that fulness which doth
oppress and load the spirit in the nerves. Some men, when their bodies
all but contradict them and invite them to a couch and repose, through
gluttony and love of pleasure throw themselves into a bath or make
haste to some drinking meeting, as if they were laying in for a siege;
being mightily in fear lest the fever should seize them before they
have dined. Those who pretend to more elegance are not caught in this
manner, but foolishly enough; for, being ashamed to own their qualms
and debauch or to keep house all day, when others call them to go with
them to the gymnasium, they arise and pull off their clothes with them,
doing the same things which they do that are in health. Intemperance
and effeminacy make many fly for patronage to the proverb, Wine is
best after wine, and one debauch is the way to drive out another. This
excites their hopes, and persuades and urges them to rise from their
beds and rashly to fall to their wonted excesses. Against which hope
he ought to set that prudent advice of Cato, when he says that great
things ought to be made less, and the lesser to be quite left off;
and that it is better to abstain to no purpose and be at quiet, than
to run ourselves into hazard by forcing ourselves either to bath or
dinner. For if there be any ill in it, it is an injury to us that we
did not watch over ourselves and refrain; but if there be none, it is
no inconvenience to your body to have abstained and be made more pure
by it. He is but a child who is afraid lest his friends and servants
should perceive that he is sick either of a surfeit or a debauch. He
that is ashamed to confess the crudity of his stomach to-day will
to-morrow with shame confess that he has either a diarrhoea, a fever,
or the griping in the guts. You think it is a disgrace to want, but it
is a greater disgrace to bear the crudity, heaviness, and fulness of
your body, when it has to be carried into the bath, like a rotten and
leaky boat into the sea. As some seamen are ashamed to live on shore
when there is a storm at sea, yet when they are at sea lie shamefully
crying and retching to vomit; so in any suspicion or tendency of the
body to any disease, they think it an indecorum to keep their bed one
day and not to have their table spread, yet most shamefully for many
days together are forced to be purged and plastered, flattering and
obeying their physicians, asking for wine or cold water, being forced
to do and say many unseasonable and absurd things, by reason of the
pain and fear they are in. Those therefore who cannot govern themselves
on account of pleasures, but yield to their lusts and are carried away
by them, may opportunely be taught and put in mind that they receive
the greatest share of their pleasures from their bodies.

12. And as the Spartans gave the cook vinegar and salt, and bade him
look for the rest in the victim, so in our bodies, the best sauce to
whatsoever is brought before us is that our bodies are pure and in
health. For any thing that is sweet or costly is so in its own nature
and apart from any thing else; but it becomes sweet to the taste only
when it is in a body which is delighted with it and which is disposed
as nature doth require. But in those bodies which are foul, surfeited,
and not pleased with it, it loses its beauty and convenience.
Wherefore we need not be concerned whether fish be fresh or bread fine,
or whether the bath be warm or your she-friend a beauty; but whether
you are not squeamish and foul, whether you are not disturbed and do
not feel the dregs of yesterday’s debauch. Otherwise it will be as when
some drunken revellers break into a house where they are mourning,
bringing neither mirth nor pleasure with them, but increasing the
lamentation. So Venus, meats, baths, and wines, in a body that is crazy
and out of order, mingled with what is vitiated and corrupted, stir
up phlegm and choler, and create great trouble; neither do they bring
any pleasure that is answerable to their expectations, or worth either
enjoying or speaking of.

13. A diet which is very exact and precisely according to rule puts
one’s body both in fear and danger; it hinders the gallantry of our
soul itself, makes it suspicious of every thing or of having to do
with any thing, no less in pleasures than in labors; so that it dares
not undertake any thing boldly and courageously. We ought to do by our
body as by the sail of a ship in fair and clear weather:—we must not
contract it and draw it in too much, nor be too remiss or negligent
about it when we have any suspicion upon us, but give it some allowance
and make it pliable (as we have said), and not wait for crudities and
diarrhoeas, or heat or drowsiness, by which some, as by messengers and
apparitors, are frighted and moderate themselves when a fever is at
hand; but we must long beforehand guard against the storm, as if the
north wind blew at sea.

14. It is absurd, as Democritus says, by the croaking of ravens, the
crowing of a cock, or the wallowing of a sow in the mire, carefully to
observe the signs of windy or rainy weather, and not to prevent and
guard ourselves against the motions and fluctuations of our bodies or
the indication of a distemper, nor to understand the signs of a storm
which is just ready to break forth within ourselves. So that we are
not only to observe our bodies as to meat and exercise, whether they
use them more sluggishly or unwillingly than they were wont; or whether
we be more thirsty and hungry than we use to be; but we are also to
take care as to our sleep, whether it be continued and easy, or whether
it be irregular and convulsive. For absurd dreams and irregular and
unusual fantasies show either abundance or thickness of humors, or
else a disturbance of the spirits within. For the motions of the soul
show that the body is nigh a distemper. For there are despondencies of
mind and fears that are without reason or any apparent cause, which
extinguish our hopes on a sudden. Some there are that are sharp and
prone to anger, whom a little thing makes sad; and these cry and are
in great trouble when ill vapors and fumes meet together and (as Plato
says) are intermingled in the ways and passages of the soul. Wherefore
those to whom such things happen must consider and remember, that even
if there be nothing spiritual, there is some bodily cause which needs
to be brought away and purged.

15. Besides, it is profitable for him who visits his friends in their
sickness to enquire after the causes of it. Let us not sophistically
or impertinently discourse about lodgements, irruptions of blood,
and commonplaces, merely to show our skill in the terms of art which
are used in medicine. But when we have with diligence heard such
trivial and common things discoursed of as fulness or emptiness,
weariness, lack of sleep, and (above all) the diet which the patient
kept before he fell sick, then,—as Plato used to ask himself, after
the miscarriage of other men he had been with, Am not I also such a
one?—so ought we to take care by our neighbor’s misfortunes, and
diligently to beware that we do not fall into them, and afterwards cry
out upon our sick-bed, How precious above all other things is health!
When another is in sickness, let it teach us how valuable a treasure
health is, which we ought to keep and preserve with all possible care.
Neither will it be amiss for every man to look into his own diet. If
therefore we have been eating, drinking, laboring, or doing any thing
to excess, and our bodies give us no suspicion or hint of a distemper,
yet ought we nevertheless to stand upon our guard and take care of
ourselves,—if it be after venery and labor, by giving of ourselves
rest and quiet; if after drinking of wine and feasting, by drinking of
water; but especially, after we have fed on flesh or solid meats or
eaten divers things, by abstinence, that we may leave no superfluity
in our bodies; for these very things, as they are the cause of many
diseases, likewise administer matter and force to other causes.
Wherefore it was very well said, that to eat—but not to satiety, to
labor—but not to weariness, and to keep in nature, are of all things
the most healthful. For intemperance in venery takes away that by which
vigor our nourishment is elaborated, and causes more superfluity and
redundance.

16. But we shall begin and treat of each of these, and first we shall
discourse of those exercises which are proper for a scholar. And as
he that said he should prescribe nothing for the teeth to them that
dwelt by the seaside taught them the benefit of the sea-water, so one
would think that there was no need of writing to scholars concerning
exercise. For it is wonderful what an exercise the daily use of speech
is, not only as to health but even to strength. I mean not fleshly and
athletic health, or such as makes one’s external parts firm, like the
outside of a house, but such as gives a right tone and inward vigor to
the vital and noble parts. And that the vital spirit increases strength
is made plain by them who anointed the wrestlers, who commanded them,
when their limbs were rubbed, to withstand such frictions in some sort,
in holding their wind, observing carefully those parts of the body
which were smeared and rubbed.[122] Now the voice, being a motion of
the spirit, not superficially but firmly seated in the bowels, as it
were in a fountain, increases the heat, thins the blood, purges every
vein, opens all the arteries, neither does it permit the coagulation or
condensation of any superfluous humor, which would settle like dregs
in those vessels which receive and work our nourishment. Wherefore we
ought by much speaking to accustom ourselves to this exercise, and
make it familiar to us; and if we suspect that our bodies are weaker
or more tired than ordinary, by reading or reciting. For what riding
in a coach is compared with bodily exercise, that is reading compared
with disputing, if you carry your voice softly and low, as it were
in the chariot of another man’s words. For disputes bring with them
a vehemence and contention, adding the labor of the mind to that of
the body. All passionate noise, and such as would force our lungs,
ought to be avoided; for irregular and violent strains of our voice
may break something within us, or bring us into convulsions. But when
a student has either read or disputed, before he walks abroad, he
ought to make use of a gentle and tepid friction, to open the pores
of his body, as much as is possible, even to his very bowels, that so
his spirits may gently and quietly diffuse themselves to the extreme
parts of his body. The bounds that this friction ought not to exceed
are, that it be done no longer than it is pleasant to our sense and
without pain. For he that so allays the disturbance which is within
himself and the agitation of his spirits will not be troubled by that
superfluity which remains in him; and if it be unseasonable for to
walk, or if his business hinder him, it is no great matter; for nature
has already received satisfaction. Whether one be at sea or in a public
inn, it is not necessary that he should be silent, though all the
company laugh at him. For where it is no shame to eat, it is certainly
no shame to exercise yourself; but it is worse to stand in awe of and
be troubled with seamen, carriers, and innkeepers, that laugh at you
not because you play at ball or fight a shadow, but because in your
discourse you exercise yourself by teaching others, or by enquiring
and learning something yourself, or else by calling to mind something.
For Socrates said, he that uses the exercise of dancing had need
have a room big enough to hold seven beds; but he that makes either
singing or discourse his exercise may do it either standing or lying
in any place. But this one thing we must observe, that when we are
conscious to ourselves that we are too full, or have been concerned
with Venus, or labored hard, we do not too much strain our voice, as
so many rhetoricians and readers in philosophy do, some of whom out
of glory and ambition, some for reward or private contentions, have
forced themselves beyond what has been convenient. Our Niger, when he
was teaching philosophy in Galatia, by chance swallowed the bone of
a fish; but a stranger coming to teach in his place, Niger, fearing
he might run away with his repute, continued to read his lectures,
though the bone still stuck in his throat; from whence a great and hard
inflammation arising, he, being unable to undergo the pain, permitted
a deep incision to be made, by which wound the bone was taken out; but
the wound growing worse, and rheum falling upon it, it killed him. But
this may be mentioned hereafter in its proper place.

17. After exercise to use a cold bath is boyish, and has more
ostentation in it than health; for though it may seem to harden our
bodies and make them not so subject to outward accidents, yet it
does more prejudice to the inward parts, by hindering transpiration,
fixing the humors, and condensing those vapors which love freedom and
transpiration. Besides, necessity will force those who use cold baths
into that exact and accurate way of diet they would so much avoid, and
make them take care they be not in the least extravagant, for every
such error is sure to receive a bitter reproof. But a warm bath is much
more pardonable, for it does not so much destroy our natural vigor
and strength as it does conduce to our health, laying a soft and easy
foundation for concoction, preparing those things for digestion which
are not easily digested without any pain (if they be not very crude
and deep lodged), and freeing us from all inward weariness. But when
we do sensibly perceive our bodies to be indifferent well, or as they
ought to be, we should omit bathing, and anoint ourselves by the fire;
which is better if the body stand in need of heat, for it dispenses a
warmth throughout. But we should make use of the sun more or less, as
the temper of the air permits. So much may suffice to have been said
concerning exercises.

18. As for what has been said of diet before, if any part of it be
profitable in instructing us how we should allay and bring down our
appetites, there yet remains one thing more to be advised: that if
it be troublesome to treat one’s belly like one broke loose, and to
contend with it though it has no ears (as Cato said), then ought we
to take care that the quality of what we eat may make the quantity
more light; and we should eat cautiously of such food as is solid and
most nourishing (for it is hard always to refuse it), such as flesh,
cheese, dried figs, and boiled eggs; but more freely of those things
which are thin and light, such as moist herbs, fowl, and fish if it
be not too fat; for he that eats such things as these may gratify his
appetite, and yet not oppress his body. But ill digestion is chiefly to
be feared after flesh, for it presently very much clogs us and leaves
ill relics behind it. It would be best to accustom one’s self to eat
no flesh at all, for the earth affords plenty enough of things fit not
only for nourishment, but for delight and enjoyment; some of which you
may eat without much preparation, and others you may make pleasant by
adding divers other things to them. But since custom is almost a second
nature, we may eat flesh, but not to the cloying of our appetites, like
wolves or lions, but only to lay as it were a foundation and bulwark
for our nourishment,—and then come to other meats and sauces which
are more agreeable to the nature of our bodies and do less dull our
rational soul, which seems to be enlivened by a light and brisk diet.

19. As for liquids, we should never make milk our drink, but rather
take it as food, it yielding much solid nourishment. As for wine, we
must say to it what Euripides said to Venus:—

    Thy joys with moderation I would have,
    And that I ne’er may want them humbly crave.

For wine is the most beneficial of all drinks, the pleasantest
medicine in the world, and of all dainties the least cloying to the
appetite, provided more regard be given to the opportunity of the
time of drinking it than even to its being properly mixed with water.
Water, not only when it is mixed with wine, but also if it be drunk by
itself between mixed wine and water, makes the mingled wine the less
hurtful. We should accustom ourselves therefore in our daily diet to
drink two or three glasses of water, which will allay the strength of
the wine, and make drinking of water familiar to our body, that so
in a case of necessity it may not be looked on as a stranger, and we
be offended at it. It so falls out, that some have then the greatest
inclination for wine when there is most need they should drink water;
for such men, when they have been exposed to great heat of the sun, or
have fallen into a chill, or have been speaking vehemently, or have
been more than ordinarily thoughtful about any thing, or after any
fatigue or labor, are of the opinion that they ought to drink wine,
as if nature required some repose for the body and some diversion
after its labors. But nature requires no such repose (if you will
call pleasure repose), but desires only such an alteration as shall
be between pleasure and pain; in which case we ought to abate of our
diet, and either wholly abstain from wine, or drink it allayed with
very much mixture of water. For wine, being sharp and fiery, increases
the disturbances of the body, exasperates them, and wounds the parts
affected; which stand more in need of being comforted and smoothed,
which water does the best of any thing. If, when we are not thirsty,
we drink warm water after labor, exercise, or heat, we find our inward
parts loosened and smoothed by it; for the moisture of water is gentle
and not violent, but that of wine carries a great force in it, which is
no ways agreeable in the fore-mentioned cases. And if any one should
be afraid that abstinence would bring upon the body that acrimony and
bitterness which some say it will, he is like those children who think
themselves much wronged because they may not eat just before the fit
of a fever. The best mean between both these is drinking of water. We
oftentimes sacrifice to Bacchus himself without wine, doing very well
in accustoming ourselves not to be always desirous of wine. Minos made
the pipe and the crown be laid aside at the sacrifice when there was
mourning. And yet we know an afflicted mind is not at all affected by
either the pipe or crown; but there is no body so strong, to which, in
commotion or a fever, wine does not do a great deal of injury.

20. The Lydians are reported in a famine to have spent one day in
eating, and the next in sports and drollery. But a lover of learning
and a friend to the Muses, when at any time he is forced to sup later
than ordinary, will not be so much a slave to his belly as to lay
aside a geographical scheme when it is before him, or his book, or his
lyre; but strenuously turning himself, and taking his mind off from
eating, he will in the Muses’ name drive away all such desires, as so
many Harpies, from his table. Will not the Scythian in the midst of his
cups oftentimes handle his bow and twang the string, thereby rousing up
himself from that drunkenness in which he was immersed? Will a Greek be
afraid, because he is laughed at, by books and letters gently to loosen
and unbend any blind and obstinate desire? The young men in Menander,
when they were drinking, were trepanned by a bawd, which brought in to
them a company of handsome and richly attired women; but every one, as
he said,

    Cast down his eyes and fell to junketing,—

not one daring to look upon them. Lovers of learning have many fair
and pleasant diversions, if they can no other way keep in their canine
and brutish appetites when they see the table spread. The bawling of
such fellows as anoint wrestlers, and the opinion of pedagogues that it
hinders our nourishment and dulls one’s head to discourse of learning
at table, are indeed of some force then, when we are called upon to
solve a fallacy like the _Indus_ or to dispute about the _Kyrieuon_
at a feast. For though the pith of the palm-tree is very sweet, yet
they say it will cause the headache. To discourse of logic at meals is
not indeed a very delicious banquet, is rather troublesome, and pains
one’s head; but if there be any who will not give us leave to discourse
philosophically or ask any question or read any thing at table, though
it be of those things which are not only decent and profitable but
also pleasantly merry, we will desire them not to trouble us, but to
talk in this style to the athletes in the Xystum and the Palaestra,
who have laid aside their books and are wont to spend their whole time
in jeers and scurrilous jests, being, as Aristo wittily expresses it,
smooth and hard, like the pillars in the gymnasium. But we must obey
our physicians, who advise us to keep some interval between supper and
sleep, and not to heap up together a great deal of victuals in our
stomachs and so shorten our breath (lest we presently by crude and
fermenting aliment overcharge our digestion), but rather to take some
space and breathing-time before we sleep. As those who have a mind to
exercise themselves after supper do not do it by running or wrestling,
but rather by gentle exercise, such as walking or dancing; so when we
intend to exercise our minds after supper, we are not to do it with any
thing of business or care, or with those sophistical disputes which
bring us into a vain-glorious and violent contention. But there are
many questions in natural philosophy which are easy to discuss and to
decide; there are many disquisitions which relate to manners, which
please the mind (as Homer expresses it) and do no way discompose it.
Questions in history and poetry have been by some ingeniously called
a second course to a learned man and a scholar. There are discourses
which are no way troublesome; and, besides, fables may be told. Nay, it
is easier to discourse of the pipe and lyre, or hear them discoursed
of, than it is to hear either of them played on. The quantity of time
allowed for this exercise is till our meat be gently settled within us,
so that our digestion may have power enough to master it.

21. Aristotle is of opinion that to walk after supper stirs up our
natural heat; but to sleep, if it be soon after, chokes it. Others
again say that rest aids digestion, and that motion disturbs it. Hence
some walk immediately after supper; others choose rather to keep
themselves still. But that man seems to obtain the design of both, who
cherishes and keeps his body quiet, not immediately suffering his mind
to become heavy and idle, but (as has been said) gently distributing
and lightening his spirits by either hearing or speaking some pleasant
thing, such as will neither molest nor oppress him.

22. Medicinal vomits and purges, which are the bitter reliefs of
gluttony, are not to be attempted without great necessity. The manner
of many is to fill themselves because they are empty, and again,
because they are full, to empty themselves contrary to nature, being
no less tormented with being full than being empty; or rather, they
are troubled at their fulness, as being a hindrance of their appetite,
and are always emptying themselves, that they may make room for new
enjoyment. The damage in these cases is evident; for the body is
disordered and torn by both these. It is an inconvenience that always
attends a vomit, that it increases and gives nourishment to this
insatiable humor. For it engenders hunger, as violent and turbulent
as a roaring torrent, which continually annoys a man, and forces him
to his meat, not like a natural appetite that calls for food, but
rather like inflammation that calls for plasters and physic. Wherefore
his pleasures are short and imperfect, and in the enjoyment are very
furious and unquiet; upon which there come distentions, and affections
of the pores, and retentions of the spirits, which will not wait for
the natural evacuations, but run over the surface of the body, so that
it is like an overloaded ship, where it is more necessary to throw
something overboard than to take any thing more in. Those disturbances
in our bellies which are caused by physic corrupt and consume our
inward parts, and do rather increase our superfluous humors than bring
them away; which is as if one that was troubled at the number of Greeks
that inhabited the city, should call in the Arabians and Scythians.

Some are so much mistaken that, in order that they may void their
customary and natural superfluities, they take Cnidian-berries or
scammony, or some other harsh and incongruous physic, which is more fit
to be carried away by purge than it is able to purge us. It is best
therefore by a moderate and regular diet to keep our body in order,
so that it may command itself as to fulness or emptiness. If at any
time there be a necessity, we may take a vomit, but without physic or
much tampering, and such a one as will not cause any great disturbance,
only enough to save us from indigestion by casting up gently what is
superfluous. For as linen cloths, when they are washed with soap and
nitre, are more worn out than when they are washed with water only, so
physical vomits corrupt and destroy the body. If at any time we are
costive, there is no medicine better than some sort of food which will
purge you gently and with ease, the trial of which is familiar to all,
and the use without any pain. But if it will not yield to those, we may
drink water for some days, or fast, or take a clyster, rather than take
any troublesome purging physic; which most men are inclined to do, like
that sort of women which take things on purpose to miscarry, that they
may be empty and begin afresh.

23. But to be done with these, there are some on the other side who are
too exact in enjoining themselves to periodical and set fasts, doing
amiss in teaching nature to want coercion when there is no occasion
for it, and making that abstinence necessary which is not so, and
all this at times when nature requires her accustomed way of living.
It is better to use those injunctions we lay upon our bodies with
more freedom, even when we have no ill symptom or suspicion upon us;
and so to order our diet (as has been said), that our bodies may be
always obedient to any change, and not be enslaved or tied up to one
manner of living, nor so exact in regarding the times, numbers, and
periods of our actions. For it is a life neither safe, easy, politic,
nor like a man, but more like the life of an oyster or the trunk of a
tree, to live so without any variety, and in restraint as to our meat,
abstinence, motion, and rest; casting ourselves into a gloomy, idle,
solitary, unsociable, and inglorious way of living, far remote from the
administration of the state,—at least (I may say) in my opinion.

24. For health is not to be purchased by sloth and idleness, for those
are chief inconveniences of sickness; and there is no difference
between him who thinks to enjoy his health by idleness and quiet, and
him who thinks to preserve his eyes by not using them, and his voice
by not speaking. For such a man’s health will not be any advantage
to him in the performance of many things he is obliged to do as a
man. Idleness can never be said to conduce to health, for it destroys
the very end of it. Nor is it true that they are the most healthful
that do least. For Xenocrates was not more healthful than Phocion, or
Theophrastus than Demetrius. It signified nothing to Epicurus or his
followers, as to that so much talked of good habit of body, that they
declined all business, though it were never so honorable. We ought to
preserve the natural constitution of our bodies by other means, knowing
every part of our life is capable of sickness and health.

The contrary advice to that which Plato gave his scholars is to be
given to those who are concerned in public business. For he was wont to
say, whenever he left his school; Go to, my boys, see that you employ
your leisure in some honest sport and pastime. Now to those that are in
public office our advice is, that they bestow their labor on honest and
necessary things, not tiring their bodies with small or inconsiderable
things. For most men upon accident torment themselves with watchings,
journeyings, and running up and down, for no advantage and with no good
design, but only that they may do others an injury, or because they
envy them or are competitors with them, or because they hunt after
unprofitable and empty glory. To such as these I think Democritus
chiefly spoke, when he said, that if the body should summon the soul
before a court on an action for ill-treatment, the soul would lose
the case. And perhaps on the other hand Theophrastus spoke well, when
he said metaphorically, that the soul pays a dear house-rent to its
landlord the body. But still the body is very much more inconvenienced
by the soul, when it is used beyond reason and there is not care enough
taken of it. For when it is in passion, action, or any concern, it does
not at all consider the body. Jason, being some-what out of humor,
said, that in little things we ought not to stand upon justice, so that
in greater things we may be sure to do it. We, and that in reason,
advise any public man to trifle and play with little things, and in
such cases to indulge himself, so that in worthy and great concerns he
may not bring a dull, tired, and weary body, but one that is the better
for having lain still, like a ship in the dock, that when the soul has
occasion again to call it into business, “it may run with her, like a
sucking colt with the mare.”

25. Upon which account, when business gives us leave, we ought to
refresh our bodies, grudging them neither sleep nor dinner nor that
ease which is the medium between pain and pleasure; not taking that
course which most men do, who thereby wear out their bodies by the many
changes they expose them to, making them like hot iron thrown into cold
water, by softening and troubling them with pleasures, after they have
been very much strained and oppressed with labor. And on the other
side, after they have opened their bodies and made them tender either
by wine or venery, they exercise them either at the bar or at court,
or enter upon some other business which requires earnest and vigorous
action. Heraclitus, when he was in a dropsy, desired his physician to
bring a drought upon his body, for it had a glut of rain. Most men are
very much in the wrong who, after being tired or having labored or
fasted, moisten (as it were) and dissolve their bodies in pleasure,
and again force and distend them after those pleasures. Nature does
not require that we should make the body amends at that rate. But an
intemperate and slavish mind, so soon as it is free from labor, like a
sailor, runs insolently into pleasures and delights, and again falls
upon business, so that nature can have no rest or leave to enjoy that
temper and calmness which it does desire, but is troubled and tormented
by all this irregularity. Those that have any discretion never so
much as offer pleasure to the body when it is laboring,—for at such
times they do not require it at all,—nor do they so much as think of
it, their minds being intent upon that employ they are in, either the
delight or diligence of the soul getting the mastery over all other
desires. Epaminondas is reported wittily to have said of a good man
that died about the time of the battle of Leuctra, How came he to have
so much leisure as to die, when there was so much business stirring?
It may truly be asked concerning a man that is either of public employ
or a scholar, What time can such a man spare, either to debauch his
stomach or be drunk or lascivious? For such men, after they have done
their business, allow quiet and repose to their bodies, reckoning not
only unprofitable pains but unnecessary pleasures to be enemies to
nature, and avoiding them as such.

26. I have heard that Tiberius Caesar was wont to say, that he was a
ridiculous man that held forth his hand to a physician after sixty. But
it seems to me to be a little too severely said. But this is certain,
that every man ought to have skill in his own pulse, for it is very
different in every man; neither ought he to be ignorant of the temper
of his own body, as to heat and cold, or what things do him good, and
what hurt. For he has no sense, and is both a blind and lame inhabitant
of his body, that must learn these things from another, and must ask
his physicians whether it is better with him in winter or summer;
or whether moist or dry things agree best with him, or whether his
pulse be frequent or slow. For it is necessary and easy to know such
things by custom and experience. It is convenient to understand more
what meats and drinks are wholesome than what are pleasant, and to
have more skill in what is good for the stomach than in what seems
good to the mouth, and in those things that are easy of digestion than
in those that gratify our palate. For it is no less scandalous to
ask a physician what is easy and what is hard of digestion, and what
will agree with your stomach and what not, than it is to ask what is
sweet, and what bitter, and what sour. They nowadays correct their
cooks, being able well enough to tell what is too sweet, too salt, or
too sour, but themselves do not know what will be light or easy of
digestion, and agreeable to them. Therefore in the seasoning of broth
they seldom err, but they do so scurvily pickle themselves every day
as to afford work enough for the physician. For that pottage is not
accounted best that is the sweetest, but they mingle bitter and sweet
together. But they force the body to partake of many, and those cloying
pleasures, either not knowing, or not remembering, that to things that
are good and wholesome nature adds a pleasure unmingled with any regret
or repentance afterward. We ought also to know what things are cognate
and convenient to our bodies, and be able to direct a proper diet to
any one upon any change of weather or other circumstance.

27. As for those inconveniences which sordidness and poverty bring upon
many, as gathering of fruit, continual labor, and running about, and
want of rest, which fall heavy upon the weaker parts of the body and
such as are inwardly infirm, we need not fear that any man of employ or
scholar—to whom our present discourse belongs—should be troubled with
them. But there is a severe sort of sordidness as to their studies,
which they ought to avoid, by which they are forced many times to
neglect their body, oftentimes denying it a supply when it has done
its work, making the mortal part of us do its share in work as well as
the immortal, and the earthly part as much as the heavenly. But, as
the ox said to his fellow-servant the camel, when he refused to ease
him of his burthen, It won’t be long before you carry my burthen and
me too: which fell out to be true, when the ox died. So it happens to
the mind, when it refuses that little relaxation and comfort which it
needs in its labor; for a little while after a fever or vertigo seizes
us, and then reading, discoursing, and disputing must be laid aside,
and it is forced to partake of the body’s distemper. Plato therefore
rightly exhorts us not to employ the mind without the body, nor the
body without the mind, but to drive them equally like a pair of horses;
and when at any time the body toils and labors with the mind, then to
be the more careful of it, and thus to gain its well-beloved health,
believing that it obliges us with the best of things when it is no
impediment to our knowledge and enjoyment of virtue, either in business
or discourse.




HOW A MAN MAY RECEIVE ADVANTAGE AND PROFIT FROM HIS ENEMIES.


1. Not to mention, Cornelius Pulcher, your gentle as well as skilful
administration of public affairs, for which goodness and humanity
you have gotten an interest in mankind, we clearly perceive that in
your private conversation you have made a quiet and peaceable way
of living your choice and continual practice. By this means you are
justly esteemed a useful member of the commonwealth in general, and
also a friendly affable companion to those who familiarly converse
with you, as being a person free from all sour, rough, and peevish
humors. For, as it is said of Crete, we may by great chance discover
one single region of the world that never afforded any dens or coverts
for wild beasts. But through the long succession of ages, even to this
time, there scarce ever was a state or kingdom that hath not suffered
under envy, hatred, emulation, the love of strife, fierce and unruly
passions, of all others the most productive of enmity and ill-will
among men. Nay, if nothing else will bring it to pass, familiarity will
at last breed contempt, and the very friendship of men doth frequently
draw them into quarrels, that prove sharp and sometimes implacable.
Which that wise man Chilo did well understand, who, when he heard
another assert that he had no enemy, asked him very pertinently whether
he had no friend. In my judgment therefore it is absolutely necessary
that a man, especially if he sit at the helm and be engaged to steer
the government, should watchfully observe every posture and motion of
his enemy, and subscribe to Xenophon’s opinion in this case; who hath
set it down as a maxim of the greatest wisdom, that a man should make
the best advantage he can of him that is his adversary.

Wherefore, having lately determined to write somewhat on this argument,
I have now gathered together all my scattered thoughts and meditations
upon it, which I have sent to you, digested into as plain a method as
I could; forbearing all along to mention those observations I have
heretofore made and written in my Political Precepts, because I know
you have that treatise at your hand, and often under your eye.

2. Our ancestors were well satisfied and content if they could safely
guard themselves from the violent incursions of wild beasts, and this
was the end and object of all their contests with these creatures.
But their posterity have laid down their weapons of defence, and have
invented a quite contrary use of them, making them serviceable to some
of the chief ends of human life. For their flesh serves for food, and
their hair for clothing; medicines and antidotes are devised out of
their entrails; and their skins are converted into armor. So that we
may upon good grounds fear that, if these supplies should fail, their
manner of life would appear savage, destitute of convenient food and
raiment, barbarous and naked.

Although we receive these benefits and comforts from the very beasts,
yet some men suppose themselves happy and secure enough, provided they
escape all harm from enemies, not regarding Xenophon’s judgment, whom
they ought to credit in this matter, that every man endowed with common
sense and understanding may, if he please, make his opposites very
useful and profitable to him.

Because then we cannot live in this world out of the neighborhood of
such as will continually labor to do us injury or oppose us, let us
search out some way whereby this advantage and profit from enemies may
be acquired.

The best experienced gardener cannot so change the nature of every
tree, that it shall yield pleasant and well-tasted fruit; neither
can the craftiest huntsman tame every beast. One therefore makes the
best use he can of his trees, the other of his beast; although the
first perhaps are barren and dry, the latter wild and ungovernable.
So seawater is unwholesome and not to be drunk; yet it affords
nourishment to all sorts of fish, and serves as it were for a chariot
to convey those who visit foreign countries. The Satyr would have
kissed and embraced the fire the first time he saw it; but Prometheus
bids him take heed, else he might have cause to lament the loss of
his beard,[123] if he came too near that which burns all it touches.
Yet this very fire is a most beneficial thing to mankind; it bestows
upon us the blessings both of light and heat, and serves those who
know how to use it for the most excellent instrument of mechanic arts.
Directed by these examples, we may be able to take right measures of
our enemies, considering that by one handle or other we may lay hold of
them for the use and benefit of our lives; though otherwise they may
appear very untractable and hurtful to us.

There are many things which, when we have obtained them by much labor
and sweat, become nauseous, ungrateful, and directly contrary to our
inclinations; but there are some (you know) who can turn the very
indispositions of their bodies into an occasion of rest and freedom
from business. And hard pains that have fallen upon many men have
rendered them only the more robust through vigorous exercise. There
are others who, as Diogenes and Crates did, have made banishment from
their native country and loss of all their goods a means to pass out
of a troublesome world into the quiet and serene state of philosophy
and mental contemplation. So the Stoic Zeno welcomed the good fortune,
when he heard the ship was broken wherein his adventures were, because
she had reduced him to a torn coat, to the safety and innocence of a
mean and low condition. For as some creatures of strong constitutions
eat serpents and digest them well,—nay, there are some whose stomachs
can by a strange powerful heat concoct shells or stones,—while on
the contrary, there are the weak and diseased, who loathe even bread
and wine, the most agreeable and best supports of human life; so the
foolish and inconsiderate spoil the very friendships they are engaged
in, but the wise and prudent make good use of the hatred and enmity of
men.

3. To those then who are discreet and cautious, the most malignant
and worst part of enmity becomes advantageous and useful. But what
is this you talk of all this while? An enemy is ever diligent and
watchful to contrive stratagems and lay snares for us, not omitting any
opportunity whereby he may carry on his malicious purposes. He lays
siege to our whole life, and turns spy into the most minute action
of it; not as Lynceus is said to look into oaks and stones, but by
arts of insinuation he gets to the knowledge of our secrets, by our
bosom friend, domestic servant, and intimate acquaintance. As much as
possibly he can, he enquires what we have done, and labors to dive into
the most hidden counsels of our minds. Nay, our friends do often escape
our notice, either when they die or are sick, because we are careless
and neglect them; but we are apt to examine and pry curiously almost
into the very dreams of our enemies.

Now our enemy (to gratify his ill-will towards us) doth acquaint
himself with the infirmities both of our bodies and mind, with the
debts we have contracted, and with all the differences that arise
in our families, all which he knows as well, if not better, than
ourselves. He sticks fast to our faults, and chiefly makes his
invidious remarks upon them. Nay, our most depraved affections, that
are the worst distempers of our minds, are always the subjects of his
inquiry; just as vultures pursue putrid flesh, noisome and corrupted
carcasses, because they have no perception of those that are sound and
in health. So our enemies catch at our failings, and then they spread
them abroad by uncharitable and ill-natured reports.

Hence we are taught this useful lesson for the direction and management
of our conversations in the world, that we be circumspect and wary in
every thing we speak or do, as if our enemy always stood at our elbow
and overlooked every action. Hence we learn to lead blameless and
inoffensive lives. This will beget in us vehement desires and earnest
endeavors of restraining disorderly passions. This will fill our minds
with good thoughts and meditations, and with strong resolutions to
proceed in a virtuous and harmless course of life.

For as those commonwealths and cities know best how to value the
happiness of having good and wholesome laws, and most admire and love
the safety of a quiet and peaceable constitution of things, which have
been harassed by wars with their neighbors or by long expeditions;
so those persons who have been brought to live soberly by the fear
and awe of enemies, who have learned to guard against negligence and
idleness, and to do every thing with a view to some profitable end,
are by degrees (they know not how) drawn into a habit of living so as
to offend nobody, and their manners are composed and fixed in their
obedience to virtue by custom and use, with very little help from the
reason. For they always carry in their minds that saying of Homer, if
we act any thing amiss,

    Priam will laugh at us, and all his brood;

our enemies will please themselves and scoff at our defects; therefore
we will do nothing that is ridiculous, sinful, base, or ignoble, lest
we become a laughing-stock to such as do not love us.

In the theatre we often see great artists in music and singing very
supine and remiss, doing nothing as they should, whilst they play or
sing alone; but whenever they challenge one another and contend for
mastery, they do not only rouse up themselves, but they tune their
instruments more carefully, they are more curious in the choice of
their strings, and they try their notes in frequent and more harmonious
consorts. Just so a man who hath an adversary perpetually to rival
him in the well ordering of his life and reputation is thereby
rendered more prudent in what he does, looks after his actions more
circumspectly, and takes as much care of the accurateness of them as
the musician does of his lute or organ. For evil hath this peculiar
quality in it, that it dreads an enemy more than a friend. For this
cause Nasica, when some thought the Roman affairs were established for
ever in peace and safety, after they had razed Carthage and enslaved
Greece, declared that even then they were in the greatest danger of all
and most likely to be undone, because there were none left whom they
might still fear and stand in some awe of.

4. And here may be inserted that wise and facetious answer of Diogenes
to one that asked him how he might be revenged of his enemy: The only
way, says he, to gall and fret him effectually is for yourself to
appear a good and honest man. The common people are generally envious
and vexed in their minds, as oft as they see the cattle of those they
have no kindness for, their dogs, or their horses, in a thriving
condition; they sigh, fret, set their teeth, and show all the tokens
of a malicious temper, when they behold their fields well tilled, or
their gardens adorned and beset with flowers. If these things make
them so restless and uneasy, what dost thou think they would do, what
a torment would it be to them, if thou shouldst demonstrate thyself
in the face of the world to be in all thy carriage a man of impartial
justice, a sound understanding, unblamable integrity, of a ready and
eloquent speech, sincere and upright in all your dealings, sober and
temperate in all that you eat or drink;

    While from the culture of a prudent mind,
    Harvests of wise and noble thought you reap.[124]

Those that are conquered, saith Pindar, must seal up their lips; they
dare not open their mouths, no, not even to mutter.[125] But all men
in these circumstances are not so restrained; but such chiefly as come
behind their opposites in the practice of diligence, honesty, greatness
of mind, humanity, and beneficence. These are beautiful and glorious
virtues, as Demosthenes[126] says, that are too pure and great to be
touched by an ill tongue, that stop the mouths of backbiters, choke
them and command them to be silent. Make it thy business therefore to
surpass the base; for this surely thou canst do.[127] If we would vex
them that hate us, we must not reproach our adversary for an effeminate
and debauched person, or one of a boorish and filthy conversation;
but instead of throwing this dirt, we ourselves must be remarkable
for a steady virtue and a well-governed behavior; we must speak the
truth, and carry ourselves civilly and justly towards all who hold any
correspondence or maintain any commerce with us. But if at any time a
man is so transported by passion as to utter any bitter words, he must
take heed that he himself be not chargeable for those crimes for which
he upbraids others; he must descend into himself, examine and cleanse
his own breast, that no putrefaction nor rottenness be lodged there;
otherwise he will be condemned as the physician is by the tragedian:—

    Wilt thou heal others, thou thyself being full of sores?[128]

If a man should jeer you and say that you are a dunce and illiterate,
upon this motive you ought to apply your mind to the taking of pains
in the study of philosophy and all kinds of learning. If he abuses you
for a coward, then raise up your mind to a courageous manliness and
an undaunted boldness of spirit. If he tells you you are lascivious
and wanton, this scandal may be wiped off by having your mind barred
up against all impressions of lust, and your discourse free from the
least obscenity. These are allowable returns, and the most cutting
strokes you can give your enemy; there being nothing that carries in it
more vexation and disgrace, than that scandalous censures should fall
back upon the head of him who was the first author of them. For as the
beams of the sun reverberated do most severely affect and punish weak
eyes, so those calumnies are most vexatious and intolerable which truth
retorts back upon their first broachers. For as the north-east wind
gathers clouds, so does a vicious life gather unto itself opprobrious
speeches.

5. Insomuch that Plato, when he was in company with any persons that
were guilty of unhandsome actions, was wont thus to reflect upon
himself and ask this question, Am I of the like temper and disposition
with these men? In like manner, whosoever passes a hard censure upon
another man’s life should presently make use of self-examination, and
enquire what his own is; by which means he will come to know what
his failings are, and how to amend them. Thus the very censures and
backbitings of his enemy will redound to his advantage, although in
itself this censorious humor is a very vain, empty, and useless thing.
For every one will laugh at and deride that man who is humpbacked and
baldpated, while at the same time he makes sport with the natural
deformities of his brethren; it being a very ridiculous unaccountable
thing to scoff at another for those very imperfections for which you
yourself may be abused. As Leo Byzantinus replied upon the humpbacked
man, who in drollery reflected on the weakness of his eyes, You mock me
for a human infirmity, but you bear the marks of divine vengeance on
your own back.

Wherefore no man should arraign another of adultery, when he himself
is addicted to a more bestial vice. Neither may one man justly accuse
another of extravagance or looseness, when he himself is stingy and
covetous. Alcmaeon told Adrastus, that he was near akin to a woman
that killed her husband; to which Adrastus gave a very pat and sharp
answer,—Thou with thy own hands didst murder thy mother.[129] After
the same sarcastical way of jesting did Domitius ask Crassus whether
he did not weep for the death of the lamprey that was bred in his
fish-pond; to which Crassus makes this present reply,—But have I not
heard that you did not weep when you carried out three wives to their
burial.

Whence we may infer that it behooves every man who takes upon him to
correct or censure another not to be too clamorous or merry upon his
faults, but to be guilty of no such crime as may expose him to the
chastisement and reproach of others. For the great God seems to have
given that commandment of _Know thyself_ to those men more especially
who are apt to make remarks upon other men’s actions and forget
themselves. So, as Sophocles hath well observed, They often hear that
which they would not, because they allow themselves the liberty of
talking what they please.

6. This is the use that may be lawfully made of censuring and judging
our enemies; that we may be sure we are not culpable for the same
misdemeanors which we condemn in them. On the contrary, we may reap
no less advantage from our being judged and censured by our enemies.
In this case Antisthenes spake incomparably well, that if a man
would lead a secure and blameless life, it was necessary that he
should have either very ingenuous and honest friends, or very furious
enemies, because the first would keep him from sinning by their kind
admonitions, the latter by their evil words and vehement invectives.

But for as much as in these times friendship is grown almost
speechless, and hath left off that freedom it did once use, since it is
loquacious in flattery and dumb in admonition, therefore we must expect
to hear truth only from the mouths of enemies. As Telephus, when he
could find no physician that he could confide in as his friend, thought
his adversary’s lance would most probably heal his wound; so he that
hath no friend to give him advice and to reprove him in what he acts
amiss must bear patiently the rebukes of an enemy, and thereby learn to
amend the errors of his ways; considering seriously the object which
these severe censures aim at, and not what the person is who makes
them. For as he who designed the death of Prometheus the Thessalian,
instead of giving the fatal blow, only lanced a swelling that he had,
which did really preserve his life and free him from the hazard of
approaching death; just so may the harsh reprehensions of enemies
cure some distempers of the mind that were before either unknown or
neglected, though these angry speeches do originally proceed from
malice and ill-will. But many, when they are accused of a crime, do not
consider whether they are guilty of the matter alleged against them,
but are rather solicitous whether the accuser hath nothing that may be
laid to his charge; like the combatants in a match at wrestling, they
take no care to wipe off the dirt that sticks upon them, but they go on
to besmear one another, and in their mutual strugglings they wallow and
tumble into more dirt and filthiness.

It is a matter of greater importance and concern to a man when he is
lashed by the slanders of an enemy, by living virtuously to prevent
and avert all objections that may be made against his life, than it
is to scour the spots out of his clothes when they are shown him. And
even if any man with opprobrious language object to you crimes you
know nothing of, you ought to enquire into the causes and reasons
of such false accusations, that you may learn to take heed for the
future and be very wary, lest unwittingly you should commit those
offences that are unjustly attributed to you, or something that comes
near them. Lacydes, king of the Argives, was abused as an effeminate
person, because he wore his hair long, used to dress himself neatly,
and his mien was finical. So Pompey, though he was very far from any
effeminate softness, yet was reflected upon and jeered for being used
to scratch his head with one of his fingers. Crassus also suffered
much in the like kind, because sometimes he visited a vestal virgin
and showed great attention to her, having a design to purchase of her
a little farm that lay conveniently for him. So Postumia was suspected
of unchaste actions, and was even brought to trial, because she would
often be very cheerful and discourse freely in men’s company. But she
was found clear of all manner of guilt in that nature. Nevertheless at
her dismission, Spurius Minucius the Pontifex Maximus gave her this
good admonition, that her words should be always as pure, chaste,
and modest as her life was. Themistocles, though he had offended in
nothing, yet was suspected of treachery with Pausanias, because he
corresponded familiarly with him, and used every day to send him
letters and messengers.

7. Whenever then any thing is spoken against you that is not true, do
not pass it by or despise it because it is false, but forthwith examine
yourself, and consider what you have said or done, what you have ever
undertaken, or what converse you have ever had that may have given
likelihood to the slander; and when this is discovered, decline for the
future all things that may provoke any reproachful or foul language
from others.

For if troubles and difficulties, into which some men fall either by
chance or through their own inadvertency and rashness, may teach others
what is fit and safe for them to do,—as Merope says.

    Fortune hath taken for her salary
    My dearest goods, but wisdom she hath given;[130]

why should not we take an enemy for our tutor, who will instruct us
gratis in those things we knew not before? For an enemy sees and
understands more in matters relating to us than our friends do; because
love is blind, as Plato[131] says, in discerning the imperfections of
the thing beloved. But spite, malice, ill-will, wrath, and contempt
talk much, are very inquisitive and quick-sighted. When Hiero was
upbraided by his enemy for having a stinking breath, he returned home
and demanded of his wife why she had not acquainted him with it. The
innocent good woman makes this answer: I thought all men’s breath had
that smell. For those things in men that are conspicuous to all are
sooner understood from the information of enemies than from that of
friends and acquaintance.

8. Furthermore, an exact government of the tongue is a strong evidence
of a good mind, and no inconsiderable part of virtue. But since every
man naturally is desirous to propagate his conceits, and without a
painful force can not smother his resentments, it is no easy task to
keep this unruly member in due subjection, unless such an impetuous
affection as anger be thoroughly subdued by much exercise, care, and
study. For such things as “saying let fall against our will,” or “a
word flying by the range of our teeth,”[132] or “a speech escaping us
by accident,” are all likely to happen to those whose ill-exercised
minds (as it were) fall and waste away, and whose course of life
is licentious; and we may attribute this to hasty passion or to
unsettled judgment. For divine Plato tells us that for a word, which
is the lightest of all things, both Gods and men inflict the heaviest
penalties.[133] But silence, which can never be called to account,
doth not only, as Hippocrates hath observed, extinguish thirst, but it
bears up against all manner of slanders with the constancy of Socrates
and the courage of Hercules, who was no more concerned than a fly at
what others said or did. Now it is certainly not grander or better than
this for a man to bear silently and quietly the revilings of an enemy,
taking care not to provoke him, as if he were swimming by a dangerous
rock; but the practice is better. For whosoever is thus accustomed to
endure patiently the scoffs of an enemy will, without any disturbance
or trouble, bear with the chidings of a wife, the rebukes of a friend,
or the sharper reproofs of a brother. When a father or mother corrects
you, you will not be refractory or stubborn under the rod. Xanthippe,
though she was a woman of a very angry and troublesome spirit, could
never move Socrates to a passion. By being used to bear patiently this
heavy sufferance at home, he was ever unconcerned, and not in the least
moved by the most scurrilous and abusive tongues he met withal abroad.
For it is much better to overcome boisterous passions and to bring the
mind into a calm and even frame of spirit, by contentedly undergoing
the scoffs, outrages, and affronts of enemies, than to be stirred up to
choler or revenge by the worst they can say or do.

9. Thus we may show a meek and gentle temper and a submissive bearing
of evil in our enmities; and even integrity, magnanimity, and goodness
of disposition are also more conspicuous here than in friendship. For
it is not so honorable and virtuous to do a friend a kindness, as it is
unworthy and base to omit this good office when he stands in need; but
it is an eminent piece of humanity, and a manifest token of a nature
truly generous, to put up with the affronts of an enemy when you have a
fair opportunity to revenge them. For if any one sympathizes with his
enemy in his affliction, relieves him in his necessities, and is ready
to assist his sons and family if they desire it, any one that will
not love this man for his compassion, and highly commend him for his
charity, “must have a black heart made of adamant or iron,” as Pindar
says.

When Caesar made an edict that the statues of Pompey which were
tumbled down should be rebuilt and restored to their former beauty and
magnificence, Tully tells him that by setting up again Pompey’s statues
he has erected one for himself, an everlasting monument of praise and
honor to after ages. So that we must give to every one his due, to an
enemy such respect and honor as he truly deserves. Thus a man that
praises his enemy for his real deserts shall himself obtain the more
honor by it; and whenever he shall correct or censure him, he will be
credited in what he does, because every one will believe that he does
it out of a dislike and just abhorrence of his vice and not of his
person.

By this practice we shall be brought at length to perform the most
honorable and worthy actions; for he who is wont to praise and speak
the best things of his enemies will never repine at the prosperity or
success of his friends and acquaintance; he is never troubled, but
rather rejoices, when they thrive and are happy. And what virtue can
any man exercise that will be more profitable and delightful to him
than this, which takes away from him the bitterness of malice, and doth
not only break the teeth of envy, but, by teaching him to rejoice at
another man’s felicity, doth double his own enjoyment and satisfaction.
As in war many things, although they are bad and evil in themselves,
yet have become necessary, and by long custom and prescription have
obtained the validity of a law, so that it is not easy to root them
out, even by those who thereby suffer much harm; just so doth enmity
usher in the mind a long train of vices, meagre envy coupled with
grim hatred, restless jealousy and suspicion, unnatural joy at other
men’s miseries, and a long remembrance of injuries. Fraud, deceit,
and snares, joined to these forces of wickedness, work infinite
mischief in the world, yet they appear as no evils at all when they
are exerted against an enemy. By this means they make a deep entrance
into the mind; they get fast hold of it, and are hardly shaken off. So
that, unless we forbear the practice of these ill qualities towards
our enemies, they will by frequent acts become so habitual to us,
that we shall be apt to make use of them to the manifest wrong and
injury of our friends. Wherefore, if Pythagoras was highly esteemed
for instructing his disciples to avoid all manner of cruelty against
beasts themselves,—so that he himself would redeem them out of their
captivity in either the fowler’s or the fisherman’s net, and forbade
his followers to kill any creature,—it is surely much better and more
manly in our differences with men to show ourselves generous, just,
and detesters of all falsehood, and to moderate and correct all base,
unworthy, and hurtful passions; that in all our conversation with our
friends we may be open-hearted, and that we may not seek to overreach
or deceive others in any of our dealings.

For Scaurus was a professed enemy and an open accuser of Domitius;
whereupon a treacherous servant of Domitius comes to Scaurus before
the cause was to be heard, and tells him that he has a secret to
communicate to him in relation to the present suit, which he knows
not of, and which may be very advantageous on his side. Yet Scaurus
would not permit him to speak a word, but apprehended him, and sent
him back to his master. And when Cato was prosecuting Murena for
bribery, and was collecting evidence to support his charge, he was
accompanied (according to custom) by certain persons in the interest
of the defendant, who watched his transactions. These often asked him
in the morning, whether he intended on that day to collect evidence or
make other preparation for the trial; and so soon as he told them he
should not, they put such trust in him that they went their way. This
was a plain demonstration of the extraordinary deference and honor they
paid to Cato; but a far greater testimony, and one surpassing all the
rest, is it to prove that, if we accustom ourselves to deal justly and
uprightly with our enemies, then we shall not fail to behave ourselves
so towards our friends.

10. Simonides was wont to say that there was no lark without its
crest; so the disposition of men is naturally pregnant with strife,
suspicion, and envy, which last (as Pindar observes) is “the companion
of empty-brained men.” Therefore no man can do any thing that will tend
more to his own profit and the preservation of his peace than utterly
to purge out of his mind these corrupt affections, and cast them off as
the very sink of all iniquity, that they may create no more mischief
between him and his friends. This Onomademus, a judicious and wise
man, understood well, who, when he was of the prevailing side in a
civil commotion at Chios, gave this counsel to his friends, that they
should not quite destroy or drive away those of the adverse party,
but let some abide there, for fear they should begin to fall out among
themselves as soon as their enemies were all out of the way. Therefore,
if these uneasy dispositions of the mind be spent and consumed upon
enemies, they would never molest or disquiet our friends. Neither doth
Hesiod approve of one potter or one singer’s envying another, or that
a neighbor or relation or brother should resent it ill that another
prospers and is successful in the world.[134] But if there be no other
way whereby we may be delivered from emulation, envy, or contention,
we may suffer our minds to vent these passions upon the prosperity of
our enemies, and whet the edge and sharpen the point of our anger upon
them. For as gardeners that have knowledge and experience in plants
expect their roses and violets should grow the better by being set
near leeks and onions,—because all the sour juices of the earth are
conveyed into these,—so an enemy by attracting to himself our vicious
and peevish qualities, may render us less humorsome and more candid and
ingenuous to our friends that are in a better or more happy state than
ourselves.

Wherefore let us enter the lists with our enemies, and contend with
them for true glory, lawful empire, and just gain. Let us not so much
debase ourselves as to be troubled and fret at any possessions they
enjoy more than we have. Let us rather carefully observe those good
qualities wherein our enemies excel us, so that by these motives we may
be excited to outdo them in honest diligence, indefatigable industry,
prudent caution, and exemplary sobriety; as Themistocles complained
that the victory Miltiades got at Marathon would not let him sleep.
But whosoever views his adversary exalted far above him in dignities,
in pleading of great causes, in administration of state affairs, or
in favor and friendship with princes, and doth not put forth all
his strength and power to get before him in these things,—this man
commonly pines away, and by degrees sinks into the sloth and misery
of an envious and inactive life. And we may observe, that envy and
hatred do raise such clouds in the understanding, that a man shall not
be able to pass a right judgment concerning things which he hates;
but whosoever with an impartial eye beholds, and with a sincere mind
judges, the life and manners, discourses, and actions of his enemy,
will soon understand that many of those things that raise his envy were
gotten by honest care, a discreet providence, and virtuous deeds. Thus
the love of honorable and brave actions may be kindled and advanced in
him, and an idle and lazy course of life may be contemned and forsaken.

11. But if our enemies arrive at high places in the courts of princes
by flattery or frauds, by bribery or gifts, we should not be troubled
at it, but should rather be pleased in comparing our undisguised and
honest way of living with theirs which is quite contrary. For Plato,
who was a competent judge, was of opinion that virtue was a more
valuable treasure than all the riches above the earth or all the mines
beneath it. And we ought evermore to have in readiness this saying of
Solon:[135] But we will not give up our virtue in exchange for their
wealth. So will we never give up our virtue for the applause of crowded
theatres, which may be won by a feast, nor for the loftiest seats among
eunuchs, concubines, and royal satraps. For nothing that is worth any
one’s appetite, nothing that is handsome or becoming a man, can proceed
from that which is in itself evil and base. But, as Plato repeats once
and again, the lover cannot see the faults of the thing or person that
he loves, and we apprehend soonest what our enemies do amiss; therefore
we must let neither our joy at their miscarriages nor our sorrow at
their successes be idle and useless to ourselves, but we are bound to
consider in both respects, how we may render ourselves better than they
are, by avoiding what is faulty and vicious in them, and how we may not
prove worse than they, if we imitate them in what they do excel.




CONSOLATION TO APOLLONIUS.


1. As soon, Apollonius, as I heard the news of the untimely death
of your son, who was very dear to us all, I fell sick of the same
grief with you, and shared your misfortune with all the tenderness of
sympathy. For he was a sweet and modest young man, devout towards the
Gods, obedient to his parents, and obliging to his friends; indeed
doing all things that were just. But when the tears of his funeral were
scarcely dry, I thought it a time very improper to call upon you and
put you in mind that you should bear this accident like a man; for when
this unexpected affliction made you languish both in body and mind,
I considered then that compassion was more seasonable than advice.
For the most skilful physicians do not put a sudden stop to a flux of
humors, but give them time to settle, and then foment the swelling by
softening and bringing it to a head with medicines outwardly applied.

2. So now that a competent time is past—time which brings all things
to maturity—since the first surprise of your calamity, I believed I
should do an acceptable piece of friendship, if I should now comfort
you with those reasons which may lessen your grief and silence your
complaints.

    Soft words alleviate a wounded heart,
    If you in time will mitigate the smart.[136]

Euripides hath said wisely to this purpose:—

    Our applications should suited be
    Unto the nature of the malady;
    Of sorrow we should wipe the tender eyes,
    But the immoderate weeper should chastise.

For of all the passions which move and afflict the mind of man, sorrow
in its nature is the most grievous; in some they say it hath produced
madness, others have contracted incurable diseases, and some out of the
vehemence of it have laid violent hands upon themselves.

3. Therefore to be sad, even to an indisposition, for the death of a
son proceeds from a principle of nature, and it is out of our power to
prevent it. I dislike those who boast so much of hard and inflexible
temper which they call apathy, it being a disposition which never
happens and never could be of use to us; for it would extinguish that
sociable love we ought to have for one another, and which it is so
necessary above all things to preserve. But to mourn excessively and
to accumulate grief I do affirm to be altogether unnatural, and to
result from a depraved opinion we have of things; therefore we ought
to shun it as destructive in itself, and unworthy of a virtuous man;
but to be moderately affected by grief we cannot condemn. It were to be
wished, saith Crantor the Academic, that we could not be sick at all;
but when a distemper seizeth us, it is requisite we should have sense
and feeling in case any of our members be plucked or cut off. For that
talked-of apathy can never happen to a man without great detriment; for
as now the body, so soon the very mind would be wild and savage.

4. Therefore in such accidents, it is but reasonable that they who are
in their right senses should avoid both extremes, of being without
any passion at all and of having too much; for as the one argues a
mind that is obstinate and fierce, so the other doth one that is
soft and effeminate. He therefore hath cast up his accounts the
best, who, confining himself within due bounds, hath such ascendant
over his temper, as to bear prosperous and adverse fortune with the
same equality, whichsoever it is that happens to him in this life.
He puts on those resolutions as if he were in a popular government
where magistracy is decided by lot; if it luckily falls to his share,
he obeys his fortune, but if it passeth him, he doth not repine at
it. So we must submit to the dispensation of human affairs, without
being uneasy and querulous. Those who cannot do this want prudence
and steadiness of mind to bear more happy circumstances; for amongst
other things which are prettily said, this is one remarkable precept of
Euripides:—

    If Fortune prove extravagantly kind,
    Above its temper do not raise thy mind;
    If she disclaims thee like a jilting dame,
    Be not dejected, but be still the same,
    Like gold unchanged amidst the hottest flame.

For it is the part of a wise and well-educated man, not to be
transported beyond himself with any prosperous events, and so, when the
scene of fortune changeth, to observe still the comeliness and decency
of his morals. For it is the business of a man that lives by rule,
either to prevent an evil that threatens him, or, when it is come, to
qualify its malignity and make it as little as he can, or put on a
masculine brave spirit and so resolve to endure it. For there are four
ways that prudence concerns herself about any thing that is good; she
is either industrious to acquire or careful to preserve, she either
augments or useth it well. These are the measures of prudence, and
consequently those of all other virtues, by which we ought to square
ourselves in either fortune.

    For no man lives who always happy is.[137]

And, by Jove, you should not hinder what ought to be done,—

    Those things which in their nature ought to be.[138]

5. For, as amongst trees some are very thick with fruit, and some bear
none at all; amongst living creatures some are very prolific, and some
barren; and as in the sea there is alternate vicissitude of calms and
tempests, so in human life there are many and various circumstances
which distract a man into divers changes of fortune. One considering
this matter hath not said much from the purpose:—

    Think not thyself, O Atreus’ son, forlorn;
    Thou always to be happy wast not born.
    Even Agamemnon’s self must be a shade,
    For thou of frail materials art made.
    Sorrow and joy alternately succeed;
    ’Spite of thy teeth, the Gods have so decreed.[139]

These verses are Menander’s.

    If thou, O Trophimus, of all mankind,
    Uninterrupted happiness couldst find;
    If when thy mother brought thee forth with pain,
    Didst this condition of thy life obtain,
    That only prosperous gales thy sails should fill,
    And all things happen ’cording to thy will;
    If any of the Gods did so engage,
    Such usage justly might provoke thy rage,
    Matter for smart resentment might afford,
    For the false Deity did break his word.
    But if thou unexcepted saw’st the light,
    Without a promise of the least delight,
    I say to thee (gravely in tragic style)
    Thou ought to be more patient all the while.
    In short,—and to say more there’s no one can,—
    Which is a name of frailty, thou’rt a man;
    A creature more rejoicing is not found,
    None more dejected creeps upon the ground.
    Though weak, yet he in politics refines,
    Involves himself in intricate designs;
    With nauseous business he himself doth cloy,
    And so the pleasure of his life destroy.
    In great pursuits thou never hast been cross’d
    No disappointments have thy projects lost;
    Nay, such hath been the mildness of thy fate,
    Hast no misfortune had of any rate;
    If Fortune is at any time severe,
    Serene and undisturbed thou must appear.

But though this be the state of all sublunary things, yet such is the
extravagant pride and folly of some men, that if they are raised above
the common by the greatness of their riches or functions of magistracy,
or if they arrive to any eminent charge in the commonwealth, they
presently swell with the titles of their honor, and threaten and
insult over their inferiors; never considering what a treacherous
Goddess Fortune is, and how easy a revolution it is for things that are
uppermost to be thrown down from their height and for humble things to
be exalted, and that these changes of Fortune are performed quickly and
in the swiftest moments of time. To seek for any certainty therefore in
that which is uncertain is the part of those who judge not aright of
things:—

    Like to a wheel that constantly goes round,
    One part is up whilst t’other’s on the ground.

6. But the most sovereign remedy against sorrow is our reason, and
out of this arsenal we may arm ourselves with defence against all the
casualties of life; for every one ought to lay down this as a maxim,
that not only is he himself mortal in his nature, but life itself
decays, and things are easily changed into quite the contrary to what
they are; for our bodies are made up of perishing ingredients. Our
fortunes and our passions too are subject to the same mortality; indeed
all things in this world are in perpetual flux,—

    Which no man can avoid with all his care.[140]

It is an expression of Pindar, that we are held to the dark bottom of
hell by necessities as hard as iron. And Euripides says:—

    No worldly wealth is firm and sure;
    But for a day it doth endure.[141]

And also:—

    From small beginnings our misfortunes grow,
    And little rubs our feet do overthrow;
    A single day is able down to cast
    Some things from height, and others raise as fast.[142]

Demetrius Phalereus affirms that this was truly said, but that the poet
had been more in the right if for a single day he had put only a moment
of time.

    For earthly fruits and mortal men’s estate
    Turn round about in one and selfsame rate;
    Some live, wax strong, and prosper day by day,
    While others are cast down and fade away.[143]

And Pindar hath it in another place,

    What are we, what are we not?
    Man is but a shadow’s dream.[144]

He used an artificial and very perspicuous hyperbole to draw human life
in its genuine colors; for what is weaker than a shadow? Or what words
can be found out whereby to express a shadow’s dream? Crantor hath
something consonant to this, when, condoling Hippocles upon the loss of
his children, he speaks after this manner:—

“These are the things which all the old philosophers talk of and have
instructed us in; which though we do not agree to in every particular,
yet this hath too sharp a truth in it, that our life is painful and
full of difficulties; and if it doth not labor with them in its own
nature, yet we ourselves have infected it with that corruption. For the
inconstancy of Fortune joined us at the beginning of our journey, and
hath accompanied us ever since; so that it can produce nothing that is
sound or comfortable unto us; and the bitter potion was mingled for us
as soon as we were born. For the principles of our nature being mortal
is the cause that our judgment is depraved, that diseases, cares, and
all those fatal inconveniences afflict mankind.”

But what need of this digression? Only that we may be made sensible
that it is no unusual thing if a man be unfortunate; but we are all
subject to the same calamity. For as Theophrastus saith, Fortune
surpriseth us unawares, robs us of those things we have got by the
sweat of our industry, and spoils the gaudy appearance of a prosperous
condition; and this she doth when she pleaseth, not being stinted to
any periods of time. These and things of the like nature it is easy for
a man to ponder with himself, and to hearken to the sayings of ancient
and wise men; among whom divine Homer is the chief, who sung after this
manner:—

    Of all that breathes or grovelling creeps on earth,
    Most man is vain! calamitous by birth:
    To-day, with power elate, in strength he blooms;
    The haughty creature on that power presumes:
    Anon from Heaven a sad reverse he feels;
    Untaught to bear, ’gainst Heaven the wretch rebels.
    For man is changeful, as his bliss or woe;
    Too high when prosperous, when distress’d too low.[145]

And in another place:—

    What or from whence I am, or who my sire
    (Replied the chief), can Tydeus’ son enquire?
    Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,
    Now green in youth, now withering on the ground;
    Another race the following spring supplies;
    They fall successive, and successive rise.
    So generations in their course decay;
    So flourish these, when those are past away.[146]

How prettily he managed this image of human life appears from what he
hath said in another place:—

    For what is man? Calamitous by birth,
    They owe their life and nourishment to earth;
    Like yearly leaves, that now with beauty crown’d,
    Smile on the sun, now wither on the ground.[147]

When Pausanias the king of Sparta was frequently bragging of his
performances, and bidding Simonides the lyric poet in raillery to
give him some wise precept, he, knowing the vain-glory of him that
spoke, admonished him to remember that he was a man. Philip the
king of Macedon, when he had received three despatches of good news
at the same time, of which the first was that his chariots had
won the victory in the Olympic games, the second, that his general
Parmenio had overcome the Dardanians in fight, and the third, that
his wife Olympias had brought him forth an heir,—lifting up his eyes
to heaven, he passionately cried out, Propitious Daemon! let the
affliction be moderate by which thou intendest to be even with me for
this complicated happiness. Theramenes, one of the thirty tyrants of
Athens, when he alone was preserved from the ruins of a house that
fell upon the rest of his friends as they were sitting at supper, and
all came about him to congratulate him on his escape,—broke out in an
emphatical accent, Fortune! for what calamity dost thou reserve me? And
not long after, by the command of his fellow-tyrants, he was tormented
to death.

7. But Homer seems to indicate a particular praise to himself, when he
brings in Achilles speaking thus to Priam, who was come forth to ransom
the body of Hector:—

    Rise then; let reason mitigate our care:
    To mourn avails not: man is born to bear.
    Such is, alas! the Gods’ severe decree:
    They, only they, are blest, and only free.
    Two urns by Jove’s high throne have ever stood,
    The source of evil one, and one of good;
    From thence the cup of mortal man he fills,
    Blessings to these, to these distributes ills;
    To most he mingles both; the wretch decreed
    To taste the bad unmix’d is cursed indeed;
    Pursued by wrongs, by meagre famine driven,
    He wanders, outcast both of earth and heaven.[148]

Hesiod, who was the next to Homer both in respect of time and
reputation, and who professed to be a disciple of the Muses, fancied
that all evils were shut up in a box, and that Pandora opening it
scattered all sorts of mischiefs through both the earth and seas:—

    The cover of the box she did remove,
    And to fly out the crowding mischief strove;
    But slender hope upon the brims did stay,
    Ready to vanish into air away;
    She with retrieve the haggard in did put,
    And on the prisoner close the box did shut;
    But plagues innumerable abroad did fly,
    Infecting all the earth, the seas, and sky.
    Diseases now with silent feet do creep,
    Torment us waking, and afflict our sleep.
    These midnight evils steal without a noise,
    For Jupiter deprived them of their voice.[149]

8. After these the comedian, talking of those who bear afflictions
uneasily, speaks consonantly to this purpose:—

    If we in wet complaints could quench our grief,
    At any rate we’d purchase our relief;
    With proffered gold would bribe off all our fears,
    And make our eyes distil in precious tears.
    But the Gods mind not mortals here below,
    Nor the least thought on our affairs bestow;
    But with an unregarding air pass by,
    Whether our cheeks be moist, or whether dry.
    Unhappiness is always sorrow’s root,
    And tears do hang from them like crystal fruit.

And Dictys comforts Danae, who was bitterly taking on, after this
manner:—

    Dost think that thy repinings move the grave,
    Or from its jaws thy dying son can save?
    If thou would’st lessen it, thy grief compare;—
    Consider how unhappy others are;
    How many bonds of slavery do hold;
    How many of their children robbed grow old;
    How sudden Fate throws off th’ usurped crown,
    And in the dirt doth tread the tyrant down.
    Let this with deep impression in thee sink,
    And on these revolutions often think.[150]

He bids her consider the condition of those who have suffered equal
or greater afflictions, and by such a parallel to comfort up her own
distempered mind.

9. And here that opinion of Socrates comes in very pertinently, who
thought that if all our misfortunes were laid in one common heap,
whence every one must take an equal portion, most people would be
contented to take their own and depart. After this manner Antimachus
the poet allayed his grief when he lost his wife Lyde, whom he
tenderly loved; for he writ an elegy upon her, which he called by
her own name, and in it he numbered up all the calamities which have
befallen great men; and so by the remembrance of other men’s sorrows he
assuaged his own. By this it may appear, that he who comforts another
who is macerating himself with grief, and demonstrates to him, by
reckoning up their several misfortunes, that he suffers nothing but
what is common to him with other men, takes the surest way to lessen
the opinion he had of his condition, and brings him to believe that it
is not altogether so bad as he took it to be.

10. Aeschylus also doth justly reprimand those who think death to be an
evil, declaring after this manner:—

    Some as a thing injurious death do fly;
    But of all mischiefs ’tis the remedy.

And he who spoke thus very nicely imitated him:—

    Come, with impatience I expect thee, Death;
    And stop with thy obliging hand my breath:
    To thee as a physician all resort,
    And we through tempests sail into thy port.

And it is great to speak this sentence with courage:—

    Where is the slave who never fears to die?[151]

Or this:—

    And shadows never scare me, thanks to hell.

But what is it at length in death, that is so grievous and troublesome?
For I know not how it comes to pass that, when it is so familiar and
as it were related to us, it should seem so terrible. How can it be
rational to wonder, if that cleaves asunder which is divisible, if that
melts whose nature is liquefaction, if that burns which is combustible,
and so, by a parity of reason, if that perisheth which by nature is
perishable? For when is it that death is not in us? For, as Heraclitus
saith, it is the same thing to be dead and alive, asleep and awake,
a young man and decrepit; for these alternately are changed one into
another. For as a potter can form the shape of an animal out of his
clay and then as easily deface it, and can repeat this backwards
and forwards as often as he pleaseth, so Nature too out of the same
materials fashioned first our grandfathers, next our fathers, then
us, and in process of time will engender others, and again others
upon these. For as the flood of our generation glides on without any
intermission and will never stop, so in the other direction the stream
of our corruption flows eternally on, whether it be called Acheron or
Cocytus by the poets. So that the same cause which first showed us the
light of the sun carries us down to infernal darkness. And in my mind,
the air which encompasseth us seems to be a lively image of the thing;
for it brings on the vicissitudes of night and day, life and death,
sleeping and waking. For this cause it is that life is called a fatal
debt, which our fathers contracted and we are bound to pay; which is to
be done calmly and without any complaint, when the creditor demands it;
and by this means we shall show ourselves men of sedate passions.

11. And I believe Nature, knowing the confusion and shortness of our
life, hath industriously concealed the end of it from us, this making
for our advantage. For if we were sensible of it beforehand, some would
pine away with untimely sorrow, and would die before their death came.
For she saw the woes of this life, and with what a torrent of cares it
is overflowed,—which if thou didst undertake to number, thou wouldst
grow angry with it, and confirm that opinion which hath a vogue amongst
some, that death is more desirable than life. Simonides hath glossed
upon it after this manner:—

    Our time is of a short and tender length,
    Cares we have many, and but little strength;
    Labors in crowds push one another on,
    And cruel destiny we cannot shun.
    The casting of these lots is very just,
    For good and bad lie in one common dust.

Pindar hath it so:—

    The Gods unequal have us mortals vexed,
    For to one good, two evils are annexed:
    They pay a single joy with double care,
    And fools such dispensations cannot bear.[152]

Sophocles so:—

    Why at a mortal’s death dost thou complain?
    Thou know’st not what may be his future gain.

And Euripides so:—

    Dost thou not know the state of human things?
    A faithful monitor thy instruction brings.
    Inevitable death hangs o’er our head,
    And threatens falling by a doubtful thread.
    There’s no man can be certain over night,
    If he shall live to see to-morrow’s light.
    Life without any interruption flows,
    And the results of fate there’s no man knows.[153]

If then the condition of human life is such as they speak of, why do we
not rather applaud their good fortunes who are freed from the drudgery
of it, than pity and deplore them, as some men’s folly prompts them to
do?

12. Socrates said that death was like either to a very deep sleep, or
to a journey taken a great way and for a long time, or else to the
utter extinction of soul and body; and if we examine each of these
comparisons, he said, we shall find that death is not an evil upon any
account. For if death is sleep, and no hurt happens to those who are in
that innocent condition, it is manifest that neither are the dead ill
dealt with. To what purpose should I talk of that which is so tritely
known amongst all, that the most profound sleep is always the sweetest?
Homer[154] particularly attests it:—

    His senses all becalmed, he drew his breath,
    His sleep was sound, and quiet like to death.

And in many places he saith thus,—

    She met Death’s brother, Sleep.—

And again,—

    Twin brothers, Sleep and Death,—

thereby representing the similitude (as it were) to the sight, for
twins especially indicate similarity. And in another place he saith,
Death is brazen sleep, thereby intimating to us that it is insensible.
Neither hath he spoken much amiss who calls sleep the lesser mysteries
of death; for sleep is really the first initiation into the mysteries
of death.

Diogenes the Cynic, when a little before his death he fell into a
slumber, and his physician rousing him out of it asked him whether
any thing ailed him, wisely answered, Nothing, sir, only one brother
anticipates another,—Sleep before Death.

13. If death be like a journey, neither upon this account is it an
evil, but rather the contrary; for certainly it is the emphasis of
happiness to be freed from the incumbrances of the flesh and all those
troublesome passions which attend it, which serve only to darken the
understanding, and over-spread it with all the folly that is incident
to human nature.

“The very body,” saith Plato, “procures us infinite disquiet only
to supply its daily necessities with food; but if any diseases are
coincident, they hinder our contemplations, and stop us in our
researches after truth. Besides, it distracts us with irregular
desires, fears, and vain amours, setting before us so many fantastic
images of things, that the common saying is here most true, that
on account of the body we can never become wise. For wars, popular
seditions, and shedding of blood by the sword are owing to no other
original than this care of the body and gratifying its licentious
appetites; for we fight only to get riches, and these we acquire
only to please the body; so that those who are thus employed have not
leisure to be philosophers. And after all, when we have retrieved an
interval of time to seek after truth, the body officiously interrupts
us, is so troublesome and importune, that we can by no means discern
its nature. Therefore it is evident that, if we will clearly know any
thing, we must divest ourselves of the body, and behold things as they
are in themselves with the mind itself, that at last we may attain what
we so much desire, and what we do profess ourselves the most partial
admirers of, which is wisdom. And this we cannot consummately enjoy
till after death, as reason teacheth us. For if so be that we can
understand nothing clearly as long as we are clogged with flesh, one of
these things must needs be, either that we shall never arrive at that
knowledge at all, or only when we die; for then the soul will exist
by itself, separate from the body; and whilst we are in this life, we
shall make the nearest advances towards it, if we have no more to do
with the body than what decency and necessity require, if we break off
all commerce with it, and keep ourselves pure from its contagion, till
God shall give us a final release, and then being pure and freed from
all its follies, we shall converse (it is likely) with intelligences
as pure as ourselves, with our unaided vision beholding perfect
purity,—and this is truth itself. For it is not fit that what is pure
should be apprehended by what is impure.”[155]

Therefore, if death only transports us to another place, it is not to
be looked upon as an evil, but rather as an exceeding good, as Plato
hath demonstrated. The words of Socrates to his judges seem to me to
be spoken even with inspiration: “To fear death, gentlemen, is nothing
else than to counterfeit the being wise, when we are not so. For he
that fears death pretends to know what he is ignorant of; for no man
is certain whether death be not the greatest good that can befall a
man, but they positively dread it as if they were sure it was the
greatest of evils.” Agreeably to this said one after this manner:—

    Let no man fear what doth his labors end;—

and death sets us free even from the greatest evils.

14. The Gods themselves bear witness to the truth of this, for many
have obtained death as a gratuity from them. The less famous instances
I will pass by, that I may not be prolix, and only mention those who
are the most celebrated and in all men’s mouths. And in the first
place, I will relate what befell Biton and Cleobis, two young men of
Argos. They report that their mother being the priestess of Juno, and
the time being come that she was to go up to the temple to perform
the rites of the Goddess, and those whose office it was to draw her
chariot tarrying longer than usual, these two young men harnessed
themselves and took it up, and so carried their mother to the temple.
She, being extremely taken with the piety of her sons, petitioned the
Goddess that she would bestow upon them the best present that could
be given to men; accordingly she cast them into that deep sleep out
of which they never awoke, taking this way to recompense their filial
zeal with death. Pindar writes of Agamedes and Trophonius, that after
they had built a temple at Delphi, they requested of Apollo a reward
for their work. It was answered them that they should have it within
seven days, but in the mean while they were commanded to live freely
and indulge their genius; accordingly they obeyed the dictate, and the
seventh night they died in their beds. It is said also of Pindar, that
when the deputies of the Boeotians were sent to consult the oracle, he
desired them to enquire of it which was the best thing amongst men,
and that the Priestess of the tripod gave them this answer,—that he
could not be ignorant of it, if he was the author of those writings
concerning Agamedes and Trophonius; but if he desired personally to
know, it should in a little time be made manifest to him; and that
Pindar hearing this prepared himself for the stroke of Fate, and died
in a short time after. Of Euthynous the Italian there is this memorable
story, that he died suddenly, without anybody’s knowing the cause of
his death. His father was Elysius the Terinean, who was a man of the
first condition for his estate and virtue, being rich and honorable,
and this being his only son and heir to all his fortune, which was very
great, he had a strong jealousy upon him that he was poisoned, and not
knowing how he should come to the information of it, he went into the
vault where they invoke the dead, and after having offered sacrifice,
as it is enjoined by the law, he slept in the place; when all things
were in a midnight silence, he had this vision. His father appeared
to him, to whom after having related his lamentable misfortune, he
earnestly desired the ghost that he would assist him in finding out the
cause. He answered that he was come on purpose to do it. But first,
saith he, receive from this one what he hath brought thee, and thereby
thou wilt understand the reason of all thy sorrow. The person that the
father meant was very like to Euthynous both for years and stature; and
the question being put to him who he was, he answered, I am the genius
of thy son; and at the same time he reached out a book to him, which he
opened and found these verses written therein:—

    ’Tis ignorance makes wretched men to err;
    Fate did to happiness thy son prefer.
    By destined death Euthynous seized we see;
    So ’twas the better both for him and thee.

These are the stories which the ancients tell us.

15. But lastly, if death be the entire dissipation of soul and body
(which was the third part of Socrates’s comparison), even then it
cannot be an evil. For this would produce a privation of sense, and
consequently a complete freedom from all solicitude and care; and if
no good, so no evil would befall us. For good and evil alike must by
nature inhere in that which has existence and essence; but to that
which is nothing, and wholly abolished out of the nature of things,
neither of the two can belong. Therefore, when men die, they return to
the same condition they were in before they were born. For as, before
we came into the world, we were neither sensible of good nor afflicted
with evil, so it will be when we leave it; and as those things which
preceded our birth did not concern us, so neither will those things
which are subsequent to our death:—

    The dead secure from sorrow safe do lie,
    ’Tis the same thing not to be born and die.[156]

For it is the same state of existence after death as it was before we
were born. Unless perhaps you will make a difference between having
no being at all and the utter extinction of it, after the same manner
that you make a distinction between an house and a garment after they
are ruined and worn out, and at the time before the one was built and
the other made. And if in this case there is no difference, it is plain
that there is none between the state before we were born and that after
we are dead. It is elegantly said by Arcesilaus, that death, which is
called an evil, hath this peculiarly distinct from all that are thought
so, that when it is present it gives us no disturbance, but when remote
and in expectation only, it is then that it afflicts us. And indeed
many out of the poorness of their spirit, having entertained most
injurious opinions of it, have died even to prevent death. Epicharmus
hath said excellently to this purpose: “It was united, it is now
dissolved; it returns back whence it came,—earth to earth, the spirit
to regions above. What in all this is grievous? Nothing at all.” But
that which Cresphontes in Euripides saith of Hercules,—

    For if he dwells below, beneath the earth,
    With those whose life is gone, his strength is nought,

I would have changed into these words,—

    For if he dwells below, beneath the earth,
    With those whose life is gone, his woes are o’er.

This Laconic too is very noble:—

    Others before and after us will be,
    Whose age we’re not permitted e’er to see.

And again:—

    These neither did live handsomely nor die,
    Though both should have been done with decency.

But Euripides hath spoken incomparably well of those who labor under
daily indispositions:—

    I hate the man who studies to defeat
    The power of death with artificial meat,
    To baffle and prevent his fate does think,
    And lengthens out his life with magic drink.
    Whereas, when he a burden doth become,
    Then he should die, because he’s troublesome.
    Old age in modesty should then give place,
    And so make way unto a brisker race.[157]

But Merope moved the passion of the theatre with these masculine
expressions:—

    My sons by death are ravished from my side,
    And I’m a widow, who was once a bride.
    I am not thus selected to be crossed,
    Others their sons and husbands too have lost.[158]

And we may not incongruously add these:—

    What is become of that magnificence?
    Where is King Croesus with his opulence?
    Or where is Xerxes with his mighty pride,
    Who with a bridge did curb the raging tide?
    Inhabitants of darkness they became,
    And now are living only in their fame.

Their riches have perished with their bodies.

16. Yes, we may say, but an untimely death from many doth extort groans
and passionate complaints. But the way to dry up these sorrows is so
expedite and easy, that every vulgar poet hath prescribed it. Consider
what consolation a comedian puts in the mouth of one who comforts
another upon so sad an occasion:—

    If this with certainty thou could’st have known,
    That Fortune always would have kindness shown,
    That nothing but what’s good would him befall,
    His death thou justly might’st untimely call.
    But if calamities were imminent,
    And Death the fatal mischief did prevent,
    To give to things the character that’s due,
    Death was the most obliging of the two.

It therefore being uncertain whether it was for his advantage that he
departed this life and was freed from all the miseries that attend it,
we had thereby lost all that we fancied we could enjoy in him whilst
he was living. And Amphiaraus in the poet doth not do amiss when he
consoles the mother of Archemorus, who was even sick with grief for the
untimely death of her infant son. He speaks:—

    There is no man whom sorrow doth not seize;
    Our children die while others we beget.
    At last we die ourselves, and mortals grieve
    As they give dust to dust; but human life
    Must needs be reaped like a full crop of corn.
    One man must live, another die: why weep
    For this, which by necessity must be?
    There is no hardship in necessity.[159]

17. In general, every one should meditate seriously with himself,
and have the concurrence of other men’s opinions with his own, that
it is not the longest life which is the best, but that which is the
most virtuous. For that musician is not to be commended who plays
upon variety of instruments, nor that orator that makes multiplicity
of speeches, nor the pilot that conducts many ships, but he of each
faculty that doth one of them well; for the beauty of a thing doth not
consist in length of time, but in the virtue and seasonable moderation
wherewith it is transacted. This is that which is called happy and
grateful to the Gods. And for this reason it is that poets celebrate
those who have died before they have become old, and propose them for
examples, as the most excellent men and of divine extraction, as him
for instance,

    Beloved by Jove and him who gilds the skies,
    Yet short his date of life.[160]

And we see in every thing that preference is not given so much to age
as to maturity. For amongst trees and plants, those are accounted
the most generous which bring forth abundance of fruit, and that
early ripe. And amongst living creatures too, those are the most
valued which supply us with the accommodations of life in a short
time, besides, if we compare the space of our life with eternity, we
shall find no difference betwixt long and short; for according to
Simonides, thousands and millions of years are but as a point to what
is infinite, or rather the smallest part of that point. They report
that about Pontus there are some creatures of such an extempore being
that the whole term of their life is confined within the space of a
day; for they are brought forth in the morning, are in the prime of
their existence at noon, grow old at night, and then die. Dost thou not
think that if these had the soul and reason of a man, they would be so
affected, and that things would happen to them after the same manner as
to us?—that those who died before the meridian would be lamented with
tears and groans?—and that we should call them happy who lived their
day out? For the measure of a man’s life is the well spending of it,
and not the length.

18. But such exclamations as this, “the young man ought not to be taken
off so abruptly in the vigor of his years,” are very frivolous, and
proceed from a great weakness of mind; for who is it that can say what
a thing ought to be? But things have been, are, and will be done,
which somebody or other will say ought not to be done. But we do not
come into this life to be dogmatical and prescribe to it; but we must
obey the dictates of the Gods who govern the world, and submit to the
establishments of Fate and Providence.

19. But when they mourn over those who die so untimely, do they do it
upon their own account, or upon that of the deceased? If upon their
own, because they have lost that pleasure they thought they should
have enjoyed in them, or are deprived of that profit they expected or
that relief they flattered themselves they should receive from them
in their old age, then self-love and personal interest prescribe the
measures of their sorrow; so that upon the result they do not love
the dead so much as themselves and their own interest. But if they
lament upon the account of the deceased, that is a grief easily to be
shaken off, if they only consider that by their very death they will
be out of the sphere of any evil that can reach them, and believe
the wise and ancient saying, that we should always augment what is
good, and extenuate the evil. Therefore if grief is a good thing,
let us enlarge and make it as great as we can; but if it is numbered
amongst the evils, as in truth it ought to be, let us endeavor all we
can to suppress it, make it as inconsiderable as we can, and at last
utterly efface it. How easy this is to be done, I will make appear
by an illustrious example of consolation. They say that an ancient
philosopher came to the Queen Arsinoe, who was then sorrowful for the
death of her son, and discoursed her after this manner: “At the time
that Jupiter distributed honors amongst his under-deities, it happened
that Grief was absent; but he came at last when all the dignities were
disposed of, and then desired that he might have some share in the
promotions. Jupiter, having no better vacancies left, bestowed upon
him sorrow and funeral tears.” He made this inference from the story:
“Therefore,” saith he, “as other daemons love and frequent those who
give them hospitable reception, so sadness will never come near you,
if you do not give it encouragement; but if you caress it with those
particular honors which it challengeth as its due, which are sighs
and tears, it will have an unlucky affection for you, and will always
supply you with fresh occasion that the observance may be continued.”
By this plausible speech he seems in a wonderful manner to have buoyed
this great woman out of her tears, and to have made her cast off her
veil.

20. In short, I would ask the mourner whether he designs to put an end
to his grief, or to allow the anguish to have the same duration with
his life. If this thou hast resolved, I must say thou hast cut out
for thyself the most bitter infelicity in the world, and all through
the stupidity and softness of thy mind; but if thou wilt ever make a
change, why dost thou not make it now, and so free thyself from misery?
Apply now the same reasons thou must use a great while hence, to
unburden thy mind and ease thy afflictions; and as in bodily distempers
the quickest remedy is the best, so bestow the advantage thou must
otherwise allow to time upon reason and instruction, and so cease to be
unhappy.

21. But it is objected, the calamity was sudden, and I did not expect
it. But thou oughtest to have done it, and considered the vanity and
uncertainty of human affairs, that thy enemies might not have come
suddenly upon thee and taken thee unawares. Theseus in Euripides seems
to be excellently well prepared for events of this nature, for he saith
thus—

    This wholesome precept from the wise I learn,
    To think of misery without concern.
    My meditating thoughts are always spent
    Either on death or else on banishment.
    Foresight of evils doth employ my mind,
    That me without defence they may not find;
    And though in ambuscade the mischief lies,
    Kill me it may, but shall not me surprise.[161]

But those who are of a degenerate and thoughtless spirit never apply
their mind to any thing that is either useful or becoming; but they
grow exorbitant in their sorrows, and afflict the innocent body, making
it sick for company, as Achaeus expresseth it.

22. Therefore Plato[162] doth rightly instruct us to acquiesce in
cases of this nature, when it is not manifest whether they be good or
evil, and when we get nothing by being uneasy under them; for grief is
the greatest obstacle to deliberation as to what is best to be done.
Therefore he commands us, as in the casting of dice, to accommodate
ourselves to what befalls us, in the way which reason shows us to
be best; and when any thing ails us, not to imitate the folly of
children, who presently cry out and clap their hands to the place
affected, but to accustom our minds to seek at once for remedies which
may restore the part that is diseased to its first tone of health,
making lamentation give place to the healing art. He that instituted
laws for the Lycians commanded the citizens that when they mourned
they should put on women’s apparel, intimating thereby that sorrow was
an effeminate thing, and therefore was not fit for men of temper and
liberal education. For it is indeed a weak and unmanly passion, and
women are more subject to it than men, the barbarians more than the
Greeks, and the dregs of mankind more than the refined part of them;
and even amongst the barbarians, the brave-spirited Celts and Gauls
have not a propensity to it, or any that have generous sentiments; but
the Egyptians, the Syrians, and the Lydians, and those who resemble
them in the softness of their disposition. They report that some of
these will hide themselves in retirements under ground, and refuse
to behold that sun of which their lamented friend is deprived. Ion,
the tragedian, who heard something of this extravagance, introduceth a
person speaking after this manner:—

    Your blooming children’s nurse, I have come forth
    A suppliant from the caves where I have mourned.

Some of these barbarians have deformed their bodies by cutting
off their noses, ears, and other parts of themselves, thinking to
gratify the dead by these mutilations, when in doing so they deviated
excessively from that moderation which Nature prescribes us.

23. And, by Jove, we meet with some persons who affirm that the death
of every one is not to be lamented, but only of those who die untimely;
for they have not tasted of those things which we call enjoyments in
the world, as a nuptial bed, proficiency in learning, the coming up
to an height in any thing, the honor of magistracy and charges in the
government. It is for the sake of these things that we condole with
those who lose friends by untimely death, because they were frustrated
of their hopes; but in the meanwhile we are ignorant that a sudden
death doth not at all differ from any other, considering the condition
of human nature. For as when a journey is enjoined into a remote
country, and there is a necessity for every one to undertake it, and
none hath liberty to refuse, though some go before and others follow,
yet all must arrive at the same stage at last; so when we all lie under
an obligation of discharging the same debt, it is not material whether
we pay sooner or later. But if any one’s death may be called untimely,
and consequently an evil, that appellation suits only with that of
children and infants, and especially of those who are newly born. But
this we bear steadfastly and with patience; but when those that are
grown up die, we take on heavily, because we fondly hoped that when
their years were full blown they would then have an uninterrupted
state of health. Now if the age of man were limited to the space of
twenty years, we should not think that he who had arrived to fifteen
died an untimely death, but that he had filled up a just measure of
living; but one that had attained twenty, or at least had approached
very near it, we should applaud for his good fortune, as if he had
enjoyed the most happy and perfect life in the world. So if life were
prolonged to two hundred years as its fixed period, and any one died at
a hundred, we should howl over him as if he had been hastily cut off.

24. It is manifest then, by what hath been said now and what hath
been mentioned before, that the death we call untimely is capable of
consolation; and the saying is true, that “Troilus wept less than
Priam,”[163] perishing as he did in his youth, while his father’s
kingdom flourished and his riches abounded, which Priam afterwards
laments as most deplorably lost. For observe what he saith to his son
Hector, when he entreats him to decline the battle he was going to
fight against Achilles:—

    Yet shun Achilles! enter yet the wall;
    And spare thyself, thy father, spare us all!
    Save thy dear life; or, if a soul so brave
    Neglect that thought, thy dearer glory save.
    Pity, while yet I live, these silver hairs;
    While yet thy father feels the woes he bears,
    Yet curst with sense! a wretch whom in his rage
    All trembling on the verge of helpless age
    Great Jove has placed, sad spectacle of pain!
    The bitter dregs of Fortune’s cup to drain:
    To fill with scenes of death his closing eyes
    And number all his days by miseries!
    My heroes slain, my bridal bed o’erturn’d,
    My daughters ravish’d, and my city burn’d,
    My bleeding infants dash’d against the floor;
    These I have yet to see, perhaps yet more!
    Perhaps even I, reserv’d by angry Fate,
    The last sad relic of my ruin’d state,
    (Dire pomp of sovereign wretchedness!) must fall,
    And stain the pavement of my regal hall;
    Where famish’d dogs, late guardians of my door,
    Shall lick their mangled master’s spatter’d gore.
    But when the Fates, in fulness of their rage,
    Spurn the hoar head of unresisting age,
    In dust the reverend lineaments deform,
    And pour to dogs the life-blood scarcely warm:
    This, this is misery! the last, the worst,
    That man can feel,—man, fated to be cursed!
      He said, and acting what no words can say,
    Rent from his head the silver locks away.
    With him the mournful mother bears a part;
    Yet all her sorrows turn not Hector’s heart.[164]

Having then so many examples of this kind before thine eyes, thou
oughtest to make thyself sensible that not a few have been saved by
death from those calamities they would certainly have fallen into had
they lived longer. Contenting myself with those I have related already,
I will omit the rest, that I may not seem tedious; and these are
sufficient to show that we ought not to abandon ourselves to violent
sorrow, beyond temper and the bounds of nature.

25. Crantor saith, To be innocent is the greatest comfort in
afflictions. I assent to him, and affirm that it is the noblest
remedy. Besides, the indication of our love to the deceased consists
not in grieving ourselves for him, but in paying respect to his fame
by honorable remembrance. For no good man deserves elegies, but
panegyrics; and we should rather celebrate his loss by an honorable
remembrance, than lament it; and offer up rather first-fruits of joy
to the Gods, and not tears which sorrow extorts from us. For he who
ceaseth to be amongst men becomes partaker of a divine life, is free
from the servitude of the body, and all those solicitous cares which
they who are embarrassed with a mortal life of necessity must undergo
till they have finished the course which Providence hath marked out for
them; and this life Nature hath not given us as a perpetual possession,
but hath clogged it with restrictions and conditions of fate.

26. Those therefore who are the masters of their reason ought not to be
transported by the death of friends beyond the limits of nature and a
just moderation unto unprofitable and barbarous complaints, and so wait
till that comes upon them which hath happened to many, to have their
vital moisture exhausted before their tears, and to be carried to their
own graves in those mourning weeds they put on for others, where their
sorrow must lie buried with those evils they provoked upon themselves
by their own imprudence. To whom that of Homer may be appositely
applied:—

    Whilst others they lament with weeping eyes,
    The darkness of the night doth them surprise.[165]

Wherefore in this case we should often thus reason with ourselves:
Shall we put an end to our sorrow, or shall we grieve all the days of
our life? To make it infinite is the last degree of infatuation; for we
have seen those who have been in the deepest circumstances of dejection
to be so mitigated by time, that they have banqueted upon those tombs
which before they could not endure the sight of without screeching out
and beating their breasts, but which they can now dance round with
music and all the postures of jollity. Therefore to be obstinate in our
grief is the resolution of madness. If then thou hast purposed within
thyself that it shall have an end, join this consideration with it,
that time will assuage it too; for what is once done even the Deity
himself cannot unravel; therefore that which hath happened to us beyond
our hope and contrary to our opinion hath palpably shown us what is
wont from the same causes to befall others. What’s the result then?
Cannot any discipline teach us, nor cannot we reason with ourselves,
that—

    The earth with evils doth abound;
    As many in the sea are found?[166]

And thus likewise:—

    The Fates have so encompassed men with ills,
    That even the wind can find no entrance?

27. For many, as Crantor tells us, and those very wise men, not now
but long ago have deplored the condition of human nature, esteeming
life a punishment, and to be born a man the highest pitch of calamity;
this, Aristotle tells us, Silenus declared when he was brought captive
to Midas. I think it best to quote the expressions of the philosopher
himself, in his book entitled Eudemus, or Of the Soul, wherein he
speaks after this manner:—

“Wherefore, thou best and happiest of mankind, if we think those
blessed and happy who have departed this life, then it is not only
unlawful but even blasphemy to speak any thing that is false or
contumelious of them, since they are now changed into a better and
more refined nature. And this my opinion is so old, that the original
and author of it is utterly unknown; but it hath been derived down to
us even from eternity, so established is the truth of it. Besides,
thou seest what is so familiar in men’s mouths, and hath been for many
years a trite expression. What is that, saith he? He answered him: It
is best not to be born at all; and next to that, it is more eligible
to die than to live; and this is confirmed even by divine testimony.
Pertinently to this they say that Midas, after hunting, asked his
captive Silenus somewhat urgently, what was the most desirable thing
amongst men. At first he would return no answer, but was obstinately
silent. At last, when Midas would not give over importuning him, he
broke out into these words, though very unwillingly: ‘Thou seed of an
evil genius and precarious offspring of hard fortune, whose life is
but for a day, why dost thou compel me to tell thee those things it is
better thou wert ignorant of? For those live the least disturbed who
know not their misfortunes; but for men, the best for them is not to
be born at all, nor to be made partakers of the most excellent nature;
not to be is best for both sexes. This should have the first place in
our choice; and the next to this is, when we are born, to die as soon
as we can.’ It is plain therefore, that he declared the condition of
the dead to be better than that of the living.”

I could bring millions of examples to justify this topic, but I will
not be long.

28. We are not therefore to lament those who die in the bloom of their
years, as if they were spoiled of things which we call enjoyments in a
longer life; for it is uncertain, as we have often said, whether they
are deprived of good or evil, for the evil in the world far exceeds
the good. The good we obtain hardly and with anxious endeavor, but
the evil easily befalls us; for they say evils are linked together,
and by a mutual dependence of causes follow one another, but the good
lie scattered and disjoined, and with great difficulty are brought
within the compass of our life. Therefore we seem to have forgot our
condition; for not only is it true, as Euripides hath it, that

    The things we do possess are not our own;[167]

but in general no man can claim a strict propriety in any thing he
hath:—

    When Gods do riches lend, it is but just
    That when they please we should resign our trust.

We ought not therefore to take it amiss if they demand those things
which they lent us only for a small time; for even your common brokers,
unless they are unjust, will not be displeased if they are called upon
to refund their pawns, and if one of them is not altogether so ready
to deliver them, thou mayst say to him without any injury, Hast thou
forgot that thou receivedst them upon the condition to restore them?
The same parity of reason holds amongst all men. The Gods have put life
into our hands by a fatal necessity, and there is no prefixed time
when what is so deposited will be required of us, as the brokers know
not when their pawns will be demanded. If therefore any one is angry
when he is dying himself, or resents the death of his children, is it
not very plain, that he hath forgot that he himself is a man and that
he hath begotten children as frail as himself? For a man that is in his
wits cannot be ignorant that he is a mortal creature, and born to this
very end that he must die. If Niobe, as it is in the fable, had had
this sentence always at hand, that she must at length die, and could not

    In the ever-flowering bloom of youth remain,
    Nor loaded with children, like a fruitful tree,
    Behold the sun’s sweet light,—

she would never have sunk to such a degree of desperation as to desire
to throw off her life to ease the burthen of her sorrow, and call
upon the Gods to hurry her into the utmost destruction. There are
two sentences inscribed upon the Delphic oracle, hugely accommodated
to the usages of man’s life, KNOW THYSELF, and NOTHING TOO MUCH; and
upon these all other precepts depend. And they themselves accord and
harmonize with each other, and each seems to illustrate the energy of
the other; for in _Know thyself_ is included _Nothing too much_; and so
again in the latter is comprised _Know thyself_. And Ion hath spoken of
it thus:—

    This sentence, _Know thyself_, is but a word;
    But only Jove himself could do the thing.

And thus Pindar:—

    This sentence brief, Do nothing to excess,
    Wise men have always praised exceedingly.

29. He therefore that hath these impressed upon his mind as the
precepts of the Pythian oracle, can easily conform himself to all the
affairs of life, and bear them handsomely; considering his nature, so
that he is neither lifted up to arrogance upon a prosperous event,
nor when an adverse happens, is dejected into complaint through
pusillanimity and that fear of death which is so congenial to us;
both which proceed from the ignorance of those things which fall out
in human life by necessity and fatal decree. The Pythagoreans speak
handsomely to this purpose:—

    Against those evils thou shouldest not repine,
    Which are inflicted by the powers divine.

Thus the tragedian Aeschylus:—

    He store of wisdom and of virtue hath,
    Whom nothing from the Gods provokes to wrath.

Euripides thus:—

    He that is passive when the Fates command
    Is wise, and all the Gods doth understand.

In another place so:—

    He that can bear those things which men befall,
    Him wise and modest we may justly call.

30. But many there are who blame all things; and whatsoever
unexpectedly happens to them, they think is procured them by the
malignity of Fortune and the spite of some evil genius. Wherefore they
are querulous and cry out upon every occasion, inveighing against
the bitterness of their mishaps. Their complaints we may not unfitly
obviate with this expression,—

    The Gods do hurt thee not, but thou thyself,—

even thou thyself through perverseness and want of good instruction.
And by reason of this false and deceiving opinion they accuse any kind
of death; for if one die upon his travel, they exclaim after this
manner:—

    The wretch, his father being absent, dies;
    Nor did his aged mother close his eyes.[168]

If he die in his own country, with his parents about him, they lament
that he is ravished out of their hands, and hath left them nothing but
regret for his loss. If he die silent, giving them no instructions at
parting, they complain thus:—

    His tender dying words I did not hear,
    Which I in my remembrance still should bear.[169]

If he spoke any thing before he breathed out his soul, they keep those
last accents as fuel to maintain their sorrow still kindled. If he die
a sudden death, they cry out that he is snatched away; if chronical
pains waste him, they will tell you that the slow distemper hath
emaciated him to death. Thus every appearance, take it which way you
will, is sufficient to stir up your complaints. These things the poets
have introduced, and the chiefest among them, Homer, who sung after
this manner:—

    As a poor father, helpless and undone,
    Mourns o’er the ashes of an only son,
    Takes a sad pleasure the last bones to burn,
    And pours in tears ere yet they close the urn.[170]

And whether these things are justly lamented doth not yet appear. But
see what he elsewhere sings:—

    Born in his elder years, his only boy,
    Who was designed his riches to enjoy.[171]

31. Who knows but that the Deity, with a fatherly providence and out of
tenderness to mankind, foreseeing what would happen, hath taken some
purposely out of this life by an untimely death? So we should think
that nothing has befallen them which they should have sought to shun,—

    For nought that cometh by necessity is hard,[172]

neither of those things which fall out by a precedent ratiocination
or a subsequent. And many by a timely death have been withdrawn from
greater calamities; so that it hath been good for some never to have
been born at all; for others, that as soon as life hath been blown in
it should be extinguished; for some, that they should live a little
longer; and for others again, that they should be cropped in the
prime of their youth. These several sorts of deaths should be taken
in good part, since Fate is inevitable. Therefore it becomes men well
educated to consider that those who have paid their debt to mortality
have only gone before us a little time; that the longest life is but
as a point in respect of eternity, and that many who have indulged
their sorrow to excess have themselves followed in a small while
those that they have lamented, having reaped no profit out of their
complaints, but macerated themselves with voluntary afflictions. Since
then the time of our pilgrimage in this life is but short, we ought
not to consume ourselves with sordid grief, and so render ourselves
unhappy by afflicting our minds and tormenting our bodies; but we
should endeavor after a more manly and rational sort of life, and not
associate ourselves with those who will be companions in grief and by
flattering our tears will only excite them the more, but rather with
those who will diminish our grief by solemn and generous consolation.
And we ought to hear and keep in our remembrance those words of Homer
wherewith Hector answers Andromache, comforting her after this manner:—

    Andromache, my soul’s far better part,
    Why with untimely sorrows heaves thy heart?
    No hostile hand can antedate my doom,
    Till Fate condemns me to the silent tomb.
    Fix’d is the term to all the race of earth,
    And such the hard condition of our birth:
    No force can then resist, no flight can save,
    All sink alike, the fearful and the brave.[173]

Which the poet expresseth in another place thus.

    The thread which at his birth for him was spun.[174]

32. Having these things fixed in our minds, all vain and fruitless
sorrow will be superseded; the time that we have all to live being but
very short, we ought to spare and husband it, and not lay it out too
prodigally upon sorrow, but rather spend it in tranquillity, deserting
the mournful colors, and so take care of our own bodies, and consult
the safety of those who live with us. It is requisite that we should
call to mind what reasons we urged to our kinsmen and friends when
they were in the like calamities, when we exhorted them to suffer
these usual accidents of life with a common patience, and bear mortal
things with humanity; lest being prepared with instructions for other
men’s misfortunes, we reap no benefit ourselves out of the remembrance
of those consolations, and so do not cure our minds by the sovereign
application of reason. For in any thing a delay is less dangerous than
in sorrow; and when by every one it is so tritely said, that he that
procrastinates in an affair contests with destruction, I think the
character will more fitly sit upon him who defers the removing his
troubles and the perturbations of his mind.

33. We ought also to cast our eyes upon those conspicuous examples
who have borne the deaths of their sons generously and with a great
spirit; such as were Anaxagoras of Clazomenae, Demosthenes of Athens,
Dion of Syracuse, King Antigonus, and many others who have lived
either in our times or in the memory of our fathers. They report of
Anaxagoras that, when he was reading natural philosophy to his pupils
and reasoning with them, sudden news was brought him of the death of
his son. He presently stopped short in his lecture, and said this to
his auditors, I knew that I begot my son mortal. And of Pericles, who
was surnamed Olympius for his wisdom and the strength of his eloquence,
when he heard that both his sons were dead, Paralus and Xanthippus,
how he behaved himself upon this accident Protagoras tells us in these
words. “When his sons,” saith he, “being in the first verdure of their
youth and handsome lads, died within eight days, he bore the calamity
without any repining; for he was of a pacific temper, from whence
there was every day an accession of advantages towards the making
him happy, the being free from grief, and thereby acquiring a great
reputation amongst his fellow-citizens. For every one that saw him bear
this calamity with so brave a resolution thought him magnanimous, and
indeed entertained an higher opinion of him than he strictly deserved;
for he was conscious to himself of some weakness and defects in cases
of this nature.” Now after he had received the news of the death of
his sons, he put on a garland according to the custom of his country,
and being clothed in white, he made an harangue to the people, was the
author of safe and rational counsels, and stirred up the courage of
his Athenians to warlike expeditions. Chronicles tell us, that when
an express came out of the field to Xenophon the Socratic as he was
sacrificing, which acquainted him that his son perished in the fight,
he pulled the garland from his head, and enquired after what manner
he fell; and it being told him that he died gallantly, making a great
slaughter of his enemies, after he had paused awhile to recollect
his thoughts and quiet his first emotion of concern with reason, he
adorned his head again, finished the sacrifice, and spoke thus to the
messengers: I did not make it my request to the Gods, that my son
might be immortal or long-lived, for it is not manifest whether this
was convenient for him or not, but that he might have integrity in his
principles and be a lover of his country; and now I have my desire.
Dion of Syracuse, as he was consulting with his friends concerning some
affairs, heard a great noise; and crying out and asking what was the
matter, he was told the accident, that his son was killed with a fall
from the top of the house. He was not at all surprised or astonished
at the disaster, but commanded the dead body to be delivered to the
women, that they might bury it according to custom. But he went on with
his first deliberations, and re-assumed his discourse in that part
where this accident had broken it off. It is said that Demosthenes the
orator imitated him upon the loss of his only and dearest daughter;
about which Aeschines, thinking to upbraid him, spoke after this
manner: Within seven days after the death of his daughter, before he
had performed the decencies of sorrow, and paid those common rites to
the memory of the deceased, he put on a garland, clothed himself in
white, and sacrificed, thereby outraging decency, though he had lost
his only daughter, the one which had first called him father.[175]
Thus did Aeschines with the strokes of his oratory accuse Demosthenes,
not knowing that he rather deserved a panegyric upon this occasion,
when he rejected his sorrow and preferred the love of his country to
the tenderness and compassion he ought to have for his relations. King
Antigonus, when he heard the death of his son Alcyoneus who was slain
in battle, looking steadily upon the messengers of these sad tidings,
after a little interval of silence and with a modest countenance,
spoke thus: O Alcyoneus, thou hast fallen later than I thought thou
wouldst, so brisk wast thou to run upon the thickest of thy enemies,
having no regard either to thy own safety or to my admonitions. Every
one praiseth these men for the bravery of their spirit, but none can
imitate what they have done, through the weakness of their minds which
proceeds from want of good instruction. But although there are many
examples extant, both in the Greek and Roman stories, of those who have
borne the death of their relations not only with decency but courage,
I think these that I have related to be a sufficient motive to thee to
keep tormenting grief at a distance, and so ease thyself of that labor
which hath no profit in it and is all in vain.

34. For that virtuous men die in the prime of their years by the
kindness of the Gods, to whom they are peculiarly dear, I have already
told thee in the former part of my discourse, and will give a short
hint of it now, bearing witness to that which is so prettily said by
Menander:—

    He whom the Gods do love dies young.

But perhaps, my dear Apollonius, thou wilt thus object to me: My young
Apollonius was blessed by fortune in his life, and I ought first to
have died that he might bury me; for this is according to nature.
According to our human nature, I confess; but Providence hath other
measures, and that supreme order which governs the world is very
different; for thy son being now made happy, it was not requisite
according to nature that he should tarry in this life longer than
the time prefixed him, but that, having consummated the term of his
duration, he should perform his fatal journey, Nature recalling him to
herself. But he died untimely, you may say. Upon that account he is the
happier, not having been sensible of those evils which are incident to
life. For Euripides said truly:—

    The time of being here we style amiss;
    We call it life, but truly labor ’tis.

Thy Apollonius died in the beautiful flower of his years, a youth in
all points perfect, who gained the love, and provoked the emulation
of all his contemporaries. He was dutiful to his father and mother,
obliging to his domestics, was a scholar, and (to comprehend all in
a word) he was a lover of mankind. He had a veneration for the old
men that were his friends, as if they had been his parents, had an
affection for his companions and equals, reverenced his instructors,
was hospitable and mild to his guests and strangers, gracious to all,
and beloved by all, as well for his attractive countenance as for his
lovely affability. Therefore, being accompanied with the applauses of
thy piety and his own, he hath only made a digression from this mortal
life to eternity, as if he had withdrawn from the entertainment before
he grew absurd, and before the staggerings of drunkenness came upon
him, which are incident to a long old age. Now if the sayings of the
old philosophers and poets are true, as there is probability to think,
that honors and high seats of dignity are conferred upon the righteous
after they are departed this life, and if, as it is said, a particular
region is appointed for their souls to dwell in, you ought to cherish
very fair hopes that your son stands numbered amongst those blest
inhabitants.

35. Of the state of the pious after death, Pindar discourseth after
this manner:—

    There the sun shines with an unsullied light,
    When all the world below is thick with night.
    There all the richly scented plants do grow,
    And there the crimson-colored roses blow;
    Each flower blooming on its tender stalk,
    And all these meadows are their evening walk.
    There trees peculiarly delight the sense,
    With their exhaled perfumes of frankincense.
    The boughs their noble burdens cannot hold,
    The weight must sink them when the fruit is gold.
    Some do the horse unto the manege bring,
    Others unto the tuneful lute do sing;
    There’s plenty to excess of every thing.
    The region always doth serene appear,
    The sun and pious flames do make it clear,
    Where fragrant gums do from the altars rise,
    When to the Gods they offer sacrifice.

And proceeding farther, in another lamentation he spake thus concerning
the soul:—

    Just we that distribution may call,
    Which to each man impartially doth fall.
    It doth decide the dull contentious strife,
    And easeth the calamities of life.
    Death doth its efforts on the body spend;
    But the aspiring soul doth upwards tend.
    Nothing can damp that bright and subtile flame,
    Immortal as the Gods from whence it came.
    But this sometimes a drowsy nap will take,
    When all the other members are awake.
    Fancy in various dreams doth to it show,
    What punishments unto each crime is due;
    What pleasures are reserved for pious deeds,
    And with what scourges the incestuous bleeds.

36. Divine Plato hath spoken many things of the immortality of the soul
in that book which he calls his Phaedo; not a few in his Republic,
his Menon, and his Gorgias; and hath some scattered expressions in
the rest of his dialogues. The things which are written by him in his
Dialogue concerning the Soul I will send you by themselves, illustrated
with my commentaries upon them, according to your request. I will now
only quote those which are opportune and to the present purpose, and
they are the words of Socrates to Callicles the Athenian, who was the
companion and scholar of Gorgias the rhetorician. For so saith Socrates
in Plato:—

“Hear then,” saith he, “a most elegant story, which you, I fancy, will
think to be a fable, but I take it to be a truth, for the things which
I shall tell you have nothing but reality in them. Jupiter, Neptune,
and Pluto, as Homer tells us, divided amongst themselves the kingdom
which they received by inheritance from their father; but there was a
law established concerning men in the reign of Saturn, which was then
valid and still remains in force amongst the Gods, that that mortal
which had led a just and pious life should go, when he died, into the
fortunate islands of the blest, and there dwell in happiness, free from
all misery; but he that had lived impiously and in contempt of the Gods
should be shackled with vengeance, and be thrust into that prison which
they call Tartarus. In the time of Saturn, and in the first beginning
of Jove’s empire, the living judged the living, and that the same day
that they were to die; whereupon the decisions of the bench were not
rightly managed. Therefore Pluto and his curators under him came out of
these fortunate islands, and complained to Jupiter that men were sent
to both places who were not worthy. I, saith Jupiter, will take care
that this thing be not practised for the future; for the reason that
the sentences are now unjustly passed is that the guilty come clothed
to the tribunal, and whilst they are yet alive. For some of profligate
dispositions are yet palliated with a beautiful outside, with riches,
and titles of nobility; and so when they come to be arraigned, many
will offer themselves as witnesses to swear that they have lived very
pious lives. The judges are dazzled with these appearances, and they
sit upon them too in their robes; so that their minds are (as it
were) covered and obscured with eyes and ears, and indeed with the
encumbrance of the whole body. The judges and the prisoners being
clothed is thus a very great impediment. Therefore in the first place
the foreknowledge of death is to be taken away; for now they see the
end of their line, and Prometheus has been commanded to see that this
be no longer allowed. Next they ought to be divested of all dress
and ornament, and come dead to the tribunal. The judge himself is to
be naked and dead too, that with his own soul he may view the naked
soul of each one so soon as he is dead, when he is now forsaken of
his relations, and has left behind him all his gayeties in the other
world; and so justice will be impartially pronounced. Deliberating on
this with myself before I received your advice, I have constituted my
sons judges, Minos and Rhadamanthus from Asia, and Aeacus from Europe;
these therefore, after they have departed this life, shall assume their
character, and exercise it in the field, and in the road where two
ways divide themselves, the one leading to the fortunate islands, and
the other to the deep abyss; so Rhadamanthus shall judge the Asians,
and Aeacus the Europeans. But to Minos I will grant the authority of a
final appeal, that if any thing hath escaped the notice of the others,
it shall be subjected to his cognizance, as to the last resort of a
supreme judge; that so it may be rightly decided what journey every one
ought to take. These are the things, Callicles, which I have heard and
think to be true; and I draw this rational inference from them, that
death in my opinion is nothing else but the separation of two things
nearly united, which are soul and body.”[176]

37. These collections, my dear Apollonius, I have joined together with
all the accuracy I could, and out of them composed this consolatory
letter I now send thee, which is very necessary to dispel thy
melancholy humor and put a period to thy sighs. I have paid likewise
that deference which became me to the ashes of thy son, who is the
darling of the Gods, such an honor being most acceptable to those whom
fame hath consecrated to immortality. Thou wilt therefore do handsomely
to believe the reasons I have urged to thee, and gratify thy deceased
son, by shaking off this unprofitable sorrow, which eats into thy mind
and afflicts thy body, and again returning to that course of humor
which nature hath chalked out and the former customs of thy life have
made familiar to thee. For as, when thy son lived amongst us, he could
not without the deepest regret see thee or his mother sad, so now that
he is amongst the Gods enjoying the intimacy of their conversation,
such a prospect from thence must be much more displeasing. Therefore
take up the resolutions of a good and generous man and of one who loved
his son, and so extricate thyself, the mother of the lad, thy kinsmen
and friends at once from this great infelicity. Betake thyself to a
more tranquil sort of life; which, as it will be acceptable to thy son,
will also be extremely pleasing to all of us who have that concern for
thee that we ought to have.




CONCERNING THE VIRTUES OF WOMEN.


Concerning the virtues of women, O Clea, I am not of the same mind with
Thucydides. For he would prove that she is the best woman concerning
whom there is the least discourse made by people abroad, either to her
praise or dispraise; judging that, as the person, so the very name of
a good woman ought to be retired and not gad abroad. But to us Gorgias
seems more accurate, who requires that not only the face but the fame
of a woman should be known to many. For the Roman law seems exceeding
good, which permits due praises to be given publicly both to men and
women after death. Wherefore when Leontis, a most excellent woman,
departed this life, immediately we made a long oration to thee about
her, and truly not devoid of philosophical consolation; and now (as
thou didst desire) I send thee in writing the rest of my speech and
conversation, carrying with it an historical demonstration that the
virtue of a man and woman is one and the same. And although it be
not composed for the tickling of the ear, yet if there be jucundity
in the nature of an example to him that is persuaded of the truth
of it, my narration fails not of that grace which works conviction;
neither is it ashamed of commixing the Graces with the Muses in the
sweetest harmony (as Euripides saith), while it engageth confidence
especially through that part of the soul which is studious of grace
and beauty. For surely, if, whilst we asserted the art of painting to
be the same, whether performed by men or women, we produced the same
sort of draughts wrought by women which Apelles, Zeuxis, or Nicomachus
hath left, is there any one who would reprehend us as attempting
rather to humor and cajole men than to convince them? Verily I do not
think it. Moreover, if, whilst we go to make appear that the poetic
or comic art is not one thing in men and another in women, we compare
Sappho’s verses with Anacreon’s, or the Sibylline oracles with those of
Bacis, can any one justly blame this way of argumentation, because it
insinuates a credence into the pleased and delighted hearers? No one
surely would say this. Neither can a man truly any way better learn the
resemblance and the difference between feminine and virile virtue than
by comparing together lives with lives, exploits with exploits, as the
products of some great art; duly considering whether the magnanimity
of Semiramis carries with it the same character and impression with
that of Sesostris, or the cunning of Tanaquil the same with that of
King Servius, or the discretion of Porcia the same with that of Brutus,
or that of Pelopidas with Timoclea,—regarding that quality of these
virtues wherein lie their chiefest point and force. Moreover, virtues
do admit some other differences, like peculiar colors, by reason of
men’s dispositions, and are assimilated to the manners and temperaments
of the bodies wherein they are, yea, to the education and manner of
diet. Achilles was courageous in one manner, Ajax in another; the
subtlety of Ulysses was not like that of Nestor, neither were Cato and
Agesilaus just after the same manner; neither was Eirene a lover of her
husband as Alcestis was; neither was Cornelia magnanimous in the same
way with Olympias. But, for all this, we do not say that there are many
kinds of fortitude, prudence, and justice specifically distinct, so
long as their individual dissimilitudes exclude none of them from the
specific definitions.

Those things now which are very commonly discoursed of, and of which I
know thou hast had the exact history and knowledge from solid books, I
will at present omit, unless there be some public and recorded matters
worth your hearing, which have escaped the historians of former times.

And seeing that many worthy things, both public and private, have been
done by women, it is not amiss to give a brief historical account of
those that are public, in the first place.


EXAMPLE 1. _Of the Trojan Women._

Of those that escaped at the taking of Troy the most part were
exercised with much tempestuous weather, and being inexperienced in
navigation and unacquainted with the sea, they were wafted over into
Italy; and about the river Tiber they made a very narrow escape by
putting into such ports and havens as they could meet with. Whilst
the men went about the country to enquire after pilots, there fell
out a discourse among the women, that for a people as fortunate and
happy as they had been, any fixed habitation on the land was better
than perpetual wandering over the sea; and that they must make a new
country for themselves, seeing it was impossible to recover that which
they had lost. Upon this, complotting together, they set fire on the
ships, Roma (as they say) being one of the first in the attempt. But
having done these things, they went to meet their husbands, who were
running towards the sea to the relief of the ships; and fearing their
indignation, they laid hold some of them on their husbands, and some on
their kinsfolk, and fell a kissing them soundly; by which carriage they
obtained their charitable reception. Wherefore it hath been formerly,
and now remains to be a custom among the Romans, for the women to
salute their kinsfolk that come unto them by kissing.

The Trojans as it seems, being sensible of the strait they were in, and
having also made some experience of the natives entertaining them with
much bounty and humanity, applauded the exploit of the women, and sat
down by the Latins.


EXAMPLE 2. _Of the Phocian Women._

The action of the women of Phocis hath not fallen under the cognizance
of any noted writer of that age, and yet there was never a more
memorable deed of virtue wrought by women,—the which is attested by
those famous sacred rites performed by the Phocians at Hyampolis,
and by ancient decrees. The total history of the transaction is
particularly recorded in the Life of Daiphantus.

The story of those women is this. There was an implacable war between
the Thessalians and the Phocians. For these (the Phocians) slew all
the Thessalian governors and magistrates in the cities of Phocis in
one day. Whereupon they (the Thessalians) slew two hundred and fifty
Phocian hostages, and with their whole host marched up against them
through Locris, publishing their resolution to spare no men that were
of age, and to sell the women and children for slaves. Daiphantus
therefore, the son of Bathyllius, a triumvir, governor of Phocis,
persuaded the Phocian men themselves to go to meet the Thessalians in
battle; but as for the women, together with their children, that they
should assemble them from all the parts of Phocis into one place, which
they should pile round with combustible matter, and should leave a
watch, to whom they should give in charge, that if he perceived that
the men were conquered, he should immediately set fire to the pile and
burn all the bodies to ashes. The counsels were agreed to by some, but
one stands up and saith: It is just that these things be consented to
by the women also, and if they do not cheerfully submit to it, they
should have no force offered to them. The account of this discourse
being come to the women, they assembled together by themselves, and
carried it by vote, and applauded Daiphantus as a man that best
consulted the affairs of Phocis; they say also, that the children
meeting together privately voted the same things. These matters being
thus settled, the Phocians joining battle at Cleonae, a town of
Hyampolis, got the victory. Hence the Grecians call this vote of the
Phocian women Aponoia (the desperate resolve). And of all the festivals
this of the Elaphebolia is the greatest, which they observe to Diana in
Hyampolis to this day, in remembrance of this victory.


EXAMPLE 3. _Of the Women of Chios._

The people of Chios possessed themselves of Leuconia upon this
occasion following. A certain famous man of the nobles of Chios was
married; whilst the bride was drawn in her chariot, King Hippoclus,
an intimate friend of the bridegroom’s, being present with the rest,
and also fuddled and merry, leaped into the chariot, not designing any
incivility, but only to keep up the usual custom and to make sport.
However, the bridegroom’s friends slew him. The effects of divine
displeasure appearing against the people of Chios, and the oracle
commanding them to slay the slayers of Hippoclus, they replied, We have
all of us slain Hippoclus. The oracle commanded them all therefore
to depart the city, if all did partake of the guilt. So that at
length the principals, accessories, and abettors of the murder by any
means whatsoever, being not a few in number nor feeble for strength,
transplanted themselves into Leuconia, which the Chians had once
taken from the Coroneans by the aid of the Erythraeans. Afterward a
war arising between them and the Erythraeans, by far the most potent
people among the Ionians, when the latter invaded Leuconia, the men of
Chios were not able to defend themselves, and came to an agreement to
depart upon these terms, that every one should take with him only one
cloak and one coat, and nothing else. But the women of Chios upbraided
them as mean-spirited men, that they would lay down their weapons and
go naked men through their enemies. And when they made answer that
they were sworn so to do, they charged them not to leave their weapons
behind them, but to say to their adversaries, that the spear is a cloak
and the buckler a coat to every man of courage. The men of Chios being
persuaded to these things, and emboldening themselves courageously
against the Erythraeans, and showing their weapons, the Erythraeans
were amazed at their audacity, and none opposed or hindered them, but
were glad of their departure. These men therefore, being taught courage
by the women in this manner, made a safe escape.

Many years after this there was another exploit, nothing inferior
to this in fortitude, performed by the women of Chios. When Philip,
the son of Demetrius, besieged the city, he set forth a barbarous
and insolent proclamation, inviting the servants to a defection upon
promise of liberty and marriage of their mistresses, saying that he
would give them their masters’ wives into their possession. At this the
women were dreadfully and outrageously incensed; and also the servants
were no less provoked to indignation, and were ready to assist.
Therefore they rushed forth furiously and ascended the wall, bringing
stones and darts, encouraging and animating the soldiers; so that in
the end these women discomfited and repulsed the enemy, and caused
Philip to raise his siege, while not so much as one servant fell off to
him.


EXAMPLE 4. _Of the Argive Women._

Of all the renowned actions performed by women, none was more famous
than the fight with Cleomenes in the country of Argos, whom Telesilla
the poetess by her influence defeated. This woman they say was of an
honorable family, but had a sickly body; she therefore sent to consult
the oracle concerning her health. Answer was made, that she must be a
servant to the Muses. Accordingly she becomes obedient to the Goddess,
applying herself to poetry and music; her distempers left her, and she
became the mirror of women in the art of poetry. Now when Cleomenes,
king of the Spartans, having slain many Argives (but not so many as
some fabulously reported, to wit, 7,777), marched up against the city,
the youthful women were (as it were) divinely inspired with desperate
resolution and courage to repulse the enemies out of their native
country.

They take arms under the conduct of Telesilla, they place themselves
upon the battlements, they crown the walls, even to the admiration of
the enemy; they by a sally beat off Cleomenes, with the slaughter of
many of his men; and as for the other king, Demaratus (as Socrates
saith), he having entered the city and possessed him of the so-called
Pamphyliacum, they beat him out. In this manner the city being
preserved, those women that were slain in the engagement they buried by
the Argive road; to them that escaped they gave the honor of erecting
the statue of Mars, in perpetual memorial of their bravery. Some say
this fight was on the seventh day of the month; others say it was on
the first day of the month, which is now called the fourth and was
anciently called Hermaeus by the Argives; upon which day, even to
this time, they perform their Hybristica (i.e., their sacred rites of
incivility), clothing the women with men’s coats and cloaks, but the
men with women’s veils and petticoats. To repair the scarcity of men,
they admitted not slaves, as Herodotus saith, but the best sort of the
adjacent inhabitants to be citizens, and married them to the widows;
and these the women thought meet to reproach and undervalue at bed and
board, as worse than themselves; whence there was a law made, that
married women should wear beards when they lay with their husbands.


EXAMPLE 5. _Of the Persian Women._

Cyrus, causing the Persians to revolt from King Astyages and the
Medes, was overcome in battle; and the Persians retreating by flight
into the city, the enemy pursued so close that they had almost fallen
into the city with them. The women ran out to meet them before the
city, plucking up their petticoats to their middle, saying, Ye vilest
varlets among men, whither so fast? Ye surely cannot find a refuge in
these parts, from whence ye came forth. The Persians blushing for shame
at the sight and speech, and rebuking themselves, faced about, and
renewing the fight routed their enemies. Hence a law was enacted, that
when the king enters the city, every woman should receive a piece of
gold; and this law Cyrus made. And they say that Ochus, being in other
kinds a naughty and covetous king, would always, when he came, compass
the city and not enter it, and so deprive the women of their largess;
but Alexander entered twice, and gave all the women with child a double
benevolence.


EXAMPLE 6. _Of the Celtic Women._

There arose a very grievous and irreconcilable contention among the
Celts, before they passed over the Alps to inhabit that tract of Italy
which now they inhabit, which proceeded to a civil war. The women
placing themselves between the armies, took up the controversies,
argued them so accurately, and determined them so impartially, that an
admirable friendly correspondence and general amity ensued, both civil
and domestic. Hence the Celts made it their practice to take women into
consultation about peace or war, and to use them as mediators in any
controversies that arose between them and their allies. In the league
therefore made with Hannibal, the writing runs thus: If the Celts take
occasion of quarrelling with the Carthaginians, the governors and
generals of the Carthaginians in Spain shall decide the controversy;
but if the Carthaginians accuse the Celts, the Celtic women shall be
judges.


EXAMPLE 7. _Of the Melian Women._

The Melians standing in need of a larger country constituted
Nymphaeus, a handsome man and marvellously comely, the commander for
the transplanting of the colony. The oracle enjoined them to continue
sailing till they cast away their ships, and there to pitch their
colony. It happened that, when they arrived at Caria and went ashore,
their ships were broken to pieces by a storm. Some of the Carians which
dwelt at Cryassus, whether commiserating their distressed condition or
dreading their resolution, invited them to dwell in their neighborhood,
and bestowed upon them a part of their country; but then observing
their marvellous increase in a little time, they conspired to cut them
off by treachery, and provided a feast and great entertainment for that
end and purpose. But it came to pass that a certain virgin in Caria,
whose name was Caphene, fell in love with Nymphaeus. While these things
were in agitation, she could not endure to connive at the destruction
of her beloved Nymphaeus, and therefore acquainted him privately with
the conspiracy of the citizens against him. When the Cryassians came
to invite them, Nymphaeus made this answer: It is not the custom of
the Greeks to go to a feast without their wives. The Carians hearing
this requested them also to bring their wives; and so explaining the
whole transaction to the Melians, he charged the men to go without
armor in plain apparel, but that every one of the women should carry
a dagger stuck in her bosom, and that each should take her place by
her husband. About the middle of supper, their signal token was given
to the Carians; the point of time also the Grecians were sensible of.
Accordingly the women laid open their bosoms, and the men laid hold
of the daggers, and sheathing them in the barbarians, slew them all
together. And possessing themselves of the country, they overthrew that
city, and built another, which they called New Cryassus. Moreover,
Caphene being married to Nymphaeus received due honor and grateful
acknowledgments becoming her good services. Here the taciturnity and
courage of women is worthy of admiration, that none of them among so
many did so much as unwittingly, by reason of fear, betray their trust.


EXAMPLE 8. _Of the Tyrrhene Women._

At the time when the Tyrrhenians inhabited the islands Lemnos and
Imbros, they violently seized upon some Athenian women from Brauron, on
whom they begat children, which children the Athenians banished from
the islands as mixed barbarians. But these arriving at Taenarum were
serviceable to the Spartans in the Helotic war, and therefore obtained
the privilege of citizens and marriage, but were not dignified with
magistracies or admitted to the senate; for they had a suspicion that
they would combine together in order to some innovation, and conceived
they might shake the present established government. Wherefore the
Lacedaemonians, seizing on them and securing them, shut them up close
prisoners, seeking to take them off by evident and strong convictions.
But the wives of the prisoners, gathering together about the prison,
by many supplications prevailed with the jailers that they might be
admitted to go to salute their husbands and speak with them. As soon as
they came in, they required them to change their clothes immediately
and leave them to their wives; while the men, apparelled in their
wives’ habits, should go forth. These things being effected, the women
stayed behind, prepared to endure all hard usages of the prison, but
the deluded keepers let out the men as if they had been their wives.
Whereupon they seized upon Taygeta, exciting the Helotic people to
revolt, and taking them to their aid; but the Spartans, alarmed by
these things into a great consternation, by a herald proclaimed a
treaty of peace. And they were reconciled upon these conditions, that
they should receive their wives again, and furnished with ships and
provisions should make an expedition by sea, and possessing themselves
of a land and a city elsewhere should be accounted a colony and allies
of the Lacedaemonians. These things did the Pelasgians, taking Pollis
for their captain and Crataedas his brother, both Lacedaemonians, and
one part of them took up their seat in Melos; but the most part of
them, which were shipped with Pollis, sailed into Crete, trying the
truth of the oracles, by whom they were told that, when they should
lose their Goddess and their anchor, then they should put an end to
their roving and there build a city. Wherefore, putting into harbor on
that part of Crete called Chersonesus, panic fears fell upon them by
night, at which coming under a consternation, they leaped tumultuously
on board their ships, leaving on shore for haste the statue of Diana,
which was their patrimony brought from Brauron to Lemnos, and from
Lemnos carried about with them wherever they went. The tumult being
appeased, when they had set sail, they missed this statue; and at the
same time Pollis, finding that his anchor had lost one of its beards
(for the anchor, having been dragged, as appeared, through some rocky
place, was accidentally torn), said that the oracular answer of the
Pythia was accomplished. Therefore he gave a sign to tack about, and
accordingly made an inroad into that country, conquered those that
opposed him in many battles, sat down at Lyctus, and brought many
other cities to be tributary to him. And now they repute themselves
to be akin to the Athenians on their mothers’ side, and to be Spartan
colonies.


EXAMPLE 9. _Of the Lycian Women._

That which is reported to have fallen out in Lycia, although it be
fabulous, hath yet common fame attesting it. Amisodarus, as they say,
whom the Lycians call Isaras, came from a colony of the Lycians about
Zeleia, bringing with him pirate ships, which Chimarrhus, a warlike
man, who was also savage and brutish, was commander of. He sailed in a
ship which had a lion carved on her head and a dragon on her stern. He
did much mischief to the Lycians, so that they could not sail on the
sea nor inhabit the towns nigh the sea-coast.

This man Bellerophon pursued with his Pegasus and slew him, and also
defeated the Amazons, for which he obtained no due requital, but
Iobates the king was most unjust to him; upon which Bellerophon went
to the seashore, and made earnest supplication by himself to Neptune
that he would render that country barren and unfruitful; and having
said his prayers, he faced about. Upon which the waves of the sea
arose and overwhelmed the land, and it was a dreadful sight to behold
the lofty billows following Bellerophon and drowning the plain. And
now, when the men by their deprecation, laboring to put a stop to
Bellerophon, availed nothing at all, the women plucking up their
petticoats met him full butt; upon which confounded with shame he
turned back again, and the flood, as they say, returned with him. But
some unriddle the fabulous part of this story, by telling us that it
was not by execrations that he brought up the sea; but the fattest part
of the plain lying lower than the sea, and a certain ridge extending
itself all along the shore which beat off the sea, Bellerophon broke
through this, so that the sea forcibly flowed in and overwhelmed the
plain; and when the men by their humble addresses obtained nothing,
the women assembling about him in multitudes gained respect from him
and pacified his wrath. Some tell us that the celebrated Chimaera
was a mountain opposite to the sun, which caused reflections of the
sun’s beams, and in summer ardent and fiery heats, which spread over
the plain and withered the fruits; and Bellerophon, finding out the
reason of the mischief, cut through the smoothest part of the cliff,
which especially caused these reflections. But on seeing that he was
treated ungratefully, his indignation was excited to take vengeance on
the Lycians, but was appeased by the women. The reason which Nymphis
(in the fourth book concerning Heraclea) doth assign is to me not at
all fabulous; for he saith, when Bellerophon slew a certain wild boar,
which destroyed the cattle and fruits in the province of the Xanthians,
and received no due reward of his service, he prayed to Neptune for
vengeance, and obtained that all the fields should cast forth a salt
dew and be universally corrupted, the soil becoming bitter; which
continued till he, condescendingly regarding the women suppliants,
prayed to Neptune, and removed his wrath from them. Hence there was a
law among the Xanthians, that they should not for the future derive
their names from their fathers, but from their mothers.


EXAMPLE 10. _Of the Women of Salmantica._

When Hannibal, the son of Barca, besieged the great city Salmantica
in Spain, before he fought against the Romans, at the first assault
the besieged citizens were surprised with fear, insomuch that they
consented to grant him his demands, and to give him three hundred
talents of silver and three hundred hostages. Upon which he raised his
siege; when they changed their minds, and would not perform any thing
that they had promised. Wherefore returning again to his siege, he
gave command to his soldiers to take the city by storm, and fall to
the plundering their goods. At this the barbarians, struck universally
into a panic fear, came to terms of composition, for the free citizens
to depart the city with their clothes to their backs, but to leave
their weapons, goods, slaves, and city behind them. Now the women
supposed that, although the enemies would strictly search every man
as he departed, yet the women would go untouched. Accordingly, taking
scimitars and hiding them under their coats, they fell in with the men
as they marched out. When they were all gone out of the city, Hannibal
sets a guard of Masaesylian soldiers, fixing their post without the
gate, but the rest of his army fell promiscuously into the city to
plunder. But the Masaesylians, seeing them busy in carrying away much
spoil, were not able any longer to refrain or to mind the charge of
their watch, taking it heinously that that was their lot, and therefore
left their post and went to take their share of the booty. Upon this
the women raised a shout to animate their husbands, and delivered the
scimitars into their hands, and they themselves some of them fell upon
the sentinels; insomuch that one of them, snatching away the spear of
Banon the interpreter, smote him with it, though he was armed with a
breastplate. And as for the rest, the men routed and put some to flight
and slew others, making their escape by charging through them in a
great body together with the women. Hannibal, being made acquainted
with these things, pursued them, and those he took he slew; but some
betaking themselves to the mountains easily made their escape, and
afterwards, sending in their humble supplications, were admitted by
him into the city, obtaining indemnity and civil usage.


EXAMPLE 11. _Of the Women of Milesia._

A certain dreadful and monstrous distemper did seize the Milesian
maids, arising from some hidden cause. It is most likely the air had
acquired some infatuating and venomous quality, that did influence
them to this change and alienation of mind; for all on a sudden an
earnest longing for death, with furious attempts to hang themselves,
did attack them, and many did privily accomplish it. The arguments and
tears of parents and the persuasion of friends availed nothing, but
they circumvented their keepers in all their contrivances and industry
to prevent them, still murdering themselves. And the calamity seemed to
be an extraordinary divine stroke and beyond human help, until by the
counsel of a wise man a decree of the senate was passed, enacting that
those maids who hanged themselves should be carried naked through the
market-place. The passage of this law not only inhibited but quashed
their desire of slaying themselves. Note what a great argument of good
nature and virtue this fear of disgrace is; for they who had no dread
upon them of the most terrible things in the world, death and pain,
could not abide the imagination of dishonor and exposure to shame even
after death.


EXAMPLE 12. _Of the Women of Cios._

It was a custom among the maids of Cios to assemble together in the
public temples, and to pass the day together in good fellowship; and
there their sweethearts had the felicity to behold how prettily they
sported and danced about. In the evening this company went to the house
of every particular maid in her turn, and waited upon each other’s
parents and brethren very officiously, even to the washing of their
feet. It oftentimes so fell out that many young men fell in love with
one maid; but they carried it so decently and civilly that, when the
maid was espoused to one, the rest presently gave off courting of her.
The effect of this good order among the women was that no mention was
made of any adultery or fornication among them for the space of seven
hundred years.


EXAMPLE 13. _Of the Phocian Women._

When the tyrants of Phocis had taken Delphi, and the Thebans undertook
that war against them which was called the Holy War, certain women
devoted to Bacchus (which they call Thyades) fell frantic and went a
gadding by night, and mistaking their way they came to Amphissa; and
being very much tired and not as yet in their right wits, they flung
down themselves in the market-place, and fell asleep as they lay
scattered up and down here and there. But the wives of the Amphisseans,
fearing, because that city was engaged to aid the Phocians in the
war and abundance of the tyrants’ soldiery were present in the city,
the Thyades might have some indignity put upon them, ran forth all
of them into the market-place and stood silently round about them,
neither would offer them any disturbance whilst they slept; but when
they were awake, they attended their service particularly and brought
them refreshments; and in fine, by persuasions obtained leave of their
husbands to accompany them and escort them in safety to their own
borders.


EXAMPLE 14. _Valeria and Cloelia._

The injury done to Lucretia and her great virtue were the causes of
banishing Tarquinius Superbus, the seventh Roman king from Romulus,
she being married to an illustrious man, one of the royal race. She
was ravished by one of Tarquin’s sons, who was in a way of hospitality
entertained by her: and after she had acquainted her friends and
family with the abuse offered her, she immediately slew herself.
Tarquinius having fallen from his dominion, after many battles that he
fought in attempting to regain his kingly government, at last prevailed
with Porsena, prince of the Etrurians, to encamp against Rome with
a powerful army. Whereupon the Romans, being pressed with war and
famine at the same time, likewise knowing that Porsena was not only
a great soldier but a just and civil person, resolved to refer the
matters against Tarquinius to him as a judge. This proposal Tarquinius
obstinately refused to consent unto, saying that Porsena could not be a
just arbitrator if he did not remain constant to his military alliance.
Whereupon Porsena left him to himself, and made it his endeavor to
depart a friend to the Romans, on condition of having restored to
him the tracts of land they had cut off from the Etrurians and the
captives they had taken. Upon these accepted conditions hostages being
given,—ten male children, and ten females (among whom was Valeria, the
daughter of Publicola the consul),—he immediately ceased his warlike
preparations before the articles of agreement were quite finished. Now
the virgin hostages going down to the river, as if they intended only
to wash themselves a little further than ordinary from the camp, there,
by the instigation of one of them whose name was Cloelia, wrapping
their garments about their heads, they cast themselves into that great
river Tiber, and assisting one another, swam through those vast depths
with much labor and difficulty. There are some who say that Cloelia
compassing a horse got upon him, and passing over gently before, the
rest swimming after her, conducted, encouraged, and assisted them; the
argument they use for this we shall declare anon.

As soon as the Romans saw the maids had made such a clever escape, they
admired indeed their fortitude and resolution, but did not approve
of their return, not abiding to be worse in their faith than any
one man; therefore they charged the maids to return back, and sent
them away with a safe conduct. Tarquinius laid wait for them as they
passed the river, and wanted but little of intercepting the virgins.
But Valeria with three of her household servants made her flight to
the camp of Porsena; and as for the rest, Aruns, Porsena’s son, gave
them speedy help and delivered them from the enemies. When they were
brought, Porsena looking upon them commanded them to tell him which
of them advised and first attempted this enterprise; all of them
being surprised with fear, except Cloelia, were silent, but she said,
that she was the author of it; at which Porsena, mightily surprised,
commanded an horse curiously adorned with trappings should be brought,
which he gave to Cloelia, and dismissed them all with much generosity
and civility; and this is the ground which many make of saying that
Cloelia passed through the river on horseback. Others deny this story,
but yet say that Porsena admiring the undauntedness and confidence
of the maid, as being beyond what is commonly in a woman, bestowed a
present on her becoming a man champion. It is certain that there is the
statue of a woman on horseback by the side of the Sacred Way, which
some say represents Cloelia, others, Valeria.


EXAMPLE 15. _Of Micca and Megisto._

Aristotimus having usurped tyranny over the people of Elis in
Peloponnesus, against whom he prevailed by the aid of King Antigonus,
used not his power with any meekness or moderation. For he was
naturally a savage man; and being in servile fear of a band of mixed
barbarians, who guarded his person and his government, he connived
at many injurious and cruel things which his subjects suffered at
their hands, among which was the calamity of Philodemus. This man had
a beautiful daughter, whose name was Micca. This maid one of the
tyrant’s captains of auxiliaries, called Lucius, attempted to lie with,
more out of a design to debauch her than for any love he had to her;
and for this end he sent to fetch her to him. The parents verily seeing
the strait they were in advised her to go; but the maid, being of a
generous and courageous spirit, clasped about her father, beseeching
him with earnest entreaties that he would rather see her put to death
than that her virginity should be filthily and wickedly violated. Some
delay being made, Lucius himself starts up in the midst of his cups,
enraged with wrath and lust, and drunk with wine; and finding Micca
laying her head on her father’s knees, he instantly commanded her to go
along with him; but she refusing, he rent off her clothes, and whipped
her stark naked, she stoutly enduring the smart in silence. When her
father and mother perceived that by their tears they could not avail
or bring any succor to her, they turned to imploring the help of both
Gods and men, as persons that were oppressed by the most cruel and
unrighteous proceedings. But this barbarous fellow, drunk and raging
every way with madness, ran the maid through as she lay with her face
in her father’s bosom. Neither was the tyrant affected with these
cruelties, but slew many and sent more into exile; for they say eight
hundred took their flight into Aetolia, petitioning the tyrant that
their wives and children might come to them. A little after he made
proclamation, permitting the women that would to go to their husbands,
carrying with them all their household goods that they pleased; but
when he perceived that all the women received the proclamation with
pleasure (for the number was above six hundred), he charged them all
to go in great companies on the appointed day, as if he intended to
consult for their safety. When the day came, they crowded at the gates
with their goods packed up, carrying their children, some in their arms
and some in carts, and stayed for one another. All on a sudden many
of the tyrant’s creatures made towards them in great haste, crying
aloud to them to stay, while they were yet at great distance from
them; and as they approached, they charged the women to return back.
Likewise turning about their chariots and carts, they forced them upon
them, drove the horses through the midst of them without fear or wit,
suffering the women neither to follow nor to stay, nor to reach forth
any help to the perishing infants, some of whom were killed falling out
of the carts, others run over by the carts. So they drove them in (as
so many sheep which butchers drive along), hauling and whipping them
as they thronged upon one another, till they had crowded them all into
a prison; but their goods they returned to Aristotimus. The people of
Elis taking these things very heinously, the priestesses devoted to
Bacchus (which they call the Sixteen), taking with them their suppliant
boughs and wreaths belonging to the service of their God, went to meet
Aristotimus in the market-place; the guards, out of a reverential awe,
stood off and gave way to their approach. These priestesses stood still
at first with silence, solemnly reaching forth their supplicatory
rods; but as soon as they appeared as petitioners and deprecators of
his wrath against the women, he fell into a great rage at the guards,
exclaiming against them that they had suffered the priestesses to
approach his presence, and he caused some to be thrust away, others
to be beaten and dragged through the market-place, and fined them two
talents apiece.

These things being transacted in this manner, one Hellanicus moved a
conspiracy against this tyrant. He was a man who, by reason of old age
and the loss of two sons by death, was unsuspected of the tyrant, as
being altogether unlikely for action. In the mean time also the exiles
waft themselves over from Aetolia, and take Amymona, a very convenient
place on the borders to entrench a camp in, where they received great
numbers of the citizens who made their escape by flight from Elis.
Aristotimus being startled at these things went in to the imprisoned
women, and thinking to work them to his pleasure more by fear than by
favor, charged them to send letters to their husbands, enjoining them
to depart out of the coasts; if they would not write, he threatened
them to slay their children before their eyes, and then put them (the
mothers) to death by torments. Whilst he was long provoking and urging
them to declare whether they would obey his mandates or not, most of
them answered him nothing, but looked with silence one upon another,
signifying by nods and gestures that they were not at all affrighted
at his threat. But Megisto the wife of Timocleon, who both in respect
of her husband and her own excellent accomplishments carried the port
of a princess among them, would not vouchsafe to rise off her seat to
him nor permit the rest so to do, but as she sat, she gave him this
answer:—

“Verily if thou wert a discreet man, thou wouldst not after this manner
discourse with women about their husbands, but wouldst send to them as
to our lords, finding out better language than that by which thou hast
deluded us. But if thou thyself despairest to prevail with them, and
therefore undertakest to trepan them by our means, do not hope to put
a cheat upon us again. And may they never be guilty of such baseness,
that for the saving their wives and little ones they will desert that
liberty of their native country; for it is not so great a prejudice
to them to lose us, whom even now they are deprived of, as it will be
benefit to set the subjects at liberty from thy cruelty and oppression.”

Aristotimus, being not able to refrain himself at this speech of
Megisto, required that her son should be brought, as if it were to
slay him before her eyes; but whilst the officer was seeking out the
child, that was in the company of other children playing and wrestling
together, his mother called him by his name, and said: Come hither, my
child; before thou hast any sense and understanding, be thou delivered
from bitter tyranny; for it would be much more grievous to me to see
thee basely enslaved than to see thee die. At which Aristotimus drawing
his sword upon the mother herself, and transported with rage, was going
to fall upon her, when one of his favorites, Cylon by name (esteemed
his trusty confidant, but in reality a hater of him, and a confederate
with Hellanicus in the conspiracy), put a stop to him, and averted him
in an humble manner, telling him: This is an ignoble and woman-like
carriage, not at all becoming a person of a princely mind and a
statesman. Hereupon Aristotimus scarcely coming to his senses departed.
Now observe what an ominous prodigy happened to him. It was about noon,
when he was taking some repose, his wife sitting by; and whilst his
servants were providing dinner, an eagle was seen in the air floating
over the house, which did, as it were considerately and on purpose,
let fall a stone of an handsome bigness upon that part of the roof of
the house which was over the apartment where Aristotimus lay. At the
same time there was also a great rattling from above, together with an
outcry made by the people that were abroad looking upon the bird. Upon
which Aristotimus, falling into a great consternation and examining
the matter, sent and called his soothsayer which he usually consulted
in his public concerns, and being in great perplexity, desired to be
satisfied what that prodigy meant. The soothsayer bade him be of good
cheer, for it signified that Jupiter now wakened and assisted him. But
to the citizens that he could confide in he said, that vengeance would
no longer be delayed from falling on the tyrant’s head. Wherefore it
was concluded by Hellanicus and his friends not to defer any longer,
but to bring matters to an issue the next day. At night Hellanicus
imagined in his sleep that he saw one of his dead sons stand by him
saying, What is the matter with thee, O father! that thou sleepest?
To-morrow thou shalt be governor of this city. Being animated by his
vision, he encouraged the rest concerned with him. Now Aristotimus
was informed that Craterus, coming to his aid with great forces, was
encamped in Olympia; upon which he became so confidently secure, that
he ventured to go without his guards into the market-place, Cylon only
accompanying him. Wherefore Hellanicus, observing this opportunity,
did not think good to give the signal to those that were to undertake
the enterprise with him, but with a clear voice and lifting up both
his hands, he spake saying: O ye good men! why do ye delay? Here is a
fair theatre in the midst of your native country for you to contend in
for the prize of valor. Whereupon Cylon in the first place drawing his
sword smote one of Aristotimus’s waiting gentlemen; but Thrasybulus and
Lampis making a brisk opposition, Aristotimus escaped by flight into
the temple of Jupiter. Here slaying him, they dragged forth his corpse
into the market-place, and proclaimed liberty to the citizens. Neither
were the men there much before the women, who immediately ran forth
with joyful acclamations, environing the men and binding triumphant
garlands about their heads. The multitude presently rushed on upon the
tyrant’s palace, where his wife shutting herself into her bed-chamber
hanged herself. He had also two daughters, maidens of most beautiful
complexions, ripe for marriage. Those they laid hands on, and haled
forth, with a desperate resolution to slay them, but first to torment
and abuse them. But Megisto, with the rest of the women, meeting them
called out with a loud voice: Will they perpetrate such enormities
who reckon themselves a free people, in imitation of the practices
of audacious and libidinous tyrants? The multitude reverencing the
gravity of this matron, pleading with them so undauntedly as also
affectionately with tears, they resolved to lay aside this opprobrious
way of proceeding, and to cause them to die by their own hands. As
they were therefore returned into the chamber, they required the maids
immediately to be their own executioners. Muro, the eldest, untying
her girdle and tying it about her neck, saluted her sister, and
exhorted her to be careful and do whatever she saw her do; lest (as
she said) we come to our death in a base and unworthy manner. But the
younger desiring it might be her lot to die first, she delivered her
the girdle, saying: I did never deny thee any thing thou didst ever
desire, neither will I now; take this favor also. I am resolved to
bear and endure that which is more grievous than death to me, to see
my most dear sister die before me. Upon this, when she had instructed
her sister how to put the girdle so as to strangle her, and perceived
her dead, she took her down and covered her. And now the eldest sister,
whose turn was next, besought Megisto to take care of her, and not
suffer her to lie indecently after she was dead. So that there was not
any one present that was so bitter and vehement a tyrant-hater that he
did not lament and compassionate these maidens upon their brave and
virtuous behavior.

       *       *       *       *       *

Of the innumerable famous exploits performed by women, these examples
may suffice. But as for their particular virtues, we will describe
them according as they offer themselves scattered here and there, not
supposing that our present history doth necessarily require an exact
order of time.


EXAMPLE 16. _Of Pieria._

Some of the Ionians who came to dwell at Miletus, falling into
contention with the sons of Neleus, departed to Myus, and there
took up their situation, where they suffered many injuries from the
Milesians; for they made war upon them by reason of their revolt
from them. This war was not indeed without truces or commerce, but
upon certain festival days the women of Myus went to Miletus. Now
there was at Myus Pythes, a renowned man among them, who had a wife
called Iapygia, and a daughter Pieria. Pythes, when there was a time
of feasting and sacrificing to Diana among the Milesians, which they
called Neleis, sent his wife and daughter, who desired to participate
of the said feast; when one of the most potent sons of Neleus, Phrygius
by name, fell in love with Pieria. He desired to know what service he
could do which might be most acceptable to her. She told him, that he
should bring it to pass that she with many others might have their
frequent recourse thither. Hence Phrygius understood that she desired
friendship and peace with the citizens of Miletus; accordingly he
finished the war. Whence arose that great honor and renown of Pieria in
both cities; insomuch that the Milesian women do to this day make use
of this benediction to new married wives, that their husbands may love
them so as Phrygius loved Pieria.


EXAMPLE 17. _Of Polycrita._

A war arose between the Naxians and Milesians upon the account of
Neaera, the wife of Hypsicreon, a Milesian. For she fell in love
with Promedon a Naxian, who was Hypsicreon’s guest. Promedon lies
with his beloved Neaera; and she, fearing her husband’s displeasure,
took shipping with her Promedon, who carried her over into Naxos and
placed her a supplicant to Vesta. The Naxians not restoring her upon
demand, for the sake of Promedon and making her devotion to Vesta their
pretence, a war arose. To the assistance of the Milesians came in many
others; and of the Ionians the Erythraeans were most ready. So that
this war was of long continuance, and had great calamities attending
it. But as it was begun by the lewdness of a woman, so it was ended by
a woman’s policy. Diognetus, a colonel of the Erythraeans, holding a
fortification committed to his keeping, which was cast up against the
Naxians, lying naturally to great advantage and well furnished with
ammunition, took great spoils from the Naxians; yea, he captivated both
free married women and virgins; with one of which, called Polycrita,
he fell in love, and treated her not as a captive but after the manner
of a married wife. Now a festival coming in turn to be celebrated
among the Milesians in the camp, and all of them given to their cups
and luxury, Polycrita petitioned Diognetus that he would be pleased
to permit her to send some part of the cakes to her brethren. He
permitting and bidding her do it, she thrust into a cake a piece of
lead engraven with writing, and commanded the bearer to say to her
brethren that they alone by themselves should eat up what she had sent.
Accordingly they met with the plate of lead, and read Polycrita’s
hand-writing, advising them that night to fall upon their enemies,
who, by reason of excess caused by their feastings, were overcome with
wine and therefore in a careless secure condition. They acquainted the
officers with it, and urged them to accompany them forth against the
enemies. Upon engagement the stronghold being gotten and many slain,
Polycrita by entreaty of her countrymen obtained the life of Diognetus
and preserved him. But she being met by her countrymen at the gate,
who received her with acclamations of joy and garlands, and greatly
applauded her deed, could not bear the greatness of the joy, but died,
falling down at the gate of the citadel, where she was buried; and
it is called the Sepulchre of Envy, as though some envious fortune
had grudged Polycrita the fruition of so great honor. And thus do the
Naxian writers declare the history. But Aristotle saith, that Polycrita
was not taken captive, but that by some other way or means Diognetus
seeing her fell in love with her, and was ready to give and do all that
he could for the enjoying her. Polycrita promised to consent to him,
provided she might obtain one only thing of him; concerning which,
as the philosopher saith, she required an oath of Diognetus. When he
had sworn, she required Delium to be delivered up to her (for the
stronghold was called Delium), otherwise she would not yield to go with
him. He, being besotted with lust and for his oath’s sake, delivered up
the place into the hands of Polycrita, and she to her countrymen. From
henceforward they adjusted matters so equally, that the Naxians had
free converse, as they pleased, with the Milesians.


EXAMPLE 18. _Of Lampsace._

There were two brethren, Phobus and Blepsus, twins of the stock of
Codrus, natives of Phocaea; of which two Phobus, the elder, threw
himself from the Leucadian rocks into the sea, as Charon of Lampsacus
hath told us in history. This Phobus, having potency and royal dignity,
took a voyage into Parium upon the account of his own private concerns;
and becoming a friend and guest to Mandron king of the Bebrycians, the
same that were called Pituoëssans, he aided and assisted him in the war
against those of the bordering inhabitants that molested him. So that
when Phobus was returning back by sea, Mandron showed great civility to
him, promising to give him a part of his country and city, if he would
bring over the Phocaeans and plant them as inhabitants in Pituoëssa.
Phobus therefore persuading his countrymen sent his brother to conduct
them over as planters, and likewise the obligation was performed on
Mandron’s part according to expectation. But the Phocaeans taking great
booty, prey, and spoils from the neighboring barbarians, were first
envied, and afterwards became a terror to the Bebrycians; and therefore
they desired to be rid of them. As for Mandron, being an honest and
righteous person, they could not possess him against the Grecians;
but he taking a long journey, they provided to destroy the Phocaeans
by treachery. Mandron had a daughter called Lampsace, a virgin, who
was acquainted with the plot; and first she endeavored to take off
her friends and familiars from it, admonishing them what a dreadful
and ungodly enterprise they were going upon,—to murder men that were
benefactors, military auxiliaries, and now citizens. But when she could
not prevail with them, she declared to the Grecians secretly what was
plotting, and wished them to stand upon their guard. Upon this, the
Phocaeans provided a sacrifice and feast, and invited the Pituoëssans
into the suburbs; on which, dividing themselves into two parts, with
one they surprised the walls of the city, with the other they slew the
men. Thus taking the city, they sent to Mandron, desiring him to join
with their own rulers in the government. As for Lampsace, she died of a
sickness, and they buried her sumptuously, and called the city Lampsace
after her name. But when Mandron, avoiding all suspicion of betraying
his people, refused to come to dwell among them, and desired this favor
at their hands, that they would send him the wives and children of the
deceased, the Phocaeans most readily sent them, offering them no injury
at all. And ascribing in the first place heroic renown to Lampsace, in
the last place they decreed a sacrifice to her as a Goddess, which they
continue yearly to offer.


EXAMPLE 19. _Aretaphila._

Aretaphila, a Cyrenaean, was not of ancient time, but lived in
the time of the Mithridatic war. She arrived at such a degree of
fortitude and experience in counsel as might be compared with the
conduct of any heroic ladies. She was the daughter of Aeglator and
the wife of Phaedimus, both renowned men. She was a great beauty,
excelling in discretion, and was not unacquainted with the most knotty
pieces of policy; but the common disasters of her native country
rendered her famous. Nicocrates, having then usurped the tyranny
over the Cyrenaeans, not only murdered many other citizens, but also
assassinated Melanippus, a priest of Apollo, with his own hand, and
held the priesthood himself. He slew also Phaedimus, the husband of
Aretaphila, and married Aretaphila against her will. Unto a thousand
other villainies he added this, that he set guards at the gates, who
mangled the dead corpses as they were carrying forth, pricking them
with their daggers and clapping hot irons to them, lest any citizen
should be carried out privily under pretence of being a dead corpse.
Aretaphila’s own proper calamities were very grievous to her, although
the tyrant, for the love that he bare to her, suffered her to enjoy
a great part of his regal power; for his love had subdued him unto
her, and to her alone was he gentle and manageable, being very rude
and savage in his behavior to others. But that which troubled her
more than other things was to see her miserable country suffering
such horrid things in so base a manner; one citizen being slaughtered
after another, without any hopes of a vindictive justice from any.
The exiles also were altogether enfeebled, affrighted, and scattered
here and there. Aretaphila therefore supposed herself to be the only
hope remaining for the state; and emulating the famous and brave
enterprises of Thebe of Pherae, although she was destitute of the
faithful friends and helpers which circumstances afforded to Thebe,
she laid a plan to despatch her husband by poison. But in setting
herself about it, providing the materials, and trying many experiments
with poisons, the matter could not be hid, but was discovered; and
there being proof made of the attempt, Calbia, Nicocrates’s mother,
being naturally of a murdering implacable spirit, presently adjudged
Aretaphila to torments and then to death. But love abated the rage of
Nicocrates, and put him upon delay; and the vigorous manner in which
Aretaphila met the accusation and defended herself gave some plausible
ground for his hesitation. But when she was convicted by the clearest
proofs, and the preparation she had made for the poison was even in
sight, admitting no denial, she confessed that she provided poison,
but not deadly poison. But truly, O sir, she said, I am contending for
matters of great concern, no less indeed than the honor and power which
by thy gracious favor I reap the fruit of. I am maligned by many ill
women, whose poisons and treacheries I stand in fear of, and therefore
have been persuaded to contrive something on the other side in my own
defence. These are haply foolish and woman-like plots, but not such
as deserve death, unless it seem good to thee as judge to take away
thy wife’s life on account of love-potions and charms, which she has
used because she wishes to be loved by thee more than thou wouldst
have her. Notwithstanding this defence which Aretaphila had made for
herself, Nicocrates thought good to commit her to torments; and Calbia
presided in the judicature, rigid and inexorable. But Aretaphila bore
up invincibly under her tortures, till Calbia herself was tired, sore
against her will. But Nicocrates being pacified discharged her, and
was sorry he had tortured her. And it was not very long ere he went in
again unto her, being highly transported with affection, renewing his
favor towards her with honors and courteous behavior. But she would
not be brought under by flattery, who had held out so stoutly under
tortures and pains; and an emulation of victory, conjoined with the
love of honesty, made her betake herself to other measures.

She had a daughter marriageable, an excellent beauty. Her she
presented for a bait to the tyrant’s brother, a young stripling and
lasciviously addicted. There was a report, that Aretaphila used
such enchantments and witchcrafts towards the maid, that she plainly
charmed and destroyed the young man’s reason. He was called Leander.
After he was entangled, he petitioned his brother and accomplished the
marriage. Now the maid, being instructed by her mother, instigated
and persuaded him to set the city at liberty, insinuating that he
himself could not live long free under an arbitrary government, nor
could he marry a wife or reserve her to himself. Also some friends,
Aretaphila’s favorites, suggested to him continually some accusations
or surmises concerning his brother. But as soon as he perceived that
Aretaphila was counselling and aiding in these matters, he undertook
the business, and excited Daphnis a household servant, who slew
Nicocrates by his command. In what followed, he attended not so much
to Aretaphila, but presently manifested by his actions that he was
rather a fratricide than a tyrannicide; for he managed his affairs
perversely and foolishly. But yet he had some honor for Aretaphila,
and she had some influence with him; neither did she manage any enmity
or open opposition against him, but ordered her affairs privily. First
of all, she stirred up an African war against him, and incited Anabus,
a certain duke, to invade his borders and approach the city; and
then she buzzed into Leander’s head suspicions against the favorites
and officers, saying that they were not forward to fight but rather
ambitious of peace and tranquillity, which indeed (she said) the state
of affairs and the security of his dominion required of him if he
would hold his subjects in firm subjection; and she would effect a
cessation of arms and bring Anabus to a parley with him, if he would
permit it, before an incurable war should break forth. Leander gave
her commission. First she treated with the African, and with the
promise of great presents and treasures begged that he would seize
Leander when he came to treat with him. The African was persuaded,
but Leander was backward to it; only for the respect that he bore to
Aretaphila, who said that she would be present, he went unarmed and
unguarded. But as he came nigh and saw Anabus, he made a halt, and
would have waited the coming of his guards; only Aretaphila being
present sometimes encouraged him, sometimes reviled him. But at last,
when he still hesitates, she undauntedly lays hold on him, and dragging
him resolutely along, delivers him to the barbarian. He was immediately
seized, confined, and bound, and kept prisoner by the African, until
Aretaphila’s friends, with other citizens, procured the treasures
promised. Many people acquainted with this ran forth to the parley; and
as soon as they saw Aretaphila, they were so transported that they had
like to have forgot their indignation against the tyrant, and reckoned
the punishing him of no great concern. But the first work after the
enjoyment of their liberty was the saluting Aretaphila, between
acclamations of joy and weeping, and falling down before her, as before
the statue of one of the Gods. And the people flocked in one after
another, so that they scarcely had time that evening to receive Leander
again and return into the city. When they had satisfied themselves
in honoring and applauding Aretaphila, they turned themselves to the
tyrants; and Calbia they burnt alive, Leander they sewed up in a sack
and threw him into the sea, but they voted that Aretaphila should bear
her share in the government together with the statesmen, and be taken
into counsel. But she, by great sufferings having acted a tragi-comedy
consisting of various parts, and at last obtained the reward of the
garland, as soon as she saw the city set at liberty, betook herself to
her private apartment; and casting off all multiplicity of business,
she led the rest of her time in spinning, and finished her days in
tranquillity among her friends and acquaintance.


EXAMPLE 20. _Camma._

There were two most potent persons among the tetrarchs of Galatia,
allied by kin to each other, Sinatus and Synorix; one of which,
Sinatus, took a maid to wife, Camma by name, very comely to behold
for person and favor, but principally to be admired for virtue. For
she was not only modest and loving to her husband, but discreet
and of a generous mind. And by reason of her gentle and courteous
behavior she was extremely acceptable to her inferiors; yea, that
which rendered her more eminently renowned was, that being a priest
of Diana (for the Galatians worship that goddess most) she did always
appear magnificently adorned in all sacred processions and at the
sacrifices. Wherefore Synorix, falling in love with her, could not
prevail either by persuasions or violence, whilst her husband lived.
He commits a horrid crime,—he slays Sinatus treacherously,—and not
long after accosts Camma, whilst she abode within the temple, and bore
Synorix’s crime not in an abject and despondent manner, but with a
mind intent upon revenge on Synorix, and only waiting an opportunity.
He was importunate in his humble addresses, neither did he seem to
use arguments that were without all show of honesty. For as in other
things he pretended that he far excelled Sinatus, so he slew him for
the love he bare to Camma and for no other wicked design. The woman’s
denials were at first not very peremptory, and then by little and
little she seemed to be softened towards him. Her familiars and friends
also lay at her in the service and favor of Synorix, who was a man
of great power, persuading and even forcing her. In fine therefore
she consented, and accordingly sent for him to come to her, that the
mutual contract and covenant might be solemnized in the presence
of the Goddess. When he came, she received him with much courtesy,
and bringing him before the altar and pouring out some of the
drink-offering upon the altar out of the bowls, part of the remainder
she drank herself and part she gave him to drink. The cup was poisoned
mead. As she saw him drink it all up, she lifted up a shrill loud
voice, and fell down and worshipped her Goddess, saying: I call thee
to witness, O most reverend Divinity! that for this very day’s work’s
sake I have over-lived the murder of Sinatus, no otherwise taking any
comfort in this part of my life but in the hope of revenge that I
have had. And now I go down to my husband. And for thee, the lewdest
person among men, let thy relations prepare a sepulchre, instead of a
bride-chamber and nuptials. When the Galatian heard these things, and
perceived the poison to wamble up and down and indispose his body, he
ascended his chariot, hoping to be relieved by the jogging and shaking.
But he presently alighted, and put himself into a litter, and died that
evening. Camma continued all that night, and being told that he had
ended his life, she comfortably and cheerfully expired.


EXAMPLE 21. _Stratonica._

Galatia also produced Stratonica the wife of Deiotarus, and Chiomara
the wife of Ortiagon, both of them women worth remembrance. Stratonica
knowing that her husband wanted children of his own body to succeed in
his kingdom, she being barren persuaded him to beget a child on another
woman, and subject it to her tutelage. Deiotarus admiring her proposal,
committed all to her care upon that account. She provided a comely
virgin for him from among the captives, Electra by name, and brought
her to lie with Deiotarus. The children begotten of her she educated
very tenderly and magnificently, as if they had been her own.


EXAMPLE 22. _Chiomara._

It fell out that Chiomara, the wife of Ortiagon, was taken captive with
other women, in the time when the Romans under Cneus Manlius overcame
the Galatians of Asia in battle. The centurion that took her made
use of his fortune soldier-like and defiled her; for he was, as to
voluptuousness and covetousness, an ill-bred and insatiable man, over
whom avarice had gotten an absolute conquest. A great quantity of gold
being promised by the woman for her ransom, in order to her redemption
he brought her to a certain bank of a river. As the Galatians passed
over and paid him the money in gold, and received Chiomara into their
possession, she gave an intimation of her pleasure to one of them by
nod,—to smite the Roman while he was kissing and taking his leave of
her. He obeyed her commands and cut off his head. She takes it, wraps
it up in her apron, and carries it with her; and as she comes to her
husband, she casts down the head before him, at which being startled he
said, O wife! thy fidelity is noble. Yea, verily, replied she, it is a
nobler thing that there is now but one man alive that hath ever lain
with me. Polybius saith that he discoursed with this woman at Sardis,
and admired her prudence and discretion.


EXAMPLE 23. _Of the Woman of Pergamus._

When Mithridates sent for sixty noblemen of Galatia as friends, he
seemed to carry himself abusively and imperiously towards them, which
they were all mightily provoked at. Poredorix, a man of a robust
body and lofty mind, who was no less than tetrarch of the Tosiopae,
designed to lay hold on Mithridates, seizing him when he should be
determining causes on the bench of judicature in the gymnasium, and
to force him bench and all into the ditch; but by a certain chance
he went not up to the place of judicature that day, but sent for the
Galatians to come home to him to his house. Poredorix encouraged them
all to be of good courage, and when they should be all come together
there, to fall upon him on every side, slay him, and cut his body in
pieces. This conspiracy was not unknown to Mithridates, an intimation
of it being given him; accordingly he delivers up the Galatians one
by one to be slain. But calling to mind a young man among them, who
excelled in comeliness and beauty all whom he knew, he commiserated him
and repented himself and was apparently grieved, supposing him slain
among the first, and also sent his command, that if he were alive he
should remain so. The young man’s name was Bepolitanus. There was a
strange accident befell this man. When he was apprehended, he had on
very gay and rich apparel, which the executioner desired to preserve
clean from being stained with blood; and undressing the young man
leisurely, he saw the king’s messengers running to him and calling
out the name of the youth. So that covetousness, which is the ruin of
many, unexpectedly saved the life of Bepolitanus. But Poredorix being
slain was cast forth unburied, and none of his friends did dare to
come near him; only a certain woman of Pergamus, that was conversant
with him while he lived at Galatia, attempted to cover his corpse and
bury it. But when the guards perceived her, they laid hold on her and
brought her before the king. And it is reported that Mithridates was
much affected at the sight of her, the young maid seeming altogether
harmless, and the more so, as it seemed, because he knew that love was
the reason of her attempt. He gave her leave therefore to take away
the corpse and bury it, and to take grave-clothes and ornaments at his
cost.


EXAMPLE 24. _Timoclea._

Theagenes the Theban, who held the same sentiments with regard to
his country’s welfare with Epaminondas, Pelopidas, and the other
most worthy Thebans, was slain in Chaeronea, in the common disaster
of Greece, even then when he had conquered his enemies and was in
pursuit of them. For it was he that answered one who cried out aloud
to him, How far wilt thou pursue? Even (saith he) to Macedonia. When
he was dead, his sister survived him, who gave testimony that he was
nobly descended, and that he was naturally a great man and excellently
accomplished. Moreover, this woman was so fortunate as to reap a
great benefit by her prowess, so that the more public calamities
fell upon her, so much the easier she bore them. For when Alexander
took Thebes and the soldiers fell a plundering, some in one part and
some in another, it happened that a man, neither civil nor sober but
mischievous and mad, took up his quarters in Timoclea’s house. He was
a captain to a Thracian company, and the king’s namesake, but nothing
like him; for he having no regard either to the family or estate
of this woman, when he had swilled himself in wine after supper,
commanded her to come and lie with him. Neither ended he here, but
enquired for gold and silver, whether she had not some hid by her;
sometimes threatening as if he would kill her, sometimes flattering as
if he would always repute her in the place of a wife. She, taking the
occasion offered by him, said: “Would God I had died before this night
came, rather than lived to it; that though all other things had been
lost, I might have preserved my body free from abuse. But now seeing it
is thus come to pass, and Divine Providence hath thus disposed of it
that I must repute thee my guardian, lord, and husband, I will not hold
any thing from thee that is thine own. And as for myself, I see I am
at thy disposition. As for corporeal enjoyments, the world was mine, I
had silver bowls, I had gold, and some money; but when this city was
taken, I commanded my maids to pack it up altogether, and threw it,
or rather put it for security, into a well that had no water in it.
Neither do many know of it, for it hath a covering, and nature hath
provided a shady wood round about it. Take then these things, and much
good may they do thee; and they shall lie by thee, as certain tokens
and marks of the late flourishing fortune and splendor of our family.”

When the Macedonian heard these things, he stayed not for day, but
presently went to the place by Timoclea’s conduct, commanding the
garden-door to be shut, that none might perceive what they were about.
He descended in his morning vestment. But the revengeful Clotho brought
dreadful things upon him by the hand of Timoclea, who stood on the
top of the well; for as soon as she perceived by his voice that he
reached the bottom, she threw down abundance of stones upon him, and
her maids rolled in many and great ones, till they had dashed him to
pieces and buried him under them. As soon as the Macedonians came to
understand this and had taken up the corpse, there having been late
proclamation that none of the Thebans should be slain, they seized her
and carried her before the king and declared her audacious exploit;
but the king, who by the gravity of her countenance and stateliness
of her behavior did perceive in her something that savored of the
greatest worth and nobility, asked her first, What woman art thou? She
courageously and undauntedly answered: Theagenes was my brother, who
was a commander at Chaeronea, and lost his life fighting against you
in defence of the Grecian liberty, that we might not suffer any such
thing; and seeing I have suffered things unworthy of my rank, I refuse
not to die; for it is better so to do than to experience another such
a night as the last, which awaits me unless thou forbid it. All the
most tender-spirited persons that were present broke out into tears;
but Alexander was not for pitying her, as being a woman above pity. But
he admired her fortitude and eloquence, which had taken strong hold on
him, and charged his officers to have a special care and look to the
guards, lest any such abuse be offered again to any renowned family;
and dismissed Timoclea, charging them to have a special regard to her
and all that should be found to be of her family.


EXAMPLE 25. _Eryxo._

Arcesilaus was the son of Battus who was surnamed Felix, not at all
like to his father in his conversation. His father, when he lived, laid
a fine of a talent upon him for making fortifications about his house.
After his father’s death, he being of a rugged disposition (therefore
surnamed the Severe), and following the counsels of Laarchus, an ill
friend, became a tyrant instead of a king. For Laarchus affecting
the government for himself, either banished or slew the noblemen of
Cyrene, and charged the fault upon Arcesilaus; and at last casting
him into a wasting and grievous disease, by giving him the sea-hare
in his drink, he deprived him of his life. So that Laarchus assumed
the government, under pretence of being protector to Arcesilaus’s
young son Battus; but the youth, by reason either of his lameness or
youthful age, was contemned. As for his mother, many made addresses
to her, being a modest and courteous woman, and she had many of the
commons and nobility at her devotion. Therefore Laarchus, pretending
to be her humble servant, would needs marry her, and thereby take
Battus to the dignity of being son and then allow him a share in the
government. But Eryxo (for that was the woman’s name), taking counsel
of her brethren, bade Laarchus treat with them as if she had designed
marriage; Laarchus accordingly treating with Eryxo’s brethren, they
on purpose delay and prolong the business. Eryxo sends one of her
maid-servants acquainting him, that for the present her brethren did
oppose the match, but if they could but accomplish it so as to lie
together once, her brethren would cease arguing the matter any farther,
and would give their consent. He should therefore come to her by
night, if he pleased; an entrance being once made in a business, the
rest will succeed well enough. These things were mighty pleasing to
Laarchus, and he was much inflamed by the woman’s obliging carriage
towards him, and declared that he would come to whatever place she
should command him. These things Eryxo transacted with the privity
of Polyarchus, her eldest brother. A time being now appointed for
the congress, Polyarchus placed himself in his sister’s bed-chamber,
together with two young men that were sword-men, all out of sight, to
revenge the death of his father, whom Laarchus had lately murdered.
Eryxo sending at the time to acquaint him, he entered without his
guard, and the young men falling upon him, he was wounded with the
sword and died; the corpse immediately they threw over the wall. Battus
they brought forth and proclaimed king over his father’s dominions, and
Polyarchus restored to the Cyrenaeans their ancient constitution of
government. There were present at that time many soldiers of Amasis,
the Egyptian king; whom Laarchus had employed and found faithful, and
by whose means he had been not a little formidable to the citizens.
These sent messengers to accuse Polyarchus and Eryxo to Amasis. At
this the king was greatly incensed, and determined to make war upon
the Cyrenaeans. But it happened that his mother died, and while he
was solemnizing her funeral, ambassadors came and brought the news of
his intentions to Cyrene. Wherefore it was thought best by Polyarchus
to go and apologize for himself. Eryxo would not desert him, but was
resolved to accompany him and run the same hazard with him. Nor would
his mother Critola leave him, though she was an old woman; for great
was her dignity, she being the sister of old Battus, surnamed Felix.
As soon as they came into Egypt, as others with admiration approved
of the exploit, so even Amasis himself did not a little applaud the
chastity and fortitude of Eryxo, honoring her with presents and royal
attendance, with which he sent back Polyarchus and the ladies into
Cyrene.


EXAMPLE 26. _Xenocrita._

Xenocrita of Cumae deserves no less to be admired for her exploits
against Aristodemus the tyrant, whom some have supposed to be surnamed
the Effeminate, being ignorant of the true story. He was called by the
barbarians Malakos (that is soft and effeminate) with regard merely to
his youth; because, when he was a mere stripling, with other companions
of the same age who wore long hair (whence they were called Coronistae,
as it seems from their long hair), he became famous in the war against
the barbarians. He was also not only renowned for resolution and
activity, but very exceedingly remarkable for his discretion and
providence; insomuch that being admired by the citizens he proceeded
to the highest dominion among them. He was to bring aid to the Romans
when they were in war with the Etrurians, who engaged to restore
Tarquinius Superbus to his kingdom; in all which expedition, that was
very long, he managed all affairs so as to ingratiate himself with the
military part of the citizens, aiming more at the making himself head
of a popular faction than general of the army. He accordingly prevails
with them to join with him in attacking the senate, and in casting out
the citizens of highest rank and most potent into exile. Afterwards
becoming tyrant, he was flagitious in his carriage towards women and
free-born youth, and exceeded even himself in vileness. For history
reports of him how that he accustomed the boys to wear their hair
long and set with golden ornaments, and the girls he compelled to be
polled round, and to wear youths’ jerkins and short-tailed petticoats.
Notwithstanding, he had a peculiar affection for Xenocrita, a girl of
Cumae, left behind by her exiled father. Her he kept, but could not
bring over to his humor by any insinuations or persuasions, neither had
he gained her father’s consent; however, he reckoned the maid would be
brought to love him by constant conversation with him, since she would
be envied and reputed very happy by the citizens. But these things did
not at all besot the maid; but she took it heinously that she must be
constrained to dwell with him, not espoused or married. Neither did she
less long for the liberty of her native country than did those who were
hated by the tyrant.

It happened about that time that Aristodemus was casting up an
entrenchment about the borders of Cumae, a work neither necessary nor
profitable, only because he was resolved to tire out the citizens with
hard toil and labor; for every one was required to carry out a stinted
number of baskets of earth daily, in order to the delving this ditch.
A certain maid, as she saw Aristodemus approaching, ran aside and
covered her face with her apron; but when Aristodemus was withdrawn,
the young men would sport and jest with her, asking her whether out
of modesty she avoided only the sight of Aristodemus and was not so
affected towards other men. She made answer designedly, rather than
otherwise, that of the Cumaeans Aristodemus was the only man. This
sentence thus spoken verily touched them all very near, for it provoked
the generous-minded men among them for very shame to the recovering
of their liberties. And it is said that Xenocrita was heard to say,
that she had rather carry earth for her father, if he were at home,
than participate in the great luxury and pomp of Aristodemus. These
things added courage to them that were about to make an insurrection
against Aristodemus, which Thymoteles had the chief management of;
for Xenocrita providing them safe admittance, they easily rushed in
upon Aristodemus, unarmed and unguarded, and slew him. In this manner
the city of Cumae gained its liberty, by the virtue of two women; one
by suggesting and invigorating the enterprise, the other by bringing
it to an issue. When honors and great presents were tendered to
Xenocrita, she refused all; but requested one thing, that she might
bury the corpse of Aristodemus. This they delivered her, and made her a
priestess of Ceres; reckoning that, as it was a deserved honor bestowed
on her, so she would be no less acceptable to the Goddess.


EXAMPLE 27. _The Wife of Pythes._

It is reported that the wife of Pythes, who lived at the time of
Xerxes, was a wise and courteous woman. Pythes, as it seems, finding
by chance some gold mines, and falling vastly in love with the riches
got out of them, was insatiably and beyond measure exercised about
them; and he brought down likewise the citizens, all of whom alike he
compelled to dig or carry or refine the gold, doing nothing else; many
of them dying in the work, and all being quite worn out. Their wives
laid down their petition at his gate, addressing themselves to the wife
of Pythes. She bade them all depart and be of good cheer; but those
goldsmiths which she confided most in she required to wait upon her,
and confining them commanded them to make up golden loaves, all sorts
of junkets and summer-fruits, all sorts of fish and flesh meats, in
which she knew Pythes was most delighted. All things being provided,
Pythes coming home then (for he happened to go a long journey) and
asking for his supper, his wife set a golden table before him, having
no edible food upon it, but all golden. Pythes admired the workmanship
for its imitation of nature. When, however, he had sufficiently fed his
eyes, he called in earnest for something to eat; but his wife, when he
asked for any sort, brought it of gold. Whereupon being provoked, he
cried out, I am an hungered. She replied: Thou hast made none other
provisions for us; every skilful science and art being laid aside, no
man works in husbandry; but neglecting sowing, planting, and tilling
the ground, we delve and search for useless things, killing ourselves
and our subjects. These things moved Pythes, but not so as to give
over all his works about the mine; for he now commanded a fifth part
of the citizens to that work, the rest he converted to husbandry and
manufactures. But when Xerxes made an expedition into Greece, Pythes,
being most splendid in his entertainments and presents, requested a
gracious favor of the king, that since he had many sons, one might be
spared from the camp to remain with him, to cherish his old age. At
which Xerxes in a rage slew this son only which he desired, and cut him
in two pieces, and commanded the army to march between the two parts
of the corpse. The rest he took along with him, and all of them were
slain in the wars. At which Pythes fell into a despairing condition, so
that he fell under the like suffering with many wicked men and fools.
He dreaded death, but was weary of his life; yea, he was willing not to
live, but could not cast away his life. He had this project. There was
a great mound of earth in the city, and a river running by it, which
they called Pythopolites. In that mound he prepared him a sepulchre,
and diverted the stream so as to run just by the side of the mound, the
river lightly washing the sepulchre. These things being finished, he
enters into the sepulchre, committing the city and all the government
thereof to his wife; commanding her not to come to him, but to send
his supper daily laid on a sloop, till the sloop should pass by the
sepulchre with the supper untouched; and then she should cease to send,
as supposing him dead. He verily passed in this manner the rest of his
life; but his wife took admirable care of the government, and brought
in a reformation of all things amiss among the people.




LACONIC APOPHTHEGMS; OR REMARKABLE SAYINGS OF THE SPARTANS.


_Of Agasicles._

Agasicles the Spartan king, when one wondered why, since he was a great
lover of instruction, he would not admit Philophanes the Sophist,
freely said, I ought to be their scholar whose son I am. And to one
enquiring how a governor should be secure without guards, he replied,
If he rules his subjects as fathers do their sons.


_Of Agesilaus the Great._

Agesilaus the Great, being once chosen steward of a feast, and asked by
the butler how much wine he allowed every guest, returned: If you have
a great deal provided, as much as every one calls for; if but a little,
give them all an equal share. When he saw a malefactor resolutely
endure his torments, How great a rascal is this fellow, he cried out,
that uses patience, bravery, and courage, in such an impious and
dishonest case! To one commending an orator for his skill in amplifying
petty matters he said, I don’t think that shoemaker a good workman
that makes a great shoe for a little foot. When one in discourse said
to him, Sir, you have assented to such a thing already, and repeated
it very often, he replied, Yes, if it is right; but if not, I said so
indeed but never assented. And the other rejoining, But, sir, a king is
obliged to perform whatever he hath granted by his nod;[177] No more,
he returned, than those that petition him are bound to make none but
good and just requests, and to consider all circumstances of time and
what befits a king. When he heard any praise or censure, he thought it
as necessary to enquire into the character of those that spake as of
those of whom they spake. While he was a boy, at a certain solemnity
of naked dancing, the person that ordered that affair put him in a
dishonorable place; and he, though already declared king, endured it,
saying, I’ll show that it is not the places that grace men, but men
the places. To a physician prescribing him a nice and tedious course
of physic, he said, By Castor and Pollux, unless I am destined to live
at any rate, I surely shall not if I take all this. Whilst he stood by
the altar of Minerva Chalcioecus sacrificing an ox, a louse bit him.
At this he never blushed, but cracked him before the whole company,
adding these words, By all the Gods, it is pleasant to kill a plotter
at the very altar. Another time seeing a boy pull a mouse by the tail
out of his hole, and the mouse turn and bite the boy’s fingers and so
escape; he bade his companions take notice of it, saying, If so little
a creature will oppose injurious violence, what think ye that men ought
to do?

Being eager for war against the Persians to free the Asiatic Greeks,
he consulted the oracle of Jupiter at Dodona; and that telling him to
go on as he designed, he brought the answer to the Ephors, upon which
they ordered him to go to Delphi and put the same question. He went,
and put it in this form: Apollo, are you of the same mind with your
father? And the oracle agreeing, he was chosen general and the war
began. Now Tissaphernes, at first being afraid of Agesilaus, came to
articles, and agreed that the Greek cities should be free and left to
their own laws; but afterward procuring a great army from the king, he
declared war against him unless he should presently leave Asia. Glad
of this treachery of Tissaphernes, he marched as if his design was
to make an inroad upon Caria; but when Tissaphernes had brought his
troops thither, he turned upon Phrygia, and took a great many cities
and abundance of rich spoil, saying to his friend: To break one’s
promise is indeed impious; but to outwit an enemy is not only just and
glorious, but profitable and sweet. Being inferior to the enemy in
horse, he retreated to Ephesus, and ordered all the wealthy to provide
each a man and horse, which should excuse them from personal service
in his wars. By which means, in the room of rich cowards, he was soon
furnished with stout men and able horses; and this he said he did in
imitation of Agamemnon, who agreed for a serviceable mare to discharge
a wealthy coward. When he ordered the captives to be sold naked and the
chapmen came, a thousand bid money for the clothes, but all derided
the bodies of the men, which were tender and white by reason of their
delicate breeding, as useless and worth nothing. He said to his
soldiers, Look, those are the things for which ye fight, and these are
the things with whom ye fight. Having beaten Tissaphernes in Lydia and
killed many of his men, he wasted the territories of the king; and the
king sending money and desiring a peace, Agesilaus replied: To grant
peace is in the power only of the commonwealth. I delight to enrich my
soldiers rather than myself, and think it agreeable to the honor of the
Greeks not to receive gifts from their enemies but to take spoils.

Megabates the son of Spithridates, a very pretty boy, who thought
himself very well beloved, coming to him to offer a kiss and an
embrace, he turned away his head. But when the boy had not appeared a
long time, Agesilaus enquired after him; and his friends replied, that
it was his own fault, since he derided the kiss of the pretty boy, and
the youth was afraid to come again. Agesilaus, standing silent and
musing a pretty while, said: Well, I will use no persuasions, for
methinks I had rather conquer such desires than take the most popular
city of my enemies; for it is better to preserve our own than rob
others of their liberty. In all things else he was very exact, and a
strict observer of the law; but in his friends’ concerns he thought
that to be too scrupulous was a bare pretence to cloak unwillingness to
use his interest. And agreeable to this, there is extant a small note
of his, interceding for a friend to one Idrieus a Carian: If Nicias is
not guilty, discharge him; if he is, discharge him for my sake; but by
all means pray let him be discharged. This was his usual humor in his
friends’ concerns, yet sometimes profit and convenience was preferred;
for once breaking up his camp in disorder, and leaving one that he
loved behind him sick, when he begged and beseeched him with tears to
have compassion, he turned and said, How hard it is to be pitiful and
wise at once! His diet was the same with that of his attendants; he
never fed to satisfy, nor drank himself drunk; he used sleep not as a
master, but as a servant to his affairs; and was so fitted to endure
heat or cold, that he alone was undisturbed at the change of seasons.
He lodged amongst his soldiers, and his bed was as mean as any; and
this he had always in his mouth: It befits a governor to excel private
men not in delicacy and softness, but in bravery and courage. And
therefore when one asked him what good Lycurgus’s laws had brought to
Sparta, he replied, Contempt of pleasure. And to one that wondered at
his and the other Lacedaemonians’ mean fare and poor attire, he said,
From this course of life, sir, we reap liberty. And to one advising
him to indulge more, saying, Chance is uncertain, and you may never
have the opportunity again, he replied, I accustom myself so that, let
whatever change happen, I shall need no change. When he was grown old,
he continued the same course; and to one asking him why at his age in
very cold weather he would not wear a coat, he replied, that the youth
may imitate, having the old men and governors for example.

The Thasians, when he marched through their country, presented him with
corn, geese, sweetmeats, honey-cakes, and all sorts of delicacies,
both of meat and drink; he accepted the corn, but commanded them to
carry back the rest, as useless and unprofitable to him. But they
importunately pressing him to take all, he ordered them to be given
to the Helots; and when some asked the reason, he replied, They that
profess bravery ought not to meddle with such delicacies; and whatever
takes with slaves cannot be agreeable to the free. Another time the
Thasians, after considerable benefits received, made him a God and
dedicated temples to his honor, and sent an embassy to compliment him
on that occasion. When he had read over the honors the ambassadors had
brought him, Well, said he, and can your country make men Gods? And
they affirming, Go to, he rejoined, make yourselves all Gods first;
and when that is done, I’ll believe you can make me one. The Greeks
in Asia decreeing him statues, he wrote thus to them: Let there be no
representation of me, either painted, founded, or engraved. In Asia,
seeing a house roofed with square beams, he asked the master whether
trees in their country were grown square. And he replying, No, but
round; What then, said he, if they grew square, would you make them
round? Being asked how far Sparta’s bounds extended, shaking a spear he
replied, As far as this will reach. And to another enquiring why Sparta
was without walls, he showed the citizens in arms, saying, Look, these
are the walls of Sparta. And to another that put the same question he
replied, Cities should be walled not with stones and timber, but with
the courage of the inhabitants; and his friends he advised to strive to
be rich not in money, but in bravery and virtue. When he would have his
soldiers do any thing quickly, he before them all put the first hand
to it; he was proud that he wrought as much as any, and valued himself
more upon ruling his own desires than upon being king. When one saw a
lame Spartan marching to the war, and endeavored to procure a horse for
him, How, said he, don’t you know that war needs those that will stay,
not those that will fly? Being asked how he got this great reputation,
he replied, By contemning death. And another time, one enquiring why
the Spartans used pipes and music when they fought, he said, When all
move in measure, it may be known who is brave and who a coward. When he
heard one magnifying the king of Persia’s happiness, who was but young,
Yes, said he, Priam himself was not unhappy at that age.

When he had conquered a great part of Asia, he designed to march
against the King himself, to break his quiet and hinder him from
corrupting the popular men amongst the Greeks; but being recalled by
the Ephors to oppose the designs which the other Greek states, bought
with the King’s gold, were forming against Sparta, he said, A good
ruler should be governed by the laws,—and sailed away from Asia,
leaving the Greeks there extremely sorry at his departure. And because
the stamp of the Persian money was an archer, he said, when he broke
up his camp, that he was driven out of Asia by thirty thousand of the
King’s archers. For so many pieces of gold being carried to Thebes and
Athens by Timocrates, and distributed amongst the popular men, the
people were excited to war upon the Spartans. And this epistle he sent
to the Ephors:—


  AGESILAUS _to the_ EPHORS, _Greeting._

  We have subdued a great part of Asia, driven out the barbarians,
  and furnished Ionia with arms. But since you command me back, I
  follow, nay almost come before this epistle; for I am not governor
  for myself, but for the commonwealth. And then a king truly rules
  according to justice, when he is governed by the laws, the Ephors, or
  others that are in authority in the commonwealth.

Passing the Hellespont, he marched through Thrace, but made no
applications to any of the barbarians, only sending to know whether he
marched through the country of an enemy or a friend. All the others
received him as friends and guided him in his march; only the Troadians
(of whom, as story says, even Xerxes bought his passage) demanded
of Agesilaus a hundred talents of silver and as many women. But he
scoffingly replied, Why then do not you come presently to receive
what you demand? And leading on his army, he fought them; and having
destroyed a considerable number, he marched through. To the king of
Macedon he sent the same question; and he replying that he would
consider of it. Let him consider, saith he, and we will be marching
on. Upon which the king, surprised at his daring temper and afraid of
his force, admitted him as a friend. The Thessalians having assisted
his enemies, he wasted their country, and sent Xenocles and Scythes to
Larissa in order to make a treaty. These being seized and detained,
all others stomached it extremely, and were of opinion that Agesilaus
should besiege and storm Larissa. But he replying that he would not
give either of their lives for all Thessaly, he had them delivered
upon articles. Hearing of a battle fought near Corinth, in which very
few of the Spartans, but many of the Corinthians, Athenians, and their
allies were slain, he did not appear joyful, or puffed up with his
victory, but fetching a deep sigh cried out, Unhappy Greece, that hath
destroyed herself men enough to have conquered all the barbarians! The
Pharsalians pressing upon him and distressing his forces with five
hundred horse, he charged them, and after the rout raised a trophy at
the foot of Narthacium. And this victory pleased him more than all the
others he had won, because with his single cavalry he had beaten those
that vaunted themselves as the best horsemen in the world. Diphridas
bringing him commands immediately upon his march to make an inroad into
Boeotia,—though he designed the same thing in a short time, when he
should be better prepared,—he obeyed, and sending for twenty thousand
men from the camp at Corinth, marched into Boeotia; and at Coronea
joining battle with the Thebans, Athenians, Argives, Corinthians, and
Locrians altogether, he won, though desperately wounded himself, the
greatest battle (as Xenophon affirms) that was fought in his age. And
yet when he returned, after so much glory and so many victories, he
made no alteration in his course of life.

When he saw some of the citizens think themselves brave fellows for
breeding horses for the race, he persuaded his sister Cunisca to
get into a chariot and put in for the prize at the Olympian games,
intending by that way to convince the Greeks that it was no argument
of bravery, but of wealth and profuse expense. Having Xenophon the
philosopher at his house, and treating him with great consideration, he
urged him to send for his children and have them brought up in Sparta,
where they might learn the most excellent of arts, how to govern and
how to be governed. And at another time being asked by what means the
Lacedaemonians flourished above others, Because, says he, they are
more studious than others how to rule and how to obey. When Lysander
was dead, he found a strong faction, which Lysander upon his return
from Asia had associated against him, and was very eager to show the
people what manner of citizen Lysander was whilst he lived. And finding
among Lysander’s papers an oration composed by Cleon of Halicarnassus,
about new designs and changing the government, which Lysander was
to speak to the people, he resolved to publish it. But when an old
politician, perusing the discourse and fearing its effect upon the
people, advised him not to dig up Lysander but rather bury the speech
with him, he followed the advice, and made no more of it. Those of the
contrary faction he did not openly molest, but by cunning contrivance
he got some of them into office, and then showed them to be rascals
when in power. And then defending them or getting their pardon when
accused, he brought them over to his own side, so that he had no enemy
at last. To one desiring him to write to his acquaintance in Asia, that
he might have justice done him, he replied, My acquaintance will do
thee justice, though I do not write. One showed him the wall of a city
strongly built and well fortified, and asked him whether he did not
think it a fine thing. Yes, by heaven, he replied, for women, but not
for men to live in. To a Megarian talking great things of his city he
said, Youth, thy words want an army.

What he saw others admire he seemed not so much as to know; and when
Callipides, a man famous among the Greeks for acting tragedies and
caressed by all, met him and saluted him, and then impudently intruding
amongst his companions showed himself, supposing that Agesilaus
would take notice of him and begin some familiar discourse, and at
last asked, Doth not your majesty know me? Have not you heard who I
am?—he looked upon him and said, Art not thou Callipides, the Merry
Andrew?[178] (For that is the name the Lacedaemonians give an actor.)
Being once desired to hear a man imitate a nightingale, he refused,
saying, I have often heard the bird itself. Menecrates the physician,
for his good success in some desperate diseases, was called Jupiter;
and priding himself in the name, he presumed to write to Agesilaus
thus: Menecrates Jupiter to King Agesilaus wisheth good health.
Reading no more, he presently wrote back: King Agesilaus to Menecrates
wisheth a sound mind.

When Conon and Pharnabazus with the king’s navy were masters of
the sea and wasted the coasts of Laconia, and Athens—Pharnabazus
defraying the charges—was surrounded with a wall, the Lacedaemonians
made a peace with the Persian; and sending Antalcidas, one of their
citizens, to Tiribazus, they agreed to deliver into the King’s hands
all the Asiatic Greeks, for whose freedom Agesilaus fought. Upon
which account Agesilaus was not at all blemished by this dishonorable
treaty; for Antalcidas was his enemy, and clapped up a peace on purpose
because the war raised Agesilaus and got him glory. When one said,
The Lacedaemonians are becoming medized, he replied, Rather the Medes
are becoming laconized. And being asked which was the better virtue,
courage or justice, he said: Courage would be good for nothing, if
there were no justice; and if all men were just, there would be no
need of courage. The Asians being wont to style the king of Persia The
Great; How, said he, is he greater than I am, if he is not more just
or temperate? And he used to say, The Greeks in Asia are mean-spirited
freemen, but stout slaves. And being asked how one might get the
greatest reputation amongst men, he replied, By speaking the best
and doing the bravest things. And he had this saying commonly in his
mouth, A commander should be daring against his enemy, and kind and
good-natured to his own soldiers. When one asked him what boys should
learn; That, said he, which they shall use when men. When he sat judge
upon a cause, the accuser spake floridly and well; but the defendant
meanly and ever now and then repeated these words, Agesilaus, a king
should assist the laws. What, said he, dost thou think, if any one dug
down thy house or took away thy coat, a mason or a weaver would assist
thee?

A letter being brought him from the king of Persia by a Persian
that came with Callias the Spartan, after the peace was concluded,
offering him friendship and kind entertainment, he would not receive
it, bidding the messenger tell the king that there was no need to
send private letters to him; for if he was a friend to Sparta and
meant well to Greece, he would do his best to be his friend; but if he
designed upon their liberty, he might know that, though he received
a thousand letters from him, he would be his enemy. He was very fond
of his children; and it is reported that once toying with them he got
astride upon a reed as upon a horse, and rode about the room; and being
seen by one of his friends, he desired him not to speak of it till he
had children of his own. When he had fought often with the Thebans
and was wounded in the battle, Antalcidas, as it is reported, said to
him: Indeed, sir, you have received a very fair reward for instructing
the Thebans, whom, when ignorant and unwilling, you have forced to
learn the art of war. For story tells us, the Lacedaemonians at that
time by frequent skirmishes had made the Thebans better soldiers than
themselves. And therefore Lycurgus, the old lawgiver, forbade them to
fight often with the same nation, lest the enemy should learn their
discipline. When he understood that the allies took it very ill, that
in their frequent expeditions they, being great in number, followed
the Spartans that were but few; designing to show their mistake about
the number, he ordered all the allies to sit down in one body and the
Lacedaemonians in another by themselves. Then he made proclamation
that all the potters should rise first; and when they stood up, the
braziers next; then the carpenters, next the masons, and so all other
traders in order. Now almost all the allies stood up and not one of the
Spartans, for their law forbids them all mechanical employments. Then
said Agesilaus, with a smile, See now how many soldiers we provide more
than you. When at the battle of Leuctra many of the Spartans fled and
upon that account were obnoxious to the laws, the Ephors, seeing the
city had but few men and stood in great need of soldiers at that time,
would free them from the infamy and yet still keep the laws in force.
Upon that account they put the power of making laws into the hands of
Agesilaus; and he coming into the assembly said, I will make no new
laws, nor will I add any thing to those you already have, nor take
therefrom, nor change them in any wise; but I will order that the laws
you already have be in force from to-morrow.

Epaminondas rushing on with a torrent and tide of force, and the
Thebans and their allies being puffed up with this victory, though he
had but an inconsiderable number, Agesilaus repulsed them from the city
and forced them to retreat. In the battle at Mantinea, he advised the
Spartans to neglect the others and fight Epaminondas only, saying: The
wise alone is the stout man, and the cause of victory; and therefore
if we take him off, we shall quickly have the rest; for they are fools
and worth nothing. And it happened accordingly; for Epaminondas having
the better of the day and the Spartans being routed, as he turned about
and encouraged his soldiers to pursue, a Lacedaemonian gave him his
death-wound. He falling, the Spartans that fled with Agesilaus rallied
and turned the victory; the Thebans appearing to have much the worse,
and the Spartans the better of the day. When Sparta had a great many
hired soldiers in pay, and wanted money to carry on the war, Agesilaus,
upon the king of Egypt’s desire, went to serve him for money. But the
meanness of his habit brought him into contempt with the people of
that country; for they, according to their bad notions of princes,
expected that the king of Sparta should appear like the Persian,
gaudily attired. But in a little time he sufficiently convinced them
that majesty and glory were to be gotten by prudence and courage. When
he found his men discouraged at the number of the enemy (for they were
200,000) and their own fewness, just before the engagement, without any
man’s privity, he contrived how to encourage them: in the hollow of his
left hand he wrote VICTORY, and taking the liver from the priest, he
put it into that hand, and held it a pretty while, pretending he was
in doubt and perplexity at some appearance, till the characters were
imprinted on the flesh; and then he showed it to the soldiers, telling
them the Gods gave certain signs of victory by these characters. Upon
which, thinking they had sure evidence of good success, they marched
resolutely to the battle. When the enemy much exceeded them in number
and were making an entrenchment round his camp, and Nectabius, whom
then he assisted, urged him to fight; I would not, said he, hinder our
enemies from making their number as small as ours. And when the trench
was almost drawn round, ordering his army to the space between, and so
fighting upon equal terms, with those few soldiers he had he routed and
killed abundance of the enemy, and sent home a great treasure. Dying
on his voyage from Egypt, he commanded his attendants not to make any
figure or representation of his body; For, said he, if I have done any
brave action, that will preserve my memory; if not, neither will a
thousand statues, the works of base mechanics.


_Of Agesipolis the Son of Cleombrotus._

Agesipolis the son of Cleombrotus, when one told him that Philip had
razed Olynthus in a few days, said, Well, but he is not able to build
such another in twice that time. To one saying that whilst he was king
he himself was an hostage with some other youths, and not their wives
or children, he replied, Very good, for it is fit we ourselves should
suffer for our own faults. When he designed to send for some whelps
from home, and one said, Sir, none must be carried out of the country,
he replied, Nor men heretofore, but now they may.


_Of Agesipolis the Son of Pausanias._

Agesipolis the son of Pausanias, when the Athenians appealed to the
Megarians as arbitrators of the differences between them, said, It is
a shame, Athenians, that those who were once the lords of all Greece
should understand what is right and just less than the people of Megara.


_Of Agis the Son of Archidamus._

Agis the son of Archidamus, when the Ephors gave orders, Go take the
youth, and follow this man into his own country, and he shall guide
thee to the very citadel, said: How can it be prudent to trust so
many youths to the fidelity of him who betrays his own country? Being
asked what art was chiefly learned in Sparta, To know, he replied,
how to govern and to be governed. He used to say, The Spartans do
not enquire how many the enemy are, but where they are. At Mantinea,
being advised not to fight the enemy, who exceeded him in number, he
said, It is necessary for him to fight a great many that would rule
a great many. To one enquiring how many the Spartans were, Enough,
he replied, to keep rascals at a distance. Marching by the walls of
Corinth, and perceiving them to be high and strong and stretching out
to a great length, he said, What women live there? To an orator that
said speech was the best thing, he rejoined, You then, when you are
silent, are worth nothing. When the Argives, after they had been once
beaten, faced him more boldly than before; on seeing many of the allies
disheartened, he said, Courage, sirs! for when we conquerors shake,
what do you think is the condition of the conquered? To an ambassador
from the Abderites, after he had ended his long speech, enquiring what
answer he should carry to his city, he replied, This: As long as you
talked, so long I quietly heard. Some commending the Eleans for exact
justice in determining the prizes at the Olympian games, he said,
What great wonder is it, that in four years they can be just one day?
To some that told him he was envied by the heirs of the other royal
family, Well, said he, their own misfortunes will torment them, and my
own and my friends’ success besides. When one advised him to give the
flying enemy room to run, he said, How shall we fight those that stand
to it and resist, if we dare not engage those whom their cowardice
makes fly? When one proposed a way to free Greece, well contrived
indeed but hard to be brought about, he said, Friend, thy words want
an army and a treasure. To one saying, Philip won’t let you set foot
upon any other part of Greece, he returned, Sir, we have room enough
in our own country. An ambassador from Perinthus to Lacedaemon, after
a long tedious speech, asking what answer he should carry back to the
Perinthians, he said, What but this?—that thou couldst hardly find
an end to thy talk, and I kept silent. He went by himself ambassador
to Philip; and Philip saying, What! but one? he replied, I am an
ambassador but to one. An old man, observing that the ancient laws
were neglected and that new evil customs crept in, said to him, when
he was now grown old himself, All things here at Sparta are turned
topsy-turvy. He replied with a joke: If it is so, it is agreeable to
reason; for when I was a boy, I heard my father say that all things
were then topsy-turvy; and he heard his father say the same; and it is
no wonder if succeeding times are worse than the preceding; but it is
a wonder if they happen to be better, or but just as good. Being asked
how a man could be always free, he replied, If he contemns death.


_Of Agis the Younger._

Agis the Younger, when Demades said, The Spartans’ swords are so short
that our jugglers can easily swallow them, replied, Yet the Spartans
can reach their enemies with these swords. A base fellow often asking
who was the bravest of the Spartans, he said, He that is most unlike
thee.


_Of Agis the Last._

Agis, the last king of Lacedaemon, being taken and condemned by the
Ephors without hearing, as he was led to the gallows, saw one of the
officers weeping. Do not weep for me, he said, who, being so unjustly,
so barbarously condemned, am in a better condition than my murderers.
And having spoken thus, he quietly submitted himself to the halter.


_Of Acrotatus._

Acrotatus, when his parents commanded him to join in some unjust
action, refused for some time; but when they grew importunate, he said:
When I was under your power I had no notion of justice, but now you
have delivered me to my country and her laws, and to the best of your
power have taught me loyalty and justice, I shall endeavor to follow
these rather than you. And since you would have me to do that which is
best, and since just actions are best for a private man and much more
for a governor, I shall do what you would have me, and refuse what you
command.


_Of Alcamenes the Son of Teleclus._

Alcamenes the son of Teleclus, being asked how a ruler might best
secure his government, replied, By slighting gain. And to another
enquiring why he refused the presents the Messenians made him he said,
Because, if I had taken them, I and the laws could never have agreed.
When one said that though he had wealth enough he lived but meanly, he
replied, Well, it is a glory for one that hath abundance to live as
reason not as appetite directs.


_Of Alexandridas._

Alexandridas, the son of Leo, said to one that was much concerned at
his banishment from the city, Good sir, be not concerned that you must
leave the city, but that you have left justice. To one that talked to
the Ephors very pertinently but a great deal too much he said, Sir,
your discourse is very good, but ill-timed. And when one asked him why
they let their Helot slaves cultivate the fields, and did not take
care of them themselves, he replied, Because we acquired our land not
caring for it but for ourselves. Another saying, Desire of reputation
causes abundance of mischief, and those are happy that are free from
it; Then, he subjoined, it follows that villains are happy; for do you
think that he that commits sacrilege or doth an injury takes any care
for credit and reputation? Another asking why in a battle the Spartans
venture so boldly into danger, Because, said he, we train ourselves
to have a reverential regard for our lives, not, as others do, to
tremble for them. Another demanding why the judges took so many days
to pass sentence in a capital cause, and why he that was acquitted
still remained liable to be brought to trial, he replied: They consult
so long, because if they make a mistake in judgment and condemn a man
to death, they cannot correct their judgment; and the accused still
remains liable, because this provision might enable them to give even a
better judgment than before.


_Of Anaxander the Son of Eurycrates._

Anaxander, the son of Eurycrates, to one asking him why the Spartans
laid up no money in the exchequer, replied, that the keepers of it
might not be tempted to be knaves.


_Of Anaxilas._

Anaxilas, when one wondered for what reason the Ephors did not rise up
to the king, since the kings made them, said, It is for the same reason
for which they are appointed Ephors (or overseers).


_Of Androclidas._

Androclidas a Spartan, being maimed in his leg, enlisted in the army;
and when some refused him because he was maimed, he said, It must not
be those that can run away, but those that can stand to it, that must
fight the enemy.


_Of Antalcidas._

Antalcidas, when he was to be initiated in the Samothracian mysteries,
and was asked by the priest what great sin he had committed in all
his life, replied, If I have committed any, the Gods know it already.
To an Athenian that called the Lacedaemonians illiterate he said,
True; for we alone have learned no ill from you. Another Athenian
saying, We have often beat you back from the Cephissus, he subjoined,
But we never repulsed you from the Eurotas. To another demanding how
one might please most men, he replied, By speaking what delights,
and doing what profits them. A Sophist being about to read him an
encomium of Hercules, he said, Why, who has blamed him? To Agesilaus,
when he was wounded in a battle by the Thebans, he said, Sir, you
have a fine reward for forcing them to learn the art of war; for, by
the many skirmishes Agesilaus had with them, they learned discipline
and became good soldiers. He said, The youth are the walls of Sparta,
and the points of their spears its bounds. To one enquiring why the
Lacedaemonians fought with such short swords, he replied, We come up
close to our enemies.


_Of Antiochus._

Antiochus, one of the Ephors, when he heard Philip had bestowed some
lands on the Messenians, said, Well, but hath Philip also given them
forces, that they may be able to defend his gift?


_Of Aregeus._

Aregeus, when some praised not their own but other men’s wives, said:
Faith, about virtuous women there should be no common talk; and what
beauty they have none but their own husbands should understand. As he
was walking through Selinus, a city of Sicily, he saw this epitaph upon
a tomb,—

    Those that extinguished the tyrannic flame,
    Surprised by war and hasty fate,
    Though they are still alive in lasting fame,
    Lie buried near Selinus’ gate;—

and said: You died deservedly for quenching it when already in a flame;
for you should have hindered it from coming to a blaze.


_Of Ariston._

Ariston, when one commended the saying of Cleomenes,—who, being asked
what a good king should do, replied, Good turns to his friends, and
evil to his enemies,—said: How much better is it, sir, to do good to
our friends, and make our enemies our friends! Though upon all hands it
is agreed Socrates spoke this first, yet he hath the credit of it too.
To one asking how many the Spartans were in number he replied, Enough
to chase our enemies. An Athenian making a funeral oration in praise of
those that fell by the hand of the Lacedaemonians, he said, What brave
fellows then were ours, that conquered these!


_Of Archidamidas._

Archidamidas said to one commending Charilas for being kind to all
alike, How can he deserve commendation, that is gentle to the wicked
and unjust? When one was angry with Hecataeus the Sophist because when
admitted to the public entertainment he said nothing, he said, Sir, you
seem not to understand that he that knows how to speak knows also when
to speak.


_Of Archidamus the Son of Zeuxidamus._

Archidamus the son of Zeuxidamus, when one asked him who were governors
at Sparta, replied, The laws, and the magistrates according to those
laws. To one that praised a fiddler and admired his skill he said,
How must you prize brave men, when you can give a fiddler such a
commendation! When one recommending a musician to him said, This man
plays well upon the harp, he returned, And we have this man who makes
broth well;—as if it were no more to raise pleasure and tickle with
a sound than with meats and broths. To one that promised to make his
wine sweet he said, To what purpose? for we shall spend the more, and
ruin our public mess. When he besieged Corinth, seeing some hares
started under the very walls, he said to his soldiers, Our enemies may
be easily surprised. Two choosing him arbitrator, he brought them both
into the temple of Minerva of the Brazen House, and made them swear to
stand to his determination; and when they had both sworn, he said, I
determine that you shall not go out of this temple, till you have ended
all the differences between you. Dionysius the Sicilian tyrant sending
his daughters some very rich apparel, he refused it, saying, When this
is on, I am afraid they will look ugly and deformed. When he saw his
son rashly engaging the Athenians, he said, Pray get more strength or
less spirit.


_Of Archidamus the Son of Agesilaus._

Archidamus the son of Agesilaus, when Philip after the battle at
Chaeronea sent him a haughty letter, returned this answer, If you
measure your shadow, you will find it no greater than before the
victory. And being asked how much land the Spartans possessed, he
said, As much as their spears reach. Periander, a physician, being
well skilled in his profession and of good credit, but writing very
bad poems, he said to him, Why, Periander, instead of a good physician
are you eager to be called a bad poet? In the war with Philip, when
some advised him to fight at some distance from his own country, he
replied, Let us not mind that, but whether we shall fight bravely and
beat our enemies. To some who commended him for routing the Arcadians
he said, It had been better if we had been too hard for them in policy
rather than in strength. When he invaded Arcadia, understanding that
the Eleans were ready to oppose him, he wrote thus: Archidamus to the
Eleans; It is good to be quiet. The allies in the Peloponnesian war
consulting what treasure would be sufficient to carry on the war,
and desiring to set the tax, he said, War cannot be put on a certain
allowance. As soon as ever he saw a dart shot out of an engine brought
from Sicily, he cried out, Good God! true valor is gone for ever. When
the Greeks refused to obey him or to stand to those conditions which
he had made with Antigonus and Craterus the Macedonians, but would be
free, alleging that the Spartans would prove more rigorous lords than
the Macedonians, he said: A sheep always uses the same voice, but a man
various and many, till he hath perfected his designs.


_Of Astycratidas._

Astycratidas, after Agis the king was beaten by Antigonus at
Megalopolis, was asked, What will you Spartans do? will you serve the
Macedonians? He replied, Why so, can Antipater hinder us from dying in
the defence of Sparta?


_Of Bias._

Bias being surprised by an ambush that Iphicrates the Athenian general
had laid, and his soldiers demanding what must be done, he replied, You
must provide for your own safety, and I must fight manfully and die.


_Of Brasidas._

Brasidas catching a mouse amongst some dry figs, the mouse bit him;
upon which he let her go, and said to his companions, There is nothing
so little but it may preserve itself, if it dares resist the invaders.
In a battle, being shot through the shield into the body, he drew the
dart out and with it killed the enemy. And one asking how his wound
came, he replied, By the treachery of my shield. As he was leading
forth his army, he wrote to the Ephors, I will accomplish what I
wish in this war, or I will die for it. Being killed as he fought to
free the Greeks in Thrace, the ambassadors that were sent to Sparta
to condole his loss made a visit to his mother Argileonis. And the
first question she asked was, whether Brasidas died bravely. And the
Thracians extolling him and saying there was no such man in the world;
You mistake, sir, said she, it is true, Brasidas was a good man, but
Sparta can show many who are better.


_Of Damonidas._

Damonidas, when the master of the festival set him in the lowest place
in the choral dance, said, Well, sir, you have found a way to make this
place, which was infamous before, noble and honorable.


_Of Damis._

Damis to some letters that were sent to him by Alexander, intimating
that he should vote Alexander a God, returned this answer: We are
content that Alexander (if he will) be called a God.


_Of Damindas._

Damindas, when Philip invaded Peloponnesus, and one said that the
Spartans would suffer great mischiefs unless they accepted his
proposals, said, Thou woman-man, what misery can we suffer that despise
death?


_Of Dercyllidas._

Dercyllidas, being sent ambassador to Pyrrhus,—who was then with his
army on the borders of Sparta, and required them either to receive
their king Cleonymus, or he would make them know they were no better
than other men,—replied, If he is a God, we do not fear him, for we
have committed no fault; if a man, we are as good as he.


_Of Demaratus._

Demaratus,—when Orontes talked very roughly to him, and one said,
Demaratus, Orontes uses you very roughly,—replied, I have no reason
to be angry, for those that speak to please do the mischief, not those
that talk out of malice. To one enquiring why they disgrace those
that lose their shields in a battle and not those that lose their
head-pieces or breastplates, he answered, Because these serve for
their private safety only, but their shield for the common defence and
strength of the whole army. Hearing one play upon the harp, he said,
The man seems to play the fool well. In a certain assembly, when he
was asked whether he held his tongue because he was a fool or for want
of words, he replied, A fool cannot hold his tongue. When one asked
him why being king he fled Sparta, he answered, Because the laws rule
there. A Persian having by many presents enticed the boy that he loved
from him, and saying, Spartan, I have caught your love; No, faith, he
answered, but you have bought him. One having revolted from the king of
Persia, and by Demaratus’s persuasion returning again to his obedience,
and the king designing his death, Demaratus said: It is dishonorable,
O king, whilst he was an enemy not to be able to punish him for his
revolt, and to kill him now he is a friend. To a parasite of the king
that often jeered him about his exile he said: Sir, I will not fight
you, for you have lost your post in life.[179]


_Of Emprepes._

Emprepes, one of the Ephors, cut out two of the nine strings of Phrynis
the musician’s harp with a hatchet, saying, Do not abuse music.


_Of Epaenetus._

Epaenetus said that liars were the cause of all villanies and injustice
in the world.


_Of Euboidas._

Euboidas, hearing some commend another man’s wife, disliked it and
said, Strangers who are not of the house should never speak of the
manner of any woman.


_Of Eudamidas the Son of Archidamus._

Eudamidas, the son of Archidamus and brother of Agis, seeing
Xenocrates, now grown old, philosophizing in the Academy with some of
his acquaintance, asked what old man that was. And it being answered,
He is a wise man, and one of those that seek after virtue; he replied,
When will he use it, if he is seeking of it now? Another time, when
he heard a philosopher discoursing that none but a learned man could
be a good general, he said, Indeed the discourse is admirable, but
he that makes it is of no credit in this matter, for he hath never
heard a trumpet sound. Just as Xenocrates had finished his discourse,
Eudamidas came into his school, and when one of his companions said,
As soon as we came he ended; So he ought, he replied, if he had spoken
all that was needful on the subject. And the other saying, Yet it were
a pleasant thing to hear him, he replied, If we visited one that had
supped already, should we desire him to sit down again? When one asked
him why, when all the citizens voted a war with the Macedonians, he
appeared for peace, he answered, Because I have no mind to convince
them of their mistake. And when another encouraged them to this war,
mentioning their various victories over the Persians, he said, Sir, you
appear not to see that this would be as absurd as to set upon fifty
wolves because you have beaten a thousand sheep. A musician playing
very well, some asked him what manner of man he was in his opinion, and
he answered, A great seducer in a small matter. Hearing one commending
Athens, he said, Who could have reason to praise that city which no
man ever loved because he had been made better in it? An Argive saying
that the Spartans being taken from their own customs grew worse by
travel, he replied, But you, when you come into Sparta, do not return
worse, but much better. When Alexander ordered by public proclamation
in the Olympic games, that all exiles whatever, except the Thebans,
had free liberty to return to their own country, Eudamidas said: This
is a woful proclamation to you Thebans, but yet honorable; for of all
the Grecians Alexander fears only you. Being asked why before a battle
they sacrificed to the Muses, he replied, That our brave actions may be
worthily recorded.


_Of Eurycratidas the Son of Anaxandridas._

Eurycratidas the son of Anaxandridas, when one asked him why the Ephor
sat every day to determine causes about contracts, replied, That we may
learn to keep our word even with our enemies.


_Of Zeuxidamus._

Zeuxidamus, when one asked him why they did not set down all their
laws concerning bravery and courage in writing and let the young men
read them, answered, Because they should be accustomed to mind valiant
actions, rather than books and writings. An Aetolian saying that war
was better than peace for those that would be brave men, No, faith,
said he, but death is better than life.


_Of Herondas._

Herondas, when one at Athens was condemned for idleness, being informed
of it desired one to show him the man that had been convicted of so
gentlemanly an offence.


_Of Thearidas._

Thearidas whetting his sword, being asked, Is it sharp, Thearidas?
replied, Yes, sharper than a slander.


_Of Themisteas._

Themisteas the prophet foretold to King Leonidas his own and his
soldiers’ destruction at Thermopylae, and being commanded by Leonidas
to return to Sparta, under pretence of informing the state how affairs
stood, but really that he might not perish with the rest, he refused,
saying, I was sent as a soldier, not as a courier to carry news.


_Of Theopompus._

Theopompus, when one asked him how a monarch may be safe, replied, If
he will give his friends just freedom to speak the truth, and to the
best of his power not allow his subjects to be oppressed. To a guest of
his that said, In my own country I am called a lover of the Spartans,
he replied, It would be more honorable for you to be called a lover of
your citizens than a lover of the Spartans. An ambassador from Elis
saying that his city sent him because he was the only man amongst
them that admired and followed the Spartan way of living, Theopompus
asked, And pray, sir, which way is best, yours or the other citizens?
And the ambassador replying, Mine; he subjoined, How then can that
city stand, in which amongst so many inhabitants there is but one good
man? When one said that Sparta was preserved because the kings knew
how to govern; No, he replied, but because the citizens know how to be
governed. The Pylians voting him greater honors, he wrote to them thus,
Moderate honors time augments, but it defaces the immoderate.


_Of Thorycion._

Thorycion on his return from Delphi, seeing Philip’s army possessed of
the narrow passage at the Isthmus, said, Peloponnesus hath very bad
porters in you Corinthians.


_Of Thectamenes._

Thectamenes, when the Ephors condemned him to die, went away smiling;
and one of the company asked him whether he despised the judicial
proceedings of Sparta. No, said he, but I am glad that I am ordered to
pay a fine which I can pay out of my own stock, without being beholden
to any man or taking up money upon interest.


_Of Hippodamus._

Hippodamus, when Agis was joined in command with Archidamus, being sent
with Agis to Sparta to look after affairs there, said, But shall I not
die a more glorious death fighting valiantly in defence of Sparta? He
was above fourscore years of age, yet he put on his armor, fought on
the right hand of the king, and died bravely.


_Of Hippocratidas._

Hippocratidas, when the governor of Caria sent him word that he had
a Spartan in his hands who concealed a conspiracy that he was privy
to, and asked how he should deal with him, returned this answer: If
you have done him any great kindness, kill him; if not, banish him as
a base fellow, too mean-spirited to be good. A youth whom his lover
followed meeting him and blushing at the encounter, he said: You should
keep such company that, whoever sees you, you will have no reason to
change color.


_Of Callicratidas._

Callicratidas the admiral, when some of Lysander’s friends desired him
to permit them to kill one of the enemy, and offered fifty talents
for the favor, though he wanted money extremely to buy provision for
his soldiers, refused; and when Cleander urged him, and said, Sir, I
would have taken the money if I were you, he replied, So would I, were
I Cleander. When he came to Sardis to Cyrus the Younger, who was then
an ally of the Lacedaemonians, about a sum of money to equip his navy,
on the first day he ordered his officers to tell Cyrus that he desired
audience; but being told that he was drinking, Well, said he, I shall
stay till he hath done. But understanding that he could not be admitted
that day, he presently left the court, and thereupon was thought a
rude and uncivil fellow. On the next day, when he received the same
answer and could not be admitted, he said, I must not be so eager for
money as to do any thing unbecoming Sparta. And presently he returned
to Ephesus, cursing those who had first endured the insolence of the
barbarians, and had taught them to rely upon their wealth and abuse
others; and he swore to his companions that as soon as ever he came to
Sparta, he would do all that lay in his power to reconcile the Greek
states, that they might be more dreadful to the barbarians, and not
forced to seek assistance from them to ruin one another. Being asked
what manner of men the Ionians were, he replied, Bad freemen, but good
slaves. When Cyrus sent his soldiers their pay, and some particular
presents to himself, he received the pay, but sent back the presents,
saying that there was no need of any private friendship between them,
for the common league with the Lacedaemonians included him. Designing
to engage near Arginusae, when Hermon the pilot said, It is advisable
to tack about, for the Athenians exceed us in number; he exclaimed:
What then! it is base and dishonorable to Sparta to fly, but to stand
to it and die or conquer is brave and noble. As he was sacrificing
before the battle, when he heard the priest presaging that the army
would conquer but the captain fall, undauntedly he said: Sparta doth
not depend on one man; my country will receive no great loss by my
death, but a considerable one by my yielding to the enemy. And ordering
Cleander to succeed as admiral, he readily engaged, and died in the
battle.


_Of Cleombrotus the Son of Pausanias._

Cleombrotus, the son of Pausanias, when a friend of his contended with
his father which was the best man, said, Sir, my father must be better
than you, till you get a son as well as he.


_Of Cleomenes the Son of Anaxandridas._

Cleomenes, the son of Anaxandridas, was wont to say that Homer was the
poet of the Lacedaemonians, Hesiod of the Helots; for one taught the
art of war, and the other husbandry. Having made a truce for seven
days with the Argives, he watched his opportunity the third night,
and perceiving them secure and negligent by reason of the truce, he
fell upon them whilst they were asleep, killed some, and took others
prisoners. Upon this being upbraided for breach of articles, he said
that his oath did not extend to night as well as day, and to hurt a
man’s enemies any way, both before God and man, was much better than to
be just. It happened that he missed taking Argos, in hopes of which he
broke his oath; for the women taking the old arms out of the temples
defended the city. And afterwards running stark mad, he seized a knife,
and ripped himself up from the very ankles to the vital parts, and
thus died grinning and laughing. The priest advising him not to march
to Argos,—for he would be forced to a dishonorable retreat,—when he
came near the city and saw the gates shut and the women upon the walls,
he said: What, sir priests, will this be a dishonorable retreat, when,
the men being all lost, the women have shut the gates? When some of the
Argives railed at him as an impious and forsworn wretch, he said, Well,
it is in your power to rail at me, and in mine to mischief you. The
Samian ambassadors urging him to make war on the tyrant Polycrates, and
making long harangues on that account, he said: The beginning of your
speech I don’t remember, and therefore I cannot understand the middle,
and the last I don’t like. A pirate spoiling the country, and when he
was taken saying, I had no provision for my soldiers, and therefore
went to those who had store and would not give it willingly, to force
it from them; Cleomenes said, True villainy goes the shortest way to
work. A base fellow railing at him, he said, Well, I think thou railest
at everybody, that being employed to defend ourselves, we may have no
time to speak of thy baseness.

One of the citizens saying that a good king should be always mild
and gracious, True, said he, as long as he doth not make himself
contemptible. Being tormented with a long disease, he consulted the
priests and expiators, to whom he formerly gave no credit; and when a
friend of his wondered at the action, Why dost thou wonder, said he,
for I am not the same man I was then; and since I am not the same,
I do not approve the same things. A Sophist discoursing of courage,
he laughed exceedingly; and the Sophist saying, Why do you laugh,
Cleomenes, when you hear one treat of courage, especially since you are
a king? Because, sir, said he, if a swallow should discourse of it, I
should laugh; but if an eagle, I should hearken attentively.

When the Argives boasted that they would retrieve their defeat by a
new battle, he said, I wonder if the addition of two syllables[180]
has made you braver than you were before. When one railed at him, and
said, Thou art luxurious, Cleomenes; Well, he replied, that is better
than to be unjust; but thou art covetous, although thou art master of
abundance of superfluities. A friend willing to recommend a musician to
him, besides other large commendations, said he was the best musician
in all Greece. Cleomenes, pointing to one that stood by, said, Faith,
sir, that fellow is my best cook. Maeander the Samian tyrant, flying
to Sparta upon the invasion of the Persian, discovering what treasure
he had brought, and offering Cleomenes as much as he would have,
Cleomenes refused, and beside took care that he should not give any
of the citizens a farthing; but going to the Ephors, told them that
it would be good for Sparta to send that Samian guest of his out of
Peloponnesus, lest he should persuade any of the Lacedaemonians to be
a knave. And they taking his advice ordered Maeander to be gone that
very day. One asking why, since they had beaten the Argives so often,
they did not totally destroy them, he replied, That we may have some to
exercise our youth. One demanding why the Spartans did not dedicate
the spoils of their enemies to the Gods, Because, said he, they are
taken from cowards; and such things as are betrayed to us by the
cowardice of the possessors are fit neither for our youth to see, nor
to be dedicated to the Gods.


_Of Cleomenes the Son of Cleombrotus._

Cleomenes, the son of Cleombrotus, to one that presented him some
game-cocks, and said, Sir, these will die before they run, returned:
Pray let me have some of that breed which will kill these, for
certainly they are the better of the two.


_Of Labotus._

Labotus said to one that made a long discourse: Why such great
preambles to so small a matter? A speech should be no bigger than the
subject.


_Of Leotychidas._

Leotychidas the First, when one said he was very inconstant, replied,
My inconstancy proceeds from the variety of times, and not as yours
from innate baseness. And to another asking him what was the best
way to secure his present happiness, he answered, Not to trust all
to Fortune. And to another enquiring what free-born boys should
principally learn, That, said he, which will profit them when they
are grown men. And to another asking why the Spartans drink little,
he replied, That we may consult concerning others, and not others
concerning us.


_Of Leotychidas the Son of Aristo._

Leotychidas the son of Aristo, when one told him that Demaratus’s sons
spake ill of him, replied, Faith, no wonder, for not one of them can
speak well. A serpent twisting about the key of his inmost door, and
the priests declaring it a prodigy; I cannot think it so, said he, but
it had been one if the key had twisted round the serpent. To Philip, a
priest of Orpheus’s mysteries, in extreme poverty, saying that those
whom he initiated were very happy after death, he said, Why then, you
sot, don’t you die quickly, and bewail your poverty and misery no more?


_Of Leo the Son of Eucratidas._

Leo the son of Eucratidas, being asked in what city a man might live
with the greatest safety, replied, In that where the inhabitants
have neither too much nor too little; where justice is strong and
injustice weak. Seeing the racers in the Olympian games very solicitous
at starting to get some advantage of one another, he said, How much
more careful are these racers to be counted swift than just! To one
discoursing of some profitable matters out of due season he said, Sir,
you do a very good thing at a very bad time.


_Of Leonidas the Son of Anaxandridas._

Leonidas, the son of Anaxandridas and brother to Cleomenes, when one
said to him, Abating that you are king, you are no better than we,
replied, But unless I had been better than you, I had not been king.
His wife Gorgo, when he went forth to Thermopylae to fight the Persian,
asked him what command he left with her; and he replied, Marry brave
men, and bear them brave children. The Ephors saying, You lead but few
to Thermopylae; They are many, said he, considering on what design we
go. And when they again asked him whether he had any other enterprise
in his thought, he replied, I pretend to go to hinder the barbarians’
passage, but really to die fighting for the Greeks. When he was at
Thermopylae, he said to his soldiers: They report the enemy is at
hand, and we lose time; for we must either beat the barbarian or die
ourselves. And to another saying, What, the flights of the Persian
arrows will darken the very sun, he said, Therefore it will be pleasant
for us to fight in the shade. And another saying, What, Leonidas, do
you come to fight so great a number with so few?—he returned: If you
esteem number, all Greece is not able to match a small part of that
army; if courage, this number is sufficient. And to another discoursing
after the same manner he said, I have enough, since they are to be
killed. When Xerxes wrote to him thus, Sir, you may forbear to fight
against the Gods, but may follow my interest and be lord of all Greece,
he answered: If you understood wherein consisted the happiness of life,
you would not covet other men’s; but know that I would rather die for
the liberty of Greece than be a monarch over my countrymen. And Xerxes
writing to him again thus, Send me thy arms, he returned, Come and take
them. When he resolved to fall upon the enemy, and his captains of the
war told him he must stay till the forces of the allies had joined
him, he said: Do you think all those that intend to fight are not here
already? Or do you not understand that those only fight who fear and
reverence their kings? And he ordered his soldiers so to dine, as if
they were to sup in another world. And being asked why the bravest
men prefer an honorable death before an inglorious life, he replied,
Because they believe one is the gift of Nature, while the other is
peculiarly their own. Being desirous to save the striplings that were
with him, and knowing very well that if he dealt openly with them none
would accept his kindness, he gave each of them privately letters to
carry to the Ephors. He desired likewise to save three of those that
were grown men; but they having some notice of his design refused the
letters. And one of them said, I came, sir, to be a soldier, and not a
courier; and the second, I shall be a better man if here than if away;
and the third, I will not be behind these, but the first in the fight.


_Of Lochagus._

Lochagus the father of Polyaenides and Siron, when one told him one of
his sons was dead, said, I knew long ago that he must die.


_Of Lycurgus the Lawgiver._

Lycurgus the lawgiver, designing to reclaim his citizens from their
former luxury and bring them to a more sober course of life and make
them brave men (for they were then loose and delicate), bred up two
whelps of the same litter; one he kept at home, bred him tenderly, and
fed him well; but the other he taught to hunt, and used him to the
chase. Both these dogs he brought out into the public assembly, and
setting down some scraps of meat and letting go a hare at the same
time, each of the dogs ran greedily to what they had been accustomed.
And the hunter catching the hare, Lycurgus said: See, countrymen, how
these two, though of the same litter, by my breeding them are become
very different; and that custom and exercise conduces more than Nature
to make things brave and excellent. Some say that he did not bring
out two whelps of the same kind, but one a house dog and the other a
hunter; the former of which (though the baser kind) he had accustomed
to the woods, and the other (though more noble) kept lazily at home;
and when in public, each of them pursuing his usual delight, he had
given a clear evidence that education is of considerable force in
raising bad or good inclinations, he said: Therefore, countrymen, our
honorable extraction, that idol of the crowd, though from Hercules
himself, profits us little, unless we learn and exercise all our life
in such famous exploits as made him accounted the most noble and the
most glorious in the world.

When he made a division of the land, giving each man an equal portion,
it is reported that some while after, in his return from a journey, as
he past through the country in harvest time and saw the cocks of wheat
all equal and lying promiscuously, he was extremely pleased, and with
a smile said to his companions, All Sparta looks like the possession
of many loving brothers who have lately divided their estate. Having
discharged every man from his debts, he endeavored likewise to divide
all movables equally amongst all, that he might have no inequality in
his commonwealth. But seeing that the rich men would hardly endure this
open and apparent spoil, he cried down all gold and silver coin, and
ordered nothing but iron to be current; and rated every man’s estate
and defined how much it was worth upon exchange for that money. By
this means all injustice was banished Sparta; for none would steal,
none take bribes, none cheat or rob any man of that which he could
not conceal, which none would envy, which could not be used without
discovery, or carried into other countries with advantage. Besides,
this contrivance freed them from all superfluous arts; for no merchant,
Sophist, fortune-teller, or mountebank would live amongst them; no
carver, no contriver ever troubled Sparta; because he cried down all
money that was advantageous to them, and permitted none but this iron
coin, each piece of which was an Aegina pound in weight, and less
than a penny in value.[181] Designing farther to check all luxury and
greediness after wealth, he instituted public meals, where all the
citizens were obliged to eat. And when some of his friends demanded
what he designed by this institution and why he divided the citizens,
when in arms, into small companies, he replied: That they may more
easily hear the word of command; and if there are any designs against
the state, the conspiracy may join but few; and besides, that there may
be an equality in the provision, and that neither in meat nor drink,
seats, tables, or any furniture, the rich may be better provided than
the poor. When he had by this contrivance made wealth less desirable,
it being unfit both for use and show, he said to his familiars, What
a brave thing is it, my friends, by our actions to make Plutus appear
(as he is indeed) blind! He took care that none should sup at home and
afterwards, when they were full of other victuals, come to the public
entertainments; for all the rest reproached him that did not feed
with them as a glutton and of too delicate a palate for the public
provision; and when he was discovered, he was severely punished. And
therefore Agis the king, when after a long absence he returned from the
camp (the Athenians were beaten in the expedition), willing to sup at
home with his wife once, sent a servant for his allowance; the officers
refused, and the next day the Ephors fined him for the fault.

The wealthy citizens being offended at these constitutions made a
mutiny against him, abused, threw stones, and designed to kill him.
Thus pursued, he ran through the market-place towards the temple of
Minerva of the Brazen House, and reached it before any of the others;
only Alcander pursuing close struck him as he turned about, and beat
out one eye. Afterward the commonwealth delivered up this Alcander to
his mercy; but he neither inflicted any punishment nor gave him an
ill word, but kindly entertained him at his own house, and brought
him to be his friend, an admirer of his course of life, and very well
affected to all his laws. Yet he built a monument of this sad disaster
in the temple of Minerva, naming it Optiletis,—for the Dorians in that
country call eyes _optiloi_. Being asked why he used no written laws,
he replied, Because those that are well instructed are able to suit
matters to the present occasion. And another time, when some enquired
why he had ordained that the timber which roofed the houses should
be wrought with the axe only, and the doors with no other instrument
but the saw, he answered: That my citizens might be moderate in every
thing which they bring into their houses, and possess nothing which
others so much prize and value. And hence it is reported that King
Leotychides the First, supping with a friend and seeing the roof
curiously arched and richly wrought, asked him whether in that country
the trees grew square. And some demanding why he forbade them to war
often with the same nation, he replied, Lest being often forced to
stand on their defence, they should get experience and be masters of
our art. And therefore it was a great fault in Agesilaus, that by his
frequent incursions into Boeotia he made the Thebans a match for the
Lacedaemonians. And another asking why he exercised the virgins’ bodies
with racing, wrestling, throwing the bar, and the like, he answered:
That the first rooting of the children being strong and firm, their
growth might be proportionable; and that the women might have strength
to bear and more easily undergo the pains of travail, or, if necessity
should require, be able to fight for themselves, their country, and
their children. Some being displeased that the virgins went about naked
at certain solemnities, and demanding the reason of that custom, he
replied: That using the same exercises with men, they might equal them
in strength and health of body and in courage and bravery of mind, and
be above that mean opinion which the vulgar had of them. And hence goes
the story of Gorgo, wife of Leonidas, that when a stranger, a friend of
hers, said, You Spartan women alone rule men, she replied, Good reason,
for we alone bear men. By ordering that no bachelor should be admitted
a spectator of these naked solemnities and fixing some other disgrace
on them, he made them all eager to be married and get children;
besides, he deprived them of that honor and observance which the young
men were bound to pay their elders. And upon that account none can
blame what was said to Dercyllidas, though a brave captain; for as he
approached, one of the young men refused to rise up and give him place,
saying, You have not begotten any to give place to me.

When one asked him why he allowed no dowry to be given with a maid,
he answered, that none might be slighted for their poverty or courted
for their wealth, but that every one, considering the manners of the
maid, might choose for the sake of virtue. And for the same reason he
forbade all painting of the face and curiousness in dress and ornament.
To one that asked him why he made a law that before such an age neither
sex should marry, he answered, that the children might be lusty, being
born of persons of full age. And to one wondering why he would not
suffer the husband to lie all night with his wife, but commanded them
to be most of the day and all the night with their fellows, and creep
to their wives cautiously and by stealth, he said: I do it that they
may be strong in body, having never been satiated and surfeited with
pleasure; that they may be always fresh in love, and their children
more strong and lusty. He forbade all perfumes, as nothing but good
oil corrupted, and the dyer’s art, as a flatterer and enticer of the
sense; and he ejected all skilled in ornament and dressing, as those
who by their lewd devices corrupt the true arts of decency and living
well. At that time the women were so chaste and such strangers to that
lightness to which they were afterwards addicted, that adultery was
incredible; and there goes a saying of Geradatas, one of the ancient
Spartans, who being asked by a stranger what punishment the Spartans
appointed for adulterers (for Lycurgus mentioned none), he said, Sir,
we have no adulterers amongst us. And he replying, But suppose there
should be? Geradatas made the same reply; For how (said he) could there
be an adulterer in Sparta, where wealth, delicacy, and all ornaments
are disesteemed, and modesty, neatness, and obedience to the governors
only are in request? When one desired him to establish a democracy in
Sparta, he said, Pray, sir, do you first set up that form in your own
family. And to another demanding why he ordered such mean sacrifices he
answered, That we may always be able to honor the Gods. He permitted
the citizens those exercises only in which the hand is not stretched
out; and one demanding his reason, he replied, That none in any labor
may be accustomed to be weary. And another enquiring why he ordered
that in a war the camp should be often changed, he answered, That we
may damage our enemies the more. Another demanding why he forbade to
storm a castle, he said, Lest my brave men should be killed by a woman,
a boy, or some man of as mean courage.

When the Thebans asked his advice about the sacrifices and lamentation
which they instituted in honor of Leucothea, he gave them this: If you
think her a Goddess, do not lament; if a woman, do not sacrifice to her
as a Goddess. To some of the citizens enquiring, How shall we avoid
the invasions of enemies, he replied, If you are poor, and one covets
no more than another. And to others demanding why he did not wall his
city he said, That city is not unwalled which is encompassed with men
and not brick. The Spartans are curious in their hair, and tell us
that Lycurgus said, It makes the handsome more amiable, and the ugly
more terrible. He ordered that in a war they should pursue the routed
enemy so far as to secure the victory, and then retreat, saying, it was
unbecoming the Grecian bravery to butcher those that fled; and beside,
it was useful, for their enemies, knowing that they spared all that
yielded and cut in pieces the opposers, would easily conclude that it
was safer to fly than to stand stoutly to it and resist. When one asked
him why he charged his soldiers not to meddle with the spoil of their
slain enemies, he replied, Lest while they are eager on their prey they
neglect their fighting, but also that they may keep their order and
their poverty together.


_Of Lysander._

Lysander, when Dionysius sent him two gowns, and bade him choose which
he would to carry to his daughter, said, She can choose best; and so
took both away with him. This Lysander being a very crafty fellow,
frequently using subtle tricks and notable deceits, placing all
justice and honesty in profit and advantage, would confess that truth
indeed was better than a lie, but the worth and dignity of either was
to be defined by their usefulness to our affairs. And to some that
were bitter upon him for these deceitful practices, as unworthy of
Hercules’s family, and owing his success to little mean tricks and
not plain force and open dealing, he answered with a smile, When the
lion’s skin cannot prevail, a little of the fox’s must be used. And
to others that upbraided him for breaking his oaths made at Miletus
he said, Boys must be cheated with cockal-bones, and men with oaths.
Having surprised the Athenians by an ambush near the Goat Rivers and
routed them, and afterwards by famine forced the city to surrender,
he wrote to the Ephors, Athens is taken. When the Argives were in a
debate with the Lacedaemonians about their confines and seemed to have
the better reasons on their side, drawing his sword, he said, He that
hath this is the best pleader about confines. Leading his army through
Boeotia, and finding that state wavering and not fixed on either party,
he sent to know whether he should march through their country with his
spears up or down. At an assembly of the states of Greece, when a
Megarian talked saucily to him, he said, Sir, your words want a city.
The Corinthians revolting, and he approaching to the walls that he saw
the Spartans not eager to storm, while at the same time hares were
skipping over the trenches of the town; Are not you ashamed (said he)
to be afraid of those enemies whose slothfulness suffers even hares
to sleep upon their walls? At Samothrace, as he was consulting the
oracle, the priests ordered him to confess the greatest crime he had
been guilty of in his whole life. What, said he, is this your own,
or the God’s command? And the priests replying, The God’s; said he,
Do you withdraw, and I will tell them, if they make any such demand.
A Persian asking him what polity he liked, That, he replied, which
assigns stout men and cowards suitable rewards. To one that said, Sir,
I always commend you and speak in your behalf,—Well, said he, I have
two oxen in the field, and though neither says one word, I know very
well which is the laborious and which the lazy. To one that railed at
him he said, Speak, sir, let us have it all fast, if thou canst empty
thy soul of those wicked thoughts which thou seemest full of. Some time
after his death, there happening a difference between the Spartans and
their allies, Agesilaus went to Lysander’s house to inspect some papers
that lay in his custody relating to that matter; and there found an
oration composed for Lysander concerning the government, setting forth
that it was expedient to set aside the families of the Europrotidae
and Agidae, to admit all to an equal claim, and choose their king out
of the worthiest men, that the crown might be the reward not of those
that shared in the blood of Hercules, but of those who were like him
for virtue and courage, that virtue that exalted him into a God. This
oration Agesilaus was resolved to publish, to show the Spartans how
much they were mistaken in Lysander and to discredit his friends; but
they say, Cratidas the president of the Ephors fearing this oration,
if published, would prevail upon the people, advised Agesilaus to be
quiet, telling him that he should not dig up Lysander, but rather bury
that oration with him, being so cunningly contrived, so powerful to
persuade. Those that courted his daughters, and when at his death he
appeared to be poor forsook them, the Ephors fined, because whilst they
thought him rich they caressed him, but scorned him when by his poverty
they knew him to be just and honest.


_Of Namertes._

Namertes being on an embassy, when one of that country told him he was
a happy man in having so many friends, asked him if he knew any certain
way to try whether a man had many friends or not; and the other being
earnest to be told, Namertes replied, Adversity.


_Of Nicander._

Nicander, when one told him that the Argives spake very ill of him,
said, Well, they suffer for speaking ill of good men. And to one
that enquired why they wore long hair and long beards, he answered,
Because man’s natural ornaments are the handsomest and the cheapest.
An Athenian saying, Nicander, you Spartans are extremely idle; You
say true, he answered, but we do not busy ourselves like you in every
trifle.


_Of Panthoidas._

When Panthoidas was ambassador in Asia and some showed him a strong
fortification, Faith, said he, it is a fine cloister for women. In the
Academy, when the philosophers had made a great many and excellent
discourses, and asked Panthoidas how he liked them; Indeed, said he, I
think them very good, but of no profit at all, since you yourselves do
not use them.


_Of Pausanias the Son of Cleombrotus._

Pausanias the son of Cleombrotus, when the Delians pleaded their
title to the island against the Athenians, and urged that according
to their law no women were ever brought to bed or any carcass buried
in the isle, said, How then can that be your country, in which not
one of you was born or shall ever lie? The exiles urging him to march
against the Athenians, and saying that, when he was proclaimed victor
in the Olympic games, these alone hissed; How, says he, since they
hissed whilst we did them good, what do you think they will do when
abused? When one asked him why they made Tyrtaeus the poet a citizen,
he answered, That no foreigner should be our captain. A man of a weak
and puny body advising to fight the enemy both by sea and land; Pray,
sir, says he, will you strip and show what a man you are who advise
to engage? When some amongst the spoils of the barbarians admired the
richness of their clothes; It had been better, he said, that they had
been men of worth themselves than that they should possess things
of worth. After the victory over the Medes at Plataea, he commanded
his officers to set before him the Persian banquet that was already
dressed; which appearing very sumptuous, By heaven, quoth he, the
Persian is an abominable glutton, who, when he hath such delicacies at
home, comes to eat our barley-cakes.


_Of Pausanias the Son of Plistoanax._

Pausanias the son of Plistoanax replied to one that asked him why it
was not lawful for the Spartans to abrogate any of their old laws,
Because men ought to be subject to laws, and not the laws to men. When
banished and at Tegea, he commended the Lacedaemonians. One said to
him, Why then did you not stay at Sparta? And he returned, Physicians
are conversant not amongst the healthy, but the diseased. To one
asking him how they should conquer the Thracians, he replied, If we
make the best man our captain. A physician, after he had felt his
pulse and considered his constitution, saying, He ails nothing; It
is because, sir, he replied, I use none of your physic. When one of
his friends blamed him for giving a physician an ill character, since
he had no experience of his skill nor received any injury from him;
No, faith, said he, for had I tried him, I had not lived to give this
character. And when the physician said, Sir, you are an old man; That
happens, he replied, because you were never my doctor. And he was used
to say, that he was the best physician, who did not let his patients
rot above ground, but quickly buried them.


_Of Paedaretus._

Paedaretus, when one told him the enemies were numerous, said,
Therefore we shall get the greater reputation, for we shall kill
the more. Seeing a man soft by nature and a coward commended by the
citizens for his lenity and good disposition, he said, We should not
praise men that are like women, nor women that are like men, unless
some extremity forceth a woman to stand upon her guard. When he was
not chosen into the three hundred (the chief order in the city), he
went away laughing and very jocund; and the Ephors calling him back and
asking why he laughed, Why, said he, I congratulate the happiness of
the city, that enjoys three hundred citizens better than myself.


_Of Plistarchus._

Plistarchus the son of Leonidas, to one asking him why they did not
take their names from the first kings, replied, Because the former were
rather captains than kings, but the later otherwise. A certain advocate
using a thousand little jests in his pleading; Sir, said he, you do not
consider that, as those that often wrestle are wrestlers at last, so
you by often exciting laughter will become ridiculous yourself. When
one told him that an notorious railer spoke well of him; I’ll lay my
life, said he, somebody hath told him I am dead, for he can speak well
of no man living.


_Of Plistoanax._

Plistoanax the son of Pausanias, when an Athenian orator called the
Lacedaemonians unlearned fellows, said, ’Tis true, for we alone of all
the Greeks have not learned any ill from you.


_Of Polydorus._

Polydorus the son of Alcamenes, when one often threatened his enemies,
said to him, Do not you perceive, sir, that you waste a great part of
your revenge? As he marched his army against Messene, a friend asked
him if he would fight against his brothers? No, said he, but I put in
for an estate to which none, as yet, hath any good title. The Argives
after the fight of the three hundred being totally routed in a set
battle, the allies urged him not to let the opportunity slip, but storm
and take the city of the enemy; for it would be very easy, now all
the men were destroyed and none but women left. He replied: I love to
vanquish my enemies when I fight on equal terms; nor do I think it just
in him who was commissioned to contest about the confines of the two
states, to desire to be master of the city; for I came only to recover
our own territories and not to seize theirs. Being asked once why the
Spartans ventured so bravely in battle; Because, said he, we have
learned to reverence and not fear our leaders.


_Of Polycratidas._

Polycratidas being joined with others in an embassy to the lieutenants
of the king, being asked whether they came as private or public
persons, returned, If we obtain our demands, as public; if not, as
private.


_Of Phoebidas._

Phoebidas, just before the battle at Leuctra, when some said, This day
will show who is a brave man, replied, ’Tis a fine day indeed that can
show a brave man alive.


_Of Soos._

It is reported of Soos that, when his army was shut up by the
Clitorians in a disadvantageous strait and wanted water, he agreed to
restore all the places he had taken, if all his men should drink of the
neighboring fountain. Now the enemy had secured the spring and guarded
it. These articles being sworn to, he convened his soldiers, and
promised to give him the kingdom who would forbear drinking; but none
accepting it, he went to the water, sprinkled himself, and so departed,
whilst the enemies looked on; and he therefore refused to restore the
places, because he himself had not drunk.


_Of Telecrus._

Telecrus, to one reporting that his father spake ill of him, replied,
He would not speak so unless he had reason for it. When his brother
said, The citizens have not that kindness for me they have for you, but
use me more coarsely, though born of the same parents, he replied, You
do not know how to bear an injury, and I do. Being asked what was the
reason of that custom among the Spartans for the younger to rise up
in reverence to the elder, Because, said he, by this behavior towards
those to whom they have no relation, they may learn to reverence their
parents more. To one enquiring what wealth he had, he returned, No more
than enough.


_Of Charillus._

Charillus being asked why Lycurgus made so few laws; Because, he
replied, those whose words are few need but few laws. Another enquiring
why their virgins appear in public unveiled, and their wives veiled;
Because, said he, virgins ought to find husbands, married women keep
those they have. To a slave saucily opposing him he said, I would kill
thee if I were not angry. And being asked what polity he thought best;
That, said he, in which most of the citizens without any disturbance
contend about virtue. And to a friend enquiring why amongst them all
the images of the Gods were armed he replied, That those reproaches we
cast upon men for their cowardice may not reflect upon the Gods, and
that our youth may not supplicate the Deities unarmed.




THE REMARKABLE SPEECHES OF SOME OBSCURE MEN AMONGST THE SPARTANS.


When the Samian ambassadors had made a long harangue, the Spartans
answered, We have forgot the first part, and so cannot understand the
last. To the Thebans violently contesting with them about something
they replied, Your spirit should be less, or your forces greater. A
Lacedaemonian being asked why he kept his beard so long; That seeing
my gray hairs, he replied, I may do nothing but what becomes them.
One commending the best warriors, a Spartan that overheard said, At
Troy. Another, hearing that some forced their guests to drink after
supper, said, What! not to eat too? Pindar in his poems having called
Athens the prop of Greece, a Spartan said, Greece would soon fall if it
leaned on such a prop. When one, seeing the Athenians pictured killing
the Spartans, said, The Athenians are stout fellows; Yes, subjoined a
Spartan, in a picture. To one that was very attentive to a scandalous
accusation a Spartan said, Pray, sir, be not prodigal of your ears
against me. And to one under correction that cried out, I offend
against my will, another said, Therefore suffer against thy will. One
seeing some journeying in a chariot said, God forbid that I should sit
where I cannot rise up to reverence my elders. Some Chian travellers
vomiting after supper in the consistory, and dunging in the very seats
of the Ephors, first they made strict inquiry whether the offenders
were citizens or not; but finding they were Chians, they publicly
proclaimed that they gave the Chians leave to be filthy and uncivil.

When one saw a merchant sell hard almonds at double the price that
others were usually sold at, he said, Are stones scarce? Another
pulling a nightingale, and finding but a very small body, said, Thou
art voice and nothing else. Another Spartan, seeing Diogenes the Cynic
in very cold weather embrace a brazen statue, asked whether he was
not very cold; and he replying, No, he rejoined, What great matter
then is it that you do? A Metapontine, being jeered by a Spartan for
cowardice, replied, Nay, sir, we are masters of some of the territories
of other states; Then, said the Spartan, you are not only cowards but
unjust. A traveller at Sparta, standing long upon one leg, said to a
Lacedaemonian, I do not believe you can do as much; True, said he,
but every goose can. To one valuing himself upon his skill in oratory
a Spartan said, By heaven, there never was and never can be any art
without truth. An Argive saying, We have the tombs of many Spartans
amongst us; a Spartan replied, But we cannot show the grave of one
Argive; meaning that they had often invaded Argos, but the Argives
never Sparta. A Spartan that was taken captive and to be sold,—when
the crier said, Here’s a Spartan to be sold,—stopped his mouth,
saying, Cry a captive. One of the soldiers of Lysimachus, being asked
by him whether he was a true Spartan or one of the Helot slaves,
replied, Do you imagine a Lacedaemonian would serve you for a groat a
day? The Thebans, having beaten the Lacedaemonians at Leuctra, marched
to the river Eurotas itself, where one of them boasting said, Where are
the Spartans now? To whom a captive replied, They are not at hand, sir,
for if they had been, you had not come so far. The Athenians, having
surrendered their own city to the Spartans, requested that they might
be permitted to enjoy Samos only; upon which the Spartans said, When
you are not at your own disposal, would you be lords of others? And
hence came that proverb, He that is not master of himself begs Samos.

When the Lacedaemonians had taken a town by storm, the Ephors said, The
exercise of our youth is lost, for now they will have none to contend
with them. The Persian offering to raze a city that had frequent
quarrels and skirmishes with the Spartans, they desired him to forbear
and not take away the whetstone of their youth. They appointed no
masters to instruct their boys in wrestling, that they might contend
not in sleights of art and little tricks, but in strength and courage;
and therefore Lysander, being asked by what means Charon was too hard
for him, replied, By sleights and cunning. When Philip, having entered
their territories, sent to know whether he should come as an enemy or
a friend, the Spartans returned, Neither. Hearing that the ambassador
they had sent to Antigonus the son of Demetrius had called him king,
they fined him, though he had obtained of him in a time of scarcity a
bushel of wheat for every person in the city. A vicious person giving
excellent good counsel, they received it, but took it from him and
attributed it to another, a man regular and of a good life. When some
brothers differed, they fined the father for neglecting his sons and
suffering them to be at strife. They fined likewise a musician that
came amongst them, for playing the harp with his fingers. Two boys
fighting, one wounded the other mortally with a hook. And when his
acquaintance, just as he was dying, vowed to revenge his death and
have the blood of him that killed him; By no means, saith he, it is
unjust, for I had done the same thing if I had been stout and more
speedy in my stroke. Another boy, at the time when freemen’s sons are
allowed to steal what they can and it is a disgrace to be discovered,
when some of his companions had stolen a young fox and delivered it
to him, and the owners came to search, hid it under his gown; and
though the angry little beast bit through his side to his very guts, he
endured it quietly, that he might not be discovered. When the searchers
were gone and the boys saw what had happened, they chid him roundly,
saying, It had been better to produce the fox, than thus to conceal
him by losing your own life; No, no! he replied, it is much better
to die in torments, than to let my softness betray me and suffer a
life that had been scandalous. Some meeting certain Spartans upon the
road said, Sirs, you have good luck, for the robbers are just gone.
Faith, they replied, they have good luck that they did not meet with
us. A Lacedaemonian, being asked what he knew, answered, To be free.
A Spartan boy, being taken by Antigonus and sold, obeyed his master
readily in every thing that he thought not below a freeman to do; but
when he was commanded to bring a chamber-pot, unable to contain he
said, I will not serve; but his master pressing him, he ran to the
top of the house, and saying, You shall find what you have bought,
threw himself down headlong and died. Another being to be sold, when
the chapman asked him, Wilt thou be towardly if I buy thee? Yes, he
returned, and if you do not buy me. Another captive, when the crier
said, Here’s a slave to be sold, cried out, You villain, why not a
captive? A Spartan, who had a fly engraven on his shield no bigger than
Nature hath made that creature, when some jeered him as if he did it on
purpose that he might not be taken notice of, replied: It is that I may
be known; for I advance so near my enemies that they can well perceive
my impress, as little as it is. Another, when at an entertainment a
harp was brought in, said, It is not the custom of the Spartans to play
the fool. A Spartan being asked whether the way to Sparta was safe or
not, replied: That is according as you go down thither; for lions that
approach rue their coming, and hares we hunt in their very coverts. A
Spartan wrestling, when he could not make his adversary that had got
the upper hand of him loose his hold, and was unable to avoid the fall,
bit him by the arm; and the other saying, Spartan, thou bitest like a
woman; No, said he, but like a lion. A lame man, marching out to war
and being laughed at, said, There is no need of those that can run
away, but of those that can stand to it and defend their post. Another
being shot through said with his last breath: It doth not trouble
me that I die, but that I should be killed by a woman before I had
performed some notable exploit. One coming into an inn and giving the
host a piece of meat to make ready for him,—when the host demanded
some cheese and oil besides,—What! says the Spartan, if I had cheese
should I want meat? When one called Lampis of Aegina happy, because
he seemed a rich man, having many ships of his own at sea, a Spartan
said, I do not like that happiness that hangs by a cord. One telling
a Spartan that he lied, the Spartan returned: True, for we are free;
but others, unless they speak truth, will suffer for it. When one had
undertaken to make a carcass stand upright, and tried every way to no
purpose; Faith, said he, there wants something within. Tynnichus bore
his son Thrasybulus’s death very patiently, and there is this epigram
made upon him:—

    Stout Thrasybulus on his shield was brought
    From bloody fields, where he had bravely fought,
    The Argives beat, and as he stoutly prest,
    Seven spears, and Death attending, pierced his breast.
    The father took the corpse, and as he bled,
    He laid it on the funeral pile, and said:
    Be cowards mourned, I’ll spend no tear nor groan,
    Whilst thus I burn a Spartan and my son.

The keeper of the bath allowing more water than ordinary to Alcibiades
the Athenian, a Spartan said, What! is he more foul, that he wants more
than others? Philip making an inroad upon Sparta, and all the Spartans
expecting to be cut off, he said to one of them, Now what will you
Spartans do? And he replied: What, but to die bravely? for only we of
all the Greeks have learned to be free and not endure a yoke. When Agis
was beaten and Antipater demanded fifty boys for hostages, Eteocles,
one of the then Ephors, answered: Boys we will not give, lest swerving
from the customs of their country they prove slothful and untoward,
and so incapable of the privilege of citizens; but of women and old
men you shall have twice as many. And when upon refusal he threatened
some sharp afflictions, he returned: If you lay upon us somewhat worse
than death, we shall die the more readily. An old man in the Olympic
games being desirous to see the sport, and unprovided of a seat, went
about from place to place, was laughed and jeered at, but none offered
him the civility; but when he came to the Spartans’ quarter, all the
boys and some of the men rose from their seats, and made him room. At
this, all the Greeks clapped and praised their behavior; upon which
the good old man shaking his hoary hairs, with tears in his eyes, said:
Good God! how well all the Greeks know what is good, and yet only the
Lacedaemonians practise it! And some say the same thing was done at
Athens. For at the great solemnity of the Athenians, the Panathenaic
festival, the Attics abused an old man, calling him as if they designed
to make room for him, and when he came putting him off again; and when
after this manner he had passed through almost all, he came to that
quarter where the Spartan spectators sat, and all of them presently
rose up and gave him place; the whole multitude, extremely taken with
this action, clapped and shouted; upon which one of the Spartans said:
By Heaven, these Athenians know what should be done, but are not much
for doing it. A beggar asking an alms of a Lacedaemonian, he said:
Well, should I give thee any thing, thou wilt be the greater beggar,
for he that first gave thee money made thee idle, and is the cause of
this base and dishonorable way of living. Another Spartan, seeing a
fellow gathering charity for the Gods’ sake, said, I will never regard
those as Gods that are poorer than myself. Another, having taken one
in adultery with an ugly whore, cried out, Poor man, how great was thy
necessity! Another, hearing an orator very lofty and swelling in his
speech, said, Faith, this is a brave man, how excellently he rolls his
tongue about nothing! A stranger being at Sparta, and observing how
much the young men reverenced the old, said, At Sparta alone it is
desirable to be old. A Lacedaemonian, being asked what manner of poet
Tyrtaeus was, replied, Excellent to whet the courage of our youth.
Another that had very sore eyes listed himself a soldier; when some
said to him, Poor man, whither in that condition, and what wilt thou
do in a fight? He returned, If I can do nothing else, I shall blunt
the enemies’ sword. Buris and Spertis, two Lacedaemonians, going
voluntarily to Xerxes the Persian to suffer that punishment which the
oracle had adjudged due to Sparta for killing those ambassadors the
King had sent, as soon as they came desired Xerxes to put them to death
as he pleased, that they might make satisfaction for the Spartans. But
he, surprised at this gallantry, forgave the men and desired their
service in his court; to which they replied, How can we stay here, and
leave our country, our laws, and those men for whom we came so far to
die? Indarnes the general pressing them to make peace, and promising
them equal honors with the King’s greatest favorites, they returned,
Sir, you seem to be ignorant of the value of liberty, which no man in
his wits would change for the Persian empire. A Spartan in a journey,
when a friend of his had purposely avoided him the day before, and the
next day, having obtained very rich furniture, splendidly received
him, trampled on his tapestry saying, This was the cause why I had not
so much as a mat to sleep upon last night. Another coming to Athens,
and seeing the Athenians crying salt-fish and dainties to sell up and
down the streets, others gathering taxes, keeping stews, and busied
about a thousand such dishonest trades, and looking on nothing as base
and unbecoming; after his return, when his acquaintance enquired how
things were at Athens, he replied, All well; intimating by this irony
that all things there were esteemed good and commendable, and nothing
base. Another, being questioned about something, denied it; and the
enquirer rejoining, Thou liest, he replied: And art not thou a fool to
ask me what you know yourself very well? Some Lacedaemonians being sent
ambassadors to the tyrant Lygdamis, pretending sickness he deferred
their audience a long time. They said to one of his officers, Pray,
sir, assure him that we did not come to wrestle but to treat with him.
A priest initiating a Spartan in holy mysteries asked him what was the
greatest wickedness he was ever guilty of. And he replying, The Gods
know very well, and the priest pressing him the more and saying he
must needs discover, the Spartan asked, To whom? to thee or the God?
And the priest saying, To the God, he rejoined, Then do you withdraw.
Another at night passing by a tomb and imagining he saw a ghost, made
towards it with his spear, and striking it through cried out, Whither
dost thou fly, poor twice dead ghost? Another having vowed to throw
himself headlong from the Leucadian rock, when he came to the top and
saw the vast precipice, he went down again; upon which being jeered by
an acquaintance, he said, I did not imagine that one vow needed another
that was greater. Another in a battle had his sword lifted up to kill
his enemy, but the retreat being sounded, he did not let the blow
fall; and when one asked him why, when his enemy was at his mercy, he
did not use the advantage, Because, said he, it is better to obey my
leader than kill my enemy. One saying to a Spartan that was worsted in
the Olympic games, Spartan, thy adversary was the better man; No, he
replied, but the better tripper.




OF HEARING.


_The Introduction._

1. I have sent, Nicander, the reflections of some spare hours
concerning Hearing, digested into the following short essay, that
being out of the hands of governors and come to man’s estate, you may
know how to pay a proper attention to those who would advise you. For
that libertinism which some wild young fellows, for want of more happy
education, mistake for liberty, subjects them to harder tyrants than
their late tutors and masters, even to their own vicious inclinations,
which, as it were, break loose upon them. And as Herodotus observes of
women, that they put off modesty with their shift,[182] so some young
men lay aside with the badges of minority all the sense of shame or
fear, and divested of the garment of modesty which sat so well upon
them are covered with insolence. But you, who have often heard that
to follow God and to obey reason are all one, cannot but believe that
men of best sense in passing from minority to manhood do not throw
off the government, but simply change their governor. In the room of
some mercenary pedant, they receive that divine guide and governor
of human life, reason, under whose subjection alone men are properly
said to live in freedom. For they only live at their own will who have
learned to will as they ought; and that freedom of will which appears
in unconstrained appetites and unreasonable actions is mean and narrow,
and accompanied with much repentance.

2. For as newly naturalized citizens who were entire strangers and
aliens are apt to disrelish many administrations of the government;
while those who have previously lived in the country, bred up under
the constitution and acquainted with it, act without difficulty in
their several stations, well satisfied with their condition; in like
manner, a man should for a long time have been bred up in philosophy,
and accustomed from his earliest years to receive his lessons and
instruction mingled with philosophic reason, that so he may come at
last as a kind and familiar friend to philosophy, which alone can
array young men in the perfect manly robes and ornaments of reason.
Therefore, I believe, some directions concerning hearing will not be
ill received by you.


_Remarks about Hearing in general._

Of this Theophrastus affirms, that it is the most sensitive of all the
senses. For the several objects of sight, tasting, and feeling do not
excite in us so great disturbances and alterations as the sudden and
frightful noises which assault us only at the ears. Yet in reality this
sense is more rational than sensitive. For there are many organs and
other parts of the body which serve as avenues and inlets to the soul
to give admission to vice; there is but one passage of virtue into
young minds, and that is by the ears, provided they be preserved all
along free from the corruptions of flattery and untainted with lewd
discourses. For this reason Xenocrates was of opinion that children
ought to have a defence fitted to their ears rather than fencers or
prize-players, because the ears only of the latter suffered by the
blows, but the morals of the former were hurt and maimed by words. Not
that he thereby recommended deafness, or forbade that they should be
suffered to hear at all; but he advised only that debauchery might be
kept out, till better principles, like so many guardians appointed
by philosophy, had taken charge of that part which is so liable to
be drawn aside and corrupted by discourse. And Bias of old, being
ordered by Amasis to send him the best and withal the worst part of
the sacrifice, sent the tongue; because the greatest benefits and
disadvantages are derived to us thereby. Thus again many diverting
themselves with children touch their ears, bidding them return the like
again; by which they seem to intimate to them that such best deserve
their love and esteem whose obligations enter at the ears. This is
evident, that he that has lain fallow all his days, without tasting
instruction, will not only prove barren and unfruitful of virtue,
but very inclinable to vice; for an uncultivated mind, like untilled
ground, will soon be overrun with weeds. For if that violent propensity
of the mind to pleasure, and jealousy of all that carries any show of
pain,—which proceed not from external causes or received prejudices,
but are the natural springs of evil affections and infinite diseases
of the mind,—are suffered to take their course, and not restrained,
or diverted some other way by wholesome instructions, there can be no
beast so savage that it may not be called tame and civilized in respect
of such a man.


_More General Rules about Hearing._

3. Since then it appears that hearing is of so great use and no less
danger to young men, I think it a very commendable thing for such a one
to reflect continually with himself, and consult often with others, how
he may hear with benefit. And in this particular we may observe many to
have been mistaken, that they practise speaking before they have been
used enough to hearing. Speaking they think will require some study
and attention, but hearing cannot be a thing of any difficulty. Those
indeed who play the game of tennis learn at the same time how to throw
and how to catch the ball; but in the exercise of the tongue, we ought
to practise how to talk well before we pretend to return, as conception
and retention of the foetus precede childbirth. When fowls let fall
wind-eggs, it is usually said that they are the rudiments of imperfect
fruits which will never quicken and have life; and when young men
either hear not at all or retain not what they hear, their discourse
comes from them altogether as useless and full of wind,

    And vain and unregarded turns to air.

In filling one vessel from another, they take care to incline and
turn it so that nothing be spilled, and that it may be really filling
and not emptying; but they think it not worth the heeding to regulate
their attention and apply themselves with advantage to a speaker, that
nothing of importance may fall beside or escape them. Yet, what is
beyond comparison ridiculous, if they happen upon any one who has a
knack at describing an entertainment or a show, or can relate his dream
well, or give an handsome account of a quarrel between himself and
another, such a one they hear with the greatest attention, they court
him to proceed, and importune him for every circumstance. Whereas, let
another call them about him for any thing useful, to exhort to what is
decent or reprehend what is irregular, or to make up a quarrel, they
have not temper enough to away with it, but they fight with all their
might to put him down by argument, if they are able, or if not, they
haste away to more agreeable fopperies; as if their ears, like faulty
earthen vessels, might be filled with any thing but what is useful or
valuable. But as jockeys take great care in breeding horses to bring
them to rein right and endure the bit, so such as have the care of
educating children should breed them to endure hearing, by allowing
them to speak little and hear much. And Spintharus, speaking in
commendation of Epaminondas, says he scarce ever met with any man who
knew more and spoke less. Some again make the observation, that Nature
has given every man two ears and but one tongue, as a secret intimation
that he ought to speak less than he hears.


_Directions concerning Attention._

4. Well then, silence is at all times a singular ornament of a youth,
but especially if he does not interrupt the speaker nor carp and except
at every thing he says, but patiently expects the conclusion, though
his discourse be none of the best; and when he has done, if he does not
presently come over him with an objection, but (as Aeschines directs)
allows time to add, if he please, to what has been said, or to alter,
or retract. Whereas such as turn too suddenly upon a speaker neither
hear nor are heard themselves, but senselessly chatter to one another,
and sin against the laws and rules of decorum. But he that brings along
with him a modest and unwearied attention has this advantage, that
whatever is beneficial in the discourse he makes his own, and he more
readily discovers what is false or impertinent, appearing all the while
a friend to truth rather than to squabbling or rashness. Therefore
it was not ill said, that such as design to infuse goodness into
the minds of youth must first exclude thence pride and self-conceit
more carefully than we squeeze air out of bladders which we wish to
fill with something useful; because, while they are puffed up with
arrogance, there is no room to admit any thing else.

5. Thus again, envy and detraction and prejudice are in no case good,
but always a great impediment to what is so; yet nowhere worse than
when they are made the bosom friends and counsellors of a hearer,
because they represent the best things to him as unpleasant and
impertinent, and men in such circumstances are pleased with any thing
rather than what deserves their applause. Yet he that grieves at the
wealth, glory, or beauty of any is but simply envious, for he repines
only at the good of others; but he that is ill-natured to a good
speaker is an enemy to his own happiness. For discourse to an hearer,
like light to the eye, is a great benefit, if he will make the best use
of it. Envy in all other instances carries this pretence with it, that
it is to be referred to the depraved and ungovernable affections of
the mind, but that which is conceived against a speaker arises from an
unjust presumption and vain-glorious affectation of praise.

In such a case, the man has not leisure to attend to what he hears;
his soul is in continual hurry and disturbance, at one time examining
her own habits and endowments, if any way inferior to the speaker;
anon, watching the behavior and inclination of others, if inclined to
praise or admire his discourse; disordered at the praise and enraged
at the company, if he meet with any encouragement. She easily lets
slip and willingly forgets what has been said, because the remembrance
is a pain and vexation to her; she hears what is to come with a great
deal of uneasiness and concern, and is never so desirous that the
speaker should hasten to an end, as when he discourses best. After all
is over, she considers not what was said, but has respect only to the
common vogue and disposition of the audience; she avoids and flies
like one distracted such as seem to be pleased, and herds among the
censorious and perverse. If she finds nothing to pervert, then she puts
forward other speakers, who (as she asserts) have spoken better and
with greater force of argument on the same subject. Thus, by abusing
and corrupting what was said, she defeats the use and effect of it on
herself.

6. He therefore who comes to hear must for the time come to a kind
of truce and accommodation with vain-glory, and preserve the same
evenness and cheerfulness of humor he would bring with him if he were
invited to a festival entertainment or the first-fruits’ sacrifice,
applauding the orator’s power when he speaks to the purpose, and where
he fails receiving kindly his readiness to communicate what he knows
and to persuade others by what wrought upon himself. Where he comes
off with success, he must not impute it to chance or peradventure,
but attribute all to study and diligence and art, not only admiring
but studiously emulating the like; where he has done amiss, he must
pry curiously into the causes and origin of the mistake. For what
Xenophon says of discreet house-keepers, that they make an advantage
of their enemies as well as their friends, is in some sort true of
vigilant and attentive hearers, who reap no less benefit from an ill
than a good orator. For the meanness and poverty of a thought, the
emptiness and flatness of an expression, the unseasonableness of a
figure, and the impertinence of falling into a foolish ecstasy of joy
or commendation, and the like, are better discovered by a by-stander
than by the speaker himself. Therefore his oversight or indiscretion
must be brought home to ourselves, that we may examine if nothing of
the same kind has skulked there and imposed on us all the while. For
there is nothing in the world more easy than to discover the faults
of others; but it is done to no effect if we do not make it useful to
ourselves in correcting and avoiding the like failures. When therefore
you animadvert upon other men’s miscarriages, forget not to put that
question of Plato to yourself, Am not I such another? We must trace out
our own way of writing in the discourses of other men, as in another’s
eyes we see the reflection of our own; that we may learn not to be too
free in censuring others, and may use more circumspection ourselves in
speaking. To this design the following method of comparison may be very
instrumental; if upon our return from hearing we take what seemed to
us not well or sufficiently handled, and attempt it afresh ourselves,
endeavoring to fill out one part or correct another, to vary this
or model that into a new form from the very beginning. And thus
Plato examined the oration of Lysias. For it is a thing of no great
difficulty to raise objections against another man’s oration,—nay,
it is a very easy matter,—but to produce a better in its place is a
work extremely troublesome; as the Spartan, who was told Philip had
demolished the city Olynthus, made this reply, But he cannot raise such
another. When then it appears, upon handling the same topic, that we do
not much excel those who undertook it before, this will abate much of
our censorious humor, and our pride and self-conceit will be exposed
and checked by such comparisons.


_Caution about Admiration._

7. To contempt is opposed admiration, which indeed argues a more
candid and better disposition; but even in this case no small care is
to be observed, and perhaps even greater. For although such as are
contemptuous and self-conceited receive but little good from what they
hear, yet the good-natured and such as are given to admire every thing
take a great deal of harm. And Heraclitus was not mistaken when he said
that a fool was put in a flutter at every thing he heard. We ought
indeed to use all the candor imaginable in praising the speaker, yet
withal as great caution in yielding our assent to what he says; to look
upon his expression and action with a favorable construction, but to
inspect the usefulness and truth of his doctrine with the nicest and
most critical judgment; that speakers may cease to be malicious, and
that what they say may do no mischief. For many false and dangerous
principles steal upon us through the authority of the speaker and our
own credulity. The Spartan Ephors, approving the judgment of one of
an ill conversation, ordered it to be communicated to the people by a
person of better life and reputation; thereby wisely and politicly
using them to give more deference to the morals than to the words of
such as pretend to advise them. But now in philosophy the reputation
of the speaker must be pulled off, and his words examined naked and
without a mask; for in hearing as in war there are many false alarms.
The hoary head of the speaker or his gesture, his magisterial look
or his assuming pride, and above all the noise and clapping of the
auditory, bear great sway with a raw and inexperienced hearer, who is
easily carried away with the tide. The very expression, if sweet and
full and representing things with some pomp and greatness, has a secret
power to impose upon us. For, as many lapses in such as sing to an
instrument escape the hearers, so luxuriancy and pomp of style dazzle
the hearer so that he cannot see clearly the argument in hand. And
Melanthius, as it is said, being asked his opinion concerning a tragedy
of Diogenes, made answer that the words intercepted his sight of it.
But most Sophists in their declamations and speeches not only make use
of words to veil and muffle their design; but with affected tone and
softness of voice they draw aside and bewitch their followers, for the
empty pleasure which they create reaping a more empty glory. So that
the saying of Dionysius is very applicable to them, who, being one day
extremely pleased with an harper that played excellently well before
him, promised the fellow a great reward, yet afterwards would give him
nothing, pretending he had kept his word; For, said he, as long as you
pleased me by your playing, so long were you pleased by hope of the
reward. And such also is the reward this kind of harangues bring to the
authors. The hearers admire as long as they are pleased and tickled,
but the satisfaction on one hand and glory on the other conclude with
the oration; and the hearers lose their time idly, and the speakers
their whole life.


_How to separate the Useful Part of a Discourse._

8. No, we must separate the trash and trumpery of an oration, that we
may come at the more fruitful and useful part; not imitating those
women who busy themselves in gathering nosegays and making garlands,
but the more useful industry of bees. The former indeed plat and weave
together the sweetest and gayest flowers, and their skill is mighty
pretty; but it lasts for one day only, and even then is of little or
no use; whereas the bees, passing by the beds of violets and roses and
hyacinth, fix on the prickly and biting thyme, and settle upon this
“intent on the yellow honey,”[183] and taking thence what they need
for their work, they fly home laden. In like manner, a well-meaning
sincere hearer ought to pass by the flowers of an oration, leaving
the gaudy show and theatrical part to entertain dronish Sophists;
and, diving into the very mind of the speaker and the sense of his
speech, he must draw thence what is necessary for his own service;
remembering withal that he is not come to the theatre or music-meeting,
but is present at the schools and auditories of philosophy, to learn
to rectify his way of life by what he hears. In order thereunto, he
ought to inspect diligently and try faithfully the state and temper of
his mind after hearing, if any of his affections are more moderate, if
any afflictions grow lighter, if his constancy and greatness of spirit
are confirmed, if he feels any divine emotions or inward workings of
virtue and goodness upon his soul. For it becomes us but ill, when we
rise from the barber’s chair, to be so long in consulting the mirror,
or to stroke our heads and examine so curiously the style in which our
hair is trimmed and dressed, and then, at our return from hearing in
the schools, to think it needless to look into ourselves, or examine
whether our own mind has discharged any turbulent or unprofitable
affections and is grown more sedate and serene. For, as Ariston was
wont to say, The bath and a discourse are of no use unless they are
purgative.

9. Let then a young man be pleased and entertained with a discourse;
but let him not make his pleasure the only end of hearing, nor think
he may come from the school of a philosopher singing and sportive; nor
let him call for perfumes and essences when he has need of a poultice
and fomentations. But let him learn to be thankful to him that purges
away the darkness and stupidity of his mind, though (as we clear
beehives by smoking) with an offensive or unpalatable discourse. For
though it lies upon a speaker to take some care that his expression be
pleasing and plausible, yet a hearer ought not to make that the first
thing he looks after. Afterward, indeed, when he has satisfied his
appetite with the substance and has taken breath, he may be allowed
the curiosity of examining the style and expression, whether it has
any thing delicate or extraordinary; as men quench their thirst before
they have time to admire the embossing of the bowl. But now such a one
as is not intent on the subject-matter, but demands merely that the
style shall be plain and pure Attic, is much of his foolish humor who
refuses an antidote unless it be mixed in Attic porcelain, or who will
not put on a coat in the winter because the cloth is not made of Attic
wool; but who can yet sit still, doing nothing and stirring not, under
such a thin and threadbare cloak as an oration of Lysias. That extreme
dearth of judgment and good sense, and that abundance of subtilty
and sophistry which is crept into the schools, is all owing to these
corruptions of the youngsters; who, observing neither the lives nor
public conversation of philosophers, mind nothing but words and jingle,
and express themselves extravagantly upon what they think well said,
without ever understanding or enquiring if it be useful and necessary,
or needless and vain.


_Of asking Questions._

10. After this, it will be convenient to lay down some directions
touching asking of questions. For it is true, he that comes to a great
collation must eat what is set before him, not rudely calling for what
is not to be had nor finding fault with the provision. But he that
is invited to partake of a discourse, if it be with that proviso,
must hear with silence; for such disagreeable hearers as occasion
digressions by asking impertinent questions and starting foolish
doubts are an hindrance both to the speaker and the discourse, without
benefiting themselves. But when the speaker encourages them to propose
their objections, he must take care that the question be of some
consequence. The suitors in Homer scorned and derided Ulysses.—

    To no brave prize aspired the worthless swain,
    ’Twas but for scraps he asked, and asked in vain,[184]

because they thought it required a great and heroic soul no less to
ask than to bestow great gifts. But there is much better reason to
slight and laugh at such a hearer as can please himself in asking
little trifling questions. Thus some young fellows, to proclaim their
smattering in logic and mathematics, upon all occasions enquire
about the divisibility of the infinite, or about motion through a
diagonal or upon the sides. But we may answer them with Philotimus,
who, being asked by a consumptive phthisical person for a remedy
against a whitlow, and perceiving the condition he was in by his
color and his shortness of breath, replied, Sir, you have no reason
to be apprehensive of that. So we must tell them, You have no reason,
young gentlemen, to trouble yourselves about these questions; but
how to shake off your conceit and arrogance, to have done with your
intrigues and fopperies, and to settle immediately upon a modest and
well-governed course of life, is the question for you.

11. Great regard is to be had also to the genius and talent of a
speaker, that we may enquire about such things as are in his way, and
not take him out of his knowledge; as if one should propose physical or
mathematical queries to a moral philosophy reader, or apply himself to
one who prides himself on his knowledge of physics to give his opinion
on conditional propositions or to resolve a fallacy in logic. For,
as he that goes about to cleave wood with a key or to unlock a door
with an axe does not so much mis-employ those instruments as deprive
himself of the proper use of them, so such as are not content with what
a speaker offers them, but call for such things as he is a stranger
to, not only are disappointed, but incur the suspicion of malice and
ill-nature.

12. Be cautious also how you ask questions yourself, or ask too often;
for that betrays somewhat of conceit and ostentation. But to wait
civilly while another proposes his scruples argues a studious spirit
and willingness that others should be informed, unless some sudden
perturbation of mind require to be repressed or some distemper to
be assuaged. For perhaps, as Heraclitus says, it is an ill thing to
conceal even a man’s ignorance; it must be laid open, that the remedy
may be applied. So also if anger or superstition or a violent quarrel
with your domestics or the mad passion of love,—

    Which doth the very heart-strings move,
    That ne’er were stirred before,—

excite any commotion in your mind, you are not, for fear of being
galled by reproof, to fly to such as are treating of other arguments;
but you must frequent those places where your particular case is
stating, and after lecture address yourself privately to the speaker
for better information and fuller satisfaction therein. On the
contrary, men commonly flatter themselves, and admire the philosopher
so long as he discourses of indifferent things; but if he come home
to themselves and deal freely with them about their real interests,
this they think is beyond all enduring, or at best a needless piece
of supererogation. For they naturally think that they ought to
hear philosophy in the schools, like actors on the stage, while in
matters out of the school they believe them to be no better men than
themselves; and, to confess the truth, they have but reason to think so
of many Sophists, who, having once left the desk and laid aside their
books, in the serious concerns of human life are utterly insignificant
and even more ignorant than the vulgar. But they do not know that even
the austerity or raillery of real philosophers, their very nod or look,
their smile or frown, and especially their admonitions directed to
particular persons, are of weighty importance to such as can brook or
attend to them.


_Directions concerning Praising._

13. As for commendation, some caution and mean is to be observed in it;
because to be either deficient or excessive in that particular shows
a base spirit. He is but a morose and rigid hearer whom no part of an
oration can work upon or move, one who is full of a secret presumptuous
opinion of himself, and of an inbred conceit that he could do better
things himself; one who dares not alter his countenance as occasion
requires, or let fall the least word to testify his good wishes, but
with silence and affected gravity hunts after the reputation of a
sagacious and profound person, and thinks that all the praise is lost
to himself which he bestows on others, as if it were money. For many
wrest that sentence of Pythagoras, who used to say that he had learned
by philosophy to admire nothing; but these men think that to admire
nobody and to honor nobody consists in despising everybody, and they
aim at seeming grave by being contemptuous. Philosophy indeed removes
that foolish admiration and surprise which proceeds from doubt or
ignorance, by laying open to us the causes of things, but endeavors not
to destroy all good-nature and humanity. And those who are truly good
take it for their greatest honor and commendation to be just in paying
honor and commendation where it is due to others; and for a man to
adorn another is a most glorious ornament, proceeding from a generous
abundance of glory and honor in himself; while those who are niggardly
in praising others only betray how poor and bare they are of praises at
home.


_Not to be too prone to commend._

Yet to use no consideration at all, but to stand up and make a
clamor at every word or syllable, is to offend in the other extreme.
Such fluttering fellows for the most part oblige not the speakers
themselves, and are always a plague and common grievance to the
hearers, exciting them many times against their inclination, and
forcing them for very shame to join in the tumult. In the end, he that
raised the disturbance receives no benefit by the discourse, but goes
away with the character of a scoffer or flatterer or novice. A judge,
it is true, ought to hear and determine without favor or ill-will,
regarding only what is just and equitable; but in philosophical
proceedings the case is altered, where neither law nor oaths tie us up
from being favorable to the speaker. And the ancients in their temples
were wont to place the statue of Mercury among the Graces, intimating
that orators ought to find a propitious and good-natured audience. For
they thought it passed all belief, that any man could prove so much a
blockhead or come so wide of the purpose, that, though he should make
no remarks of his own and quote none of others worthy taking notice
of, or though the argument and design of his discourse might not be
commendable, yet at least the order and disposition or the style should
not deserve some applause;—

    As oft amidst the furze and thorny brakes
    The tender violets more securely peep.

For if some have undertaken successfully to speak in commendation of
vomiting or a fever, and have even made an encomium on a porridge-pot
not without some acceptance, certainly a discourse from one that has
the least pretence to philosophy cannot but afford some opportunity,
though it be a slight one, for commendation to a well-disposed
auditory. Plato says that all who are in their bloom in some way
excite the amorous man;—the fair are the children of the Gods, the
black are manly, the hook-nosed have a look of majesty, the flat-nose
gives a graceful air, even the sallow complexion is complimented for
looking like honey; in spite of all their defects, he cherishes and
loves them all.[185] Thus love, like ivy, must needs find something or
other to lay hold on. But much more will a studious hearer and scholar
be sure to find some not unworthy reason for praising every speaker.
For Plato in an oration of Lysias, disliking the invention and utterly
condemning the disposition as confused, yet praised the style and
elocution, because every word was wrought off cleverly and cleanly
turned. Thus a man may see cause enough to disapprove the argument of
Archilochus, the verse of Parmenides, the poverty of Phocylides, the
eternal talk of Euripides, and inequality of style in Sophocles; and
among the orators, one has no manner, another is not moving, a third
has nothing of ornament; yet every one has his peculiar power of moving
and exciting, for which he is praised. Some again do not require of
us to testify our acceptance by the voice; a pleasing eye or cheerful
look, or a behavior without any thing of pain or uneasiness, is all
that they desire. For the following favors are nowadays bestowed of
course upon every oration, though the speaker may speak to no purpose
at all,—sitting modestly without lolling from one side to the other,
looking earnestly on the speaker, in the posture of an attentive
listener, and with a countenance which betrays not only no contempt or
ill-will but not even a mind otherwise employed. For as the beauty and
excellence of every thing consists in the concurrence of many different
accidents, which contribute to the symmetry and harmony of the whole,
so that, if but one inconsiderable part be away or absurdly added,
deformity immediately follows; in like manner, not only a supercilious
look or forbidding mien or roving eyes or waving the body to and fro or
indecent crossing of the legs, but even a nod, a whisper to another, a
scornful smile, a sleepy yawn, hanging of the head, or the like, are
all likewise great indecorums and to be avoided with particular care.

14. Yet some there are who can assign a speaker his part, and think no
duty incumbent on themselves all the while; who will have him prepare
and premeditate what he has to deliver, and yet throw themselves into
an auditory without any preparation or consideration, as if they were
invited to a feast, to revel and take their pleasures at another’s
cost. Yet it is known that even a guest has some things required of him
to make him suitable and agreeable, and certainly a hearer has much
more; because he ought to be a sharer in the discourse and an assistant
to the speaker. Neither will it become him to be severe at all turns
upon every slight miscarriage or perpetually putting the speaker’s
elocution and action to the test, while he himself is guilty of grosser
enormities in hearing, without danger or control. But as at tennis he
that takes the ball turns and winds his body according to the motion
of the server, so a kind of proportion is to be observed between the
speaker and the hearer, if both will discharge their several duties.


_Care to be observed in Praising Persons of all Qualities._

15. Neither ought we to use any expressions of praise indifferently.
For it is an ill thing which Epicurus relates, that, upon reading any
epistles from his friends, those about him broke out into tumultuous
applauses; and such as daily introduce new forms into our auditories,
as Divinely said! Superhuman! Inimitable! (as if those used by
Plato, Socrates, and Hyperides, Well! Wisely! Truly said! were not
sufficiently expressive), exceed the bounds of decency and modesty,
nay indeed, do but affront the speaker, as though he were fond of such
extravagant praises. Nor are they less odious and troublesome who
confirm approbation with impertinent oaths, as if they were giving
their testimony for a speaker in a court of judicature. And so likewise
is it with such as observe not to give just deference to the quality
of persons, who to a philosopher are apt to cry out, Smartly said! or
to a reverend gentleman, Wittily! Floridly! applying to philosophy
such trifles as are proper to scholastic exercises and declamations,
and giving meretricious applause to a sober discourse,—as if a man
should compliment the conqueror in the Olympic games with a garland of
lilies or roses, instead of laurel or wild olive. Euripides the poet
one day at a rehearsal instructing the chorus in a part that was set
to a serious air, one of the company unexpectedly fell out a laughing;
Sir, said he, unless you were very stupid and insensible, you could
not laugh while I sing in the grave mixolydian mood. In like manner a
master of philosophy and politics may put a stop to the unseasonable
levity and pertness of a youngster, by telling him, You seem to be a
madman and unacquainted with all manner of civility, otherwise you
would not hum over your tunes or practise your new steps while I am
discoursing of Gods, or the laws, or the supreme magistrate. For
consider seriously what a very scandalous thing it is that, while a
philosopher is in his discourse, the passengers in the street, from
the clamor and hooting of the hearers, should have reason to make it
a question whether some piper or harper or morris-dancer were got in
among them.


_Of bearing Admonitions and Reproofs._

16. Admonitions and reprimands ought to be taken neither altogether
insensibly nor yet sheepishly. For such as carry off a disgrace from
a philosopher carelessly and without due concern, so as to grin at
his reprehensions or scoffingly to praise him for them, as sharping
parasites applaud the scurrilous reflection of their cullies,—such,
I say, are shameless and insolent, and betray only their invincible
impudence, which is no good or true argument of courage. Yet to
bear handsomely without passion an innocent jest in raillery is not
unbecoming the breeding of a gentleman, but a good accomplishment and
altogether worthy of a Spartan. But when an exhortation to amendment
of manners, like a bitter potion, is made up of harsh and unpleasant
words, in such a case for a youth—instead of hearing submissively
and running into a sweat or being seized with dizziness, when the
mind is on fire with shame and confusion—to remain unmoved or sneer
or dissemble his concernment is the certain sign of a dissolute and
ill-bred man, one whose soul, like callous flesh, being hardened with
a course of debauchery, will receive no scar or impression. Some young
men indeed there are of a contrary disposition, who having undergone
one rebuke fly off without ever looking back, turn renegades, and
quite desert philosophy. These being naturally very modest have a
good disposition toward an healthful habit of mind, but vitiate it by
too much tenderness and effeminacy, which disables them for bearing
a reproof or manfully submitting to a correction, and run after more
pleasing harangues wherewith some flatterers and Sophists soothe and
bewitch them, without any benefit or advantage. For as he that flies
from the surgeon after incision, and will not suffer the ligature to
be applied, endures that part of his skill only which is painful,
rejecting what would give him ease; so such a one as being lanced and
scarified by a sharp oration has not patience till the wound be skinned
over, goes away from philosophy tortured and harassed, without that
benefit he might receive thereby. For not only Telephus’s wound was
cured by rusty filings of the spear (as Euripides has it), but whatever
pain philosophy may occasion to a meek disposition will be cured and
removed by the same discourse that gave the wound. He therefore that is
reprehended must endure awhile and away with some pain, not presently
be discouraged or out of heart. Let him behave himself as though he
were to be initiated into the mysteries of philosophy, still hoping,
after the lustrations and more troublesome ceremonies are undergone,
he shall enjoy some considerable effect of his present troubles and
inconveniences. Or suppose he be wrongfully chidden, it is but handsome
to expect the conclusion; after that he may make his defence, and
desire that such freedom and violence may be reserved to repress some
other misdemeanor which really deserves it.


_The Difficulties in Philosophy vincible._

17. But besides this,—as in grammar, music, and the exercises of
activity, there are many things which to young beginners appear
troublesome, laborious, and obscure, which yet a fuller knowledge, like
acquaintance among men, makes more agreeable, ready, and feasible,—in
like manner, though philosophy in its first terms and notions may
seem uncouth and strange, yet a man must not be so far discouraged at
the first elements as to throw it up altogether, but he must bid at
all and ply his business hard and patiently expect that acquaintance
which will make all easy and pleasant; and that will not be long in
coming, bringing great light into things and exciting ardent affections
to virtue; without which to endure to live, after one has through
his own effeminacy fallen from philosophy, is an argument of a mean
spirit and servile disposition. I must confess there is some difficulty
in the things themselves which is not easily conquered by raw and
unexperienced beginners; yet the greatest part of the difficulty they
bring upon themselves by their own ignorance and inadvertency, falling
into the same error from two contrary causes. For some, out of a
foolish bashfulness and desire to be easy to the speaker, are loath to
be inquisitive or have the thing made plain to them, and so they nod
their assent to every thing that is said, as if they fully comprehended
it. And others out of unseasonable vain-glory, and vying with their
fellows that they may vaunt their readiness of wit and quickness of
apprehension, pretend to understand things before they do, and never
understand them at all. Now the consequence in both cases is this; the
modest go away in a great deal of anxiety and doubt, and are forced in
the end, with greater disgrace, to interrupt the speaker to be informed
again; and the vain-glorious are troubled to keep close and conceal the
ignorance they carry about them.

18. Therefore all such sheepishness and self-conceit being set aside,
let us learn to lay up in our minds whatever is usefully said, enduring
to be laughed at by such as set up for wits and railers. This course
took Cleanthes and Xenocrates, who being somewhat slower than their
fellows did not therefore give over hearing or despond; but prevented
the jests of others, by comparing themselves to narrow-mouthed vessels
and to copper plates; because, though they received learning with some
difficulty, yet they retained it surely. For he that will be a good man
must not only, as Phocylides says,—

    Expect much fraud, and many a time be caught,—

but be laughed at and disgraced, and endure many scurrilous and
virulent reflections; he must also encounter ignorance and wrestle with
it with all the strength of his mind, and subdue it too.

Neither on the other hand must the faults be passed by which some
troublesome people commit out of mere laziness and negligence; such
men as will not bestow any pains in considering themselves, but asking
often the same questions are a perpetual vexation to the speaker;
like callow birds always gaping at the bill of the old one, and still
reaching after what has been prepared and worked over by others.
Another sort there are, who, affecting the reputation of quickness
and attention, confound the speaker with their pragmatical curiosity
and jargon, always haling in something unnecessary and requiring
demonstrations of things foreign to the business in hand.

    Thus a short way is long and tedious made,

as Sophocles[186] says, and that not only to themselves, but others
also. For by taking off the speaker with vain and unnecessary questions
they retard the progress of instruction, like travellers in the road,
by impertinent halts and stops. Hieronymus compares these men to lazy
and greedy curs, which within doors bite and tear the skins of wild
animals and lie tugging at their shaggy hair, but in the field dare not
fasten upon beasts themselves.


_A Concluding Exhortation._

Yet one exhortation let me leave with these people, that having
received the general heads of things they would supply the rest by
their own industry, making their memory a guide to their invention;
and that, looking on the discourse of others only as a kind of first
principle or seed, they would take care to cherish and increase it.
For the mind requires not like an earthen vessel to be filled up;
convenient fuel and aliment only will inflame it with a desire of
knowledge and ardent love of truth. Now, as it would be with a man who,
going to his neighbor’s to borrow fire and finding there a great and
bright fire, should sit down to warm himself and forget to go home; so
is it with the one who comes to another to learn, if he does not think
himself obliged to kindle his own fire within and inflame his own mind,
but continues sitting by his master as if he were enchanted, delighted
by hearing. Such a one, although he may get the name of a philosopher,
as we get a bright color by sitting by the fire, will never clear
away the mould and rust of his mind, and dispel the darkness of his
understanding by the help of philosophy. In fine, if there is any
other precept concerning hearing, it is briefly this, to be careful
in observing the last exhortation,—that is, to join the exercise of
our invention to our hearing; that so, while we lay down the rule that
hearing well is the first step to living well, we may not content
ourselves with a superficial commonplace knowledge, but endeavor after
such a philosophical habit as shall be deeply imprinted on the mind.




OF LARGE ACQUAINTANCE; OR, AN ESSAY TO PROVE THE FOLLY OF SEEKING MANY
FRIENDS.


1. Menon the Thessalian, a person who had no mean opinion of his
own parts, who thought himself well accomplished in all the arts of
discourse and to have reached (as Empedocles words it) the highest
pitch of wisdom, was asked by Socrates, What is virtue? And he answered
readily enough, and as impertinently, that there is one virtue
belonging to childhood, another to old age; that there are distinct
virtues in men and women, magistrates and private persons, masters and
servants. Excellently well! replied Socrates in raillery, when you were
asked about one virtue, you have raised, as it were, a whole swarm;
conjecturing, not without reason, that the man therefore named many
because he knew the nature of none. And may not we ourselves expect
and deserve as justly to be scoffed and rallied, who having not yet
contracted one firm friendship seem nevertheless exceeding cautious of
too many? It is almost the same thing as if one maimed and blind should
appear solicitous lest like Briareus he may chance to be furnished
with a hundred hands, and become all over eyes like Argus. However, we
cannot but extol the sense of that young man in Menander the poet, who
said that he counted every man wonderfully honest and happy who had
found even the shadow of a friend.

2. But all the difficulty lies in finding him; and the chiefest reason
is that, instead of one choice true friend, nothing under a multitude
will content us; like women of the town who admit the embraces of all
gallants that come, at the gay appearance of the last which comes we
neglect and slight the former, and so are unable to hold them. Or
rather, like the foster-child of Hypsipyle, who “in a green meadow
sat cropping the flowers one after another, snatching each prize
with delighted heart, insatiable in his childish joy,”[187]—so we
of riper years, from an inbred affection of novelty and disdain of
things already possessed, take up presently with the first promising
aspect of every fresh and new-blooming friend, and lay all at once the
foundations of several acquaintances; but we leave each unfinished, and
when we have scarce fixed on one, our love immediately palls there,
while we passionately pursue some other.

Wherefore, in this affair,—to begin at the beginning (at the domestic
altar, as the saying is),—let us ask the opinion and counsel of our
forefathers, and consider what report the records of antiquity make
concerning true friends. They are, we find, always reckoned in pairs;
as Theseus and Pirithous, Achilles and Patroclus, Orestes and Pylades,
Phintias and Damon, Epaminondas and Pelopidas. Friendship (so to speak)
is a creature sociable, but affects not a herd or a flock; and that we
usually esteem a friend another self, and call him ἑταῖρος (companion)
as much as to say ἕτερος (the other one), is a convincing argument that
the number two is the adequate and complete measure of friendship. And
in truth, a great number of friends or servants is not to be purchased
at an easy rate. That which procures love and friendship in the world
is a sweet and obliging temper of mind, a lively readiness in doing
good offices, together with a constant habit of virtue; than which
qualifications nothing is more rarely found in nature. Therefore to
love and to be beloved much can have no place in a multitude; but the
most eager affection, if divided among numerous objects, like a river
divided into several channels, must needs flow at length very weak and
languid. Upon this score, those animals love their young most which
generate but one; and Homer, describing a beloved child, calls it the
only-begotten and born in old age,—that is, at such a time when the
parents neither have nor hope for another.[188]

3. Yet I do not assert we ought to confine ourselves to one only
friend; but among the rest, there should be one eminently so, like
a well-beloved and only son, not casually picked up at a tavern or
eating-house or in a tennis-court, nor at a game of hazard, nor at an
accidental meeting in the wrestling-place or the market,—as is too
common nowadays,—but one chosen upon long and mature deliberation,
with whom (according to that celebrated proverb) we have eaten a bushel
of salt.

The palaces of noble men and princes appear guarded with splendid
retinues of diligent obsequious servants, and every room is crowded
with a throng of visitors, who caress the great man with all the
endearing gestures and expressions that wit and breeding can invent;
and it may be thought, I confess, at first sight, that such are very
fortunate in having so many cordial, real friends at their command;
whereas it is all bare pageantry and show. Change the scene, and you
may observe a far greater number of flies as industriously busy in
their kitchens; and as these would vanish, were the dishes empty and
clean, so neither would that other sort of insect pay any farther
respect, were nothing to be got by it.

There are chiefly these requisites to a true friendship: virtue, as a
thing lovely and desirable; familiarity, as pleasant; and advantage,
as necessary. For we must first choose a friend upon a right judgment
made of his excellent qualities; having chosen him, we must perceive a
pleasure in his conversation, and upon occasion he must be useful to us
in our concerns. All which (especially judgment in our choice, the main
point of all) are inconsistent with a numerous acquaintance.

And first of all (to draw a parallel in other matters), if there is no
small time required to select a great many persons together who can
dance and sing in exact time to the same tune, manage oars with a like
strength and vigor, be fit stewards of our estates or tutors of our
children, certainly we must acknowledge it much more difficult to meet
with a considerable number of friends, ready to enter with us the trial
of all manner of fortune, of whom every one will

    Of his good fortune yield thy part to thee,
    And bear like part of thy calamity.

Even a ship at sea runs not the risk of so many storms, nor are any
castles, forts, and havens secured with walls, ramparts, and dams
against the apprehension of so many dangers, as are the misfortunes
against which a constant approved friendship mutually undertakes to
afford a defence and refuge. Whoever without due trial put themselves
upon us for friends we examine as bad money; and the cheat being
discovered, we are glad if of their own accord they withdraw; or if
they persist, at least we wish with great impatience fairly to get rid
of them.[189] Yet we must own it is a hard and troublesome task to
cast off a disagreeable acquaintance; for as unwholesome meats which
nauseate the stomach can neither be retained without hazard of health,
nor yet ejected sincere as they were taken, but wholly disguised and
defiled with other humors; so a mistaken false friend must either be
still entertained, and remain a mere vexation to us as well as uneasy
to himself, or else by a kind of convulsion be thrown up like bile,
leaving behind the continual torment of private grudgings and hatred.

4. Therefore it highly concerns us not to be too rash in fastening on
the next that may accidentally offer, nor presently to affect every one
that pretends to be fond of our friendship. Let the search rather begin
on our own part, and our choice fix on those who approve themselves
really worthy of our respect. What is cheap and with ease obtained is
below our notice; and we trample under foot bushes and brambles that
readily catch hold of us, while we diligently clear our way to the
vine and olive; so it is always best not to admit to our familiarity
persons who officiously stick and twist themselves about us, but we
ought rather of our own accord to court the friendship of those who are
worthy of our regard, and who prove advantageous to ourselves.

5. Therefore, as Zeuxis replied to some who blamed the slowness of his
pencil,—that he therefore spent a long time in painting, because he
designed his work should last for a long eternity,—so he that would
secure a lasting friendship and acquaintance must first deliberately
judge and thoroughly try its worth, before he settles it. Suppose then
it is hard to make a right judgment in choosing many friends together,
it may still be asked whether we may not maintain a familiarity with
many persons, or whether that too is impossible. Now familiarity and
converse are the genuine products and enjoyments of true friendship,
and the highest pleasure the best friends aim at is continual
intercourse and the daily frequenting one another’s company.

    No more shall meet Achilles and his friend;
    No more our thoughts to those we loved make known,
    Or quit the dearest, to converse alone.[190]

And, as Menelaus says of Ulysses:—

    There with commutual zeal we both had strove
    In acts of dear benevolence and love,—
    Brothers in peace, not rivals in command,—
    And death alone dissolved the friendly band.[191]

Now much acquaintance has a clear contrary effect; and whereas single
friendship by kind discourses and good offices cements, unites, and
condenses as it were two parties,—

    As when the fig-tree’s juice curdles and binds white milk,[192]

as Empedocles says; this on the other hand unties, rends, and breaks
the bond, distracts our inclinations with too much variety; and the
agreeable just mixture of affection, the very cement of true friends,
is wholly lost in so loose and confused a conversation. Hence at once
arises great inequality with respect to the services of friendship,
and a foolish diffidence in the performance of them. For multiplicity
of friends renders those very parts of friendship vain and useless
whence advantage was most expected; neither can we hope it should be
otherwise, if we consider how “one man is acted upon by his nature and
another by his cares and anxieties.” Nature hath not bestowed the same
inclinations on all, nor are we all born to the same fortune; and the
occasions of our actions, like the wind, may often favor one of our
acquaintance while they stand cross to another.

6. However, suppose by great chance all should agree to crave
assistance in the same affair, whether at a consult, exercise of a
public trust in the government, canvassing for preferment, entertaining
guests, or the like; yet it is exceeding hard to satisfy all. But now
if they are engaged in diverse concerns at the very same moment of
time, and every one should make his particular request to you, one
to take a voyage with him, another to assist in pleading his cause, a
third to prosecute a criminal, a fourth to help in managing his trade,
another to celebrate his wedding, and another to attend a funeral,—

    And the whole city’s filled with incense smoke,
    And songs of triumph mixt with groans resound;[193]

I say, in this case, it is utterly impossible to answer the requests
of all, to gratify none is absurd, and to serve only one and disoblige
the rest is a thing grievous and intolerably rude;—“for no one, when
he loves a friend, will bear to be neglected.”[194] If indeed you could
persuade that inadvertency was the cause of the omission, you might
more easily hope a pardon; and to plead forgetfulness is a sort of
excuse which perhaps might pass without much angering your friend; but
to allege “I could not be advocate in your cause, being of counsel for
another,” or “I could not visit you in a fever, because I was invited
to a feast elsewhere,” while it is thus confessed that we neglect one
friend to pay our respects to another, is so far from extenuating the
offence, that it highly aggravates it, and adds all the jealousies of
rivalry.

But commonly men overlook these and such like inconveniences of a
numerous acquaintance, and take only a prospect of its advantages, not
in the least reflecting that whoever employs many assistants in his
affairs must in gratitude repay his service to as many when they need
it; and as Briareus, who with his hundred hands was daily obliged for
his bare subsistence to feed fifty stomachs, could thrive no better
than ourselves, who supply a single one with two hands, so a man of
many friends cannot boast any other privilege but that of being a slave
to many, and of sharing in all the business, cares, and disquiet that
may befall them. Nor can Euripides help him by advising that

                        Best suited to the state
    Of mortal life are mutual friendships formed
    With moderation, such as take not root
    Deep in the soul, affections that with ease
    May be relaxed, or closer bound at will,[195]

that is, we may pull in and let out our friendships like a sail, as the
wind happens to blow. Let us rather, good Euripides, turn this saying
of yours to enmity; for heats and animosities ought to be moderate, and
never reach the inmost recesses of the soul; hatred, anger, complaints,
and jealousies may with good reason be readily appeased and forgotten.
Therefore it is far more advisable, as Pythagoras directs, “not to
shake hands with too many,”—that is, not to make many friends,—nor to
affect that popular kind of easiness which courts and embraces every
acquaintance that occurs, but carries with it on the reverse a thousand
mischiefs; among which (as was before hinted) to bear part of the same
cares, to be affected with the same sorrows, and to be embroiled in the
same enterprises and dangers with any great number of friends will be a
sort of life hardly tolerable even to the most ingenuous and generous
tempers. What Chilon the wise man remarked to one who said he had no
enemies, namely, “Thou seemest rather to have no friends,” has a great
deal of truth; for enmities always keep pace and are interwoven with
friendships.

7. And it is impossible any should be friends that resent not mutually
the affronts and injuries offered unto either, and that do not hate
alike and in common. They also who are enemies to yourself will
presently suspect and hate your friend; nay, your other friends too
will often envy, calumniate, and undermine him. Wherefore what the
oracle foretold Timesias concerning his planting a colony, that an hive
of bees should be changed into a nest of wasps, may not impertinently
be applied to those who seek after a hive of friends, but light before
they know it upon a wasps-nest of enemies.

Besides, we should do well to consider that the kindest affections
of friends seldom compensate for the misfortunes that befall us from
the malice of enemies. It is well known how Alexander treated the
familiars of Philotas and Parmenio; Dionysius, those of Dion; Nero,
those of Plautus; and Tiberius, those of Sejanus; all shared the same
hard fate of being racked and tortured to death. For as the gold and
riches Creon’s daughter was adorned with could not secure the good old
father from being consumed in her flames, endeavoring too officiously
to rescue her; so not a few partake of the calamities and ruin of
their friends, before they have reaped the least advantage from their
prosperity; a misfortune to which philosophers and the best-natured men
are the most liable. This was the case of Theseus, who for the sake
of his dear Pirithous shared his punishment, and was bound with him
in the same eternal chains.[196] Thus in the plague of Athens, says
Thucydides,[197] the most generous and virtuous citizens, while without
regard to their own safety they visited their sick, frequently perished
with their friends.

8. Such accidents as these ought to admonish us not to be too prodigal
of our virtue, nor inconsiderately to prostitute our perfections to the
enjoyment of every little thing that pretends to be our humble admirer;
rather let us reserve them for the worthy, for those who can love
and share another’s joys and sorrows like ourselves. And truly, this
alone renders it most unlikely that many men should remain friends,
that real friendship has always its origin from likeness. For, we
may observe, even brute and inanimate beings affect their like, very
readily mixing and uniting with those of their own nature; while with
great reluctance and a kind of indignation they shrink from and avoid
whatever differs from themselves, and force can scarce oblige them to
the loathed embraces. By what motive then can we imagine any league of
amity can be kept inviolable amidst a multitude, where manners admit of
so much variety, where desires and humors will be perpetually jarring,
where the several courses of life must needs be almost as unlike as
constitutions and faces? A musical concord consists of contrary sounds,
and a due composition of flat and sharp notes makes a delightful tune;
but as for friendship, that is a sort of harmony all of a piece, and
admits not the least inequality, unlikeness, or discords of parts, but
here all discourses, opinions, inclinations, and designs serve one
common interest, as if several bodies were acted and informed by the
same soul.

9. Now is there any person living of that industrious, pliant, and
universal humor, who can take the pains exactly to imitate all shapes,
and will not rather deride the advice of Theognis[198] as absurd and
impossible, namely, to learn the craft of the polypus, which puts on
the hue of every stone it sticks to? However, the changes of this
fish are only superficial, and the colors are produced in the skin,
which by its closeness or its laxity receives various impressions from
neighboring objects; whereas the resemblance betwixt friends must be
far more than skin-deep, must be substantial, such as may be traced in
every action of their lives, in all their affections, dispositions,
words and purposes, even to their most retired thoughts. To follow the
advice of Theognis would be a task worthy of a Proteus, who was neither
very fortunate nor very honest, but could by enchantment transform
himself in an instant from one shape to another. Even so, he that
entertains many friends must be learned and bookish among the learned,
go into the arena with wrestlers, drudge cheerfully after a pack of
hounds with gentlemen that love hunting, drink with debauchees, and sue
for office with politicians; in fine, he must have no proper principles
of actions and humors of his own, but those of the present company
he converses with. Thus, as the first matter of the philosophers is
originally without shape or color, yet being the subject of all natural
changes takes by its own inherent forces the forms of fire, water, air,
and solid earth; so a person that affects a numerous friendship must
possess a mind full of folds and windings, subject to many passions,
inconstant as water, and easy to be transformed into an infinite
variety of shapes. But real friendship requires a sedate, stable, and
unalterable temper; so that it is a rare thing and next a miracle to
find a constant and sure friend.




THE FIRST ORATION OF PLUTARCH CONCERNING THE FORTUNE OR VIRTUE OF
ALEXANDER THE GREAT.


1. This is the oration of Fortune, asserting and challenging Alexander
to be her masterpiece, and hers alone. In contradiction to which it
behooves us to say something on the behalf of philosophy, or rather
in the defence of Alexander himself, who cannot choose but spurn away
the very thought of having received his empire as a gift at the hands
of Fortune, knowing that it was so dearly bought with the price of his
lost blood and many wounds, and that in gaining it,

    Full many a bloody day
      In toilsome fight he spent,
    And many a wakeful night
      In battle’s management;[199]

and all this in opposition to armies almost irresistible, numberless
nations, rivers before impassable, and rocks impenetrable; choosing,
however, for his chiefest guides and counsellors prudence, endurance,
fortitude, and steadiness of mind.

2. And now, methinks, I hear him speaking thus to Fortune, when she
signalizes herself with his successes:—

Envy not my virtue, nor go about to detract from my honor. Darius
was a fabric of thy own rearing, who of a servant and the king’s
courier was by thee advanced to be monarch of all Persia. The same
was Sardanapalus, who from a comber of purple wool was raised by
thee to wear the royal diadem. But I, subduing as I marched, from
Arbela forced my passage even to Susa itself. Cilicia opened me a
broad way into Egypt; and the Granicus, o’er which I passed without
resistance, trampling under foot the slain carcasses of Mithridates
and Spithridates, opened the way into Cilicia. Pamper up thyself, and
boast thy kings that never felt a wound nor ever saw a finger bleed;
for they were fortunate, it is true,—thy Ochi and thy Artaxerxes,—who
were no sooner born but they were by thee established in the throne
of Cyrus. But my body carries many marks of Fortune’s unkindness, who
rather fought against me as an enemy than assisted me as her friend.
First, among the Illyrians I was wounded in the head with a stone, and
received a blow in the neck with an iron mace. Then, near the Granicus
my head was a second time gashed with a barbarian scimitar; at Issus
I was run through the thigh with a sword; at Gaza I was shot in the
ankle with a dart; and not long after, falling heavy from my saddle, I
forced my shoulder out of joint. Among the Maracadartae my shinbone was
split with an arrow. The wounds I received in India and my strenuous
acts of daring courage will declare the rest. Then among the Assacani
I was shot through the shoulder with another arrow. Encountering the
Gandridae, my thigh was wounded; and one of the Mallotes drew his bow
with that force, that the well-directed arrow made way through my iron
armor to lodge itself in my breast; besides the blow in my neck, when
the scaling-ladders brake that were set to the walls, and Fortune left
me alone, to gratify with the fall of so great a person not a renowned
or illustrious enemy, but ignoble and worthless barbarians. So that
had not Ptolemy covered me with his shield, and Limnaeus, after he had
received a thousand wounds directed at my body, fallen dead before me;
or if the Macedonians, breathing nothing but courage and their prince’s
rescue, had not opened a timely breach, that barbarous and nameless
village might have proved Alexander’s tomb.

3. Take the whole expedition together, and what was it but a patient
endurance of cold winters and parching droughts; depths of rivers,
rocks inaccessible to the winged fowl, amazing sights of strange wild
beasts, savage diet, and lastly revolts and treasons of far-controlling
potentates. As to what before the expedition befell me, it is well
known that all Greece lay gasping and panting under the fatal effects
of the Philippic wars. But then the Thebans, raising themselves upon
their feet again after so desperate a fall, shook from their arms the
dust of Chaeronea; with them also joined the Athenians, reaching forth
their helping hands. The treacherous Macedonians, studying nothing
but revenge, cast their eyes upon the sons of Aeropus; the Illyrians
brake out into an open war; and the Scythians hung in equal balance,
seeing their neighbors meditating new revolutions; while Persian gold,
liberally scattered among the popular leaders of every city, put all
Peloponnesus into motion.

King Philip’s treasuries were at that time empty, and besides he was
in debt, as Onesicritus relates, two hundred talents. In the midst of
so much pressing want and such menacing troubles, a youth but new past
the age of childhood durst aspire to the conquest of Babylon and Susa,
or rather project in his thoughts supreme dominion over all mankind;
and all this, trusting only to the strength of thirty thousand foot
and four thousand horse. For so many there were, by the account which
Aristobulus gives; by the relation of King Ptolemy, there were five
thousand horse; from both which Anaximenes varying musters up the
foot to three and forty thousand, and the horse to five thousand five
hundred. Now the glorious and magnificent sum which Fortune had raised
up to supply the necessities of so great an expedition was no more than
seventy talents, according to Aristobulus; or, as Duris records it,
only thirty days’ provision.

4. You will say therefore that Alexander was too rash and daringly
inconsiderate, with such a slender support to rush upon so vast an
opposition. By no means: for who was ever better fitted than he
for splendid enterprises, with all the choicest and most excelling
precepts of magnanimity, consideration, wisdom, and virtuous
fortitude, with which a philosophical education largely supplied him
for his expedition? So that we may properly affirm that he invaded
Persia with greater assistance from Aristotle than from his father
Philip. As for those who write how Alexander was wont to say that
the Iliad and Odyssey had always followed him in his wars, in honor
to Homer I believe them. Nevertheless, if any one affirm that the
Iliad and Odyssey were admitted of his train merely as the recreation
of his wearied thoughts or pastime of his leisure hours, but that
philosophical learning, and commentaries concerning contempt of fear,
fortitude, temperance, and nobleness of spirit, were the real cabinet
provision which he carried along for his personal use, we contemn
their assertion. For he was not a person that ever wrote concerning
arguments or syllogisms; none of those who observed walks in the
Lyceum, or held disputes in the Academy; for they who thus circumscribe
philosophy believe it to consist in discoursing, not in action. And
yet we find that neither Pythagoras nor Socrates, Arcesilaus nor
Carneades, was ever celebrated for his writings, though they were the
most approved and esteemed among all the philosophers. Yet no such busy
wars as these employed their time in civilizing wild and barbarous
kings, in building Grecian cities among rude and unpolished nations,
nor in settling government and peace among people that lived without
humanity or control of law. They only lived at ease, and surrendered
the business and trouble of writing to the more contentious Sophists.
Whence then came it to pass that they were believed to be philosophers?
It was either from their sayings, from the lives they led, or from the
precepts which they taught. Upon these grounds let us take a prospect
of Alexander, and we shall soon find him, by what he said, by what he
acted, and by the lessons he taught, to be a great philosopher.

5. And first, if you please, consider that which seems the farthest
distant of all from the common received opinion, and compare the
disciples of Alexander with the pupils of Plato and Socrates. The
latter instructed persons ingenuous, such as speak the same speech,
well understanding (if nothing else) the Grecian language. But there
were many with whom their precepts did not prevail; for men like
Critias, Alcibiades, and Cleitophon shook off their doctrine like a
bridle, and followed the conduct of their own inclinations.

On the other side, take a view of Alexander’s discipline, and you shall
see how he taught the Hyrcanians the conveniency of wedlock, introduced
husbandry among the Arachosians, persuaded the Sogdians to preserve and
cherish—not to kill—their aged parents; the Persians to reverence and
honor—not to marry—their mothers. Most admirable philosophy! which
induced the Indians to worship the Grecian Deities, and wrought upon
the Scythians to bury their deceased friends, not to feed upon their
carcasses. We admire the power of Carneades’s eloquence, for forcing
the Carthaginian Clitomachus, called Asdrubal before, to embrace the
Grecian customs. No less we wonder at the prevailing reason of Zeno, by
whom the Babylonian Diogenes was charmed into the love of philosophy.
Yet no sooner had Alexander subdued Asia, than Homer became an author
in high esteem, and the Persian, Susian, and Gedrosian youth sang the
tragedies of Euripides and Sophocles. Among the Athenians, Socrates,
introducing foreign Deities, was condemned to death at the prosecution
of his accusers. But Alexander engaged both Bactria and Caucasus to
worship the Grecian Gods, which they had never known before. Lastly,
Plato, though he proposed but one single form of a commonwealth, could
never persuade any people to make use of it, by reason of the austerity
of his government. But Alexander, building above seventy cities among
the barbarous nations, and as it were sowing the Grecian customs and
constitutions all over Asia, quite weaned them from their former wild
and savage manner of living. The laws of Plato here and there a single
person may peradventure study, but myriads of people have made and
still make use of Alexander’s. And they whom Alexander vanquished were
more greatly blessed than they who fled his conquests. For these had
none to deliver them from their ancient state of misery; the others the
victor compelled to better fortune. True therefore was that expression
of Themistocles, when he was a fugitive from his native country, and
the king entertained him with sumptuous presents, assigning him three
stipendiary cities to supply his table, one with bread, a second with
wine, a third with all manner of costly viands; Ah! young men, said he,
had we not been undone, we had surely been undone. It may, however, be
more justly averred of those whom Alexander subdued, had they not been
vanquished, they had never been civilized. Egypt had not vaunted her
Alexandria, nor Mesopotamia her Seleucia; Sogdiana had not gloried in
her Propthasia, nor the Indians boasted their Bucephalia, nor Caucasus
its neighboring Grecian city; by the founding of all which barbarism
was extinguished and custom changed the worse into better.

If then philosophers assume to themselves their highest applause for
cultivating the most fierce and rugged conditions of men, certainly
Alexander is to be acknowledged the chiefest of philosophers, who
changed the wild and brutish customs of so many various nations,
reducing them to order and government.

6. It is true indeed that the so much admired commonwealth of Zeno,
first author of the Stoic sect, aims singly at this, that neither
in cities nor in towns we should live under laws distinct one from
another, but that we should look upon all men in general to be our
fellow-countrymen and citizens, observing one manner of living and one
kind of order, like a flock feeding together with equal right in one
common pasture. This Zeno wrote, fancying to himself, as in a dream,
a certain scheme of civil order, and the image of a philosophical
commonwealth. But Alexander made good his words by his deeds; for he
did not, as Aristotle advised him, rule the Grecians like a moderate
prince and insult over the barbarians like an absolute tyrant; nor did
he take particular care of the first as his friends and domestics, and
scorn the latter as mere brutes and vegetables; which would have filled
his empire with fugitive incendiaries and perfidious tumults. But
believing himself sent from Heaven as the common moderator and arbiter
of all nations, and subduing those by force whom he could not associate
to himself by fair offers, he labored thus, that he might bring all
regions, far and near, under the same dominion. And then, as in a
festival goblet, mixing lives, manners, customs, wedlock, all together,
he ordained that every one should take the whole habitable world for
his country, of which his camp and army should be the chief metropolis
and garrison; that his friends and kindred should be the good and
virtuous, and that the vicious only should be accounted foreigners. Nor
would he that Greeks and barbarians should be distinguished by long
garments, targets, scimitars, or turbans; but that the Grecians should
be known by their virtue and courage, and the barbarians by their vices
and their cowardice; and that their habit, their diet, their marriage
and custom of converse, should be everywhere the same, engaged and
blended together by the ties of blood and pledges of offspring.

7. Therefore it was that Demaratus the Corinthian, an acquaintance
and friend of Philip, when he beheld Alexander in Susa, bursting into
tears of more than ordinary joy, bewailed the deceased Greeks, who,
as he said, had been bereaved of the greatest blessing on earth, for
that they had not seen Alexander sitting upon the throne of Darius.
Though most assuredly, for my part, I do not envy the beholders this
show, which was only a thing of chance and a happiness of more ordinary
kings. But I would gladly have been a spectator of those majestic
and sacred nuptials, when, after he had betrothed together a hundred
Persian brides and a hundred Macedonian and Greek bridegrooms, he
placed them all at one common table within the compass of one pavilion
embroidered with gold, as being all of the same family; and then,
crowned with a nuptial garland, and being himself the first to sing an
epithalamium in honor of the conjunction between two of the greatest
and most potent nations in the world, of only one the bridegroom, of
all the brideman, father, and moderator, he caused the several couples
to be severally married. Had I but beheld this sight, ecstasied with
pleasure I should have then cried out: “Barbarous and stupid Xerxes,
how vain was all thy toil to cover the Hellespont with a floating
bridge! Thus rather wise and prudent princes join Asia to Europe. They
join and fasten nations together not with boards or planks, or surging
brigandines, not with inanimate and insensible bonds, but by the
ties of legitimate love, chaste nuptials, and the infallible gage of
progeny.”

8. But then, when he considered the Eastern garments, Alexander
preferred the Persian before the Median habit, though much the
meaner and more frugal garb. Therefore rejecting the gaudy and
scenical ornament of barbarian gallantry, such as were the tiara and
candys, together with the upper breeches, according to the report of
Eratosthenes, he ordered a mixture of the Macedonian and Persian modes
to be observed in all the garments which he wore. As a philosopher,
he contented himself with mediocrity; but as the common chieftain of
both and as a mild and affable prince, he was willing to gain the
affection of the vanquished by the esteem which he showed to the mode
of the country; that so they might continue the more steadfast and
loyal to the Macedonians, not hating them as their enemies, but loving
them as their princes and rulers. This behavior was contrary to that
of persons insipid and puffed up with prosperity, who wedded to their
own humors admire the single colored robe but cannot endure the tunic
bordered with purple, or else are well pleased with the latter and hate
the former, like young children, in love with the mode in which, as
another nurse, their country’s custom first apparelled them. And yet we
see that they who hunt wild beasts clothe themselves with their hairy
skins; and fowlers make use of feathered jerkins; nor are others less
wary how they show themselves to wild bulls in scarlet or to elephants
in white; for those creatures are provoked and enraged at the sight of
these colors. If then this potent monarch, designing to reclaim and
civilize stubborn and warlike nations, took the same course to soften
and allay their inbred fury which others take with wild beasts, and at
length brought them to be tame and tractable by making use of their
familiar habits and by submitting to their customary course of life,
thereby removing animosity from their breasts and sour looks from their
countenances, shall we blame his management; or rather must we not
admire the wisdom of him who by so slight a change of apparel ruled all
Asia, subduing their bodies with his arms and vanquishing their minds
with his habit? It is a strange thing; we applaud Socratic Aristippus,
because, being sometimes clad in a poor threadbare cloak, sometimes in
a Milesian robe, he kept a decency in both; but they censure Alexander,
because he gave some respect to the garb and mode of those whom he had
vanquished, as well as to that of his native country; not considering
that he was laying the foundation of vast achievements. It was not his
design to ransack Asia like a robber, or to despoil and ruin it, as
the prey and rapine of unexpected good fortune, as afterwards Hannibal
pillaged Italy, and before him the Treres ravaged Ionia and the
Scythians harassed Media,—but to subdue all the kingdoms of the earth
under one form of government, and to make one nation of all mankind.
So that if the same Deity which hither sent the soul of Alexander had
not too soon recalled it, one law had overlooked all the world, and one
form of justice had been as it were the common light of one universal
government; while now that part of the earth which Alexander never saw
remains without a sun.

9. Thus, in the first place, the very scope and aim of Alexander’s
expedition speaks him a philosopher, as one that sought not to gain for
himself luxurious splendor or riches, but to establish concord, peace,
and mutual community among all men.

Next, let us consider his sayings, seeing that the souls of other
kings and potentates betray their conditions and inclinations by their
expressions. Antigonus the Aged, having heard a certain poet sing
before him a short treatise concerning justice, said, Thou art a fool
to mention justice to me, when thou seest me thundering down the cities
belonging to other people about their ears. Dionysius the Tyrant was
wont to say that children were to be cheated with dice, but men with
oaths. Upon the monument of Sardanapalus this inscription is to be
seen:—

    All I did eat and drink, and all that lust
    To me vouchsafed, I have; all else is gone.

What now can a man say of these apophthegms, but that the first denotes
injustice and immoderate desire of sovereignty; the next impiety; and
the third sensuality? But as for the sayings of Alexander, set aside
his diadem, his claimed descent from Ammon, and the nobility of his
Macedonian extraction, and you would believe them to have been the
sayings of Socrates, Plato, or Pythagoras. For we omit the swelling
hyperboles of flattery which poets have inscribed under his images
and statues, studying rather to extol the power of Alexander than his
moderation and temperance; as, for example,—

    The statue seems to look to Jove and say,
    Take thou Olympus; me let Earth obey!

and that other,—

    This is Alexander the son of Jove.

But these, as I said, were only the flashes of poetic adulation
magnifying his good success. Let us therefore come to such sentences
as were really uttered by Alexander himself, beginning first with the
early blossoms of his childhood.

It is well known that for swiftness in running he exceeded all
that were of his years; for which reason some of his most familiar
play-fellows would have persuaded him to show himself at the Olympic
games. He asked them whether there were any kings to contend with him.
And when they replied that there were none, he said, The contest then
is unequal, for I can conquer only private men, while they may conquer
a king.

His father, King Philip, being run through the thigh in a battle
against the Triballi, and, though he escaped the danger, being not a
little troubled at the deformity of his limping; Be of good cheer,
father, said he, and show yourself in public, that you may be reminded
of your bravery at every step.

Are not these the products of a mind truly philosophical, which by an
inspired inclination to what is noble already contemns the disfigurings
of the body? Nor can we otherwise believe but that he himself gloried
in his own wounds, which every time he beheld them called to his
remembrance the conquered nation and the victory, what cities he had
taken, what kings had surrendered themselves; never striving to conceal
or cover those indelible characters and scars of honor, which he
always carried about him as the engraven testimonies of his virtue and
fortitude.

10. Then again, if any dispute arose or judgment were to be given upon
any of Homer’s verses, either in the schools or at meals, this that
follows he always preferred above the rest,—

    Both a good king, and far renowned in war;[200]

believing that the praise which another by precedency of time had
anticipated was to be a law also to himself, and saying that Homer in
the same verse had extolled the fortitude of Agamemnon and prophesied
of Alexander’s. Crossing therefore the Hellespont, he viewed the city
of Troy, revolving in his mind the heroic acts of antiquity. At this
time one of the chief citizens proffering to him Paris’s harp, if he
pleased to accept it; I need it not, said he, for I have that with
which Achilles pleased himself already,

    When he the mighty deeds of heroes sung,
    Whose fame so loudly o’er the world has rung;[201]

but as for Paris, his soft and effeminate harmony was devoted only
to the pleasures of amorous courtship. Now it is part of a true
philosopher’s soul to love wisdom and chiefly to admire wise men;
and this was Alexander’s praise beyond all other princes. His high
esteem for his master Aristotle we have already mentioned. No less
honor did he give to Anaxarchus the musician, whom he favored as one
of his choicest friends. To Pyrrhon the Elean, the first time he saw
him, he gave a thousand crowns in gold. To Xenocrates, the companion
of Plato, he sent an honorary present of fifty talents. Lastly, it is
recorded by several that he made Onesicratus, the disciple of Diogenes
the Cynic, chief of his pilots. But when he came to discourse with
Diogenes himself at Corinth, he was struck in such a manner with wonder
and astonishment at the course of life and sententious learning of
the person, that frequently calling him to mind he was wont to say,
Were I not Alexander, I would be Diogenes. That is, I would have
devoted myself to the study of words, had I not been a philosopher in
deeds. He did not say, Were I not a king, I would be Diogenes; nor,
Were I not opulent, an Argeades. For he did not prefer fortune before
wisdom, nor the purple robe or regal diadem before the beggar’s wallet
and threadbare mantle; but he said, Were I not Alexander, I would be
Diogenes. That is,—

“Had I not designed to intermix barbarians and Greeks and to civilize
the earth as I marched forward, and had I not proposed to search the
limits of sea and land, and so, extending Macedon to the land-bounding
ocean, to have sown Greece in every region all along and to have
diffused justice and peace over all nations, I would not have sat
yawning upon the throne of slothful and voluptuous power, but would
have labored to imitate the frugality of Diogenes. But now pardon us,
Diogenes. We follow the example of Hercules, we emulate Perseus, and
tread in the footsteps of Bacchus, our divine ancestor and founder
of our race; once more we purpose to settle the victorious Greeks in
India, and once more to put those savage mountaineers beyond Caucasus
in mind of their ancient Bacchanalian revels. There, by report, live
certain people professing a rigid and austere philosophy, and more
frugal than Diogenes, as going altogether naked; pious men, governed
by their own constitutions and devoted wholly to God. They have no
occasion for scrip or wallet, for they never lay up provision, having
always fresh and new gathered from the earth. The rivers afford them
drink, and at night they rest upon the grass and the leaves that fall
from the trees. By our means shall they know Diogenes, and Diogenes
them. But it behooves us also, as it were, to make a new coin, and to
stamp a new face of Grecian civility upon the barbarian metal.”

11. Tell me now; can such generous acts of Alexander as these be
thought to speak the spontaneous favors of Fortune, only an impetuous
torrent of success and strength of hand? Do they not rather demonstrate
much of fortitude and justice, much of mildness and temperance, in
one who managed all things with decorum and consideration, with a
sober and intelligent judgment? Not that I (believe me) go about to
distinguish between the several acts of Alexander, and to ascribe this
to fortitude, that to humanity, another to temperance; but I take every
act to be an act of all the virtues mixed together. This is conformable
to that Stoic sentence, “What a wise man does he does by the impulse
of all the virtues together; only one particular virtue seems to
head every action, and calling the rest to her assistance drives on
to the end proposed.” Therefore we may behold in Alexander a warlike
humanity, a meek fortitude, a liberality poised with good husbandry,
anger easily appeased, chaste amours, a busy relaxation of mind, and
labor not wanting recreation. Who ever like him mixed festivals with
combats, revels and jollity with expeditions, nuptials and bacchanals
with sieges and difficult attempts? To those that offended against the
law who more severe? To the unfortunate who more pitiful? To those that
made resistance who more terrible? To suppliants who more merciful?
This gives me an occasion to insert here the saying of Porus. For he
being brought a captive before Alexander, and by him being asked how
he expected to be treated, Royally, said he, O Alexander. And being
further asked whether he desired no more, he replied, Nothing; for all
things are comprehended in that word “royally.” And for my part, I know
not how to give a greater applause to the actions of Alexander, than by
adding the word “philosophically,” for in that word all other things
are included. Being ravished with the beauty of Roxana, the daughter
of Oxyarthes, dancing among the captive ladies, he never assailed her
with injurious lust, but married her philosophically. Beholding Darius
stuck to the heart with several arrows, he did not presently sacrifice
to the Gods or sing triumphal songs to celebrate the end of so long a
war, but unclasping his own cloak from his shoulders he threw it over
the dead corpse philosophically, as it were to cover the shame of royal
calamity. Another time, as he was perusing a private letter sent him
by his mother, he observed Hephaestion, who was sitting by him, to
read it along with him, little understanding what he did. For which
unwary act Alexander forbore to reprove him; only clapping his signet
to his mouth, he thus kindly admonished him that his lips were then
sealed up to silence by the friendly confidence which he reposed in
him,—all this philosophically. And indeed if these were not acts done
philosophically, where shall we find them?

12. Let us compare with his some few acts of those who are by all
allowed to be philosophers. Socrates yielded to the lustful embraces
of Alcibiades. Alexander, when Philoxenus, governor of the sea-coasts,
wrote to him concerning an Ionian lad that had not his equal for
youthful beauty, and desired to know whether he should be sent to him
or not, returned him this nipping answer: Vilest of men, when wast
thou ever privy to any desires of mine, that thou shouldst think to
flatter me with such abhorred allurements? We admire the abstinency
of Xenocrates for refusing the gift of fifty talents which Alexander
sent him; but do we take no notice of the munificence of the giver?
Or is the bountiful person not to be thought as much a contemner of
money as he that refuses it? Xenocrates needed not riches, by reason
of his philosophy; but Alexander wanted wealth, by reason of the same
philosophy, that he might be more liberal to such persons.... How
often has Alexander borne witness to this in the midst of a thousand
dangers? It is true, we believe that it is in the power of all men to
judge rightly of things; for nature guides us of herself to virtue and
bravery. But herein philosophers excel all others, that they have by
education acquired a fixed and solid judgment to encounter whatever
dangers they meet with. For most men have no such maxims to defend them
as this in Homer,—

    Without a sign his sword the brave man draws,
    And needs no omen but his country’s cause.[202]

And that other of Demosthenes,—

    Death is the certain end of all mankind.[203]

But sudden apparitions of imminent danger many times break our
resolutions; and the fancy troubled with the imagination of approaching
peril chases away true judgment from her seat. For fear not only
astonishes the memory, according to the saying of Thucydides,[204]
but it dissipates all manner of consideration, sense of honor, and
resolution; while philosophy binds and keeps them together....

  NOTE.—The text is defective at the end, and elsewhere in the last
  chapter. The sense of the clause just preceding the quotation from
  Homer is chiefly conjectural. A similar deficiency is found at the
  end of the Second Oration on Alexander, which immediately follows.
  (G.)




THE SECOND ORATION OF PLUTARCH CONCERNING THE FORTUNE OR VIRTUE OF
ALEXANDER THE GREAT.


1. We forgot in our yesterday’s discourse to tell you, that the age
wherein Alexander flourished had the happiness to abound in sciences
and in persons of transcending natural endowments. Yet this is not to
be ascribed to Alexander’s but their own good fortune, which favored
them with such a judge and such a spectator of their particular
excellencies as was both able rightly to discern and liberally
to reward their understood deserts. Therefore it is recorded of
Archestratus, born some ages after, an elegant poet but buried in his
own extreme poverty, that a certain person meeting him said, Hadst
thou but lived when Alexander lived, for every verse he would have
gratified thee with an island of Cyprus or a territory fair as that of
Phoenicia. Which makes me of opinion that those former famous artists
and soaring geniuses may not so properly be said to have lived in
the time of Alexander as by Alexander. For as the temperature of the
season and limpid thinness of the surrounding air produce plenty of
grain and fruit; so the favor, the encouragement, and benignity of a
prince increase the number of aspiring geniuses, and advance perfection
in sciences. And on the other side, by the envy, covetousness, and
contentiousness of those in power, whatever soars to the height of true
bravery or invention is utterly quelled and extinguished. Therefore
it is reported of Dionysius the Tyrant that, being pleased with the
music of a certain player on a harp, he promised him a talent for
his reward; but when the musician claimed his promise the next day,
Yesterday, said he, by thee delighted, while thou sangest before me, I
gave thee likewise the pleasure of thy hopes; and thence immediately
didst thou receive the reward of thy delightful pastime, enjoying at
the same time the charming expectation of my promise. In like manner
Alexander tyrant of the Pheraeans (for it behooves us to distinguish
him by that addition, lest we should dishonor his namesake), sitting
to see a tragedy, was so affected with delight at the acting, that he
found himself moved to a more than ordinary compassion. Upon which,
leaping suddenly from his seat, as he hastily flung out of the theatre,
How poor and mean it would look, said he, if I, that have massacred
so many of my own citizens and subjects, should be seen here weeping
at the misfortunes of Hecuba and Polyxena! And it was an even lay but
that he had mischiefed the tragedian for having mollified his cruel
and merciless disposition, like iron softened by fire. Timotheus also,
singing to Archelaus who seemed too parsimonious in remuneration,
frequently upbraided him with the following sarcasm:—

    Base earth-bred silver thou admirest.

To whom Archelaus not unwittily reparteed,—

    But thou dost beg it.

Ateas, king of the Scythians, having taken Ismenias the musician
prisoner, commanded him to play during one of his royal banquets. And
when all the rest admired and applauded his harmony, Ateas swore that
the neighing of a horse was more delightful to his ears. So great a
stranger was he to the habitations of the Muses; as one whose soul
lodged always in his stables, fitter however to hear asses bray than
horses neigh. Therefore, among such kings, what progress or advancement
of noble sciences or esteem for learning can be expected? And surely
no more can be expected from such as would themselves be rivals,
who therefore persecute real artists with all the hatred and envy
imaginable. In the number of these was Dionysius before mentioned, who
condemned Philoxenus the poet to labor in the quarries, because, being
by the tyrant commanded only to correct a tragedy by him written, he
struck out every line from the beginning to the end. Nay, I must needs
say that Philip, who became a student not till his latter years, in
these things descended beneath himself. For it being once his chance to
enter into a dispute about sounds with a musician whom he thought he
had foiled in his art, the person modestly and with a smile replied,
May never so great a misfortune befall thee, O King, as to understand
these things better than I do.

2. But Alexander, well considering of what persons and things it became
him to be the hearer and spectator, and with whom to contend and
exercise his strength, made it his business to excel all others in the
art of war, and according to Aeschylus, to be

    A mighty warrior, terrible to his foes.

For having learned this art from his ancestors, the Aeacidae and
Hercules, he gave to other arts their due honor and esteem without
the least emulation; embracing and favoring what was in them noble
and elegant, but never suffering himself to be carried away with the
pleasure of being a practitioner in any. In his time flourished the
two tragedians, Thessalus and Athenodorus, who contending for the
prize, the Cyprian kings supplied the charges of the theatre, and
the judges were to be the most renowned captains of the age. But at
length Athenodorus being adjudged the victor; I could have wished,
said Alexander, rather to have lost a part of my kingdom than to
have seen Thessalus vanquished. Yet he neither interceded with the
judges nor anywhere disapproved or blamed the judgment; believing it
became him to be superior to all others, only to submit to justice.
To the comedian Lyco of Scarphe, who had inserted into one of his
scenes certain verses in the nature of a begging petition, he gave
ten talents, laughing heartily at the conceit. Aristonicus was in the
number of the most famous musicians of those times. This man being
slain in battle, strenuously fighting to assist and save his friend,
Alexander commanded his statue to be made in brass and set up in the
temple of Pythian Apollo, holding his harp in one hand and his spear
upright in the other, not only in memory of the person, but in honor
of music itself, as exciting to fortitude and inspiring those who are
rightly and generously bred to it with a kind of supernatural courage
and bravery.

Even Alexander himself, when Antigenides played before him in the
Harmatian mood, was so transported and warmed for battle by the charms
of lofty airs, that leaping from his seat all in his clattering armor
he began to lay about him and attack those who stood next him, thereby
verifying to the Spartans what was commonly sung among themselves,—

    The masculine touches of the well-tuned lyre
    Unsheathe the sword and warlike rage inspire.[205]

Furthermore, there were also Apelles the painter and Lysippus the
statuary both living under the reign of Alexander. The first of which
painted him grasping Jupiter’s thunderbolt in his hand, so artfully
and in such lively colors, that it was said of the two Alexanders that
Philip’s was invincible, but Apelles’s inimitable. Lysippus, when he
had finished the first statue of Alexander looking up with his face to
the sky (as Alexander was wont to look, with his neck slightly bent),
not improperly added to the pedestal the following lines:—

    The statue seems to look to Jove and say,
    Take thou Olympus; me let Earth obey!

For which Alexander gave to Lysippus the sole patent for making all his
statues; because he alone expressed in brass the vigor of his mind,
and in his lineaments represented the lustre of his virtue; while
others, who strove to imitate the turning of his neck and softness and
brightness of his eyes, failed to observe the manliness and lion-like
fierceness of his countenance.

Among the great artists of that time was Stasicrates, who never studied
elegance nor what was sweet and alluring to the eye, but only bold and
lofty workmanship and design, becoming the munificence of royal bounty.
He attended upon Alexander, and found fault with all the paintings,
sculptures, and cast figures that were made of his person, as the works
of mean and slothful artificers. “But I,” said he, “will undertake
to fix the likeness of thy body on matter incorruptible, such as has
eternal foundations and a ponderosity steadfast and immovable. For the
mountain Athos in Thrace, where it rises largest and most conspicuous,
having a just symmetry of breadth and height, with members, limbs, and
distances answerable to the shape of human body, may be so wrought
and formed as to be, not only in imagination and fancy but really,
the effigy and statue of Alexander; with his feet reaching to the
seas, grasping in his left hand a fair and populous city, and with his
right pouring forth an ever-flowing river into the ocean from a bowl,
as a perpetual drink-offering. But as for gold, brass, ivory, wood,
stained figures, and little wax images, toys which may be bought or
stolen, I despise them all.” When Alexander heard this discourse, he
admired and praised the spirit and confidence of the artist; “But,”
said he, “let Athos alone; for it is sufficient that it is the monument
of the vanquished folly and presuming pride of one king already. Our
portraiture the snowy Caucasus, and towering Emodon, Tanais, and the
Caspian Sea shall draw. They shall remain eternal monuments of our
renown.”

3. But grant that so vast an undertaking should have been brought to
perfection; is there any person living, do ye think, that would have
believed such a figure, such a form, and so great a design, to be the
spontaneous and accidental production of fantastic Nature? Certainly,
not one. What may we think of the statue representing him grasping
thunder, and that other with his spear in his hand? Is it possible
that a Colossus of a statue should ever be made by Fortune without the
help of art; nay, though she should profusely afford all the materials
imaginable of gold, brass, ivory, or any other substance whatever?
Much more, is it probable that so great a personage, and indeed the
greatest of all who have ever lived, should be the workmanship of
Fortune without the assistance of virtue? And all this, perhaps,
because she has made him the potent master of arms, horses, money, and
wealthy cities?—which he who knows not how to use shall rather find
to be destructive and dangerous than aids to advance his power and
magnificence, as affording proofs of his weakness and pusillanimity.
Noble therefore was the saying of Antisthenes, that we ought to wish an
enemy all things beneficial to mankind except fortitude; for so these
blessings will belong not to their possessors but to the conqueror.
Therefore it was, they say, that Nature provided for the hart, one of
the most timorous of creatures, such large and branchy horns, to teach
us that strength and weapons nothing avail where conduct and courage
are wanting. In like manner, Fortune frequently bestowing wealth and
empire upon princes simple and faint-hearted, who blemish their dignity
by misgovernment, honors and more firmly establishes virtue, as being
that which alone makes a man most truly beautiful and majestic. For
indeed, according to Epicharmus,

    ’Tis the mind only sees, the mind
    That hears; the rest are deaf and blind.

For as for the senses, they seem only to have their proper
opportunities to act.

But that the mind alone is that which gives both assistance and
ornament, the mind that overcomes, that excels, and acts the kingly
part, while those other blind, deaf, and inanimate things do but
hinder, depress, and disgrace the possessors void of virtue, is easily
made manifest by experience. For Semiramis, but a woman, set forth
great navies, raised mighty armies, built Babylon, covered the Red Sea
with her fleets and subdued the Ethiopians and Arabians. On the other
side, Sardanapalus possessing the same power and dominion, though born
a man, spent his time at home combing purple wool, lying among his
harlots in a lascivious posture upon his back, with his heels higher
than his head. After his decease, they made for him a statue of stone,
resembling a woman dancing, who seemed to snap with her fingers as she
held them over her head, with this inscription,—

    Eat, drink, indulge thy lust; all other things are nothing.

Whence it came to pass that Crates, seeing the golden statue of Phryne
the courtesan standing in the temple of Delphi, cried out, There
stands a trophy of the Grecian luxury. But had he viewed the life or
rather burial (for I find but little difference) of Sardanapalus,
would he have imagined that statue to have been a trophy of Fortune’s
indulgences? Shall we suffer the fortune of Alexander to be sullied by
the touch of Sardanapalus, or endure that the latter should challenge
the majesty and prowess of the former? For what did Sardanapalus enjoy
through her favor, more than other princes receive at her hands—arms,
horses, weapons, money, and guards of the body? Let Fortune, with
all these assistances, make Aridaeus famous, if she can; let her, if
she can, advance the renown of Ochus, Amasis, Oarses, Tigranes the
Armenian, or Nicomedes the Bithynian. Of which last two, the one,
casting his diadem at Pompey’s feet, ignominiously surrendered up his
kingdom a prey to the victor; and as for Nicomedes, he, after he had
shaved his head and put on the cap of liberty, acknowledged himself no
more than a freed vassal of the Roman people.

4. Rather let us therefore affirm that Fortune makes her favorites
little, poor-spirited, and pusillanimous cowards. But it is not just
to ascribe vice to misfortune, fortitude and wisdom to prosperity.
Fortune indeed was herself made great by Alexander’s reign; for in him
she appeared illustrious, invincible, magnanimous, merciful, and just.
Insomuch that after his decease Leosthenes likened this vast bulk of
power—wandering as in a mist, and sometimes violently rushing one part
against the other—to the giant Cyclops, who after he had lost his eye
went feeling and groping about with his hands before him, not knowing
where to lay them. So strangely did that vast pile of dominion roll
and tumble about in the dark of confusion, when shattered into anarchy
by the loss of its supreme head. Or rather, as dead bodies, when the
soul takes her flight, no longer grow together, no longer act together,
but are broken up and dissolved, and are finally dissipated; thus
Alexander’s empire, wanting his enlivening conduct, panted, gasped,
and boiled with fever, struggling with Perdiccas, Meleager, Seleucus,
and Antigonus,—as with vital spirits still remaining hot, and with
irregular and intermittent pulses,—till at length, totally corrupted
and putrefied, it produced a sort of degenerate kings and faint-hearted
princes, like so many worms. This he himself seemed to prophesy,
reproving Hephaestion for quarrelling with Craterus: What power, said
he, or signal achievement couldst thou pretend to, should any one
deprive thee of thy Alexander? The same will I be bold to say to the
Fortune of that time: Where would have been thy grandeur, where thy
glory, where thy vast empire, thy invincibility, should any one have
bereaved thee of thy Alexander?—that is, should any one have deprived
thee of thy skill and dexterity in war, thy magnificence in expense,
thy moderation in the midst of so much affluence, thy prowess in the
field, thy meekness to the vanquished? Frame, if thou canst, another
piece like him, that missing all his noble qualities shall neither be
magnificently liberal nor foremost in battle, that shall not regard nor
esteem his friends, that shall not be compassionate to his captives,
that shall not moderate his pleasures, that shall not be watchful
to take all opportunities, whom victory shall make inexorable and
prosperity insolent; and try if thou canst make him another Alexander.
What ruler ever obtained renown by folly and improbity? Separate virtue
from the fortunate, and he everywhere appears little;—among those
that deserve his bounty, for his close-handed illiberality; among the
laborious, for his effeminacy; among the Gods, for his superstition;
among the good, for his envious conditions; among men, for his
cowardice; among women, for his inordinate lust. For as unskilful
workmen, erecting small figures upon huge pedestals, betray the
slightness of their own understandings; so Fortune, when she brings a
person of a poor and narrow soul upon the stage of weighty and glorious
actions, does but expose and disgrace him, as a person whom the vanity
of his own ill conduct has rendered worthless.

5. So that true grandeur does not consist in the possession but in
the use of noble means. For new-born infants frequently inherit their
father’s kingdoms and empires. Such an one was Charillus, whom Lycurgus
carried in his swaddling-bands to the public table, and resigning his
own authority proclaimed king of Lacedaemon. Yet was not the infant
thereby the more famous, but he who surrendered to the infant his
paternal right, scorning fraud and usurpation. But who could make
Aridaeus great, whom Meleager seated in Alexander’s throne, differing
from a child only in having his swaddling-clothes of purple? Prudently
done, that so in a few days it might appear how men govern by virtue,
and how by fortune. For after the true prince who swayed the empire,
he brought in a mere player; or rather he exposed the diadem of the
habitable world upon the brainless head of a mere mute on the stage.

    Women may bear the burden of a crown,
    When a renowned commander puts it on.[206]

Yet some may say, it is possible for women and children to confer
dignity, riches, and empire upon others. Thus the eunuch Bagoas took
the diadem of Persia, and set it upon the head of Oarses and Darius.
But for a man to take upon him the burden of a vast dominion, and so
to manage his ponderous affairs as not to suffer himself to sink and
be overwhelmed under the immense weight of wakeful cares and incessant
labor, that is the character which signalizes a person endued with
virtue, understanding, and wisdom. All these royal qualities Alexander
had, whom some accuse of being given to wine. But he was a really
great man, who was always sober in action and never drunk with the
pride of his conquests and vast power; while others intoxicated with
the smallest part of his prosperity have ceased to be masters of
themselves. For, as the poet sings,—

    The vainer sort, that view their heaps of gold,
    Or else advanced at court high places hold,
    Grow wanton with those unexpected showers
    That Fortune on their happy greatness pours.[207]

Thus Clitus, having sunk some three or four of the Grecians galleys
near the island Amorgus, called himself Neptune and carried a
trident. So Demetrius, to whom Fortune vouchsafed a small portion of
Alexander’s power, assumed the title of Kataibates (as if descended
from heaven), to whom the several cities sent their ambassadors, by the
name of God-consulters, and his determinations were called oracles.
Lysimachus, having made himself master of some part of the skirts of
Alexander’s empire, viz., the region about Thrace, swelled to such
excess of pride and vain-glory as to break forth into this ranting
expression: Now the Byzantines make their addresses to me, because I
touch heaven with my spear. At which words, Pasiades of Byzantium being
then present said, Let us be gone, lest he pierce heaven with the point
of his lance.

What shall we, in the next place, think of those who presumed, as
imitators of Alexander, to have high thoughts of themselves? Clearchus,
having made himself tyrant of Heraclea, carried a sceptre like that of
Jupiter’s in his hand, and named one of his sons Thunderbolt. Dionysius
the Younger called himself the son of Apollo in this inscription:—

    The son of Doris, but from Phoebus sprung.

His father put to death above ten thousand of his subjects, betrayed
his brother out of envy to his enemies, and not enduring to expect the
natural death of his mother, at that time very aged, caused her to be
strangled, writing in one of his tragedies,—

    For tyranny is the mother of injustice.

Yet after all this, he named one of his daughters Virtue, another
Temperance, and a third Justice. Others there were that assumed the
titles of benefactors, others of glorious conquerors, others of
preservers, and others usurped the title of great and magnificent.
But should we go about to recount their promiscuous marriages like
horses, their continual herding among impudent and lawless women, their
contaminations of boys, their drumming among effeminate eunuchs, their
perpetual gaming, their piping in theatres, their nocturnal revels, and
days consumed in riot, it would be a task too tedious to undertake.

6. As for Alexander, he breakfasted by break of day, always sitting;
and supped at the shutting in of the evening; he drank when he had
sacrificed to the Gods. With his friend Medius he played for diversion
when he was sick with a fever. He also played upon the road as he
marched, learning between whiles to throw a dart and leap from his
chariot. He married Roxana merely for love; but Statira, the daughter
of Darius, upon the account of state-policy, for such a conjunction of
both nations strengthened his conquest. As to the other Persian women,
he excelled them in chastity and continence as far as he surpassed
the men in valor. He never desired the sight of any virgin that was
unwilling; and those he saw, he regarded less than if he had not seen
them; mild and affable to all others, proud and lofty only to fair
youth. As for the wife of Darius, a woman most beautiful, he never
would endure to hear a word spoken in commendation of her features.
When she was dead, he graced her funeral with such a regal pomp, and
bewailed her death so piteously, that his kindness cast discredit upon
his chastity, and his very courtesy incurred the obloquy of injustice.
Indeed, Darius himself had been moved with suspicion at first, when he
thought of the power and the youth of the conqueror; for he was one
of those who thought Alexander to be only the darling of Fortune. But
when he understood the truth, “Well,” said he, “I do not yet perceive
the condition of the Persians so deplorable, since the world can never
tax us now with imbecility or effeminacy, whose fate it was to be
vanquished by such a person. Therefore my prayers shall be to the Gods
for his prosperity, and that he may be still victorious in war; to the
end that in well-doing I may surpass Alexander. For my emulation and
ambition lead me in point of honor to show myself more cordial and
friendly than he. If then the Fates have otherwise determined as to me
and mine, O Jupiter preserver of the Persians, and you, O Deities, to
whom the care of kings belongs, hear your suppliant, and suffer none
but Alexander to sit upon the throne of Cyrus.” This was the manner in
which Darius adopted Alexander, after he had called the Gods to witness
the act.

7. So true it is that virtue is the victor still. But now, if you
please, let us ascribe to Fortune Arbela and Cilicia, and those other
acts of main force and violence; say that Fortune thundered down the
walls of Tyre, and that Fortune opened the way into Egypt. Believe
that by Fortune Halicarnassus fell, Miletus was taken, Mazaeus left
Euphrates unguarded, and the Babylonian fields were strewed with
the carcasses of the slain. Yet was not his prudence the gift of
Fortune, nor his temperance. Neither did Fortune, as it were empaling
his inclinations, preserve him impregnable against his pleasures or
invulnerable against the assaults of his fervent desires. These were
the weapons with which he overthrew Darius. Fortune’s advantages, if
so they may be called, were only the fury of armed men and horses,
battles, slaughters, and flights of routed adversaries. But the great
and most undoubted victory which Darius lost was this, that he was
forced to yield to virtue, magnanimity, prowess, and justice, while he
beheld with admiration his conqueror, who was not to be overcome by
pleasure or by labor, nor to be matched in liberality.

True it is, that among the throngs of shields and spears, in the midst
of warlike shouts and the clashing of weapons, Tarrias the son of
Dinomenes, Antigenes the Pellenian, and Philotas the son of Parmenio
were invincible; but in respect of their inordinate debauchery, their
love of women, their insatiable covetousness, they were nothing
superior to the meanest of their captives. For the last of these vices
Tarrias was particularly noted; and when Alexander set the Macedonians
out of debt and paid off all their creditors, Tarrias pretended among
the rest to owe a great sum of money, and brought a suborned person
to demand the sum as due to him; but being discovered, he would have
laid violent hands upon himself, had not Alexander forgiven him and
ordered him the money, remembering that at the battle of Perinthus
fought by Philip, being shot into the eye with a dart, he would not
suffer the head of it to be pulled out till the field was clear of
the enemy. Antigenes, when the sick and maimed soldiers were to be
sent back into Macedon, made suit to be registered down in the number,
pretending himself utterly disabled in the wars; which very much
troubled Alexander, who was well acquainted with his valor and knew
that he wore the scars about him of many a bloody field. But the fraud
being detected, that was concealed under some little present infirmity,
Alexander asked him the reason of his design; and he answered, he did
it for the love of Telesippe, that he might accompany her to the sea,
not being able to endure a separation from her. Presently the King
demanded to whom the wench belonged, and who was to be dealt with in
regard to her. To which he replied, she was free from any tie. Well,
then, said the King, let us persuade her to stay, if promises or gifts
will prevail. So ready was he to pardon the dotages of love in others,
so rigorous to himself. But Philotas the son of Parmenio exercised his
incontinency after a more offensive manner. Antigona was a Pellaean
virgin among the captives taken about Damascus, a prisoner before to
Autophradates, who took her going by sea into Samothrace. The beauty
of this damsel was such as kept Philotas constant to her embraces.
Nay, she had so softened and mellowed this man of steel, I know not
how, that he was not master of himself in his enjoyments, but told her
the very secrets of his breast; among other things he said: What had
Philip been, but for Parmenio? And what would Alexander now be, but
for Philotas? What would become of Ammon and the dragons, should we be
once provoked? These words Antigona prattled to one of her companions,
and she told them to Craterus. Craterus brings Antigona privately to
Alexander, who forbore to offer her the least incivility, but by her
means piercing into Philotas’s breast, he detected the whole. Yet for
seven years after he never discovered so much as the least sign of
jealousy, either in his wine or in his anger; nor did he ever disclose
it to any friend, even to Hephaestion, from whom he never concealed
the most inward of his counsels and designs. For it is said that once,
when Alexander had just opened a private letter from his mother and was
quietly reading it, Hephaestion looked over his shoulder and began to
read it likewise; but Alexander forbore to reprove him, and only took
off his signet and clapped it to Hephaestion’s mouth.

8. These recitals may suffice, without being tedious, to show that
he exercised his authority according to all the most illustrious and
royal methods of government. To which grandeur if he arrived by the
assistance of Fortune, he is to be acknowledged the greater, because
he made so glorious a use of her. So that the more any man extols his
fortune, the more he advances his virtue, which made him worthy of such
fortune.

But now I shall return to the beginnings of his advancement and the
early dawnings of his power, and endeavor to discover what was there
the great work of Fortune, which rendered Alexander so great by her
assistance. First then, how came it to pass that some neighing barb did
not seat him in the throne of Cyrus, free from wounds, without loss of
blood, without a toilsome expedition, as formerly it happened to Darius
Hystaspes? Or that some one flattered by a woman, as Darius by Atossa,
did not deliver up his diadem to him, as the other did to Xerxes, so
that the empire of Persia came home to him, even to his own doors? Or
why did not some eunuch aid him, as Bagoas did the son of Parysatis,
who, only throwing off the habit of a messenger, immediately put on the
royal turban? Or why was he not elected on a sudden and unexpectedly by
lot to the empire of the world, as at Athens the lawgivers and rulers
are wont to be chosen? Would you know how men come to be kings by
Fortune’s help? At Argos the whole race of the Heraclidae happened to
be extinct, to whom the sceptre of that kingdom belonged. Upon which
consulting the oracle, answer was made to them that an eagle should
direct them. Within a few days the eagle appeared towering aloft, but
stooping he at length lighted upon Aegon’s house; thereupon Aegon was
chosen king. Another time in Paphos, the king that there reigned being
an unjust and wicked tyrant, Alexander resolved to dethrone him, and
therefore sought out for another, the race of the Kinyradae seeming
to be at an end. They told him there was one yet in being, a poor man
and of no account, who lived miserable in a certain garden. Thereupon
messengers were sent, who found the poor man watering some few small
beds of pot-herbs. The miserable creature was strangely surprised to
see so many soldiers about him, but go he must; and so being brought
before Alexander in his rags and tatters, he caused him presently to be
proclaimed king and clad in purple; which done, he was admitted into
the number of those who were called the king’s companions. The name of
this person was Alynomus. Thus Fortune creates kings suddenly, easily
changing the habits and altering the names of those that never expected
or hoped for any such thing.

9. All this while, what favors did Fortune shower upon Alexander
but what he merited, what he sweat for, what he bled for? What came
gratis? What without the price of great achievements and illustrious
actions? He quenched his thirst in rivers mixed with blood; he marched
over bridges of slain carcasses; he grazed the fields to satisfy his
present hunger; he dug his way to nations covered with snow and cities
lying under ground; he made the hostile sea submit to his fleets;
and, marching over the thirsty and barren sands of the Gedrosians and
Arachosians, he discovered green at sea before he saw it at land. So
that if I might use the same liberty of speech for Alexander to Fortune
as to a man, I would thus expostulate with her:—

“Insulting Fortune, when and where didst thou make an easy way
for Alexander’s vast performances? What impregnable rock was ever
surrendered to him without a bloody assault, by thy favor? What city
didst thou ever deliver unguarded into his hands? Or what unarmed
battalion of men? What faint-hearted prince, what negligent captain, or
sleepy sentinels did he ever surprise? When didst thou ever befriend
him with so much as a fordable river, a mild winter, or an easy summer?
Get thee to Antiochus the son of Seleucus, to Artaxerxes the brother of
Cyrus. Get thee to Ptolemy Philadelphus. Their fathers proclaimed them
kings in their own lifetime; they won battles which no mothers wept
for; they spent their days in festivals, admiring the pomp of shows and
theatres; and still more happy, they prolonged their reigns till scarce
their feeble hands could wield their sceptres. But if nothing else,
behold the body of Alexander wounded by the enemy, mangled, battered,
bruised, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet,

    With spears, and swords, and mighty stones.[208]

At the battle of the Granicus his helmet was cleft to his very scull;
at Gaza he was wounded in the shoulder with a dart. Among the
Maragandi he was shot in the shin so desperately, that the bone of
his shank was broken and started out of the skin. In Hyrcania he was
struck in the neck with a stone, which caused such a dimness in his
eyes that for many days he was in danger of losing his sight. Among the
Assaracans he was wounded in the heel with an Indian dart; at which
time he thus derided his flatterers with a smiling countenance, saying,
This is blood, and no immortal ichor,—

    Such stream as issues from a wounded God.[209]

At Issus he was run through the thigh with a sword by Darius (as Chares
relates), who encountered him hand to hand. Alexander also himself,
writing the truth with all sincerity to Antipater, said, It was my
fortune to be wounded with a poniard in the thigh, but no ill symptoms
attended it either when it was newly done or afterwards during the
cure. Another time, among the Malli he was wounded with an arrow two
cubits in length, that went in at his breast and came out at his neck,
as Aristobulus relates. Crossing the Tanais against the Scythians and
winning the field, he pursued the flying enemy a hundred and fifty
furlongs, though at the same time laboring with a dysentery”.

10. “Well contrived, vain Fortune! to advance and aggrandize Alexander
by lancing, broaching, boring every part of his body. Not like
Minerva,—who, to save Menelaus, directed the dart against the most
impenetrable parts of his armor, blunting the force of the weapon with
his breastplate, belt, and scarf, so that it only glanced upon his
skin, and drew forth two or three drops of blood,—but contrariwise,
thou hast exposed his principal parts naked to mischief, driving the
wounds through the very bones, rounding every corner of his body,
besieging the eyes, undermining the pursuing feet, stopping the
torrent of victory, and disappointing the prosecution of noble designs.
For my part, I know no prince to whom Fortune ever was more unkind,
though she has been envious and severe enough to several. However,
other princes she destroyed with a swift and rapid destruction, as with
a whirlwind; but in her hatred against Alexander she prolonged her
malice, and persisted still implacable and inexorable, as she showed
herself to Hercules. For what Typhons and monstrous giants did she not
oppose against him? Which of his enemies did she not fortify with store
of arms, deep rivers, steep mountains, and the foreign strength of
massy elephants? Now had not Alexander been a personage of transcending
wisdom, actuated by the impulse of a more than ordinary virtue, but had
he been supported only by Fortune, he would have trusted to her as her
favorite, and spared himself the labor and the turmoil of ranging so
many armies and fighting so many battles, the toil of so many sieges
and pursuits, the vexations of revolting nations and haughty princes
not enduring the curb of foreign dominion, and all his tedious marches
into Bactria, Maracanda, and Sogdiana, among faithless and rebellious
nations, who were ever breaking out afresh with new wars, like the
Hydra putting forth a new head so soon as one was cut off.”

11. And here I may seem to utter an absurdity, but I will venture to
speak it, as being an undoubted truth; that it was by Fortune that
he came very near losing the reputation of being the son of Jupiter
Ammon. For who but one sprung from the Gods, Hercules excepted, would
ever have undertaken and finished those hazardous and toilsome labors
which he did? Yet what did Hercules do but terrify lions, pursue wild
boars, and scare birds; enjoined thereto by one evil man, that he
might not have leisure for those greater actions of punishing Antaeus
and putting an end to the murders of Busiris. But it was virtue that
enjoined Alexander to undertake that godlike labor, not covetousness
of the golden burden of ten thousand camels, not the possession of the
Median women or glorious ornaments of Persian luxury, not greediness of
the Chalybonian wine or the fish of Hyrcania, but that he might reduce
all mankind as it were into one family, under one form of government
and the same custom of intercourse and conversation. This love of
virtue was thoroughly inbred, and increased and ripened as he grew in
years; so that once being to entertain the Persian ambassadors in his
father’s absence, he never asked them any questions that savored of
boyish imbecility,—never troubled them to answer any questions about
the golden vine, the pendent gardens, or what habit the king wore,—but
still desired to be satisfied in the chiefest concerns of the empire,
what force the Persians brought into the field, and in what part of the
army the king fought; as Ulysses asked,

    Where are the magazines of arms? And where
    The barbed steeds provided for the war?[210]

He also enquired which were the nearest roads for them that travelled
from the sea up into the country; at all of which the ambassadors
were astonished, and said, This youth is a great prince, but ours a
rich one. No sooner was Philip interred, but his resolution hurried
him to cross the sea; and having already grasped it in his hopes
and preparations, he made all imaginable haste to set foot in Asia.
But Fortune opposed him, diverted him, and kept him back, creating
a thousand vexatious troubles to delay and stop him. First, she
contrived the Illyrian and Triballic wars, exciting to hostility the
neighboring barbarians. But they, after many dangers run and many
terrible encounters, being at length chased even as far as Scythia
beyond the river Ister, he returned back to prosecute his first
design. But then again spiteful Fortune stirred up the Thebans against
him, and entangled him in the Grecian war, and in the dire necessity of
defending himself against his fellow-countrymen and relations with fire
and sword and hideous slaughter. Which war being brought to a dreadful
end, away he presently crossed into Asia,—as Phylarchus relates, with
only thirty days’ provision; as Aristobulus reports, with seventy
talents,—having before sold and divided among his friends his own
revenues and those of his crown. Only Perdiccas refused what he offered
him, asking him at the same time what he had left for himself. And when
Alexander replied, Nothing but hopes, Then, said he, we will be content
with the same; for it is not just to accept of thy goods, but we must
wait for those of Darius.

12. What were then the hopes with which Alexander passed into
Asia? Not a vast power mustered out of populous cities, nor fleets
sailing through mountains; not whips and fetters, the instruments of
barbarians’ fury, to curb and manacle the sea. But in his small army
there was surpassing desire of glory, emulation among those of equal
age, and a noble strife to excel in honor and virtue among friends.
Then, as for himself, he carried with him all these great hopes,—piety
towards the Gods, fidelity to his friends, generous frugality,
temperance, beneficence, contempt of death, magnanimity, humanity,
decent affability, candid integrity, constancy in counsel, quickness
in execution, love of precedence in honor, and an effectual purpose
to follow the steps of virtue. And though Homer, in describing the
beauty of Agamemnon, seems not to have observed the rules of decorum or
probability in any of his three similitudes,—

    Like thundering Jove’s, his awful head and eyes
    The gazing crowd with majesty surprise;
    In every part with form celestial graced,
    His breast like Neptune’s, and like Mars his waist;[211]

yet as for Alexander, if his celestial parents formed and composed
him of several virtues, may we not conclude that he had the wisdom of
Cyrus, the temperance of Agesilaus, the foresight of Themistocles, the
skill of Philip, the daring courage of Brasidas, the shrewdness and
political skill of Pericles? Certainly, if we compare him with the most
ancient heroes, he was more temperate than Agamemnon, who preferred
a captive before his lawful wife, though but newly wedded, while
Alexander, before he was legally married, abstained from his prisoners.
He was more magnanimous than Achilles, who accepted a small sum of
money for the redemption of Hector’s dead body, while Alexander spared
no expense to adorn the funeral of Darius. Achilles accepted gifts and
bribes from his friends, as the atonement of his wrath; Alexander,
when once a victor, enriched his enemies. He was much more pious than
Diomede, who scrupled not to fight against the Gods, while Alexander
ascribed to Heaven all his successes. Finally, he was more bewailed
of his relations than Ulysses, whose mother died for grief, while the
mother of Alexander’s enemy, out of affection, bare him company in his
death.

13. In short, if Solon proved so wise a ruler by Fortune, if Miltiades
led his armies by Fortune, if Aristides was so renowned for his
justice by Fortune, then there is nothing that can be called the
work of virtue. Then is virtue only an airy fiction, and a word that
passes with some show of glory through the life of man, but feigned
and magnified by Sophists and lawgivers. But if every one of these
whom we have mentioned was wealthy or poor, weak or strong, deformed
or beautiful, long or short lived, by Fortune, but made himself a
great captain, a great lawgiver, famous for governing kingdoms and
commonwealths, by virtue and reason; then in God’s name let us compare
Alexander with the best of them. Solon by a law made a great abatement
upon the payment of the Athenians’ private debts, which he called his
burden-easing law; Alexander discharged the debts of his Macedonians at
his own expense. Pericles, laying a tax upon the Greeks, expended the
money in building temples to beautify the citadel of Athens; Alexander
sent home ten thousand talents out of the spoils of the barbarians, for
the building of temples to the Gods all over Greece. Brasidas advanced
his fame all over Greece, by breaking through the enemy’s army lying
encamped by the seaside near Methone; but when you read of that daring
jump of Alexander’s (so astonishing to the hearers, much more to them
that beheld it) when he threw himself from the walls of the Oxydracian
metropolis among the thickest of the enemy, assailing him on every
side with spears, darts, and swords, tell me where you meet with such
an example of matchless prowess, or to what you can compare it but to
a gleam of lightning violently flashing from a cloud, and impetuously
driven by the wind? Such was the appearance of Alexander, as he leaped
like an apparition to the earth, glittering in his flaming armor. The
enemy, at first amazed and struck with horror, retreated and fell back;
till seeing him single they came on again with a redoubled force.

Now was not this a great and splendid testimony of Fortune’s kindness,
to throw him into an inconsiderable and barbarous town, and there
to enclose and immure him a prey to worthless enemies? And when his
friends made haste to his assistance, to break the scaling-ladders,
and to overthrow and cast them down? Of three that got upon the walls
and flung themselves down in his defence, endearing Fortune presently
despatched one; the other, pierced and struck with a shower of darts,
could only be said to live. Without, the Macedonians foamed and filled
the air with helpless cries, having no engines at hand. All they could
do was to dig down the walls with their swords, tear out the stones
with their nails, and almost to rend them out with their teeth. All
this while, Alexander, Fortune’s favorite, whom she always covered with
her protection, like a wild beast entangled in a snare, stood deserted
and destitute of all assistance, not laboring for Susa, Babylon,
Bactria, or to vanquish the mighty Porus. For to miscarry in great and
glorious attempts is no reproach; but so malicious was Fortune, so kind
to the barbarians, such a hater of Alexander, that she aimed not only
at his life and body, but at bereaving him of his honor and sullying
his renown. For Alexander’s fall had never been so much lamented had he
perished near Euphrates or Hydaspes by the hand of Darius, or by the
horses, swords, and axes of the Persians fighting with all their might
and main in defence of their king, or had he tumbled from the walls of
Babylon, and all his hopes together. Thus Pelopidas and Epaminondas
fell; whose death was to be ascribed to their virtue, not to such a
poor misfortune as this. But what was the singular act of Fortune’s
favor which we are now enquiring into? What indeed, but in the farthest
nook of a barbarous country, on the farther side of a river, within
the walls of a miserable village, to pen up and hide the lord and
king of the world, that he might there perish shamefully at the hands
of barbarians, who should knock him down and pelt him with whatever
came next to hand? There the first blow he received with a battle-axe
cleft his helmet and entered his skull; at the same time another shot
him with an Indian arrow in the breast near one of his paps, the head
being four fingers broad and five in length, which, together with the
weight of the shaft which projected from the wound, did not a little
torment him. But, what was worst of all, while he was thus defending
himself from his enemies before him, when he had laid a bold attempter
that approached his person sprawling upon the earth with his sword, a
fellow from a mill close by came behind him, and with a great iron
pestle gave him such a bang upon the neck as deprived him for the
present both of his senses and his sight. However, his virtue did not
yet forsake him, but supplied him still with courage, infusing strength
withal and speed into those about him. For Ptolemy, Limnaeus, and
Leonnatus, and some others who had mounted or broken through the wall,
made to his succor, and stood about him like so many bulwarks of his
virtue; out of mere affection and kindness to their sovereign exposing
their bodies, their faces, and their lives in his defence. For it is
not Fortune that overrules men to run the hazard of death for brave
princes; but the love of virtue allures them—as natural affection
charms and entices bees—to surround and guard their chief commander.

What person then, at that time beholding in security this strange
adventure, would not have confessed that he had seen a desperate combat
of Fortune against virtue, and that the barbarians were undeservedly
superior through Fortune’s help, but that the Greeks resisted beyond
imagination through the force of virtue? So that if the barbarians had
vanquished, it had been the act of Fortune or of some evil genius or
divine retribution; but as the Greeks became the victors, they owed
their conquest to their virtue, their prowess, their friendship and
fidelity to each other. For these were all the life-guard Alexander had
at that time; Fortune having interposed a wall between him and all his
other forces, so that neither fleets nor armies, cavalry nor infantry,
could stand him in any stead. Therefore the Macedonians routed the
barbarians, and buried those that fell under the ruins of their own
town. But this little availed Alexander; for he was carried off with
the dart sticking in his breast, having now a war in his own bowels,
while the arrow in his bosom was a kind of cord, or rather nail, that
was driven through his breast-plate and fastened it to his body. When
they went about to dress him, the forked shape of the iron head would
not permit the surgeons to draw it forth from the root of the wound,
being fixed in the solid parts of the breast that fortify the heart.
Nor durst they attempt to cut away the shaft that stuck out, fearing
they should put him to an excess of torment by the motion of the iron
in the cleft of the bone, and cause a new flux of blood not easy to be
stopped. Alexander, observing their hesitation and delay, endeavored
himself with a little knife to cut off the shaft close to the skin;
but his hand failed him, being seized with a heavy numbness by reason
of the inflammation of the wound. Thereupon he commanded the surgeons
and those that stood about him to try the same thing themselves and not
to be afraid, giving them all the encouragement he could. Those that
wept he upbraided for their weakness; others he called deserters, that
refused him their assistance in such a time of need. At length, calling
to his friends, he said: Let no one of you fear for me; for how shall I
believe you to be contemners of death, when you betray yourselves to be
afraid of mine?[212]


END OF VOL. I.


FOOT-NOTES:

[1] Eurip. Hercules Furens, 1261.

[2] Eurip. Hippol. 424.

[3] Ἐξ ὀνύχων ἁπαλῶν.

[4] See Plato, Repub. II. p. 377 C.

[5] Eurip. Hippol. 986.

[6] Demosth. in Mid. p. 576, 16.

[7] Plato, Repub. VII. p. 537, B.

[8] Hesiod, Works and Days, 371.

[9] From the Protesilaus of Euripides, Frag. 656.

[10] The story is related by our author at large, in the Life of
Lysander. It is this: Lysander sent by Gylippus to the Ephori, or
chief magistrates of Sparta, a great sum of money, sealed up in bags.
Gylippus unsews the bags at the bottom, and takes what he thinks fit
out of each bag, and sews them up again; but was discovered, partly by
the notes which were put in the bags by Lysander, mentioning the sums
in each bag; and partly by his own servant, who, when the magistrates
were solicitous to find what was become of the money that was wanting,
told them jestingly that there were a great many owls under the tiles
at his master’s house (for the money had that bird, as the badge of
Athens, where it was coined, stamped on it); whither they sent, and
found it.

[11] Εἰς οὐχ ὁσίην τρυμαλίην τὸ κέντρον ὠθεῖς.

[12] From the Dictys of Euripides, Frag. 342.

[13] See Plato, Repub. V. p. 468, C.

[14] See Strabo X. pp. 483, 484.

[15] This saying, Τὴν κατὰ σαυτὸν ἔλα, is attributed to Pittacus of
Mitylene by Diogenes Laertius, I. 4, 8. See also Aristoph. Nub. 25, and
Aesch. Prom. 890. (G.)

[16] Il. XXII. 373.

[17] Eurip. Orestes, 72 and 99.

[18] Il. XVII. 591.

[19] From the Thamyras of Sophocles, Frag. 224.

[20] Il. V. 216.

[21] Aesch. Prometheus, 574.

[22] Soph. Antig. 563.

[23] Il. XIX. 188.

[24] Odyss. XX. 392.

[25] Il. XXIV. 239.

[26] Sophocles, Frag. 769.

[27] Euripides, Frag. 964.

[28] _Nephalia_ (νήφω, _to be sober_) were wineless offerings, like
those to the Eumenides See Aesch. Eumen. 107: Χοάς τ’ ἀοίνους, νηφάλια
μειλίγματα. _Melisponda_ (μέλι) were offerings of honey. (G.)

[29] Οὐ κόρας ἀλλὰ πόρνας. Κόρη means either _maiden_ or _the pupil of
the eye_. (G.)

[30] Il. XXIV. 44

[31] Eurip. Bellerophon, Frag. 311.

[32] Sophocles, Frag. 772.

[33] Eurip. Medea, 290.

[34] Hesiod, Works and Days, 342.

[35] Demosth. Olynth. III. p. 33, 25. § 19.

[36] Eurip. Frag. 967. The verse is found also in Menander, Monos. 222.
(G.)

[37] Thucyd. II. 40.

[38] Eurip. Pirithous, Frag. 598.

[39] Hesiod, Works and Days, 371.

[40] Eurip. Medea, 1078.

[41] Thucyd. II. 64.

[42] Antisthenes, in his tenth tome, had a book entitled _Hercules_
or _De Prudentia_ or _De Robore_ (Ἡρακλῆς ἢ περὶ φρονήσεως ἢ ἰσχύος),
mentioned by Diogenes Laertius in his life. See Diogenes Laert. VI. 1,
9.

[43] Plato, Clitophon, p. 407 C.

[44] Aristoph. Nub. 983.

[45] See Herod. IV. 2.

[46] This is not a translation, but rather an essay by Mr. Pulleyn
based upon the text of Plutarch’s brief notes on the customs of the
Lacedaemonians. It is therefore reprinted without essential changes.
The sections of the original are marked whenever this is possible. (G.)

[47] § 13 of the original is included in the paraphrase with § 3. (G.)

[48] The three songs were—Ἄμες ποτ’ ἦμες ἄλκιμοι νεανίαι, _We once were
valiant youth_; Ἄμες δέ γ’ ἐσμέν· αἰ δὲ λῆς, αὐγάσδεο, _And we are now:
If you will, behold us_; Ἄμες δέ γ’ ἐσσόμεσθα πολλῷ κάρρονες, _And we
will soon be far more valiant_. (G.)

[49] Expressed by Plutarch in the proverb,—

  Τὰν χεῖρα ποτιφέροντα τὰν τύχαν καλεῖν,
  _As thou puttest thy hand to the work, invoke Fortune_. (G.)

[50]

  Ἀσπίδι μὲν Σαΐων τις ἀγάλλεται, ἣν παρὰ θάμνῳ
  Ἔντος ἀμώμητον κάλλιπον οὐκ ἐθέλων·
  [Αὐτὸς δ’ ἐξέφυγον Θανάτου τέλος·] ἀσπὶς ἐκείνη
  Ἐῤῥέτω· ἐξαῦτις κτήσομαι οὐ κακίω.

Archilochus, Fr. 6 (Bergk). The passage in brackets is omitted by
Plutarch. (G.)

[51] No one will attempt to _study_ this treatise on music, without
some previous knowledge of the principles of Greek music, with its
various moods, scales, and combinations of tetrachords. The whole
subject is treated by Boeckh, _De Metris Pindari_ (in Vol. I. 2 of his
edition of Pindar); and more at length in Westphal’s _Harmonik und
Melopöie der Griechen_ (in Rossbach and Westphal’s _Metrik_, Vol. II.
1).

An elementary explanation of the ordinary scale and of the names of the
notes (which are here retained without any attempt at translation) may
be of use to the reader.

The most ancient scale is said to have had only four notes,
corresponding to the four strings of the tetrachord. But before
Terpander’s time two forms of the heptachord (with seven strings) were
already in use. One of these was enlarged to an octachord (with eight
strings) by adding the octave (called νήτη). This addition is ascribed
to Terpander by Plutarch (§ 28); but he is said to have been unwilling
to increase the number of strings permanently to eight, and to have
therefore omitted the string called τρίτη, thus reducing the octachord
again to a heptachord. The notes of the full octachord in this form, in
the ordinary diatonic scale, are as follows:—

  1. ὑπάτη _e_
  2. παρυπάτη _f_
  3. λιχανός _g_
  4. μέση _a_
  5. παραμέση _b_
  6. τρίτη _c_
  7. παρανήτη _d_
  8. νήτη _e_ (octave)

The note called ὑπάτη (_hypate_, or _highest_) is the lowest in tone,
being named from its position. So νήτη or νεάτη (_nete_, or _lowest_)
is the highest in tone.

The other of the two heptachords mentioned above contained the octave,
but omitted the παραμέση and had other changes in the higher notes. The
scale is as follows:—

  1. ὑπάτη _e_
  2. παρυπάτη _f_
  3. λιχανός _g_
  4. μέση _a_
  5. τρίτη _b_
  6. παρανήτη _c_
  7. νήτη _d_

This is not to be confounded with the reduced octachord of Terpander.
This heptachord includes two tetrachords so united that the lowest
note of one is identical with the highest note of the other; while the
octachord includes two tetrachords entirely separated, with each note
distinct. The former connection is called κατὰ συναφήν, the latter
κατὰ διάζευξιν. Of the eight notes of the octachord, the first four
(counting from the lowest), ὑπάτη, παρυπάτη, λιχανός, and μέση, are the
same in the heptachord; παραμέση is omitted in the heptachord; while
τρίτη, παρανήτη, and νήτη in the heptachord are designated as τρίτη
συνημμένων, παρανήτη συνημμένων, and νήτη συνημμένων, to distinguish
them from the notes of the same name in the octachord, which sometimes
have the designation διεζευγμένων, but generally are written simply
τρίτη, &c.

These simple scales were enlarged by the addition of higher and lower
notes, four at the bottom of the scale (i.e. before ὑπάτη), called
προσλαμβανόμενος, ὑπάτη ὑπατῶν, παρυπάτη ὑπατῶν, λιχανός ὑπατῶν; and
three at the top (above νήτη), called νήτη, παρανήτη, τρίτη, each with
the designation ὑπερβολαίων. The lowest three notes of the ordinary
octachord are here designated by μέσων, when the simple names are
not used. Thus a scale of fifteen notes was made; and we have one of
eighteen by including the two classes of τρίτη, παρανήτη, and νήτη
designated by συνημμένων and διεζευγμένων.

The harmonic intervals, discovered by Pythagoras, are the _Octave_
(διὰ πασῶν,) with its ratio of 2:1; the _Fifth_ (διὰ πέντε), with its
ratio of 3:2 (λόγος ἡμιόλιος or _Sesquialter_); the _Fourth_ (διὰ
τεσσάρων), with its ratio of 4:3 (λόγος ἐπίτριτος or _Sesquiterce_);
and the _Tone_ (τόνος), with its ratio of 9:8 (λόγος ἐπόγδοος or
_Sesquioctave_). (G.)

[52] Il. I. 472.

[53] According to K. O. Müller (History of Greek Literature, Chap. XII.
§ 4), the _nomes_ were “musical compositions of great simplicity and
severity, something resembling the most ancient melodies of our church
music.” (G.)

[54] Προσόδια were songs sung to the music of flutes by processions, as
they marched to temples or altars; hence, songs of supplication. (G.)

[55] See Rossbach and Westphal, II. 1, p. 84. (G.)

[56] This seems to be the nome referred to by Pindar, Pyth. XII. 12, as
the invention of Pallas Athena. The Scholia on the passage of Pindar
tell us that the goddess represented it in the lamentation of the two
surviving Gorgons for their sister Medusa slain by Perseus, and the
hissing of the snakes which surrounded their heads,—whence the name
πολυκέφαλος, or _many-headed_. (G.)

[57] The relations of the enharmonic scale to the ordinary diatonic are
thus stated by Westphal (pp. 124-126), _b_ being here substituted for
the German _h_:—

    Enharmonic.	 	   Diatonic.
   ὑπάτη	_e_	|	_e_	ὑπάτη
παρυπάτη ἁρμον.	 δ	|
λιχανός ἁρμον.	_f_	|	_f_	παρυπάτη
 	        	|	_g_	λιχανός
μέση	        _a_	|	_a_	μέση
παραμέση	_b_	|	_b_	παραμέση
τριτη ἁρμον.	 δ	|
παρανήτη ἁρμον.	_c_	|	_c_	τρίτη
 	 	        |	_d_	παρανήτη
νήτη	        _e_	|	_e_	νήτη

The δ inserted between _e_ and _f_ and between _b_ and _c_ is called
_diesis_, and represents a quarter-tone. The section in Westphal
containing this scheme will greatly aid the interpretation of § 11 of
Plutarch. (G.)

[58] This is Volkmann’s conjecture for “spondee.” It is defined by
him (according to Aristides Quintilianus) as the raising of the tone
through three dieses (or quarter-tones). (G.)

[59] See Westphal’s interpretation of this difficult and probably
corrupt passage, II. 1, p. 89. (G.)

[60] Plato, Timaeus, p. 36 A. See the whole passage in the treatise _Of
the Procreation of the Soul as discoursed in Timaeus_, Chap. XXIX. (G.)

[61] See Rossbach, Griechische Rhythmik, p. 96, § 23. (G.)

[62] So Rossbach and Westphal interpret παρακαταλογή. Metrik, III. pp.
184, 554. (G.)

[63] It is uncertain here to whom the pronoun _he_ refers. Volkmann
transfers the whole sentence to the end of Chap. XXIX., referring it to
Lasus of Hermione. (G.)

[64] The original of this fragment of Pherecrates may be found in
Meineke’s _Poet Comic. Graec. Fragm._ II. p. 326; and in Didot’s
edition of the same fragments, p. 110. Meineke includes the verses
commonly assigned to Aristophanes in the extract from Pherecrates. (G.)

[65] The passage in brackets is out of place here, and is generally
transferred to the middle of Chapter XXXVII. (G.)

[66] See note on Chapter XXXIV.

[67] Il. IX. 186.

[68] See Section 2.

[69] Odyss. I. 152

[70] Eurip. Orestes, 258.

[71] Hesiod, Works and Days, 519.

[72] Odyss. I. 191.

[73] Il. I. 488.

[74] Il. XVII. 104.

[75] Eurip. Orestes, 232.

[76] Il. X. 88.

[77] From Eurip. Bellerophon.

[78] Pindar, Nem. IV. 6.

[79] Simonides, 5, 17.

[80] Il. III. 182.

[81] Il. II. 111.

[82] Eurip. Iph. Aul. 16.

[83] Il. XVIII. 105.

[84] Pindar, Frag. 258 (Boeckh).

[85] Odyss. VI. 130; Il. XVII. 61.

[86] Solon, Frag. 15.

[87] Hesiod, Works and Days, 25.

[88] See Il. XXIV. 527.

[89] Il. V. 484.

[90] Aesch. Philoct. Frag. 246.

[91] Eurip. Bacchae, 498.

[92] Eurip. Orestes, 396.

[93] See Il. I. 335.

[94] See Plato, Repub. I. p. 331 A.

[95] Plutarch derives δεῖμα from δέω, _to bind_, and τάρβος from
ταράσσω, _to distract_ or _confuse_. (G.)

[96] Eurip. Orestes, 211.

[97] Eurip. Troad. 759.

[98] Pindar, Pyth. I. 25.

[99] Pythagoras, Carmen Aur. 41.

[100] Archilochus, Frag. 56.

[101] Hesiod, Works and Days, 463.

[102] See Il. VII. 193; II. 382, 414.

[103] See Maccabees, I. 2, 27-38, cited by Wyttenbach. (G.)

[104] Sophocles, Oed. Tyr. 4.

[105] I leave Mr. Baxter’s conjectural version of this corrupt passage,
instead of inserting another equally conjectural. As to the original
Greek, hardly a word can be made out with certainty. (G).

[106] Il. XXIV. 604.

[107] Il. XXIV. 212.

[108] Il. XXII. 20.

[109] The Greek κλείς (clavis), _a key_, signifies also the
_collar-bone_. (G.)

[110] Il. V. 340.

[111] Μὴ σποῦδε γῆμαι, πρὶν τελευτήσαντ’ ἴδῃς. From Sophocles’s Tyro,
Frag. 596.

[112]

  Σῆμα δ’ οὐκ ἐπῆν κύκλῳ·
  Οὐ γὰρ δοκεῖν ἄριστος ἀλλ’ εἶναι θέλει,
  Βαθεῖαν ἄλοκα διὰ φρενὸς καρπούμενος,
  Ἐξ ἧς τὰ κεδνὰ βλαστάνει βουλεύματα.

Aesch. Sept. 591. Thus the passage stands in all MSS. of Aeschylus;
but it is quoted by Plutarch in his Life of Aristides, § 3, with
δίκαιος in the second verse in the place of ἄριστος. It has been
plausibly conjectured, that the actor who spoke the part intentionally
substituted the word δίκαιος as a compliment to Aristides, on seeing
him in a conspicuous place among the spectators. See Hermann’s note on
the passage in his edition of Aeschylus. (G.)

[113] See Odyss. X. 495.

[114] Ἦλθον, εἶδον, ἐνίκησα, _veni, vidi, vici_.

[115] It is doubtful what amount is here intended by Plutarch. If
sesterces are understood, the amount is much less than it is commonly
stated; and even if we understand drachmas (or denarii), we shall still
fall below the amount commonly given, which is 700,000,000 sesterces
(or about $28,000,000). See, for example, Vell. Paterc. II. 60, 4:
Sestertium septiens miliens. (G.)

[116] Il. XI. 514.

[117] Odyss. IV. 392.

[118] See Eurip. Medea. 290.

[119] Eteocles the Theban, in Eurip. Phoeniss. 524.

[120] Μηδὲν διαφέρειν ὄπισθέν τινα ἢ ἔμπροσθεν εἶναι κίναιδον.

[121] Hesiod, Works and Days, 102.

[122] The text of this passage is uncertain, and probably corrupt. I
have given Holland’s version of the doubtful expressions. (G.)

[123] Τράγος γένειον ἆρα πενθήσεις σύ γε, _Thou goat, soon thou shalt
bewail the loss of thy beard_. This verse is supposed to belong to the
Satyrdrama _Prometheus_ of Aeschylus, which was exhibited with the
trilogy to which the Persians belong. The whole tetralogy, according to
the _didascalia_, consisted of the _Phineus_, _Persians_, Glaucus, and
_Prometheus_. (G.)

[124] Aeschyl. Septem, 593. See note on page 202. (G.)

[125] Fragment 253.

[126] Fals. Legat. p. 406, 4.

[127] Eurip. Orest. 251.

[128] Eurip. Frag. No. 1071

[129] From the Adrastus of Euripides.

[130] From Euripides.

[131] Laws, V. p. 731 E.

[132] Il. IV. 350.

[133] Plato, Laws, XI. p. 935 A.

[134] Hesiod, Works and Days, 23.

[135] Solon, Frag. No. 16.

[136] Aesch. Prom. 378.

[137] From the Stheneboea of Euripides, Frag. 662.

[138] From Euripides.

[139] Eurip. Iph. Aul. 29.

[140] Il. XII. 327.

[141] Eurip. Phoeniss. 558.

[142] From the Ino of Euripides.

[143] From the Ino of Euripides.

[144] Pindar, Pyth. VIII. 135.

[145] Odyss. XVIII. 130.

[146] Il. VI. 145.

[147] Il. XXI. 463.

[148] Il. XXIV. 522.

[149] Hesiod, Works and Days, 94.

[150] From the Danae of Euripides.

[151] From Euripides.

[152] Pindar, Pyth. III. 145.

[153] Eurip. Alcestis, 792.

[154] See Odyss. XIII. 80; and Il. XIV. 231; XVI. 672; XI. 241.

[155] Plat. Phaed. pp. 66 B-67 B.

[156] From Aeschylus.

[157] Eurip. Suppliants, 1109.

[158] From the Cresphontes of Euripides.

[159] From the Hypsipyle of Euripides.

[160] Odyss. XV. 245.

[161] See the Latin version in Cicero, Tusc. III. 14, 29.

[162] Plato, Repub. X. p. 604 B.

[163] Μεῖον Τρωίλος ἐδάκρυσεν ἢ Πρίαμος is a saying of Callimachus, as
we learn from Cicero, Tusc. I. 39: Quanquam non male ait Callimachus,
_multo saepius lacrimasse Priamum quam Troilum_. (G.)

[164] Il. XXII. 56.

[165] See Il. XXIII. 109; Odyss. I. 423.

[166] Hesiod, Works and Days, 94.

[167] Eurip. Phoeniss. 555.

[168] Il. XI. 452.

[169] Il. XXIV. 744.

[170] Il. XXIII. 222; XVII. 37.

[171] Il. IX. 482.

[172] From Euripides.

[173] Il. VI. 486.

[174] Il. XX. 128.

[175] Aeschines against Ctesiphon, § 77.

[176] Plat. Gorg. 523 A-524 B.

[177] Il. I. 527.

[178] Δεικηλίκτας, the Spartan word for the more common ὑποκρίτης. (G.)

[179] Following Wyttenbach’s emendation for “I have lost my post.” (G.)

[180] That is, changing μάχεσθαι (_to fight_) into ἀναμάχεσθαι (_to
retrieve a defeat_). (G.)

[181] According to Plutarch, the Spartan iron coin weighed an Aeginetan
mina (about 1-1/2 lbs. avoir.), and was of the value of four chalci (or
3-1/4 farthings, about 1-1/2 cents). (G.)

[182] Herod. I. 8.

[183] Simonides, Frag. No. 47.

[184] Odyss. XVII. 222.

[185] Plato, Republic, V. p. 474 D.

[186] Antigone, 232.

[187]

  Εἰς τὸν λειμῶνα καθίσας
  ἔδρεπεν ἕτερον ἐφ’ ἑτέρῳ
  αἰρόμενος ἄγρευμα ἀνθέων
  ἡδομένᾳ ψυχᾷ,
  τὸ νήπιον ἄπληστον ἔχων.

From the Hypsipyle of Euripides.

[188] Il. IX. 482.

[189] Sophocles, Frag. 778.

[190] Il. XXIII. 77.

[191] See Odyss. IV. 178.

[192] See Il. V. 902.

[193] Sophocles, Oed. Tyr. 4.

[194] From Menander.

[195] Eurip. Hippol. 253.

[196] Eurip. Pirith. Frag. 598.

[197] Thucyd. II. 51.

[198] Theognis vs. 215.

[199] Il. IX. 325.

[200] Il. III. 179.

[201] Il. IX. 189.

[202] Il. XII. 243.

[203] Demosthenes on the Crown, p. 258, 20.

[204] Thucyd. II. 87.

[205] Alcman, Frag. 27.

[206] Aristophanes, Knights, 1056.

[207] From the Erechtheus of Euripides.

[208] Il. XI. 265.

[209] Il. V. 340.

[210] Il. X. 407.

[211] Il. II. 478.

[212] See foot-note at the end of the First Oration on Alexander.




INDEX.


  A.

  “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” a proverb among the
      Greeks, iv. 229.

  “Abstain from beans,” meaning of the aphorism, i. 29.

  Achelous, a river in Aetolia, v. 504.

  Acrotatus, apothegm of, i. 400.

  Actaeon, a beautiful youth of Corinth, murdered, iv. 313-315.

  Ada, queen of Caria, sends delicacies to Alexander, i. 199.

  Adimantus, admiral of the Corinthian fleet at the battle of Salamis,
    iv. 362;
    his courage vindicated, 364.

  Adrastus, anecdote of, i. 288.

  Advice to a new-married couple, ii. 486-507.

  Aeacus, his two sons, v. 466.

  Aemilius Censorinus, v. 475.

  Aemilius of Sybaris, v. 464.

  Aemilius Paulus, sayings of, i. 232; iv. 202.

  Aeolus, king of Etruria, v. 467.

  Aeschines, quoted, Prom., i. 40;
    anecdote of, 55;
    Eumen., 59;
    Frag., 163;
    Prom., 299;
    Ctesiphon, 334;
    his early life, and concern in public affairs, v. 34;
    incurs the hostility of Demosthenes, _ib._;
    accused by Demosthenes and acquitted, 34, 35;
    impeaches Ctesiphon, is fined and exiled, 35;
    his school at Rhodes, _ib._;
    his death, _ib._;
    his orations, _ib._;
    his public employments, 36.

  Aeschylus, quoted, Septem, i. 210, 286, 315, 329, 493;
    quoted, ii. 47;
    anecdote of, 77, 160;
    Frag., 48, 83, 127, 165, 374, 431, 458, 463, 474, 477;
    quoted, iii. Frag., 24, 222;
    quoted, iv. 20, 54, 385;
    Frag., 276, 279;
    quoted, v. Frag., 170;
    Prom., 241, 320, 398.

  Aesop, murdered by the citizens of Delphi, iv. 160;
    their punishment, 161.
    _See Esop._

  Agamedes and Trophonius built the temple at Delphi, i. 313.

  Agasicles, apothegms of, i. 385.

  Agatharchides the Samian, his Persian History, v. 451.

  Agatho the Samian, v. 474.

  Agathocles, anecdote of, i. 46; ii. 317.

  Aged Men, Shall they meddle in State Affairs?, v. 64-96.

  Agesianax quoted, v. 235, 236.

  Agesilaus, reply of, i. 73, 219, 220;
    his sayings and great actions, 385-397;
    his upright character, ii. 109, 115, 319, 455;
    his punishment, iii. 46, 79;
    anecdote of, v. 67;
    his faults, 118; 457;
    his Italian History, 468.

  Agesipolis, two of the name, apothegms of, i. 397, 398.

  Agis, king of Sparta, his sayings, i. 218, 221;
    anecdote of, v. 95.

  Agis, son of Archidamus, apothegm of, i. 398.

  Agis the Argive, ii. 125.

  Agis the Last, apothegm of, i. 400.

  Agis the Younger, apothegms of, i. 400.

  Ajax’s soul, her place in Hell, iii. 442.

  Alba, king of, torn in pieces by horses, v. 455.

  Albinus, a Roman general, v. 453.

  Alcaeus quoted, ii. 298; iii, 264.

  Alcamenes, apothegm of, i. 400.

  Alcibiades, i. 143;
    his sayings, 211;
    his lustful conduct, 489;
    the prince of flatterers, ii. 108, 471;
    failure of, 460;
    spoke with hesitation, v. 110, 112.

  Alcippus, a Lacedaemonian, banished for his virtue; his wife slays
    herself and her daughters, iv. 320-322.

  Alcmaeon, saying of, i. 288;
    philosophical opinions;
    of the planets, iii. 140;
    of hearing, 170;
    of smelling, 170;
    of taste, 170;
    of the barrenness of mules, 182;
    of embryos, 184;
    of the formation of the body, 184;
    of the cause of sleep, 188;
    of health, sickness, and old age, 192.

  Alcmaeonidae, unfairly represented by Herodotus, iv. 338, 347.

  Alcman, quoted; Frag., i. 494; iii. 16; v. 279.

  Aleuas the Thessalian, iii. 67.

  Alexander of Macedon, and Porus, i. 45;
    lament of, 140;
    and Criso the runner, 152;
    his sayings, 198-202;
    the Fortune or Virtue of, 475-516;
    anecdotes of, ii. 125, 138, 473;
    his moderation, 475; iii. 29;
    was he a great drinker, 219;
    his purpose to attack the Romans, iv. 219; v. 140.

  Alexander, tyrant of Pherae, his cruel temper softened by a play, i. 492.

  Alexandridas, apothegm of, i. 401.

  Alexarchus, his Italian History, v. 456.

  Alexidemas, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

  Alexinus the sophist, i. 76.

  Alexis quoted, ii. 58.

  Alpha, why placed first in the Alphabet, iii. 438.

  Alpheus, a river in Arcadia, v. 501.

  Amasis, king of Egypt, required to drink the ocean dry, ii. 13;
    questions of, 16.

  Ammonius, teacher of Plutarch, anecdote of, ii. 147.

  Amphiaraus, quoted, i. 317;
    his lance turned into a laurel, v. 455.

  Amphidamas, poets meet at his grave in Chalcis, ii. 19.

  Amphion, first invented playing on the harp and lyric poesy, i. 105.

  Anarcharsis, and Eumetis, ii. 8;
    his utterances at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, 12, 15, 20,
      21, 27, 39.

  Anatole, a mountain, v. 482.

  Anaxagoras, saying of, i. 159;
    said the sun was red-hot metal, 179;
    anecdote of, 332; ii. 357; iii. 35, 37;
    philosophical opinions;
    Homoeomeries, 108;
    of the origin of bodies, 119;
    how bodies are mixed, 126;
    of fortune, 131;
    of the world’s inclination, 136;
    of the stars, 138, 140;
    of the sun, 142, 143;
    of the moon, 145, 147;
    of the milky way, 149;
    of shooting stars, 150;
    of thunder, lightning and hurricanes, 151;
    of the rainbow, 153;
    of earthquakes, 157;
    of the sea, 158;
    of the overflow of the Nile, 160;
    of the voice, 172;
    of generation, 178;
    of the generation of animals, 186;
    of reason in animals, 187;
    of sleep, 190; v. 145, 255.

  Anaxander, apothegm of, i. 401.

  Anaxilas, apothegm of, i. 402.

  Anaximander, philosophical opinions;
    of principles, iii. 107;
    the stars were heavenly deities, 121;
    of the stars, 140;
    of the essence and magnitude of the sun, 141, 142;
    of eclipses of the sun, 144;
    of the moon, 145;
    of fire from clouds, 150;
    of winds, 154;
    of the earth, 155;
    of the sea, 158;
    of the generation of animals, 186.

  Anaximenes, philosophical opinions;
    air is the principle of all beings, iii. 107;
    of heaven, 137;
    of the stars, 139, 140;
    cause of summer and winter, 141;
    of the shape of the sun and summer and winter solstice, 143;
    of the moon, 146;
    of clouds, 151;
    of the rainbow, 153;
    of the earth, 155;
    of earthquakes, 157; v. 313.

  Ancients, suppers of the, iii. 255-259.

  Andocides, one of the ten Attic orators, v. 21-23;
    of a noble family, 21;
    accused of impious acts, 22;
    his adventures in Cyprus, 22, 23;
    his exile, 23;
    his orations, _ib._

  Androclidas, apothegm of, i. 402.

  Anecdotes of
    Aeschylus, ii. 458.
    Agathocles, i. 46.
    Agesilaus, i. 73, 219, 220; v. 67, 118.
    Agis, king of Sparta, v. 95.
    Alcibiades, ii. 108, 109.
    Alexander the Great, i. 45; ii. 473.
    Ammonius, ii. 147.
    Anaxagoras, i. 332.
    Antigonus, i. 44, 47, 67, 202, 205, 334; iv. 231.
    Antimachus, i. 307.
    Antiochus Hierax, iii. 60.
    Antipater, i. 64, 197, 205, 215.
    Antony and Cleopatra, ii. 127.
    Apelles the painter, i. 16, 153; ii. 122, 133.
    Appius Claudius, v. 89.
    Arcesilaus and Apelles, ii. 133.
    Archelaus of Macedon, i. 67, 193.
    Archidamus, i. 74.
    Archimedes, ii. 174; v. 71.
    Archytas of Tarentum, i. 18, 24.
    Aristippus, i. 11, 55, 147, 459; ii. 55.
    Athenian barber, iv. 238.
    Attalus and Eumenes, iii. 61.
    Augustus Caesar and Fulvius, iv. 235, 236.
    Bocchoris, i. 63.
    Brasidas, ii. 458.
    Caesar, i. 293; iv. 204, 205; v. 67.
    Cato, i. 295; ii. 490.
    Cato and Catulus, i. 73.
    Cleon, v. 100, 116.
    Corinna, v. 404.
    Crassus, i. 288, 290.
    Croesus and Solon, ii. 122.
    Demades and Phocion, ii. 298.
    Demaratus and Philip, ii. 146.
    Demetrius Phalereus, ii. 145; iii. 21.
    Demosthenes, i. 15, 65, 334; ii. 460; v. 43-53.
    Diogenes, i. 51, 67, 141, 142, 166, 283,
    285, 311, 487; ii. 455, 458; iii, 21, 29.
    Diogenes and Philip, ii. 147.
    Diogenes and the mouse, ii. 453.
    Dion, i. 64, 333.
    Dionysius of Syracuse, i. 83, 152, 493; ii. 108, 140; iv. 238.
    Epaminondas, v. 72, 95, 101, 120, 121, 125, 401.
    Euclid, i. 55.
    Eudoxus, ii. 174.
    Eumenes, iii. 61; iv. 232.
    Fulvius and Augustus, iv. 235, 236.
    Hiero, i. 291.
    Hyperides, v. 55, 56.
    Isocrates, v. 31.
    Leaena, iv. 229, 230.
    Lucretia, i. 355.
    Lycurgus, the lawgiver, i. 7.
    Lycurgus, the orator, v. 39.
    Lysander, i. 72; ii. 495.
    Lysias, iv. 226.
    Magas, i. 45.
    Menander, v. 403.
    Nasica, i. 285.
    Nero, v. 123.
    Nicias, the Athenian general, i. 177.
    Nicias, the painter, ii. 173; v. 71.
    Nicostratus and Archidamus, i. 74.
    Olympias, ii. 494, 495.
    Pericles, i. 15, 18, 66, 211, 332; ii. 309, 315; v. 67, 106.
    Philip of Macedon, i. 305; ii. 146, 147, 494.
    Phocion, ii. 298; v. 118.
    Pindar, v. 404.
    Pisistratus, iii. 41.
    Plato, i. 71.
    Plato and Socrates, ii. 148.
    Polemon, i. 55.
    Pompey, v. 70.
    Postumia, i. 290.
    Priest of Hercules, iii. 90.
    Prometheus, i. 289.
    Ptolemy Lagus, i. 45.
    Pythagoras, ii. 174.
    Roman Senator and his wife, iv. 233-235.
    Scaurus, i. 295.
    Scilurus, a Scythian king, iv. 244.
    Seleucus Callinicus, iv. 237.
    Seneca, i. 53.
    Simonides, v. 68.
    Socrates, i. 11, 13, 23, 26, 38, 53, 141, 150.
    Socrates and Plato, ii. 148.
    Solon, v. 89.
    Solon and Croesus, ii. 122.
    Sophocles, v. 68.
    Stasicrates, i. 495.
    Stilpo the philosopher, ii. 468.
    Stratonicus, iii. 21.
    Sylla, v. 72.
    Terpander, i. 91, 92.
    Themistocles, i. 73, 290, 296; iii. 21; v. 120.
    Theramenes, i. 306.
    Timotheus the musician, i. 92.
    Valeria, i. 356.
    Xanthippe, wife of Socrates, i. 53, 292.
    Xenocrates, i. 71.
    Xenophon, i. 333.
    Xerxes and Ariamenes, iii. 59, 60.
    Zeno, i. 72, 142, 283; ii. 455; iii. 25; iv. 225.

  Anger, concerning the cure of, i. 33-59.

  Animal Food, shall it be eaten? Of Eating of Flesh, v. 3-16.

  Animals, generation of, iii. 186;
    how many species of, 187;
    appetites and pleasures of, 191;
    ails and cures of, 510;
    their intelligence, v. 157-217.

  Anius, king of the Tuscans, v. 475.

  Antalcidas, his sayings, i. 222, 402;
    his reply to a railing Athenian, v. 125.

  Anthes, the first author of hymns, i. 105.

  Anthias, the sacred fish, v. 208.

  Anthipphus, Lydian harmony first used by, i. 114.

  Antichthon, the, iii. 155.

  Antigonus, anecdote of, i. 25;
    saying of, 44, 47, 67, 202, 205, 334, 484; iv. 231.

  Antigonus the Second, his sayings, i. 205; ii. 319.

  Antimachus, anecdote of, i. 308.

  Antiochus and Charicles, iii. 49.

  Antiochus and Seleucus, iii. 60.

  Antiochus, apothegm of, i. 403.

  Antiochus Hierax, anecdotes of, i. 206; iii. 60.

  Antiochus Sidetes, anecdotes of, i. 207.

  Antiochus the Spartan, his saying, i. 221.

  Antiochus the Third, anecdotes of, i. 206.

  Antipater, anecdotes of, i. 64, 197, 205, 215; ii. 135, 298; iii. 517;
      v. 49.

  Antiperistasis of motion, v. 435.

  Antiphanes, witty saying of his, ii. 456.

  Antiphon, one of the ten Attic orators, ii. 142; v. 17-21;
    his birth, education, &c., 17;
    wrote speeches for others, _ib._;
    a man of great talent and learning, 18;
    concerned in the revolution which subverted the popular government,
      _ib._;
    on the overthrow of the oligarchical party he was involved in their
      ruin, _ib._;
    number of his orations, 19;
    decree of the senate against him, 20;
    his condemnation and punishment, 21;
    opinion concerning the moon, iii. 146;
    of the sea, 158.

  Antisthenes quoted, i. 77, 289, 496; v. 125.

  Antony and Cleopatra, ii. 127.

  Apelles, the painter, anecdotes of, i. 16, 153;
    his picture of Alexander, 494;
    and Megabyzus, ii. 122;
    and Arcesilaus, 133.

  Aphareus, adopted son of Isocrates, wrote orations and tragedies, v. 32.

  Apis, the sacred bull of the Egyptians, iv. 68;
   slain by Ochus, king of Persia, 74, 92.

  Apollo and the dragon Python, iv. 20.

  Apollo, inventor of the flute and harp, i. 113.

  Apollo, temple of, iv. 478-498;
   the inscription ει over its gate, 479.

  Apollodorus, first invented the mixing of colors and the softening of
  shadows, v. 400.

  Apollonides, of shadow, v. 265;
    of spots in the moon, 269.

  Apollonis of Cyzicum, iii. 41.

  Apollonius, consolation to, i. 299-339.

  Apollonius, the Peripatetic, iii. 57.

  Apothegms of Kings and Great Commanders, i. 185-250.
    Agathocles, sayings of, i. 193.
    Agesilaus, 219.
    Agis, 218-221.
    Alcibiades, 211.
    Alexander the Great, 198-202.
    Antalcidas, 222.
    Antigonus, 202.
    Antigonus the Second, 205.
    Antiochus Sidetes, 207.
    Antiochus the Spartan, 221.
    Antiochus the Third, 206.
    Antipater, 205.
    Archelaus, 193.
    Archidamus, 218.
    Aristides, 210.
    Artaxerxes Longimanus, 187.
    Artaxerxes Mnemon, 188.
    Ateas, 189.
    Augustus Caesar, 248-250.
    Brasidas, 218.
    Caecilius Metellus, 239.
    Caius Fabricius, 227.
    Caius Marius, 239.
    Caius Popilius, 240.
    Cato the Elder, 233-235.
    Chabrias, 213.
    Charillus, 217.
    Cicero, 244.
    Cneus Domitius, 231.
    Cneus Pompeius, 241-244.
    Cotys, 189.
    Cyrus the Elder, 186.
    Cyrus the Younger, 188.
    Darius, 186.
    Demetrius, 204.
    Demetrius Phalereus, 217.
    Dion, 193.
    Dionysius the Elder, 191.
    Dionysius the Younger, 192.
    Epaminondas, 222-226.
    Eudaemonidas, 221.
    Eumenes of Pergamus, 206.
    Fabius Maximus, 227-228.
    Gelo, 190.
    Hegesippus, 213.
    Hiero, 190.
    Idathyrsus, 189.
    Iphicrates, 212.
    Lucullus, 241.
    Lycurgus, 217.
    Lysander, 219.
    Lysimachus, 205.
    Manius Curius, 226.
    Memnon, 189.
    Nicostratus, 221.
    Orontes, 188.
    Parysatis, 188.
    Paulus Aemilius, 232.
    Pelopidas, 225.
    Pericles, 211.
    Philip of Macedon, 194-198.
    Phocion, 213, 216.
    Pisistratus, 216.
    Poltys, 189.
    Ptolemy Lagus, 202.
    Pyrrhus the Epirot, 207.
    Pytheas, 213.
    Scilurus, 190.
    Scipio Junior, 235-239.
    Scipio the Elder, 229.
    Semiramis, 187.
    Teres, 189.
    Themistocles, 208.
    Theopompus, 217.
    Timotheus, 212.
    Titus Quinctius, 230.
    Xerxes, 187.

  Appius Claudius, anecdote of, v. 89.

  Apple tree, of the, iii. 333.

  Arar, a river in Gaul, v. 484.

  Aratus, quoted, iii. 116;
    of the stars, 141;
    quoted, 334, 497; iv. 98; v. 112;
    quoted, 177.

  Araxes, a river in Armenia, v. 506.

  Arcadian prophet in Herodotus, iii. 38.

  Arcadio the Archaean, saying of, i. 44.

  Arcesilaus, i. 53, 148;
    quoted, 258, 315;
    and Battus, ii. 115;
    his kindness to Apelles, 133; v. 371.

  Archelaus, king of Macedon, anecdote of, i. 67, 193.

  Archelaus, his opinions concerning principles, iii. 109.

  Archias, ii. 379 _et seq._; iv. 314, 315.

  Archidamidas, apothegms of, i. 404.

  Archidamus, i. 4, 74, 218, 404; ii. 379 _et seq._

  Archilochus the poet, banished from Sparta, i. 96;
    quoted, 97;
    his improvements in music, 122, 123, 177;
    phrase of, ii. 17, 61, 84; iii. 26; v. 108, 216, 320.

  Archimedes, of the sun’s diameter, v. 71;
    anecdote of, ii. 173, 174.

  Archytas of Tarentum, anecdotes of, i. 18, 24.

  Ardalus, a minstrel at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 11, 12.

  Aregeus, apothegm of, i. 403.

  Aretades Cnidus, his Macedonian History, v. 458;
    his Second Book of Islands, 467.

  Aretaphila, her fortitude and virtue, i. 367.

  Argive women, their repulse of the Spartan army, i. 346.

  Argives, wrestling matches of, i. 121;
    imposed a fine for playing with more than seven strings, 130;
    combat of the, with the Lacedaemonians, v. 452.

  Ariamenes yields the throne of Persia to his younger brother Xerxes,
  iii. 59.

  Arion and the dolphins, ii. 33-36.

  Aristarchus, iii. 36;
    concerning the eclipse of the sun, 144; v. 246.

  Aristides, his Persian History, v. 453.

  Aristides, his sayings, i. 210.

  Aristides Milesius, his Italian History, v. 451, 452, 453, 458, 459,
      460, 462, 463, 465, 466, 469, 473, 474, 475, 476;
    Italian Commentaries, 461;
    quoted, 462.

  Aristippus, anecdotes of, i. 11, 55, 79, 147; ii. 295, 459.

  Aristo of Chios, ii. 369.

  Aristobolus, his Third Book of Italian History, v. 470.

  Aristocles, Third Book of his Italian History, v. 466, 476.

  Aristoclia, a beautiful maiden, iv. 312, 313.

  Aristodemus, his Third Collection of Fables, v. 472.

  Aristodemus, king of Messenia, i. 177.

  Aristodemus the Epicurean, ii. 158, 159, 180.

  Aristomenes, preceptor of Ptolemy, ii. 149.

  Ariston, apothegm of, i. 403; iii. 18;
    his opinion of moral virtue, 462; v. 111.

  Aristonicus the musician, i. 494.

  Aristonymus, a woman hater, v. 468.

  Aristophanes, his comedy of “The Clouds,” i. 23;
    quoted, 79, 125, 500;
    quoted, ii. 78, 149, 429;
    his coarseness and buffoonery, iii. 11;
    compared with Menander, 11-14;
    quoted, iv. 196, 273;
    quoted, v. 42, 405.

  Aristotinus, tyranny of, i. 357-363; v. 172.

  Aristotle, quoted, i. 37; 50;
    on harmony, 119; 155, 272, 326;
    the teacher of Alexander, 478, ii. 302, 319;
    letter of, 455;
    his philosophical opinions; of nature, 105;
    of principles and elements, 106;
    of God, 121;
    of matter, 123;
    of ideas, 123;
    of causes, 124;
    of a vacuum, 127;
    of motion, 128;
    of fortune, 131;
    of the world, 133, 134, 135;
    of vacuum, 137;
    of the world, 137;
    of heaven, 137;
    of the stars, 140;
    of the sun, 142;
    of the summer and winter solstices, 143;
    of the moon, 146;
    of the milky way, 148, 149;
    of comets, 149;
    of thunder and lightning, 151;
    of earthquakes, 157;
    of tides, 159;
    of the motion of the soul, 164;
    of the senses, 166;
    of the voice, 172;
    of generative seed, 177;
    of the sperm, 177;
    of emission of women, 177;
    of conception, 178;
    of generation, 179;
    of the first form in the womb, 184;
    of seven months’ children, 185;
    of the species of animals, 187;
    of sleep, 189;
    of plants, 190;
    quoted, 225, 226;
    opinions concerning the soul, 465;
    opinion concerning a plurality of worlds, iv. 33;
    concerning prophetic inspiration, 54; v. 189, 253, 262,
    313, 316, 355;
    quoted, 439;
    the Second Book of Paradoxes, 468.

  Aristoxenus, of music, i. 114, 115, 125, 134.

  Arsinoe, Queen, i. 319.

  Artaxerxes Longimanus, his sayings, i. 187.

  Artaxerxes Mnemon, his sayings, i. 188.

  Aruntius and Medullina, v. 463.

  Asclepiades, opinions: of the soul, iii. 161;
    of respiration, 174;
    of two or three children at one birth, 180;
    animals in the womb, 188;
    of health, sickness, and old age, 193.

  Aster the archer, v. 456.

  Astycratidas, apothegm of, i. 405.

  Ateas, saying of, i. 189; ii. 177.

  Atepomarus, king of the Gauls, v. 469.

  Atheism and superstition compared, i. 168 _et seq._

  Athenian citizens, their number, v. 42;
    their temper and disposition, 100.

  Athenians, whether they were more renowned for their warlike
    achievements, or for their learning, v. 399-411.

  Athenodorus, memorable action of, iii. 50.

  Athens, was a democracy, v. 397;
    the nurse of history, of painting, and poetry, 400, 401;
    not renowned for epic or lyric verse, 404.

  Atoms, doctrine of, v. 345-348.

  Atreus and Thyestes, v. 470, 471.

  Attalus and Eumenes, their kindness and fidelity to each other, iii.
  61, 62.

  Attica, invasion of, by Datis, v. 450, 451.

  Augustus Caesar, his sayings, i. 248-250;
    the favored son of Fortune, iv. 205; v. 67.

  Augustus Caesar and Fulvius, anecdote of, iv. 235, 236.

  Autobulus, v. 156 _et seq._

  Autumn, dreams in, iii. 432.


  B.

  Baccho, iv. 256, 264, 269.

  Bacchus, ii. 12, 29.

  Ballenaeus, mount, v. 492.

  Banishment, or flying one’s country, iii. 15-35.

  Banquet of the Seven Wise Men; Solon, Bias, Thales, Anacharsis,
    Cleobulus, Pittacus, Chilo, ii. 3-41.

  Barley, sow, in dust, iii. 505.

  Barrenness in women, iii. 181.

  Barrenness of mules, iii. 182.

  Bashfulness, i. 60-77.

  Basilocles, iii. 69, 70.

  Baths, hot and cold, iii. 512.

  Battus, ii. 115.

  Bear, cunning of the, v. 185.

  Bears, flesh of, iii. 509.

  Beasts, flesh of sacrificial, iii. 361.

  Bees, cannot abide smoke, iii. 515;
    stinging of, 516.

  Bellerophon, fable of, i. 351.

  Berecyntus, mount, v. 490.

  Berosus concerning the eclipse of the moon, iii. 146.

  Bewitching, power of, iii. 327.

  Bias, quoted, i. 17, 406;
    at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 4, 14, 128.

  Bion, saying of, i. 76;
    his opinion concerning the punishment of children for the sins of their
      fathers, iv. 171;
    saying of, v. 170.

  Bird or the egg, which was first, iii. 242-246.

  Birds, prophetic nature of, v. 193.

  Birth, two or three at one, iii. 180.

  Birthdays of famous men, iii. 400.

  Biton and Cleobis, their filial piety, i. 313.

  Boar and the toil, iii. 512.

  Bocchoris, anecdote of, i. 63.

  Bodies, of, iii. 124;
    division of, 126;
    how mixed with one another, 126.

  Body, passions of the, iii. 175;
    what part is first formed, 184;
    diseases of the, iv. 504-508.

  Boedromion, month of, iii. 444.

  Boethus, his opinion concerning comets, iii. 150.

  Book of Rivers, v. 455.

  Brasidas, apothegm of, i. 218; ii. 458.

  Brennus, king of the Gauls, v. 460.

  Britain, longevity in, iii. 193.

  Brixaba, mount, v. 494.

  Brotherly love, iii. 36-68.

  Brute animals, ails and cures of, iii. 510;
    their intelligence; which are the more crafty, water or land
    animals? v. 157-217.

  Brute beasts make use of reason, v. 218-233.

  Bucephalus, the horse, v. 183.

  Bulimy, or the greedy disease, iii. 355.

  Busiris, king of Egypt, strangers murdered by, v. 474.


  C.

  Caecilius Metellus, apothegm of, i. 239.

  Caesar, Augustus, his sayings, i. 248-250;
    anecdote of, iv. 205;
    and Fulvius, 235, 236; v. 67, 132.

  Caesar, C. Julius, his sayings, i. 246-248;
    his magnanimity, 293;
    his reliance on fortune, iv. 205.

  Caesar, Tiberius, sayings of, i. 277; ii. 126; iii. 23.

  Caicus, a river, v. 503.

  Caius Fabricius, apothegm of, i. 227.

  Caius Gracchus, i. 40; v. 99.

  Caius Marius, apothegm of, i. 239.

  Caius Maximus, and his two sons, v. 466.

  Caius Popilius, apothegm of, i. 240.

  Callicratidas, apothegms of, i. 412;
    saying of, ii. 187.

  Callimachus, saying of, i. 323; iii. 23, 118, 321.

  Callisthenes, saying of, i. 37;
    his Book of Transformations, v. 454;
    Third Book of the Macedonics, 456;
    Third Book of History of Thrace, v. 469.

  Calpurnius Crassus, liberated from captivity, v. 465.

  Calpurnius and Florentia, v. 467.

  Calydon, mount, v. 505.

  Camillus, anecdote of, iv. 204.

  Camma, the Galatian, her revenge, i. 372.

  Canus the piper, v. 71.

  Caphene and Nymphaeus, i. 348.

  Caphisias, ii. 379 _et seq._

  Carneades, i. 160;
    a striking observation of his, ii. 123.

  Cassius, a Roman traitor, v. 457.

  Castor and Pollux, iii. 48.

  Cato and Catulus, anecdotes of, i. 73.

  Cato, saying of, i. 61;
    and Catulus, 73; 261;
    his integrity, 295;
    his sayings, ii. 42, 72, 76, 318; v. 10, 66, 67;
    anecdotes of, 83, 112, 120, 123, 144, 155.

  Cato the Elder, apothegms of, i. 233-235;
    anecdote of, ii. 490.

  Catoptrics, doctrine of the, v. 257.

  Cattle, salt given to, iii. 497.

  Catulus, v. 457.

  Caucasus, mount, v. 483.

  Caudine Forks, defeat of the Romans at the, v. 452, 453.

  Causes, of, iii. 123.

  Causes of sleep and death, iii. 188.

  Celtic women, virtue of the, i. 347.

  Cephisocrates, ii. 133.

  Cephisophan, a rhetorician, i. 98.

  Ceres, mistress of earthly things, v. 285, 286.

  Chabrias, his sayings, i. 213.

  Chaeremon quoted, Frag., ii. 475.

  Chameleon, the, v. 202.

  Chaplet of flowers at table, iii. 260-265.

  Charicles and Antiochus, iii. 49.

  Charillus, his sayings, i. 217, 432; ii. 97, 116.

  Charon, the Theban, ii. 381.

  Chasms in the earth closed by men leaping into them, v. 454.

  Chersias at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

  Chian women, virtue of the, i. 344.

  Children, training of, i. 3-32;
    similitude to their parents, iii. 180;
    similitude to strangers, 181.

  Chilo, i. 280;
    at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

  Chilon, saying of, i. 471.

  Chiomara of Galatia, i. 374.

  Chorus of the Aeantis, iii. 226-228.

  Chorus of the Leontis, iii. 226.

  Chromatic scale, in music, i. 117.

  Chrysermus, his Peloponnesian History, v. 452;
    Second Book of Histories, 457.

  Chrysippus, ii. 87;
    his opinion concerning fate, iii. 130;
    of moral virtue, 462;
    his doctrines refuted, 488; iv. 372 _et seq._, 428-477; v. 205;
    his opinion concerning the cause of cold combated, 324;
    First Book of Italian History, 468.

  Cicero, apothegm of, i. 244; ii. 310; v. 96.

  Cilician geese, v. 175.

  Cinesias, the lyric poet, i. 180.

  Cinna stoned to death, v. 469.

  Cios, maids of, i. 354.

  Circe, her supposed conversation with Ulysses, v. 218-219.

  Cithaeron, mount, v. 479.

  Cleanthes, his opinion concerning the stars, iii. 139, 140; v. 176, 420.

  Cleobis and Biton, i. 313.

  Cleobulus at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

  Cleodemus, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41;
    first brought the cupping-glass into request, 20.

  Cleodorus, the physician, ii. 16.

  Cleombrotus, i. 413; iv. 3, 4, 26.

  Cleomenes, v. 161.

  Cleomenes, apothegms of, i. 346, 413, 416.

  Cleon, anecdotes of, v. 100, 116.

  Clisthenes, vindicated from the aspersions of Herodotus, iv. 343.

  Clitonymus, his Italian History, v. 458;
    Second Book of his Sybaritics, v. 464.

  Clitophon, his First Book of Gallican History, v. 460.

  Cloelia and Valeria, i. 356.

  Clonas, a musical composer, i. 107, 109.

  Clouds, eruption of fire out of the, iii. 150;
    rain, hail, and snow, 151.

  Cneus Domitius, apothegm of, i. 231.

  Cneus Pompeius, apothegms of, i. 241-244.

  Cocles, the Roman, v. 145.

  Codrus, king of Athens, v. 462.

  Coeranus and the dolphins, v. 215.

  Cold, First Principle of, v. 309-330.

  Color, does it exist in the dark, v. 344, 345.

  Colors, of, iii. 125.

  Colotes, the Epicurean, ii. 187;
    book written by, v. 338;
    misrepresents Democritus, 341;
    his doctrines, 349;
    misrepresents Plato, 355, 356;
    falls at the feet of Epicurus, 360;
    disparagement of Socrates, 361;
    against Stilpo, 367;
    assaults the Philosophers, 367;
    condemns the opinion of Epicurus, 368;
    Cyrenaic philosophers ridiculed, 369;
    treats Arcesilaus unfairly, 371;
    absurdity of Epicureanism, 373;
    opinions of Epicurus, 374;
    danger of his doctrines, 377, 378, 338-385.

  Comets and shooting fires, iii. 149.

  Comminius Super, a Laurentine, v. 472.

  Common conceptions against the Stoics, iv. 372-427.

  Comparison between the actions of the Greeks and Romans, v. 450-476.

  Comparison betwixt Aristophanes and Menander, iii. 11-14.

  Conception, how it is made, iii. 178.

  Concerning Music, i. 102-135.

  Concerning such whom God is slow to punish, iv. 140-188.

  Concerning the fortune of the Romans, iv. 198-219.

  Concerning the virtues of women, i. 340-384.

  Conciseness of speech, recommended, iv. 243;
    examples given, 243, 244.

  Conjugal Precepts; Advice to a New-married Couple, ii. 486-507.

  Consolation to Apollonius, i. 299-339.

  Consolatory Letter from Plutarch to his Wife, Timoxena, on Occasion
    of the Death of their Daughter, two years old, v. 386-394.

  Contingent and possible defined, v. 299.

  Contradictions of the Stoics, iv. 428-477.

  Cora and Proserpine, v. 285.

  Corinna, anecdote of, v. 404.

  Corinthian Hall at Delphi, iii. 80-82.

  Cornelius Scipio, consul, v. 96, 112, 114, 136.

  Cotys, his sayings, i. 189.

  Crabs charmed by fifes, v. 163.

  Cranes, flight of, v. 175, 203.

  Crantor, quoted, i. 300, 304, 324, 326;
    his opinion of the soul, ii. 327, 328, 345, 349, 360.

  Crassus, anecdotes of, i. 288, 290; v. 125.

  Crassus Calpurnius, v. 465.

  Crassus’s mullet, v. 196.

  Crates, i. 141;
    saying of, 495; ii. 145, 321;
    opinion of the stars, iii. 140; v. 419, 423.

  Cratinus the comic poet, v. 410.

  Crato, iii. 198.

  Creon’s daughter, i. 472.

  Cretinus, the Magnesian, v. 121.

  Criticism on passages in Homer, ii. 69-72, 74-84, 89, 90, 91.

  Criticism on Sophocles, ii. 72.

  Critolaus, his History of the Epirots, v. 455;
    Fourth Book of Celestial Appearances, 457.

  Crocodile, story of a, v. 196, 206, 210.

  Croesus, ii. 122; iii. 85; iv. 339.

  Cronium, mount, v. 501.

  Ctesiphon, his Third Book of the Boeotian History, v. 458.

  Ctesiphon the Pancratiast, i. 42.

  Curatii and Horatii, v. 461.

  Cure of anger, i. 33-59.

  Curiosity, of, ii. 424-445;
    mischiefs of vain, iv. 236.

  Cuttle-fish, sign of a storm, iii. 505;
    wariness of the, v. 200.

  Cyanippus, a Syracusan, v. 462.

  Cyanippus, a Thessalian, v. 463.

  Cyclades islands, iii. 24.

  Cycloborus, a brook near Athens, v. 110.

  Cynaegirus, an Athenian commander, story of, v. 450.

  Cyprus, female parasites of, called Steps, ii. 103.

  Cyrus the Elder, his sayings, i. 186; ii. 319;
    enlarges the Persian empire, iv. 85.

  Cyrus the Younger, his sayings, i. 188.


  D.

  Daemon of Socrates, Discourse concerning the, ii. 378-423.

  Daemons, their nature, attributes, and actions, iv. 14 _et seq._;
    some of them are malignant and cruel, 19;
    they are mortal, 15, 23, 24;
    vainglorious, 28;
    have the care of oracles, 21, 27;
    sometimes have quarrels and combats with one another, 27;
    our souls are by nature endued with similar powers, 50 _et seq._;
    in the Moon, v. 289;
    will of the, 304;
    providence of the, 307, 308.

  Damindas, apothegm of, i. 407.

  Damis, apothegm of, i. 406.

  Damonidas, apothegm of, i. 406.

  Darius, his sayings, i. 186, 502; v. 458.

  Darkness, whether visible, iii. 169.

  Datis, a Persian commander, his invasion of Attica, v. 450.

  Daughters who had carnal knowledge of their fathers, v. 464.

  Death appertains to soul or body, iii. 189.

  Death a reward for distinguished piety; illustrated by the cases of
    Biton and Cleobis, of Agamedes and Trophonius, of Pindar and
    Euthynous, i. 313, 314.

  Death of fire is the generation of air, v. 316.

  Death the brother of sleep, i. 311.

  Debates at entertainments, iii. 394.

  Debt, Evils of. Against running in Debt, or Taking up Money upon
    Usury, v. 412-424.

  Debt of nature, i. 309.

  Decius of Rome, v. 462.

  Decrees proposed to the Athenians, v. 58.

  Deity, knowledge of a, whence derived, iii. 115.

  Delay of Providence in Punishing the Wicked. De sera Numinis
    Vindicta, iv. 140-188.

  Delight in hearing the passions of men represented, iii. 314.

  Delphi, a walk in, iii. 69;
    the statues there, 70;
    atmosphere of, 72;
    ancient oracles of, 73;
    Corinthian Hall at, 80-82;
    statue of Phryne, 83.

  Delphic Oracle, inscription on the, Know thyself, and Nothing too
    much, i. 328.

  Demades and Phocion, anecdotes of, ii. 298; v. 108, 141.

  Demaratus and Philip, anecdote of, ii. 146.

  Demaratus, apothegm of, i. 407, 482;
    his Second Book of Arcadian History, v. 461.

  Demetrius Phalereus, his saying, i. 217;
  anecdotes of, ii. 145; iii. 21; v. 145.

  Demetrius, his sayings, i. 204.

  Demetrius of Tarsus, comes to Delphi, iv. 3.

  Demochares, a nephew of Demosthenes, procures a statue to be set up
    for his uncle, v. 58-60;
    a decree for a statue for himself, 60, 61.

  Democracy and Oligarchy, v. 395-398.

  Democrates, saying of, v. 109.

  Democritus, saying of, i. 22, 263, 275; ii. 440; iii. 7;
    his philosophical opinions, 121, 123, 126, 127, 128, 129, 132, 133,
      135, 139, 140, 142, 145, 149, 155, 156, 157, 160, 162, 163, 164,
      166, 168, 169, 171, 176, 177, 179, 183, 187, 227;
    his opinions misrepresented, v. 341;
    his doctrine concerning atoms, 345, 346, 381.

  Demodocus, i. 105.

  Demonides, the cripple, ii. 51.

  Demosthenes, the orator, anecdotes of, i. 15, 65;
    quoted, 67, 286, 325;
    anecdote of, 334, 481;
    quoted, ii. 145, 300, 312, 313;
    anecdote of, 460;
    quoted, iv. 212;
    quoted, v. 34, 35;
    sketch of his life, 43-53;
    his birth, education, and early years, 43;
    calls his guardians to account, _ib._;
    is chosen choregus, 44;
    his methods to obtain excellence in speaking, _ib._;
    opposes the designs of Philip, 45;
    describes “action” as of supreme importance in oratory, _ib._;
    his early failures as an orator, _ib._;
    defends the Olynthians, 46;
    is admired by Philip, though an enemy, _ib._;
    his magnanimity, 47;
    his conduct at Chaeronea, _ib._;
    his patriotism, _ib._;
    the oration for the Crown, _ib._;
    accused of receiving a bribe, 48;
    his exile, _ib._;
    recalled, _ib._;
    returns to the administration of public affairs, 49;
    leaves Athens to avoid being delivered up to Antipater, _ib._;
    his death, 50;
    his family, _ib._;
    honors paid to his memory, 51;
    anecdotes of him, 49, 50-53;
    his great temperance, 53;
    his public services recounted in a decree, 58-60;
    quoted, 69, 109, 110, 124, 138, 146, 409, 411, 447, 448.

  Dercyllidas, apothegm of, i. 407.

  Dercyllus, his First Book of Foundations, v. 461;
    Third Book of Italian History, 474.

  Destiny, or fate, iii. 130.

  Deucalion [like Noah] sent forth a dove from the ark, and with like
  purpose, v. 179.

  Diagoras the Melian, iii. 118.

  Diana Orthia, rites of, i. 98.

  Dicaearchus, opinion concerning the soul, iii. 161;
    of divination, 176; v. 93.

  Dignity of places at table, iii. 210, 212.

  Dinarchus, an Athenian orator, v. 57, 58;
    becomes rich, 57;
    his exile in Chalcis, 58;
    restored, _ib._;
    his orations, _ib._

  Diocles, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41;
    his philosophical opinions, iii. 179, 182, 185, 192.

  Diogenes Laertius quoted, i. 77.

  Diogenes, quoted, i. 4, 12;
    anecdotes of, 51, 67, 141, 142, 166, 283, 285, 311, 487;
    quoted, ii. 58, 155, 193; 455, 458, 465, 466;
    story of the mouse, 453; iii. 21, 27, 29, 31;
    his philosophical opinions, 132, 136, 138, 143, 148, 163, 183, 187,
      189, 494; iv. 311; v. 8, 65.

  Diogenes and Philip, ii. 147.

  Diogenianus, iii. 71, 73, _et seq._

  Diomedes, ii. 41;
    liberated from captivity, v. 465.

  Dion, example of, i. 64, 193, 333.

  Dionysius, tyrant of Sicily, does not relish the Lacedaemonian
  broth, i. 83;
    his unreasonable anger, 152;
    his sayings, 449, 484, 491;
    his ungenerous behavior, 493;
    parasites of, ii. 166; 314;
    anecdote of, iv. 238.

  Dionysius and Plato, ii. 108, 140.

  Dionysius the Elder, his sayings, i. 191; v. 84.

  Dionysius the Younger, his sayings, i. 192, 501.

  Diophantus, saying of, i. 4.

  Diorphus, mount, v. 507.

  Discourse to an Unlearned Prince, iv. 323-330.

  Diseases of the body, iv. 504-508.

  Divination, of, iii. 176; iv. 59.

  Dog, habit of biting of stones, iii. 516;
    affection for his master, v. 180, 182, 184;
    docility of the, 191.

  Dolphin, sagacity of the, v. 200;
    nature of the, 204;
    story of a, 213;
    its love of music, 214;
    stories of affection of, 215, 216.

  Dolphin and Arion, ii. 33-36;
    and the lad of Jasus, v. 215.

  Domitian is mentioned [which fixes the era of Plutarch], ii. 443.

  Domitius, anecdote of, i. 288, 295; v. 125.

  Dorian Mood of music, i. 109, 115.

  Dorians pray for bad making of their hay, iii. 504.

  Dorotheus, his First Book of Transformations, v. 466;
    his Fourth Book of Italian History, v. 463.

  Dositheus, his Third Book of Sicilian History, v. 463, 471, 472, 474;
    Third Book of Lydian History, 469;
    his Pelopidae, 471;
    First Book of Italian History, 475.

  Dream, a romantic, ii. 407-411.

  Dreams and Omens, ii. 401, 402.

  Dreams in Autumn, iii. 432.

  Dreams, whence do they arise, iii. 176.

  Drink either five or three, iii. 282-284.

  Drink passeth through the lungs, iii. 363.


  E.

  Earth, its nature and magnitude, iii. 154;
    figure of the, 155;
    site and position of the, 155;
    inclination of the, 155;
    motion of the, 156;
    zones of the, 156;
    exhalations from the, iv. 53;
    its form and its place, v. 247;
    an instrument of time, 439.

  Earthquakes, of, iii. 157.

  Echo, what gives the, iii. 172.

  Eclipse of the moon, iii. 146.

  Eclipses of the sun, iii. 144.

  Ecphantus, his opinion concerning the motion of the earth, iii. 156.

  Egg or the bird, which was first, iii. 242-246.

  Egypt, its Religion and Philosophy; of Isis and Osiris, or of the
    Ancient Religion and Philosophy of Egypt, iv. 65-139.

  Egyptian skeleton at feasts, ii. 7.

  Egyptians in Ethiopia, iii. 20.

  Ει at Apollo’s temple at Delphi, iv. 479-498.

  Eleans, the, v. 426.

  Elements, mixture of the, iii. 126.

  Elephant, understanding of the, v. 178;
    stories of, 178;
    of King Porus, 183;
    most beloved by the Gods, 187;
    amour of the, 188;
    chirurgery of the, 192.

  Elephas, mount, v. 478.

  Elysian fields in the moon, v. 289.

  Elysius the Terinean, vision of, i. 314.

  Embryo, how nourished, iii. 183;
    is an animal, _ib._

  Empedocles, i. 59;
    saying of, 158, 469;
    quoted, ii. 49, 195; 357;
    quoted, iii. 34, 81;
    his philosophical opinions, 112, 114, 125-129, 131, 132, 136-138,
      143, 145, 147, 154, 158, 163, 165, 168-170, 173, 178-184, 188-191;
    quoted, 209, 262, 293, 333, 497, 509, 518;
    quoted, iv. 21, 52, 85, 87, 108, 273;
    quoted, v. 169, 239, 246, 249, 252, 255, 318, 348, 350, 351;
    misunderstood by Colotes, 351;
    quoted, 381, 420, 421, 439.

  Emprepes, apothegm of, i. 408.

  Enemies, how a man may profit by his, i. 280-298.

  Entertainment, late to an, iii. 417.

  Envy and Hatred, ii. 95-99.

  Epaminondas, his sayings, i. 222-226, 277;
    his great actions, 225;
    his consistency of character, ii. 109; 182, 185, 309, 313, 319,
      381, 396, 399, 414; iii. 6; v. 72, 75, 95, 101, 121, 125;
    his invasion of Laconia, 401, 407, 458.

  Epaminondas, son of, beheaded, v. 458.

  Ephorus, his opinion concerning the overflowing of the Nile, iii. 161.

  Epicharmus, quoted, i. 315, 496; ii. 141; iv. 242.

  Epicureans, misrepresentations of the, v. 352-354.

  Epicurus, quoted, i. 138, 139, 159;
    famous sentence of, ii. 92;
    his doctrine; refutation of it; pleasure is not attainable, 157-203;
    reverence of his brothers, iii. 57;
    his philosophical opinions, 111, 122, 124, 127, 128, 131, 134, 135,
      139, 142, 143, 151, 163, 164, 165, 169, 177, 183;
    opinions of, v. 350, 374;
    danger of his doctrines, 377, 378;
    disciples of, 383, 385.

  Epigenes, opinion concerning comets, iii. 150.

  Epimenides, long sleep of, v. 66; 279.

  Erasistratus, his opinion of the soul, iii. 163;
    of superfetation, 180;
    his definition of a fever, 192.

  Eratosthenes, his philosophical opinions: of time, iii. 128;
    of the sun, 147; v. 456.

  Erectheus, sacrifice of his daughter, v. 463.

  Eryxo of Cyrene, i. 378.

  Esop, fable of, ii. 11, 12, 16, 19-22, 23;
    dog of, 25;
    at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, 3-41; iii. 63, 202.

  Eteocles the Theban, i. 257.

  Euboea, king of, drawn in pieces by horses, v. 455.

  Euboidas, apothegm of, i. 408.

  Euclid, anecdote of, i. 55; ii. 173.

  Euclides, his brotherly love, iii. 61.

  Euctus and Eulaeus, ii. 146.

  Eudaemonidas, his sayings, i. 221.

  Eudamidas, apothegm of, i. 408.

  Eudemus, of matter, ii. 334.

  Eudorus, system of numbers, ii. 343, 345.

  Eudoxus, anecdotes of, ii. 174;
    his opinion of the cause of winter and summer, iii. 141;
    of the overflow of the Nile, 161.

  Euemerus, his opinion of God, iii. 118.

  Eumenes of Pergamus, his sayings, i. 206;
    anecdotes of, iii. 61, iv. 232.

  Eumetis at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41;
    her riddle, 20.

  Euphorion quoted, iii. 321.

  Euphranor, the painter, v. 400.

  Euphrates, the river, v. 502.

  Eupolis, saying of, ii. 112.

  Euripides, quoted, i. 3, 158, 291, 300, 301, 302, 308, 320, 329, 330,
      335, 458;
    Hippol., 4, 14, 471;
    Protesilaus, 23;
    Dictys, 26, 58;
    Bellerophon, 63, 141;
    Frag., 287, 472;
    Pirithous, 70;
    Orestes, 37, 137, 140, 165, 170, 286;
    Medea, 64, 71, 255;
    Iph. Aul., 152, 302;
    Bacchae, 163;
    Troad, 170;
    Phoeniss, 257, 303, 327;
    Danae, 307;
    Adrastus, 288;
    Stheneboea, 301;
    Ino, 303, 304;
    Alcestis, 310;
    Suppliants, 316;
    Cresphontes, 316;
    Erectheus, 500;
    Hypsipyle, 317, 465; ii. 54, 56, 62, 87, 92, 121, 148, 150, 251,
      300, 306, 357, 363, 391, 472;
    Cresphontes, 93;
    Hippol., 73, 108, 173, 198, 373, 374;
    Frag., 86, 181, 318, 437, 501;
    Orestes, 143, 443;
    Medea, 66;
    Iph. Aul., 49, 85;
    Phoeniss, 51, 61, 66, 130, 151;
    Ion, 102, 144;
    Ino, 131;
    Erectheus, 132;
    Electra, 85;
    Aeolus, 66, 85, 88, 175;
    Herc. Furens, 151;
    Hecuba, 197;
    Iph. Taur., 447; iii. 27, 99, 116, 194;
    Frag., 3, 19, 33, 41, 42, 94,
    230, 458, 475, 512;
    Hippol., 483;
    Orestes, 168, 437;
    Phoeniss, 16, 32, 43, 49, 257;
    Stheneboea, 217;
    Iph. Taur., 21;
    Androm., 232;
    Hipsipyle, 291, iv. 17, 128, 142, 270, 308, 450, 478, 497;
    Frag., 47, 220, 233, 251, 272, 273, 292, 301, 325, 392, 461, 475;
    Bacchae, 223, 272, 422, 506;
    Hippol., 294, 298;
    Cyclops, 56;
    Aeolus, 105;
    Troad, 132;
    Orestes, 141, 507;
    Ino, 158, 231;
    Alcestis, 197;
    Danae, 274, 283;
    Stheneboea, 288;
    Androm., 401;
    Herc. Furens, 459, 467; v. 126, 128, 157, 172;
    Frag., 15, 79, 105, 108, 118, 345;
    Aeolus, 71;
    Hippol., 158;
    Iph. Taur., 374;
    Orestes, 77, 380;
    Troad, 440;
    Erectheus, 463;
    Meleager, 466.

  Eurotas, a river in Laconia, v. 497.

  Eurycratidas, apothegm of, i. 410.

  Eurydice of Hierapolis, her epigram, i. 32.

  Euthrymenes, his opinion of the overflow of the Nile, iii. 160.

  Euthynous and Pindar, i. 313.

  Eutropion, anecdote of, i. 25.

  Evenus quoted, ii. 102, 192.

  Evenus, son of Mars, v. 475.

  Exercises, different kinds of, iii. 248-250.

  Exile, consolations of, iii. 15-35.

  Eyes, images of the, iii. 169.


  F.

  Fabius Maximus, his sayings, i. 227, 228;
    in the Punic war, v. 453.

  Fable of Minerva, i. 41.

  Fable of the defeat of Neptune, iii. 444.

  Fable of the Fox and Leopard, ii. 21.

  Fable of the Lydian Mule, ii. 11.

  Fabricianus, v. 474.

  Fabricius, iv. 201.

  Face appearing in the moon, v. 234-292.

  Fasting creates more thirst than hunger, iii. 339.

  Fate, or destiny, iii. 130;
    nature of, 130; v. 293-308.

  Faunus, king of Italy, strangers murdered by, v. 474.

  Fever, cause of a, iii. 192.

  Fig-trees, of, iii. 250, 335.

  Figures, of, iii. 125.

  Filial treachery in Persian and Roman history, v. 458.

  Fire or water, which is more useful, v. 331-337.

  Firmus and Nuceria, v. 471.

  Fish called the fisherman, v. 201.

  Fish, eating of, iii. 422.

  Fisherman’s nets, rotting of, iii. 503.

  Fishes, of; the labrax, mullet, scate, anthias, dolphin, cuttle-fish,
    star-fish, torpedo, the fisherman, tunny, amiae, pionetras,
    sponge, porphyrae, hegemon, whale, pinoterus, gilthead,
    phycides, galeus, tortoise, v. 195, 209.

  Fittest time for a man to know his wife, iii. 274-279.

  Fives, we reckon by, iv. 43-47.

  Five tragical histories of Love, iv. 312-322.

  Flattery: How to know a Flatterer from a Friend, ii. 100-156.

  Flattery fatal to whole kingdoms, ii. 118.

  Flesh exposed to the moon, iii. 284-287.

  Flute girls, whether they are to be admitted to a feast, iii. 387.

  Folly of Seeking Many Friends, i. 464-474.

  Food, digesting of, iii. 289-295.

  Fortune, of, ii. 475-481; iii. 131;
    is a cause by accident, v. 302;
    not the same as chance, 303;
    relates to men only, 303.

  Fortune of the Romans, iv. 198-219.

  Fox, cunning of the, v. 179.

  Fresh water washes clothes better than salt, iii. 224-226.

  Friends, folly of seeking many, i. 464-474.

  Frogs, croaking of, v. 210.

  Frost makes hunting difficult, iii. 510.

  Fruit, salt not found in, iii. 498.

  Fulvius and Augustus, anecdotes of, iv. 235, 236.

  Fulvius Stellus, v. 468.

  Fundanus, i. 34, 35.


  G.

  Galaxy, or milky way, iii. 148.

  Galeus, affection of, for their young, v. 209.

  Ganges, the river, v. 481.

  Garlands at sacred games, iii. 411.

  Garrulity, or Talkativeness, iv. 220-253.

  Gauran, mount, v. 508.

  Gelo, his saying, i. 190.

  Generation and corruption, iii. 128.

  Generation of males and females, iii. 178;
    of animals, 186;
    of the Gods, 400.

  Generative seed, iii. 177.

  Geniuses and heroes, opinions concerning, iii. 122.

  Germanicus, ii. 96.

  Gnatho the Sicilian, iii. 3.

  Gobryas, a Persian noble, ii. 104.

  God always plays the Geometer, saying attributed to Plato, iii. 402.

  God bade Socrates act the midwife’s part, v. 425.

  God, Father and Maker of all things, v. 428.

  God, what is, iii. 118.

  Gods, generation of the, iii. 400.

  Gorgias, i. 340;
  at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41; 44, 134; ii. 502;
  v. 405.

  Government. Of the Three Sorts of Government, Monarchy, Democracy,
    and Oligarchy, v. 395-398.

  Gracchus, Caius, example of, i. 40.

  Greek music, principles of, i. 102, 103.

  Greek Questions, ii. 265-293.

  Groom, saying of the king’s, i. 21.

  Gryllus, v. 218 _et seq._

  Guests, should the entertainer seat the, iii. 203-210;
    to a wedding supper, 300;
    that are called shadows, iii. 381.

  Gylippus, his dishonesty, i. 23.


  H.

  Habits of animals, v. 173-177.

  Halcyon, of the, v. 211.

  Halo, of the, iii. 160.

  Hannibal and Fabius, i. 228.

  Hares, cunning of the, v. 185.

  Harp, an invention of Apollo, i. 113.

  Hart, tears of the, iii. 507.

  Health, preservation of, i. 251-279.

  Health, sickness, and old age, iii. 192.

  Hearing, of, i. 441-463; iii. 170.

  Heaven, its nature and essence, iii. 137;
    division of, 137.

  Hebrus, a river of Thrace, v. 480.

  Hedgehog, ingenuity of the, v. 186.

  Hedgehog of the sea, v. 203.

  Hegemon, of the fish, v. 206.

  Hegesippus, sayings of, &c., i. 213.

  Hegesistratus, an Ephesian, v. 476.

  Helicon the mathematician, i. 57.

  Hephaestion, the friend of Alexander, i. 489, 505.

  Heracleo, v. 194.

  Heraclides, his compendium of music, i. 105; ii. 158;
    his philosophical opinions, iii. 139, 149, 156, 159, 165.

  Heraclides the wrestler, iii. 220.

  Heraclitus, i. 44, 79, 276, 308, 448, 453; ii. 74, 165, 330, 358,
      477; iii. 26, 74;
    his philosophical opinions, 111, 125, 128, 130, 131, 143, 144,
      145, 146, 162;
    apothegm, v. 9;
    quoted, 73, 169, 425.

  Hercules and Iole, v. 459.

  Hercules in Antisthenes, precept of, i. 77.

  Hercules,
    ridiculous representation of, v. 70;
    and King Faunus, 474.

  Hercules the woman-hater, his temple in Phocis, iii. 90;
    singular anecdote, _ib._

  Hermes, iv. 74.

  Hermias, v. 121.

  Hermogenes, ii. 194.

  Herodotus, quoted, i. 80, 441;
    saying of, ii. 202, 489;
    Arcadian prophet, iii. 38;
    quoted, iv. 248, 335 _et seq._;
    malice of, iv. 331-371; v. 397.

  Herondas, apothegm of, i. 410.

  Herons, artifices of the, v. 176.

  Herophilus, opinion of, iii. 128, 163.

  Hesianax, his Third Book of African History, v. 465.

  Hesiod, quoted, Works and Days, i. 22, 65, 70, 138, 156, 178,
      261, 296, 307, 325;
    Works and Days, ii. 24;
    spare diet recommended by, 27;
    and the dolphin, 36, 37;
    Works and Days, 63, 64, 65, 73, 87, 92, 302, 303, 449, 452,
      480, 483;
    Theogony, 102;
    Works and Days, iii. 64, 210, 382, 416, 436, 438;
    Theogony, 118, 324, 458; iv. 15;
    Works and Days, 48, 49, 68, 87, 154, 173, 264, 385, 442, 457;
    Theogony, 53;
    Works and Days, v. 153, 168, 172, 279.

  Hicetes, his opinion of the earth, iii. 154.

  Hiero, his sayings, i. 190;
    anecdote of, 291.

  Hiero the Spartan, statue of, iii. 76.

  Hiero the Tyrant, statue of, iii. 75.

  Hieronymus, saying of, i. 38, 50, 462.

  Himerius, an Athenian parasite, ii. 126.

  Hippasus, opinions of, iii. 111.

  Hippocrates, saying of, i. 40;
    quoted, 261, 292; ii. 165, 185;
    his magnanimity, ii. 466.

  Hippocratidas, apothegm of, i. 412.

  Hippodamus, apothegm of, i. 411.

  Hippolytus, son of Theseus, v. 471, 472.

  Hippomachus, ii. 294.

  Hipponax, i. 108.

  History of music, i. 104 _et seq._

  History of wind instruments, i. 108.

  Homer, passages in, criticised, ii. 69-72, 74-84, 89, 90.

  Homer quoted: Iliad, i. 34, 38, 39, 51, 52, 55, 62, 104, 132, 133,
      134, 138, 141, 151, 153, 154, 156, 161, 165, 178, 180, 181, 200,
      236, 251, 292, 303, 305, 306, 310, 324, 325, 329, 330, 331, 385,
      466, 469, 475, 486, 490, 507, 508, 510, 511; ii. 25, 32, 41, 44,
      47, 48, 49, 52, 53, 55, 56, 59, 62, 63, 65, 67, 68, 74, 75, 77,
      79, 81, 82, 84, 88, 89, 90, 91, 108, 114, 115, 120, 123, 131, 140,
      142, 145, 150, 151, 152, 154, 185, 197, 198, 200, 237, 295, 305,
      310, 311, 314, 317, 319, 413, 501, 505; iii. 25, 26, 47, 53, 54,
      107, 120, 152, 206, 207, 221, 231, 248, 255, 285, 301, 313, 317,
      321, 323, 325, 336, 354, 364, 381, 394, 401, 413, 418, 437, 442,
      447, 448, 449, 450, 480, 486, 492, 493, 515; iv. 16, 65, 108, 111,
      152, 191, 194, 195, 216, 237, 238, 280, 285, 291, 327, 329, 383,
      386, 401, 405, 434, 462, 483, 490, 499, 504; v. 78, 79, 85, 88,
      90, 92, 96, 104, 119, 122, 123, 134, 135, 138, 146, 147, 171, 182,
      200, 208, 214, 266, 276, 281, 315, 339, 350, 371, 386, 394, 400,
      418, 443, 444, 447;

    Odyss. i. 52, 134, 138, 154, 236, 252, 305, 310, 318, 325, 452, 469;
      ii. 41, 43, 47, 48, 52, 53, 54, 56, 59, 63, 65, 67, 70, 71, 82,
      83, 108, 110, 114, 115, 127, 149, 158, 159, 162, 184, 195, 304,
      316, 317, 320, 371, 427, 463, 467, 478; iii. 10, 42, 45, 72, 81,
      101, 196, 201, 207, 226, 232, 233, 249, 259, 280, 333, 359, 365,
      395, 419, 425, 437, 438, 451, 466, 477, 499; iv. 5, 30, 86, 97,
      191, 200, 219, 224, 226, 230, 231, 289, 307, 325, 401, 405; v. 3,
      11, 105, 106, 143, 171, 184, 281, 285, 290, 315, 323, 403, 416,
      422, 423, 446.

  Horatii and Curatii, v. 460, 461.

  Horatius Cocles, v. 456.

  Horsehair for fishing lines, iii. 505.

  Horses, called λυχοσπάδες, iii. 253.

  Horus, son of Osiris, iv. 80, 114 _et seq._

  Hounds that hunt hares, v. 184.

  How a man may praise himself without being envied, ii. 306.

  How a man may receive advantage and profit from his enemies, i.
      280-298.

  How animals are begotten, iii. 186.

  How a young man ought to hear poems, ii. 42.

  How plants grow, and whether they are animals, iii. 190.

  How to know a flatterer, ii. 100-156.

  Hunger, cause of, iii. 341;
    allayed by drinking, 345.

  Hurricanes, of, iii. 150.

  Hyagnis, first that sung to the pipe, i. 107.

  Hydaspes, a river in India, v. 477.

  Hyperides, the Athenian orator, ii. 140; v. 53-57;
    his part in public affairs, 53;
    his friendship for Demosthenes, 54;
    this friendship broken, _ib._;
    demanded by Antipater, he escapes to Aegina, _ib._;
    is apprehended, tortured, and put to death, 55;
    an excellent orator, _ib._;
    his amorous propensities, 55, 56;
    his patriotism, 56;
    sent as ambassador, 56, 57.

  Hypsipyle, foster-child of, i, 465.


  I.

  Ibis, habits of, imitated by the Egyptians, v. 192.

  Ibycus, the poet, iv. 240.

  Ichneumon, of the, v. 174.

  Ida, mount, v. 493.

  Idathyrsus, his sayings, i. 189.

  Ideas, of, iii. 123.

  Images presented to our eyes in mirrors, iii. 169.

  Imagination, imaginable and phantom, difference between, iii. 167.

  Immortality of the soul, argument for it, iv. 169, 170.

  Impotency in men, iii. 181.

  Improbabilities of the Stoics, iii. 194-196.

  Inachus, a river in Argolis, v. 498.

  Incest, case of, v. 467.

  Indus, the river, v. 508.

  Infants, seven months’, iii. 184.

  Inquisitiveness, or vain curiosity; of curiosity, or an over-busy
      inquisitiveness into things impertinent, ii. 424-445.

  Iole, the beloved of Hercules, v. 459.

  Ion the tragedian, i. 322, 328; v. 186, 254.

  Iphicrates, his saying, i. 80, 212; v. 105.

  Iphigenia at Aulis, v. 459, 460.

  Irascible faculty, v. 441.

  Isaeus, an Athenian orator, v. 33;
    considered by some equal to Lysias, _ib._;
    the teacher of Demosthenes, _ib._;
    number of his orations, _ib._

  Isis and Osiris, iv. 66-139.

  Ismenodora, iv. 256, 264, 269, 311.

  Ismenus, a river of Boeotia, v. 478.

  Isocrates, an Athenian orator, iii. 198; v. 27-33;
    his parentage, birth, and education, 27;
    composed orations for others, 28;
    his school at Chios, _ib._;
    his great success as a teacher of rhetoric, _ib._;
    lived to a great age, 29;
    his death and burial, 30;
    number of his orations, 31;
    his timidity, 27, 31;
    his description of the use of rhetoric, 31;
    the two suits against him, 32, 409;
    his Panegyric, 410.

  Isthmian games, iii. 318.

  Ivy, nature of, iii. 265-268.


  J.

  Jason, saying of, v. 140.

  Jewish religion, statements and conjectures respecting it,
      iii. 307-312.

  Jews, their fatal inaction in war because it was their Sabbath day,
      i. 178.

  Juba, his third Book of Lybian History, v. 465.


  L.

  Lacedaemonians, their laws and customs, i. 82-101;
    their currency, 99;
    influx of gold and silver, 100;
    refuse to assist Philip and Alexander in their designs against
      Persia, 101;
    lose all their ancient glory, 101;
    combat with the Argives, v. 452.

  Lachares, tyranny of, ii. 166.

  Laconic answers, iv. 243.

  Laconic Apothegms, of, i. 385-440.
    Acrotatus, 400.
    Agasicles, 385.
    Agesilaus, 385-397.
    Agesipolis, 397, 398.
    Agis, son of Archidamus, 398.
    Agis the Last, 400.
    Agis the Younger, 400.
    Alcamenes, the son of Teleclus, 400.
    Alexandridas, 401.
    Anaxander, 401.
    Anaxilas, 402.
    Androclidas, 402.
    Antalcidas, 402.
    Antiochus, 403.
    Archidamidas, 403.
    Archidamus, son of Agesilaus, 404.
    Archidamus, son of Zeuxidamus, 404.
    Aregeus, 403.
    Ariston, 403.
    Astycratidas, 405.
    Bias, 406.
    Callicratidas, 412.
    Charillus, 432.
    Cleombrotus, 413.
    Cleomenes, son of Cleombrotus, 413, 416.
    Damindas, 407.
    Damis, 406.
    Damonidas, 406.
    Demaratus, 407.
    Dercyllidas, 407.
    Emprepes, 408.
    Euboidas, 408.
    Eudamidas, son of Archidamas, 408.
    Eurycratidas, 410.
    Herondas, 410.
    Hippocratidas, 412.
    Hippodamus, 411.
    Leonidas, the son of Anaxandrias, 417.
    Leo, the son of Eucratidas, 417.
    Leotychides, 416.
    Lycurgus the Lawgiver, 419-425.
    Lysander, 425.
    Namertes, 427.
    Nicander, 427.
    Paedaretus, 429.
    Panthoidas, 427.
    Pausanias, son of Cleombrotus, 428.
    Pausanias, son of Plistoanax, 428.
    Phoebidas, 431.
    Plistoanax, 430.
    Polycratidas, 431.
    Polydorus, 430.
    Soos, 431.
    Telecrus, 431.
    Thectamenes, 411.
    Themisteas, 410.
    Theopompus, 410.
    Thorycion, 411.
    Zeuxidamus, 410.

  Lacydes, King of the Argives, i. 290.

  Lais, murder of, iv. 302.

  Lampis, a sea commander, v. 73.

  Lampsace, anecdote of, i. 366.

  Lamps and tables of the ancients, iii. 372.

  Land, food of the, iii. 302-306.

  Lasus, his innovation upon ancient music, i. 123.

  Leaena, anecdote of, iv. 229, 230.

  Least things in nature, iii. 125.

  Leo, apothegm of, i. 417.

  Leo Byzantinus, saying of, i. 288;
    and his wife, v. 110.

  Leonidas, apothegm of, i. 417;
    vindicated from the statements of Herodotus, iv. 354; v. 157;
    at Thermopylae, 453.

  Leotychides, apothegm of, i. 422.

  Leprosy caused by dewy trees, iii. 500.

  Leptis, custom in, ii. 499.

  Leucippus, his opinions of the world, iii. 135;
    of the earth, 155;
    of the senses, 165.

  Light and darkness, of, v. 325.

  Lightning, of, iii. 150.

  Light, of reflected, iii. 168, 169; v. 236 _et seq._

  Lilaeus, mount, v. 508, 509.

  Linus, elegies of, i. 105.

  Lions, of, v. 187.

  Liquids, of, iii. 359.

  Live concealed, whether’t were rightly said, iii. 3-10.

  Lives of the ten Attic orators, v. 17-63.

  Love: Five tragical histories of, iv. 312-322.

  Love, of, iv. 254-311;
    makes a man a poet, iii. 217-219.

  Love of wealth, ii. 294-305.

  Lucretia, the Roman matron, i. 355.

  Lucullus, apothegm of, i. 241;
    quoted, iii. 51; v. 84.

  Lugdunum, mount, v. 485.

  Lyaeus and choraeus, i. 54.

  Lybian crows, v. 175.

  Lycastus and Parasius, v. 473.

  Lycian women, virtue of the, i. 351.

  Lycormas, a river in Aetolia, v. 487.

  Lycurgus, an Athenian orator, v. 36-42;
    treasurer of the commonwealth, 36;
    his great public services, 37;
    his fidelity in office and great reputation, 37;
    his justice and integrity, 37, 38;
    useful laws procured by his influence, 38;
    his diligence in the study and practice of oratory, 39;
    his incorruptible honesty, 40;
    his death, _ib._;
    honors paid to his memory, _ib._;
    his family, 40, 41;
    his orations and success as an orator, 41;
    his benevolence, 42;
    a decree for honors to be paid to his memory, 61-63.

  Lycurgus, the Spartan lawgiver, anecdote of, i. 7;
    his institutions, 82 _et seq._;
    their final overthrow, 101, 217, 419-425;
    his sayings, ii. 22; v. 12, 92.

  Lydian mood of music, i. 109, 114.

  Lyric nomes, i. 106.

  Lysander, i. 72;
    his great victory over the Athenians, 99;
    introduces gold and silver into Lacedaemon, 100;
    the results, _ib._;
    his sayings, 219, 425;
    saying of, ii. 149;
    anecdote of, 495; iii. 100; v. 92.

  Lysias, the Athenian orator, his remarks on music, i. 104;
    anecdote of, iv. 226; v. 24-26;
    his birth, early residence in Athens, residence in Thurii, and
    return to Athens, 24;
    banished by the Thirty Tyrants, 25;
    return after their overthrow, _ib._;
    death, _ib._;
    number of his orations, _ib._;
    his other works, 26;
    his eloquence, _ib._; v. 33.

  Lysimache, the priestess, i. 73.

  Lysimachus, his sayings, i. 205, 259.

  Lysippus, his statue of Alexander, i. 494.


  M.

  Madness of animals, v. 167.

  Maeander, a river in Asia, v. 488.

  Magas, anecdote of, i. 45.

  Magpie, story of a, v. 189.

  Maimactes, king of the gods, i. 45.

  Man, perfection of a, iii. 189;
    most unhappy of all creatures, iv. 504;
    compounded of three parts, v. 286.

  Maneros, the foster-son of Isis, iv. 79.

  Manius Curius, apothegm of, i. 226.

  Manlius, son of, beheaded, v. 458.

  Man’s progress in virtue, ii. 446-474.

  Mantinea, battle of, v. 401.

  Marius, sacrifice of his daughter, v. 463.

  Mars, some bad actions of his, v. 466, 467.

  Marsyas, a river in Phrygia, v. 490.

  Marsyas, the musician, i. 41, 108.

  Massinissa, his vigorous old age, v. 83.

  Mathematics, applied to Music, i. 118-121;
    affords unspeakable delight, ii. 172, 174.

  Matter, of, iii. 122.

  Medius, the parasite, ii. 137.

  Megasthenes, saying of, v. 275.

  Megisto and Micca, and other women of Elis, i. 357-363.

  Meilichius, king of the gods, i. 45.

  Melanippides, quoted, iv. 278.

  Melanthius, quoted, i. 35, 449; ii. 103; iv. 147.

  Melian women, virtue of the, i. 348.

  Melisponda and Nephalia, i. 59.

  Melissus, his opinion of generation, iii, 128.

  Memnon, his saying, i. 189.

  Menalippides, i. 114, 123.

  Menander, quoted, i. 70, 139, 158, 161, 164, 335, 470;
    quoted, ii. 52, 57, 65, 86, 87, 124, 192, 297;
    his superiority to Aristophanes, iii. 11-14;
    quoted, 38, 65, 196, 488; iv. 290;
    anecdote of, v. 403;
    saying of, 425.

  Mendesian goat, v. 225.

  Menedemus, i. 77; ii. 115, 464;
   his opinion of the nature of moral virtue, iii. 461.

  Menelaus, the mathematician, v. 257.

  Men, impotency in, iii. 181;
    elements of, 188;
    have better stomachs in autumn, 240;
    temper of, 270-272;
    when asleep are never thunderstruck, 295-300;
    having carnal knowledge of brutes, 468.

  Menon, his definition of virtue, i. 464.

  Menyllus, his First Book of Boeotic History, v. 460;
   Third Book of Italian History, 467.

  Messenians, saying among the, v. 416.

  Metellus, quoted, iii. 53; iv. 202; v. 459, 461.

  Meteors, of, which resemble rods, iii. 153.

  Metiochus, his misuse of power, v. 127.

  Metius Fufetius, king of Alba, torn in pieces, v. 455.

  Metrocles, i. 144.

  Metrodorus, ii. 158, 160, 161, 167, 169, 175, 180, 183, 496;
    his philosophical opinions, iii. 115, 127, 132, 149, 150, 151, 153,
      154, 155, 157, 158; v. 378, 383, 384.

  Micca and Megisto, and other women of Elis, i. 357-363.

  Midas, i. 326; v. 454.

  Miletus, maidens of, i. 354.

  Mills of the gods grind slowly, but they grind fine, iv. 143.

  Miltiades, v. 407-411.

  Mimnermus, quoted, iii. 475.

  Mind, tranquillity of the, i. 136-167.

  Minerva, admonished by a satyr, i. 41; iii. 195;
  temple of, v. 461.

  Mirrors, causes and reasons of, iii. 169; v. 236 _et seq._

  Mithridates, i. 204; ii. 121;
  story of, iii. 219.

  Mixture of the elements, iii. 126.

  Mnemosyne, the mother of the Muses, i. 22.

  Mnesarete, statue of, iii. 83.

  Mnesiphilus, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

  Mnesitheus, the physician, iii. 511.

  Monarchy, Democracy, and Oligarchy, v. 395-398.

  Money upon usury, v. 412-424.

  Monstrous births, of, iii. 179.

  Moon: essence of the, iii. 145;
    magnitude of the, 145;
    figure of the, 145;
    whence her light, 145;
    eclipses of the, 146;
    phases of the, 147;
    distance from the sun, 147;
    of the face appearing within the orb of the moon, v. 234-292;
    its distance from the earth, 246;
    its nature, 253-260;
    its size, 261;
    why called Glaucopis, 267;
    is it inhabited, 274, 275.

  Moot point in Homer’s Iliad, iii. 446.

  Moral virtue, essay on, iii. 461-494.

  Moschio, dialogue on health, i. 251, 252.

  Motherland a Cretan expression, v. 85.

  Motion, of, iii. 128.

  Mount Athos’ shade, v. 270.

  Mule and the salt, v. 184.

  Mule, superannuated, v. 182.

  Mules, barrenness of, iii. 182.

  Mullet, of the, v. 213.

  Muses, number of the, iii. 450.

  Mushrooms produced by thunder, iii. 295-300.

  Music, treatise concerning, i. 102-135;
    pleasures from bad, iii. 376;
    for entertainments, 389.

  Musonius, his rule of health, i. 35.

  Must, sweet, iii. 511.

  Mycenae, mount, v. 501.


  N.

  Namertes, apothegm of, i. 427.

  Names of rivers and mountains, and of such things as are to be found
    therein, and the fables connected therewith, v. 477-509.

  Nasica, his saying, i. 285.

  Natural affection towards one’s offspring, iv. 189-197.

  Natural philosophy, iii. 105.

  Natural Questions, Plutarch’s, iii. 495-518.

  Nature, of, iii. 131;
    what is, 105;
    things that are least in, 125;
    animated, v. 160.

  Necessity, of, iii. 129;
    nature of, 129;
    defined, v. 299.

  Nephalia and Melisponda, i. 59.

  Neptune, ii. 38, 39, 41.

  Nero, i. 53; iv. 228, 229;
    anecdote of, v. 123.

  New diseases and how caused, iii. 426.

  New-married couple, advice to, ii. 486-507.

  New wine, of, iii. 279.

  Nicander, apothegm of, i. 427, 441.

  Nicias Maleotes, quoted, v. 459.

  Nicias, the Athenian general, superstition of, i. 177; v. 107.

  Nicias, the painter, anecdote of, ii. 173; v. 71.

  Nicostratus and Archidamus, i. 74;
    apothegm of, 221.

  Niger, anecdote of, i. 267.

  Nightingale, of the, v. 189.

  Nile, the river, v. 495;
    overflow of the, iii. 160;
    water of the, 415.

  Niloxenus, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41.

  Niobe, i. 328.

  Noises in the night and day, iii. 406.

  Numa, of the reign of, iv. 208-210.


  O.

  Oenopides, his discovery of the obliquity of the Zodiac, iii. 138.

  Ogygia, an island west from Britain and its neighbor islands,
   described, v. 281-283.

  Oil, top of the, iii. 370;
    on the sea, 503;
    is transparent, v. 318;
    does not easily freeze, 319.

  Old age, health, and sickness, iii. 192.

  Old men, love pure wine, iii. 221;
    read best at a distance, 222-224;
    easily foxed, 268-270;
    in state affairs, v. 64-96.

  Oligarchy, Monarchy, and Democracy, v. 395-398.

  Olympias, anecdotes of, ii. 494, 495.

  Olympus, a Phrygian player, i. 107, 108, 110, 112, 115, 116, 123.

  Omens and dreams, ii. 401, 402.

  Onesicrates, banquet of, i. 103, 133.

  Onomademus, wisdom of, i. 295; v. 129.

  Opinions of philosophers, iii. 104-193.

  Optatus, v. 171.

  Oracle in Cilicia, iv. 55.

  Oracles of Delphi, iii. 73.

  Oracles, why they cease to give answers, iv. 3-64.

  Orestes slays his mother, v. 474.

  Origin of things, opinions concerning the, iii. 107-113.

  Orontes, his saying, i. 188.

  Orpheus never imitated any one, i. 107.

  Orphic Fragments, iv. 59, 404.

  Oryx, fables of the, v. 193.

  Osiris, iv. 75-135;
    story about his birth, 74;
    great actions of, 75;
    his death, 76;
    his body torn in pieces by Typhon, 80;
    is identical with Serapis and Bacchus, 89;
    with the bull Apis, 90;
    sacred vestments of, 135.

  Othryadas, iv. 338.

  Otus, the bird, v. 163.

  Oxen, teaching of, v. 193.


  P.

  Paeans, makers of, i. 110.

  Paedaretus, apothegm of, i. 429.

  Painter, neat saying of a, ii. 378.

  Painting is silent poetry, v. 402.

  Palladium in Ilium and in Rome, v. 461.

  Palm tree, of the, iii. 514.

  Panaetius, sayings of, i. 57.

  Pancrates, i. 117.

  Pandora’s box, i. 306.

  Pangaeus, mount, v. 480.

  Panthoidas, apothegm of, i. 427.

  Papirius Tolucer, v. 468.

  Parallels, or a comparison between the actions of Greeks and Romans,
  v. 450-476.

  Parmenides, v. 357;
    his philosophical opinions: of generation and corruption, iii. 128;
    of necessity, 129;
    of the world, 135;
    of the moon, 145;
    of the galaxy, 149;
    of the earth, 155;
    of earthquakes, 157;
    of the soul, 163;
    defended from the misrepresentations of the Epicureans, v. 352-354;
    quoted, 357, 359, 381.

  Partridge, cunning of the, v. 185.

  Parysatis, her saying, i. 188.

  Passions of the body, iii. 175.

  Passions of the soul, or diseases of the body: which are worse, iv.
      504, 508.

  Paulus Aemilius, apothegm of, i. 232.

  Pausanias, the Spartan traitor, v. 457.

  Pausanius, i. 305;
    apothegm of, 428.

  Pauson the painter, iii. 73.

  Pederasty, or the love of boys, iv. 259;
    defended, 259, 260;
    instances of its power, 284-286;
    severely condemned, 304;
    the connection is uncertain and short-lived, 307;
    it ceases on the sprouting of the beard, 307.

  Pelopidas, his saying, i. 225.

  Pelops and his two sons, v. 470, 471.

  Pemptides, iv. 272, 275, 279.

  Pergamus, woman of, i. 374.

  Periander, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41;
    tyrant of Corinth sends three hundred boys to be castrated, iv. 341;
    the crime prevented, 342.

  Pericles, anecdotes of, i. 15, 18, 66, 211, 332; ii. 309, 315; v. 67,
      102;
    his absolute sway over the Athenians, 106;
    his soliloquy when about to address the people, 130, 131, 410, 413.

  Periclitus, a Lesbian harper, i. 108.

  Persaeus, anecdote of, i. 70.

  Perseus, king of Macedonia, his sorrow on losing his kingdom, i. 160.

  Persian Magi, killers of mice, ii. 96.

  Persian women, virtue of the, i. 347.

  Persians had a monarchy, v. 397.

  Pestilence, relief from, a virgin sacrificed for, v. 472.

  Petron, doctrine of, iv. 30.

  Phaedimus, v. 171, 194.

  Phaeton, i. 141.

  Phalaris, brazen cow of, v. 474.

  Pharnaces, of the moon, v. 265.

  Phasis, a river of Thrace, v. 482.

  Phayllus, iv. 282.

  Phemius, the poet, i. 105.

  Pherecrates, fragment of, i. 124.

  Phidias, statue of Venus, ii. 498; iv. 133.

  Philammon, verses in honor of Latona, Diana, and Apollo, i. 105.

  Philemon and Magas, i. 45.

  Philinus, iii. 69, 70.

  Philip of Macedonia, examples from, i. 44, 45;
    sayings of, 194-198, 305;
    anecdotes of, ii. 141, 146, 147, 494; iii. 22; v. 115.

  Philippides the comedian, ii. 430.

  Philippus, his demonstration of the figure of the moon, ii. 173.

  Philolaus, his philosophical opinions: of the nutriment of the world,
      iii. 134;
    of the essence of the sun, 142;
    of the position of the earth, 155;
    of the motion of the earth, 156.

  Philosophers ought chiefly to converse with great men, ii. 368-377.

  Philosophers, their various opinions. Of those sentiments concerning
      nature with which philosophers were delighted, iii. 104-193.

  Philosophical discourses at merry meetings, iii. 198-203.

  Philosophy, threefold division of, iii. 104.

  Philotas and Antigona, i. 504.

  Philotas, son of Parmenio, i. 504.

  Philotimus, the physician, i. 452; ii. 153.

  Philoxenus, i. 125;
    sayings of, ii. 42; iii. 3; iv. 289; v. 423.

  Phocian women, virtue of the, i. 343, 355.

  Phocion, his saying on the death of Alexander, i. 49;
    his sayings, 70;
    wife of, 102, 216; ii. 135, 298, 311, 321, 328; v. 83, 109, 118;
    his magnanimity, 122;
    his reply to Demades, 125, 142, 149.

  Phocus, a story of love respecting him, iv. 319.

  Phocylides the poet, quoted, i. 9, 462.

  Phoebidas, apothegm of, i. 431.

  Phoenix, tutor to Achilles, i. 9; ii. 150.

  Phrygian mood of music, i. 109.

  Phryne, the statue of, iii. 83.

  Phrynis, the musician, ii. 470.

  Pieria and other women of Myus, i. 363, 364.

  Pierus, the first that wrote in praise of the Muses, i. 105.

  Pindar and Euthynous, i. 314.

  Pindar, his sayings, i. 77, 114;
    quoted, 143, 173, 174, 286, 293, 303, 304, 310, 313, 328;
    his description of the state of the blessed, 336;
    quoted, ii. 57, 143, 177, 193, 306;
    quoted, iii. 9, 23, 74, 93, 95, 96, 194, 207, 218, 377, 455, 458,
      491, 516;
    quoted, iv. 10, 15, 96, 138, 145, 150, 163, 260, 289, 405;
    quoted, v. 64, 111, 117, 148, 194, 197, 202, 214, 316, 331, 404;
    anecdote of, 404, 440.

  Pine, sacred to Neptune and Bacchus, iii. 318.

  Pine trees, of, iii. 250.

  Pinoteras, the fish, v. 205.

  Pisias, of love, iv. 270 _et seq._

  Pisistratus, i. 216;
    anecdote of, iii. 41, 200.

  Pittacus, sayings of, i. 31, 151;
    his reply to Myrsilus, ii. 5;
    at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, 3-41; iii. 50; iv. 231;
      v. 145.

  Pitwater, of, iii. 514.

  Place at table called Consular, iii. 210-212.

  Place, of, iii. 127.

  Plague in Falerie and in Lacedaemon, v. 472.

  Plain of truth, iv. 29.

  Planetiades, iv. 9, 11.

  Plants, grow how, iii. 190;
    nourishment and growth of, 191.

  Plato, quoted, i. 9, 19, 24, 26;
    saying of, 27;
    quoted, 41, 57, 71, 74, 79;
    on harmony, 115, 118;
    quoted, 141, 173, 256, 264, 279, 287;
    laws, 292;
    quoted, 297, 311, 314, 321, 337, 339, 456;
    quoted, ii. 49, 92, 100, 104, 106;
    at the court of Dionysius, 108, 141, 109, 146;
    and Socrates, 148, 150, 168, 174, 326;
    concerning the soul, 328 _et seq._, 334;
    quoted, 344, 352, 353, 355, 356, 359, 364, 455, 456, 457, 492, 496,
      504;
    quoted, iii. 19, 81;
    his philosophical opinions: of the universe, 112, 114, 115;
    of the understanding, 116;
    what is God, 119;
    of God, 121;
    of matter and ideas, 123;
    of causes and of bodies, 124;
    of colors, 125;
    of bodies, 126;
    of place and time, 127, 128;
    of motion, 128;
    of necessity, 129;
    of fate, 130;
    of fortune, 131;
    of the world, 134, 135, 137;
    of the stars, 137-141;
    of the sun, 142, 143;
    of the moon, 145, 146;
    of the rainbow, 152;
    of earthquakes, 158;
    of the sea, 159;
    of the soul, 161-165;
    of sight, 168;
    of hearing, 170;
    of the voice, 171;
    of the echo, 172;
    of divination, 176;
    of generative seed, 177;
    of the embryo, 183;
    of reason in animals, 187;
    of sleep, 189;
    that plants are animals, 190;
    quoted, 200, 201, 213, 221, 223, 243, 365, 368-370, 401, 462, 464,
      499; iv. 18, 28, 30, 41, 45;
    his opinion about daemons, 86, 87, 109, 115-117, 119, 146, 254, 261,
      292, 305;
    quoted, v. 10, 82, 103, 116, 120, 172, 257, 276, 288, 293, 295, 297,
      302, 305, 306, 338, 355, 364, 377, 381, 412, 425-433, 435, 440,
      441, 444.

  Pleasure not attainable according to Epicurus, ii. 157-203.

  Pleasures from bad music, iii. 376.

  Plistoanax, apothegm of, i. 430.

  Plurality of worlds, iv. 29-39.

  Plutarch, his rules for the preservation of health, i. 251-279;
    his Symposiacs, iii. 197-460;
    his natural questions, 495-518;
    on the immortality of the soul, iii. 164, iv. 169; v. 393;
    consolatory letter to his wife, 386-394;
    his Platonic questions, 425-449;
    his spurious remains, 450-509.

  Poet, love makes a man a, iii. 217-219.

  Poetry, essay on. How a young man ought to hear poems, ii. 42-94.

  Polemon, his kind reply, i. 55.

  Policy or government defined, v. 396.

  Political precepts, v. 97-156.

  Poltys, saying of, i. 189.

  Polus the tragedian, v. 69.

  Polybus, of seven-months’ infants, iii. 185.

  Polycephalus, the nome, i. 108.

  Polycratidas, apothegm of, i. 431.

  Polycrita, a woman of Naxos, i. 364, 366.

  Polydorus, apothegm of, i. 430.

  Polyhistor, his Third Book of Italian History, v. 476.

  Polymnestus, his improvements in music, i. 107, 110, 112, 123.

  Polypus, why it changes color, iii. 506;
    many-colored, v. 202.

  Polysperchon’s treachery, i. 64, 71.

  Pompey, his great actions and sayings, i. 241 _et seq._, 290;
    statues of, 293, v. 70, 102, 112, 114;
    owed his success to Sylla, 115.

  Porsena of Clusium, war with the Romans, v. 451, 456.

  Porus, an Indian king, i. 202.

  Posidonius, his opinion of fate, iii. 130;
    of a vacuum, 137;
    of eclipses, v. 262.

  Possible and contingent defined, v. 299.

  Postumia, chastity of, i. 290.

  Power, necessity, &c., defined, v. 300.

  Praise, inordinate, a sign of a flatterer, ii, 116, 117, 120;
    young people are often spoiled by it, 123.

  Preservation of health, rules for, i. 251-279.

  Priam and Polydore, v. 465.

  Price of peace, women given as the, v. 468.

  Priest of Hercules, iii. 90.

  Principle and element, difference between, iii. 106.

  Principle of cold, v. 309-330.

  Principles, what they are, iii. 106.

  Prize for poets at the games, iii. 316.

  Procles, tyrant of Epidaurus, puts Timarchus to death, iii. 89;
    his own unhappy end, _ib._

  Procreation of the soul as discussed in the Timaeus of Plato, ii.
      326-367.

  Progress in virtue, how it may be ascertained, ii. 446-474.

  Prometheus, anecdote of, i. 289.

  Proserpine, the same as Isis, iv. 88;
    and Cora, v. 285, 286.

  Prosodia, songs called, i. 106.

  Protagoras quoted, i. 332.

  Protogenes, iv. 257, 258, 260-265.

  Providence, of God, iv. 140-188; v. 305;
    of the inferior gods, 306;
    of the daemons, 307, 308.

  Ptolemaeus Philadelphus, i. 25.

  Ptolemaeus Soter, iv. 88.

  Ptolemy Lagus, anecdote of, i. 45;
    his saying, 202; ii. 177.

  Publius Decius, his dream, v. 462.

  Publius Nigidius, v. 96.

  Punishment of the wicked, why so long delayed, iv. 140-188.

  Pupius Piso, the rhetorician, iv. 245.

  Purple shell fish, v. 205.

  Pylades and Orestes, their friendship, i. 465.

  Pyraechmes’s horses, v. 455.

  Pyrander, his Fourth Book of Peloponnesian Histories, v. 474.

  Pyrandrus, the commissary, v. 469.

  Pyrrhon, the Stoic philosopher, anecdote of, ii. 467.

  Pyrrhus the Epirot, his saying, i. 207.

  Pythagoras, his aphorisms, i. 28, 29;
    of music, 130;
    quoted, 175;
    aphorism, 179, 294;
    symbols of, 454, 471;
    his unseasonable reproof, ii. 148;
    his joy on discovering the relation to each other of the three
    sides of a right-angled triangle, 174;
    his philosophical opinions: of the principles of things, iii. 109;
    of the unity of God, 121;
    of geniuses and heroes, 122;
    of matter, 123;
    of causes, 124;
    of bodies, 126;
    of time, 127;
    of motion, 128;
    of generation and corruption, 129;
    of the world, 132-137;
    of the zodiac, 138;
    of the summer and winter solstice, 143;
    of the moon, 145;
    of the zones, 156;
    of the soul, 161-164;
    of the voice, 172;
    of divination, 176;
    of generative seed, 177;
    of reason in animals, 187;
    precepts of, derived his philosophy from Egyptian priests, iv. 72.

  Pythagorean philosophy of dreams, daemons, ii. 412, 413.

  Pythagoreans, precept of, iii. 22;
    why they do not eat fish, 422-426.

  Pytheas, his saying, i. 213; iii. 159;
    apothegm of, v. 107, 110.

  Pythes, the Lydian, i. 382.

  Pythian games, iii. 316.

  Pythian priestess, iv. 8, 9, 62, 63;
    why she now ceases to deliver her oracles in verse, iii. 69-103.

  Pythocles, his Third Book of Italian History, v. 460;
    Third Book of the Georgics, 476.

  Pythoclides the flute player, i. 114.

  Python of Aenos, ii. 314.


  Q.

  Quarry of Carystus, iv. 54.

  Questions or Causes, Second Book of, v. 475.


  R.

  Raillery, of, iii. 229-240.

  Rainbow, of the, iii. 151.

  Rain, snow, and hail, of, iii. 151.

  Rational faculty, of the, v. 441.

  Reason, beasts make use of, v. 218-233.

  Reason, habit of our, iii. 166.

  Remarkable speeches of some obscure men amongst the Spartans,
      i. 432-440.

  Remora or Echeneis, iii. 252.

  Reproof, how to be administered, ii. 138-156.

  Respiration or breathing, iii, 173.

  Rhesus and Similius, v. 466.

  Rhodope and Haemus, mountains, v. 491.

  Riddles and their solutions, ii. 19, 20.

  Roman questions, ii. 204-264.

  Roman senator and his wife, iv. 233-235.

  Romans, fortune of the, iv. 198-219.

  Rome, saved by the cackling of geese, iv. 217;
  favored by fortune, 219.

  Romulus, his birth and education, iv. 206-208;
    murdered in the senate, v. 470;
    and Remus, suckled by a she-wolf, 473.

  Rules for the preservation of health, i. 251-279.

  Rutilius the usurer, v. 419.


  S.

  Sabinus of Galatia, iv. 308.

  Sacadas, a flute player, i. 109, 110, 112.

  Sacred games, garlands of, iii. 411.

  Sacrificed beasts, iii. 361.

  Sagaris, a river in Phrygia, v. 492.

  Salmantica, women of, i. 352.

  Salt and cummin, why does Homer call it divine, iii. 336.

  Salt given to cattle, iii. 497;
    not found in fruit, 498.

  Sappho, i. 42, 114; ii. 506;
    quoted, iii. 95, 263;
    quoted, iv. 260.

  Sappho’s measures, grace in, iii. 74.

  Sardanapalus, his luxury and lust, i. 497.

  Sardians and Smyrnaeans, v. 468.

  Saturn and his four children, v. 456, 457.

  Satyrus the orator, i. 47.

  Scamander, a river in Troas, v. 493.

  Scaurus, his magnanimity, i. 295.

  Scilurus, anecdote of, iv. 244.

  Scipio the Elder, apothegm of, i. 229; ii. 475; iv. 201; v. 96, 112,
      114, 136.

  Scipio the Younger, his sayings and great actions, i. 235-239.

  Scopas, saying of, ii. 303.

  Scythinus, verses of, iii. 86.

  Sea calves, of, v. 210.

  Sea, of the, iii. 158;
    ebbing and flowing of the, 159;
    food of the, 302-306;
    made hot by wind, 501.

  Sea-sickness, iii. 502.

  Sea water nourishes not trees, iii. 495;
    upon wine, 502;
    oil on the, 503.

  Seed, nature of generative, iii. 177;
    that fall on the oxen’s horns, 368;
    watering of, 496;
    watered by thunder showers, 498.

  Seleucus the mathematician, iii. 159.

  Seleucus Callinicus, anecdote of, iv. 237.

  Self-praise. How a man may inoffensively praise himself without being
      liable to envy, ii. 306-325.

  Semiramis, her saying, i. 187, 497; iv. 85.

  Seneca, anecdote of, i. 53.

  Senses, of the, iii. 164;
    represent what is true, 165;
    number of the, 165;
    actions of the, 166.

  Sentiments concerning Nature with which Philosophers were delighted,
      iii. 104-193.

  Serapio, iii. 74, 79, 81, 82.

  Serapis is Pluto, iv. 88, 89.

  Serpent and the Aetolian woman, v. 188.

  Seven months’ infants, of, iii. 184.

  Seven Wise Men, Banquet of the, ii. 3-41.

  Servius Tullius, his birth, elevation, and prosperous reign, iv. 212,
      213.

  Shadows, guests called, iii. 381.

  Sheep bitten by wolves, iii. 254.

  She-wolves, of, iii. 517.

  Ships in winter, sailing of, iii. 500.

  Shoe pinches, where the, ii. 494.

  Sibyl with her frantic grimaces, iii. 74.

  Sight, of our, iii. 168.

  Silence commended, iv. 230, 243.

  Simonides, quoted, i. 149, 257, 295, 305, 309, 318;
    quoted, ii. 44, 101, 136, 436, 457, 471;
    quoted, iii. 22, 87, 259, 409, 451, 459, 473;
    quoted, iv. 158;
    saying of, v. 66, 68, 71, 121.

  Sipylus, mount, v. 489.

  Siramnes, saying of, i. 185.

  Sleep or death, causes of, iii. 188;
    whether it appertains to the soul or body, 189.

  Smelling, of, iii. 170.

  Smyrna and Cinyras, v. 464.

  Snow, preservation of, iii. 350.

  Soclarus, iv. 292; v. 156, 158, 160, 166, 169, 170, 171, 216.

  Socrates, anecdotes of, i. 11, 13, 23, 26, 38, 53, 141, 150, 162;
    rules of health, 255;
    quoted, 307, 310, 312, 337; ii. 46, 148, 150, 338, 441;
    his Daemon, 378-423, 441, 495; iii. 4, 19, 35, 112, 121, 123,
      iv. 249; v. 93, 359, 361, 362-364, 377, 381.

  Socrates, his Second Book of Thracian History, v. 462.

  Soil, deep, for wheat, iii. 504;
    lean soil for barley, 504.

  Solon and Croesus, anecdote of, ii. 122.

  Solon, quoted, i. 155, 297;
    at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41;
    quoted, 297, 454, 487;
    quoted, iii. 50; iv. 72;
    quoted, 260;
    anecdote of, 304; v. 89, 113, 117, 118, 131.

  Sophocles, quoted, i. 46, 57, 244, 288;
    Thamyras, 39;
    Frag., 58, 63;
    Tyre, 206, 467;
    Antig., 51, 462;
    Oed. Tyr., 179, 470;
    quoted, ii. 45, 57, 61, 72;
    criticisms on, 72;
    Frag., 173, 241, 244, 298, 431, 452, 456, 470, 495;
    Oed. Tyr., 60, 172, 442, 476, 495;
    Antig., 110;
    Trachin., 311;
    Electra, 440;
    quoted, iii. 97, 210, 222;
    Frag., 7;
    Antig. 45;
    Oed. Tyr., 235, 474;
    Oed. Col., 232;
    Electra, 437;
    quoted, iv. 87, 246, 287, 304;
    Oed. Tyr., 197, 202;
    Trachin., 281;
    Antig., 239, 283, 404;
    Frag., 221, 226, 274, 284, 301;
    quoted, v. 69, 76, 158, 216;
    Oed. Col., 68;
    Frag., 75, 84;
    anecdote of, 68.

  Sostratus, his Second Book of Tuscan History, v. 468.

  Sotades, jest of, i. 25.

  Soterichus, the musician, i. 103, 112.

  Soul of Ajax, her place in hell, iii. 442.

  Soul or body, death appertains to, iii. 189.

  Soul, procreation of the, ii. 326-367;
    its nature and essence, iii. 161, 163;
    parts of the, 162;
    in what part of the body it resides, 163;
    motion of the, 163;
    immortality of the, 164;
    principal part of the, 173;
    three sorts of motion in the, v. 371;
    state of, after death, 393, 394;
    ancienter than the body, 432.

  Souls dispersed into the earth, moon, &c., v. 438.

  Sounds in the night and day, iii. 406.

  Sows, tame and wild, iii. 508.

  Space, of, iii. 127.

  Sparta had an oligarchy, v. 397.

  Speech composed of nouns and verbs, v. 444.

  Speech of a statesman, what it should be, v. 107.

  Sperm, whether it be a body, iii. 177.

  Spermatic emission of women, iii. 177.

  Sphodrias, v. 118.

  Spiders, labor of the, v. 174.

  Sponge, of the, v. 205.

  Spurious remains of Plutarch, v. 450-509.

  Star-fish, subtlety of the, v. 201.

  Stark drunk, those that are, iii. 281.

  Stars, essence of the, iii. 138;
    what figure they are, 139;
    order and place of, 139;
    motion and circulation of, 140;
    whence do they receive their light, 140;
    which are called the Dioscuri, the twins, or Castor and Pollux, 141;
    how they prognosticate, 141;
    number of the, whether odd or even, 446.

  Stasicrates proposes to turn Mount Athos into a statue of Alexander,
      i. 495.

  Stesichorus, i. 109, 112; iv. 497.

  Steward of a feast, iii. 212-216.

  Stilpo, the philosopher, i. 13, 76, 144, 161;
    anecdote of, ii. 468;
    defended, v. 365-367.

  Stoics speak greater improbabilities than the poets, iii. 194-196;
    their opinions concerning daemons, iv. 24;
    common conceptions against the, 372-427;
    contradictions of the, 428-477.

  Strabo, quoted, i. 27.

  Strato, i. 155; iii. 163; v. 161.

  Stratonica of Galatia, i. 373.

  Stratonicus, anecdote of, ii. 298; iii. 21.

  Strymon, a river in Thrace, v. 491.

  Summer and winter, cause of, iii. 141.

  Summer and winter solstice, iii. 143.

  Sun, essence of the, iii. 141;
    magnitude of the, 142;
    figure or shape of the, 143;
    turning and returning of the, 143;
    eclipses of the, 144.

  Superstition of the Gauls, Scythians, and Carthaginians, i. 182, 183.

  Superstition, or indiscreet devotion, i. 168-184;
    folly of, ii. 387.

  Supper, many guests at, iii. 323.

  Supper-room, why too narrow at first for guests, iii. 326.

  Suppers of the ancients, iii. 255-259.

  Swallows in the house, iii. 419;
    intelligence of the, v. 174.

  Sylla, i. 32-35;
    anecdote of, v. 72, 115, 135.

  Symposiacs, or table discourses, iii. 197-460.

  Synorix and Camma, iv. 302.


  T.

  Table, dignity of places at, iii. 210-212.

  Tables and lamps of the ancients, iii. 372.

  Talkativeness, or garrulity, iv. 220-253.

  Talk, deliberate or tumultuous, iii. 395.

  Tanais, a river in Scythia, v. 494.

  Tarpeia, a virgin, the story of, v. 460.

  Taste, of, iii. 170.

  Taxiles of India, i. 201.

  Taygetus, mount, v. 498.

  Tears of the hart, iii. 507.

  Tears of wild boars, iii. 507.

  Telamon and Periboea, v. 467.

  Telamon and Phocus, v. 466.

  Telecrus, apothegm of, i. 431.

  Telegonus, son of Ulysses, v. 476.

  Telephanes of Megara, i. 117.

  Telephus, i. 289.

  Telesias the Theban, an eminent flute-player, i. 125.

  Telesphorus, in an iron cage, iii. 31.

  Temple of Apollo, iv. 478-498.

  Teres, his saying, i. 189.

  Teribazus, anecdote of, i. 176.

  Terpander, the musician, fined by the Ephori, and why? i. 91, 92;
    an inventor of ancient music, 102, 105, 109;
    an excellent composer to the harp, 106, 112;
    added the octave to the heptachord, 102, 122.

  Teuthras, mount, v. 504.

  Thales, at the Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, ii. 3-41;
    first of philosophers; the Ionic sect took its denomination from
      him, iii. 107;
    his philosophical opinions; difference between a principle and an
      element, 106;
    that the intelligence of the world was God, 121;
    of geniuses and heroes, 122;
    of division of bodies, 126;
    of necessity, 129;
    of the division of heaven, 137;
    of the eclipses of the sun, 144;
    that the moon borrows her light from the sun, 146;
    that the earth is globular, and the centre of the universe, 155;
    of earthquakes, 157;
    of the overflow of the Nile, 160;
    of the soul, 161; iv. 337, 480.

  Thaletas, a composer, i. 110, 112;
    power of his music, 133.

  Thamyras, the singer, i. 105.

  Theanor, ii. 395, 396.

  Thebes, liberation of, ii. 414-423.

  Thectamenes, apothegm of, i. 411.

  Themisteas, apothegm of, i. 410.

  Themistocles, quoted, i. 73;
    his saying, 208;
    suspected of treason, 290, 296, 480;
    quoted, ii. 97, 311, 471;
    his kind reception by the Persian king, iii. 21, 30; iv. 208, 361,
      365; v. 101, 116, 120, 121, 127.

  Theo, iii. 70, 71, 74, 88.

  Theocritus, his remark and death, i. 25, 73; ii. 380; iii. 516.

  Theodorus, saying of, i. 142; ii. 321, 349; iii. 31;
    his Book of Transformations, v. 464.

  Theognis, i. 473; ii. 59; iii. 506.

  Theon, ii. 157 _et seq._; v. 273-275.

  Theophilus, his Third Book of Italian History, v. 459;
    Second Book of Peloponnesian Histories, 470.

  Theophrastus, sayings of, i. 276, 304, 442; ii. 303; iii. 45, 64,
      218, 219, 334; v. 202, 427.

  Theopompus, his sayings, i. 217, 410; v. 137.

  Theotimus, his Italian History, v. 456.

  Theramenes, anecdote
    of, i. 306.

  Thermodon, a river in Scythia, v. 495.

  Thero, anecdote of, iv. 286.

  Theseus and his son Hippolytus, v. 471.

  Thespesius, iv. 177, 182 _et seq._, 188.

  Thirst, cause of, iii. 341.

  Thorycion, apothegm of, i. 411.

  Thrasonides quoted, ii. 297.

  Thucydides, quoted, i. 70, 76, 472, 490;
    quoted, ii. 98, 117, 149, 152, 458;
    quoted, iii. 88;
    quoted, iv. 141;
    quoted, v. 65, 106, 403.

  Thunder, of, iii. 150.

  Thymbris, and his son Rustius, v. 466.

  Tides, of, iii. 159.

  Tigris, the river, v. 507.

  Timaeus, his opinion of tides, iii. 159.

  Timesias, the oracle and, i. 471;
  anecdote of, v. 127.

  Time, essence and nature of, iii. 127, 128.

  Timoclea, at the taking of Thebes, i. 376.

  Timoleon, ii. 314.

  Timotheus, the musician, anecdote of, i. 92, 106, 112; ii. 83, 306;
      v. 76.

  Titus Quinctius, apothegm of, i. 230.

  Tmolus, mount, v. 486.

  Torpedo, or crampfish, v. 201.

  Torquatus and Clusia, v. 459.

  Tortoise, their care for their young, v. 209.

  Training of children, i. 3-32.

  Tranquillity of the mind, the, i. 136-167.

  Transmutation of bodies, v. 14.

  Trees and seeds, watering of, iii. 496.

  Trees not nourished by sea-water, iii. 495.

  Triangles, of, v. 433.

  Trisimachus, his book of Foundations of Cities, v. 455.

  Trochilus and crocodile, v. 206.

  Troilus wept less than Priam, i. 323.

  Trojan women, virtue of the, i. 342.

  Trophonius and Agamedes, i. 313.

  True friendship, of, i. 464-474; ii. 100-134.

  True happiness, of, v. 392.

  Tullus Hostilius, v. 455.

  Tunnies, dim sight of the, v. 204.

  Typhon, in Egyptian mythology, iv. 80, 81, 86, 88, 91, 92,
      99, 101, 105, 110, 114, 118, 122.

  Tyrrhene women, virtue of the, i. 349.


  U.

  Ulysses, i. 160;
    in the island of Circe, v. 218 _et seq._

  Unity of God. Of the word εἰ engraven over the gate of the temple of
      Apollo at Delphi, iv. 478-498.




  Universe, whether it is one, iii. 114;
    division of the, v. 429.

  Unlearned Prince, Discourse to an, iv. 323-330.

  Usurers, what sort of men they are, 417.

  Usury, evils of, v. 412-424.


  V.

  Vacuum, of a, iii. 126;
    there can be none in nature, iv. 33;
    suppose there were, it would have no beginning, middle, or end, 34.

  Valeria and Cloelia, i. 356.

  Valeria Tusculanaria, v. 464.

  Valerius Conatus swallowed up alive, v. 455.

  Venus’s hands wounded by Diomedes, iii. 441.

  Verses seasonably and unseasonably applied, iii. 436.

  Vice and virtue, ii. 482-485.

  Vice, whether it is sufficient to render a man unhappy, iv. 499-503.

  Vines irrigated with wine, iii. 513;
    rank of leaves, iii. 513.

  Virtue and vice, ii. 482-485.

  Virtue may be taught, i. 78-81.

  Virtue or fortune, to which of these was due the greatness and glory
      of Rome? iv. 198-219.

  Virtue, progress in, ii. 446-474.

  Virtues of women, i. 340-384.

  Vision, doctrine of, iii. 168; v. 236 _et seq._

  Voice is incorporeal, iii. 172.

  Voice, of the, iii. 171.

  Vowels and semi-vowels, iii. 438.


  W.

  Water made colder by stones and lead, iii. 348.

  Water or fire, which is more useful? v. 331-337.

  Water, white and black, iii. 518.

  Wealth, the love of, ii. 294-305.

  Well water, change of the temperature in, iii. 347.

  West wind the swiftest, iii, 515.

  Whale, of the, v. 207.

  Wheat, sow, in clay, iii. 505.

  Whether an aged man ought to meddle in state affairs, v. 64-96.

  Whether the passions of the soul, or diseases of the body, are
      worse, iv. 504-508.

  Whether ’twere rightly said, “Live concealed,” iii. 3-10.

  Whether vice is sufficient to render a man unhappy, iv. 499-503.

  Whirlwinds, of, iii. 150.

  Why the oracles cease to give answers, iv. 3-64.

  Wicked, delay of Providence in punishing the, iv. 140-188.

  Widows in India, iv. 502.

  Wild beasts, steps of, iii. 509;
  their tracks, 509.

  Wild boars, tears of the, iii. 507.

  Winds, of, iii. 154.

  Wine, whether it is potentially cold, iii. 272-274;
    straining of, 351;
    middle of, 370;
    sea water upon, 502;
    irrigation with, 513.

  Winter and summer, cause of, iii. 141, 154.

  Winter, ships in, iii. 500;
    sea least hot in, 501.

  Wise Men, the Seven, Banquet of, ii. 3-41;
    their names, iv. 480.

  Woman, of Pergamus, i. 374.

  Woman of Thessaly torn in pieces by dogs, v. 463.

  Women, the virtues of, i. 340-384;
    barrenness in, iii. 181;
    are hardly foxed, 268-270;
    temper of, 270-272;
    given as the price of peace, v. 468.

  Word ει at Apollo’s temple at Delphi. iv. 478-498.

  World, how it was brought into its present order, iii. 113.

  World, of the, iii. 132;
    figure of the, 133;
    whether it be an animal, 133;
    whether it is eternal and incorruptible, 133;
    its nutriment, 134;
    from what element was it raised, 134;
    in what form and order was it composed, 135;
    cause of its inclination, 136;
    thing which is beyond the, 136;
    what parts on the right and left hand, 137.

  Worlds, plurality of, iv. 29-38.

  Wrestling, of, iii. 246.


  X.

  Xanthippe, wife of Socrates, anecdotes of, i. 53, 292.

  Xenaenetus, v. 109.

  Xenocrates, anecdote of; i. 71, 442;
    his opinions concerning the soul, ii. 327, 439;
    of triangles, iii. 24, 139, 494;
    his opinion about daemons, iv. 17, 87;
    saying of, v. 10, 494.

  Xenocritus, a composer, i. 110, 380.

  Xenodamus, a composer, i. 110.

  Xenophanes, his reply, i. 65, 183;
    his philosophical opinions, iii. 134, 138, 141, 144, 145, 150, 155;
    quoted, ii. 49; iv. 291.

  Xenophon, quoted, i. 137;
    maxim of, 281, 333, 447; ii. 115, 144, 178, 307;
    the scene of his old age, iii. 24; v. 67, 72, 121, 139.

  Xerxes, his saying, i. 39, 187;
    and Arimanes, iii. 59, 60;
    invasion of Greece, v. 451, 452.


  Y.

  Year, length of, in different planets, iii. 147.


  Z.

  Zaleucus, laws of, ii. 315.

  Zaratas, ii. 327.

  Zeno, saying of, i. 56;
    anecdotes of, 72, 142, 283; ii. 321, 365, 455;
    quoted, 467, 481; iii. 25, 113, 125, 128;
    his definition of virtue, 462;
    anecdote of, iv. 225; v. 382.

  Zenocrates, v. 288, 377, 441.

  Zeuxidamus, apothegm of, i. 410.

  Zeuxippus, dialogue on health, i. 251-279; ii. 157 _et seq._;
      iv. 270, 278, 288.

  Zeuxis, reply of, i. 468.

  Zopyrus Byzantius, his Third Book of Histories, v. 473.

  Zoroaster, ii. 357; iv. 106.



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